#i could yap about and analyze this show forever

[vynxwave]

Sorry for this vent ask but I feel like I'm losing my mind seeing this: not me returning to the Earthspark tag to see what people were thinking of the trailer and stuff and immediately regretting it LMAO I'm really wishing that people who called the first third of the season garbage had just quit, because if they hated good episodes and don't understand the show as it is, they'll hate the next batch if it's also good and I'm not looking forward to the reception! I'm disappointed that it's like the book has been written on the beginning of the season. It's making me kinda spiteful/toxic and actively hope for things the fandom would hate to happen. How are you feeling about the fandom right now as the s2a lover & understander lol - arceespinkgun

I'm having the same experience as you looking at the fandom. Like holy shit, all of the complaints/fears are so baseless it's irritating.

I've seen people fearing that the Chaos Terrans' deaths won't be acknowledged/mourned... for some reason? It's such nonsense and completely ignorant of the strong family theme in EarthSpark and how it deals with interpersonal relationships/conflict, and the fact EarthSpark does reference/mention earlier events. That's not even mentioning that the Maltos are literally shown to care about them.

I've seen lots of people hoping that their headcanons come true and... I really think people need to understand that EarthSpark isn't written like how fanworks are written. I feel like for EarthSpark's fandom it's such a prevalent mindset, for some reason? I don't mean this in a sense of 'it's bad to have headcanons' but rather people should see the show for what it actually presents and be able to understand why the show goes how it does.

Like, characters aren't just doing things — they're also tools used by the narrative to convey messages, themes, and morals.

It's so weird how people have been treating S2a as if it's a whole season, even before S2b was decided to be called S3. I hope people will understand that S3 is functionally S2b when it releases.

Also, the complaints about the animation quality are so overblown. The animation in the trailer and S2a's looks great to me.

People hate Decepticons being antagonists, they hate Chaos Terrans being antagonists, they hate humans being antagonists... it's so weird. It really would not have made sense for the Quintessons to come so early in the season (S2a). The Quintesson Executioner appearing, though, does make sense appearing so early because it helps set up for the Quintessons to arrive later, as does Terratronus.

In S1 there was not set up for Quintessons to arrive in S2. There was, however, set up for Terratronus with Mandroid alluding to her in S1E25-26 The Last Hope with "... you have no idea the power that's been lying beneath your base all these years" "Showing you the weapon it's perched upon" when he uses the CyberSlayer on the Space Bridge. Then in S2E01 Aftermath Starscream says "Beneath Witwicky lies a tremendous weapon" which calls back to Mandroid's allusion to Terratronus; and when Starscream is talking to the Decepticons about making New Cybertron in S2E09 Witwicky the framing calls back to Mandroid's moment again when the Witwicky Tower (the defunct Space Bridge) is in frame — where we know Terratronus lies beneath.

Like, the way the series is building up to the Quintessons is great and cohesive if you look at the actual story that's being told!

Chances are the scripts for these next episodes were finished before S2a was released, so I really hope I don't hear an utterance of "retcon!" or "they fixed xyz!" when these episodes are released.

EarthSpark S2b/S3 will be great and I hold no reservations about it, regardless of the rest of the fandom.

There's so many weird fears about what characters might not be present... like y'all... the trailer did not show everybody. The entire cast not being in some episodes/shots or synopsis does not mean xyz characters won't appear.

Honestly, a lot of what I read from people makes me wonder how much people understand about how to analyze media or how series are written. Like, I'm no king of analysis or whatever myself, but why are people unable to understand why certain choices or directions are made? It's weird how people are acting as if S2a is just sooo incongruent with S1 when that's really not the case at all if you go back and look — truly, like you said, it makes me wonder why people keep sticking around if they hate the story being told. I mentioned characters being tools of the narrative, and it really feels like people don't understand that when they're analyzing EarthSpark.

I'm currently reading Marvel UK G1 Transformers and EarthSpark's S1 established the Decepticons with such similar, or even verbatim, sentiments. But even without them the Decepticons' perspective in the show was clear to me.

Is it really surprising the Decepticons, who never valued/liked Earth or its inhabitants or the Autobots or the Maltos/Terrans, would fight the Autobots and Maltos/Terrans for the Embershards — the Embershards, which are key to building/securing themselves a new home (so promises Starscream)? It feels like people don't consider the characters' perspectives and their relation to the world/others around them when it's such an important part of analysis. And the necessity of conflict in a story.

I really don't understand how people thought the Decepticons would've turned good following S1... like it wouldn't have been warranted/earned. Now in S2b/S3, the episode synopses don't suggest the Decepticons and Autobots/Maltos/Terrans have a continued competition for anything; we do, however, see Breakdown punching SkullCruncher in the trailer which is very curious — given the setting, he's likely defending Bumblebee. I have seen people mention Aftermath in relation to Breakdown, and yeah, I wonder what Breakdown'll make of Aftermath's cruel death — some have wondered if he'll defect.

Really the main episodes I've seen people talking positively of are Breakdown & Bumblebee's and Prowl's.

It's so insane looking at a fandom and seeing a lack of actual fans and people just... not understanding the story. Hard being the S2a lover & understander in a world full of S2a haters & misconstruers! I genuinely cannot escape mentions of EarthSpark without people's dislike of S2a being the default opinion, and it's so frustrating! I know that if people do end up liking this batch of episodes, they'll follow it up with a "better than S2" which'll be annoying because S2a is the set up for S2b/S3.

I don't really have much to say about the trailer myself as I'm happy with what it shows because it looks interesting and the episode synopses sound great. The character I'm most excited for personally is Megatron, but I'll be enjoying all the others as well.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Abt burning spice's kingdom interaction with nutmeg tiger when he says "this place it reminds me of the first kingdom i..." do you think he destroyed that kingdom? Or built it?

The fact that he shows regret and hesitation in that line is interesting...

Do you think he became what he is because he doesn't have anything left to lose?

This can perfectly foils Golden cheese's story, even after her kingdom got destroyed she eventually embraces that fact and process that emotions healthily

Sorry im just yapping here, i love me two character that perfectly foils each other while being more similiar than enyone else and form a weird ahh relationship balancing between romantic or wanting to kill each other

-🌾anon

I'm going to go ahead and say both. I think he built it AND destroyed it. In fact, I'm going to go a step further and specify that he accidentally destroyed it while trying to defend it from some invading force, thus making this the first real step down that dark path. Think of it: in a mad frenzy to protect something he loved, he destroyed it instead. He unwittingly became what he was fighting against, if only for a moment - and that moment would set many things in motion, each more terrible than the last, for not only has Burning Spice now come to truly know the bitter taste of loss and history's seemingly futile nature, it came to him in perhaps the worst way possible, and so left the most lasting impression. (Idk if what I tried to cook here came out of the oven right, but there was an attempt lol)

I 100% agree with the idea that Spice became who and what he is after succumbing to despair in the face of seemingly unending loss (I go into detail about it here, this is how I personally headcanon his descent into villainy), and that there is still a lingering sense of regret somewhere inside of his heart, even if small and not strong enough to influence him anymore. That dialogue he has with Nutmeg Tiger is what pushed me to want to analyze him and construct a possible background and motive for him, and later what inspired me to want to redeem not only him, but all five of the Beasts. The fact that he might have regrets is very interesting and very promising to me, and lends itself to the idea that, with time and the right guidance, he could perhaps... change (to keep with the theme haha).

And I also agree with you on him and Golden Cheese being perfect foils for one another (it's part of why I ship them so hard lol). They mirror each other SO well in my eyes. And in the face of the same exact loss, one folded while the other stood strong (although you can say that GC folded as well, at least for a while, before she realized the folly in her delusional grief and collected herself). Nothing lasts forever, that's true, but that doesn't make it meaningless - quite the opposite. It is the ephemeral nature of life that makes it beautiful and worthwhile. It's alright to be upset when something ends, but you can't let that define you. Everything ends eventually. Focus less on what's far ahead or what's far behind and focus more on what's in front of you right now. That's the lesson GC more or less learns, and it's the lesson BS needs to learn too, in my opinion. And I honestly think GC is the right one to help teach him that.

Sorry, I sort of spoiled the "Change" arc in my Reformed Beasts AU a little bit here lol. You really hit the nail on the head with your thoughts here and it prompted me to puke this word salad. Great minds lol

[caskit2]

Gorillaz Analysis

Caskit’s not ready to throw all their cards on the table but the time has come!!! 

Okay then, I had to think long and hard about what I wanted to talk about here with Gorillaz cause DAMN!! 

I love gorillaz, 

I love the characters 

damon is a gift that we just dont deserve 

But how did I end up in the fandom pool? 

Well for one, I have heard of gorillaz music back in middleschool but at the time I was busy with Invader Zim and Inuyasha as well as jumping into this band wagon as well  (Full metal Alchemist) 

so by the time I turned to look at Gorillaz was when phase 3 was JUST wrapping up and making way for phase 4. which means I jumped into a fandom that had characters that I knew NOTHING ABOUT. Do you know what that means?

It means I also had no understanding or knowledge of why people shipped “this or that” in the fandom, but I gained some intel on the characters and the growing plot of the story, but other than that, I didnt understand why I was drawn to a particular “ship” in the fandom.  

*actual expression made, im not joking*

Once upon a time, caskit discovered 2doc and was not surprised that this was a ship. I have seen similar stuff that has a common theme that i was drawn to at the time. I was more interested in why fans ship them so I dived in head first into the boiling lava and came to a conclusion.,.....

I dont see them as able (capable?) of ever ending up in the way that most 2doc shippers would pick. The two are chaotic on levels of different tiers of “weird and gross” and I dont really have a reason as to why i was drawn to the ship, but It made me want to analyse what exactly a stable relationship is!

I basically walked around in that area of the fandom and didnt really form any “attachment” to it. I never really experienced a “healthy relationship”, lived in childhood and teen years were I went through life avoiding relationships. So I didnt have a good start, but I knew eventually that I would have to explain myself. 

I feel bad that I wouldnt be able to give a solid answer to what makes me want to sit down and analyse any scenario that has “present abuse undertones” but I know that in the past and how I grew up with what I was exposed to...That I would come to realize how unhealthy it is just for me. 

This post isnt particularly about 2doc itself, but its more about discussing how I handled MY reaction to something that I have seen over and over. In a way, I could see those abusive tones that were present.

Basically Caskit never experienced good healthy relationships and decided that it was a good idea to use gorillaz as a processing strategy....not a good idea in the end cause...OOOHHHHHHH 

It confused me more than before!!! 

I got friends that tag their stuff, and I dont really get so bothered with peoples own opinions, cause I was more worried about how I would come to understand everything. 

When I think about how fans are dividing and putting up a wall to keep “haters outa my yard”  it usually has to deal with shipping stuff, and character hating. And I guess I was confused about everyone’s perception of the characters.

Talking about the characters, I dont have a “least favorite to most” cause I have specific connections to them in different ways. 

I can find similarities to noodle for the expectations she had in a band at age 10 and growing up (plus we are both gays that dont like to publicly talk about relationships) 

I connect with Russel cause I lost a piece of myself  after a paranormal encounter and 3 near death experiences and suffer hallucinations. His protective demeanor to little noodle clicked with me. I see him as the Heart and soul, dedicated and warm friendly guy. ( you mean a decent human being right?)

I relate to 2d in a way that I share his enthusiasm, and mad bravery to live with the same guy who ran him over and caused 2 accidents that are permanent. 

I relate to murdoc in a weird way...  His childhood hits too close to home for me, as a CSA survivor of 2 incidents, pain addict and victim of abuse, draws similarities. But there were things that he has done that match things to my past like the abusive father, and dwelling on the darker aspect of a bittersweet reality. I was expressing physical violence to “show affection” and was never called out for it. I was not just a victim, I was also the abuser and since it was something that murdoc is faced with, is why I hated him. He is (for me) the thing I hate about myself. 

When I saw more and more fans hating on murdoc I wondered if people would ever think I was the same as him. Fans didnt like the way he treated 2d  and the rest of the band, And I agreed. Fans hated him for lying and causing drama and I agreed.  

His ignorance was a comedy slapstick (dressing in a nazi uniform cause he thought it “looked cool” despite russel telling him that its not a good idea) and was seen as the “crazy hooligan that has delusional dreams of fame”  and it bothered me that jamie used this to cover up allot of obvious issues that needed to be addressed. and the way that the fandom treated him made me think about how I would be accused of being like him. 

(thank goodness I didnt cause a car accident and have to sell my soul to satan for a shot at fame with a kickass band and didnt make uncomfortable sexual jokes or ignore others that tried to help me.) 

I can separate what justifies the hate on murdoc when it comes to abuse and causing shit to go down. becuase I did those things in the past, but it didnt take me more than a decade or more to realize that what I did was wrong! I didnt take forever to change for the better. so Im frustrated at him for taking so long to turn around and go “holly fuck im a bastard! I should probably fix that” 

Yeah NyOO ShiTT HunnayYY!! 

I dont hate him for being an idiot, I hate that he symbolizes all things wrong about me that never got closure! 

him admitting to being the cause of 2d’s social anxiety and eye damage as well as the abuse is easier said than done! but the fact that he is letting everything out of the “in-denial basket” is nice for me to see, cause right now Healing and progression in closure to issues of trauma is what is important to me. 

The endgame for my perspective on 2d and murdocs relationship is this: 

I dont want to ship them

I dont even see it as a thing regardless of character development and both guys working through their own shit themselves. 

I am not the best person to explain what a toxic or abusive relationship can be. 

Why? becuase I lived through it and I was both the victim and abuser to myself  and grew up without a good relationship (and I have a fear of positive affection) so I dont enjoy going through the same pattern as before where i shipped abuse in the past as a “dumb 13 year old weeboo” 

I dont view their relationship as romantic, or platonic, or healthy. 

I just want the boys to enjoy their own character growth individually. 

I would like to eventually see a friendship with them But I’ll be more excited if instead the whole band eventually gain a healthy relationship with everyone.  

Year 2018 marks the year I jumped in head first into gorillaz as a blind fruit bat 

(I call it the year caskit played with fire) for cosplaying ‘murdoc fuckn wrinkles’ at a convention around the time the fandom was yelling at him and jamming to 2d’s album. 

Caskit jumped into the shipping lava all for Behavioral analyzing and hopped over fences to see other fans perspectives of characters they liked and hated just to make sure Caskit could understand the illuminati that is Gorillaz. 

I made friends all over the fandom, and thanks to a few people, I gained more confidence to push my art skills and create some kickass art of Gorillaz. 

And yeah I yap yap about murdoc ( looks over @russelhusselhobbs im sorry you put up with my bullshit) but remember peeps. 

I like hearing about the others and have gotten more into 2d’s character as well as Jumping over the fence to go hang out with russel fans and listen to fangirling from friends and just trying to be a freakn fairy godmother and deliver some good representing art. 

And for those who aren’t aware, my past artwork is probably gonna float around so if its signed as Caskit or Caskit19 then its mine and if you see my old 2doc stuff.....,

for the trigger. 

But YEAHHHHHH!!! I wanted to throw all this on the table. and I dont know how to feel about that...(I swear my friend jokes with “need some feel good inc for Caskit” ) Kinda contemplating my choice between sticking my head into a hornets nest or jumping into a dark water trench.... the hornets nest sounds less likely to give me a seizure induced panic attack so ill go for that. ( I have a tolerance for inflicted pain so no you cant hurt me by using violence cause I dont have any consideration for myself and my safety)  

But yeah now I can get back to drawing fun stuff. (hopefuly caskit wont have to bore you guys with stupid shit ever again! xD) 

[skymoonandstardust]

Secret Abilities

an: Here you go anon-- I hope you enjoy :)

“Hey Doctor Banner”

The white lab coated figure of the scientist straightened from the beakers he’d been hunched over in examination as the door closed behind Peter.

“Hi Peter.” Bruce shot him a smile “How was school today?”

“Fine.” The teenager said shrugging as he made his way over to a counter filled with whirring machines--- all calculating, analyzing, recoding--- and who knew what else. Peter continued to answer as he slowly walked along, studying each one “It was pretty boring to be honest.”  Bruce chuckled as he bent over the beakers again “I know the feeling. Just wait a few more years till college---that’ll be a lot more fun, I promise.”

“I hope so.” Peter laughed.

Opening his mouth to ask something else Peter was turning to face Banner but paused when he noticed The row of computers showing security camera footage. Curious, he froze and watched for a minute till someone in particular, a familiar figure, caught his eye and made him speak up. “Isn’t that Mr. Stark’s daughter.”

Interested now Bruce stepped away from his experiment and walked over to stand by Peter. After a glance at the screen Peter indicated the scientist nodded “Yeah.”

Peter had never met you, but being the Daughter of the famous Tony Stark He’d heard a lot about you and seen you on the news. Not to mention the many photos of you both online and in magazines, like the kind his Aunt May got. Naturally you didn’t go to the same school as him and despite his frequent visits to avenger’s compound ever since he found out about it (and he came nearly everyday) He’d never seen you there or run into you.

Peter was disappointed about that. He’d had a fascination with Ironman, which naturally extended to the superhero’s daughter and so Peter had developed a kind of celebrity crush on you—something that would be incredible if it ever happened but was unlikely ever to be considering the chances of meeting the celebrity were near 0, and they had been until recently.

Once he’d found out about the avengers compound his hopes of meeting you rose, and that chance was partly what made him rush to the building as soon as school was out. It seemed like Peter’s luck was going to change

“What’s she doing here?” Bruce wondered aloud breaking Peter out of his train of thought

“What? Is she not supposed to be here?”

“No, She’s usually in school now.”

From there they both watched in silence as you made your way around outside of the building. They tracked your progress as you reached the back and took a little dirt road---- right to the moment you disappeared from the camera’s field of view.

Only then did Peter speak “What’s back there?”

“Nothing, just a storage shed and some woods. Tony never thought to put any cameras back there--- it didn’t seem important to guard since there wasn’t anything there.”

“Then why is she going back there?”

It was a second before Bruce responded “I don’t know. . . but it’s probably nothing.”

“Yeah.” Peter agreed--- although he didn’t really believe that and based on the quick backward glance Dr. Banner sent at the computer screen he didn’t either.   

  From then on Peter paid more attention to the video footage every time he visited Dr. Banner’s lab---- and he discovered that you came there just as often as he did. Once he pointed it out to Banner and mentioned that you always went in the same direction—out of the camera’s view and toward the woods, almost never into the building itself  they both agreed that something had to be done to find out where you were going and what you were doing. 

Neither of them dared to tell your dad just yet though so they came up with a solution.

  It was Bruce who brought up the subject of more cameras to Tony.

“You want more security cameras?” Tony deadpanned “I’ve got every inch of that compound under surveillance.”

“Not towards the back-- there’s that whole section of woods we can’t see. Anybody could stroll in from that direction and we wouldn’t know till they were knocking on our front door.”

“Ok, I’ll think about it.” Tony answered, patting Bruce on the shoulder before he walked off.

  Tony took his sweet time thinking about it and when four weeks had gone by and nothing happened the two figured the answer was no and decided to take matters into their own hands.

That weekend Peter was at the compound even earlier than usual, and after a quick stop at the lab he got into position, placing himself in the dense foliage of the trees by the side of the road.

After that it was a long hour of waiting, his only visitor’s birds and the occasional startled squirrel.

Finally, the com he’d picked up from Bruce crackled to life and Banner said “She’s on her way.”

“Is she at the side of the building yet?”

Almost—ok, now she’s at the back and headed your way.”

“Got it.”

Peter kept his eyes fixed on the road so it was a surprise when he saw the figure pass by below him. Not hesitating a second he set out a web and was on the move after her, swinging and jumping from tree to tree—careful to stay back but keep her in sight.

He was on edge and all his senses were on high alert by the time she stopped in the middle of a clearing and  sat down.  Peter, perched in a tree and watching closely was prepared for a lot of things, but not for the pack of five wolves that appeared out of the brush two minutes later.

His blood ran cold and he was bout to swing to your rescue when in his fear induced haze he noticed you were completely calm, still in the middle of the open space. Peter relaxed a bit when he saw that and hesitated, to see what would happen.

What happened was the wolves slowly coming closer and closer until they stopped a foot away from you, forming a small ring around your figure.

Suddenly one padded forward, breaking away from the others.

Peter tensed again till he saw you hold your hand out and the wolf lick it like it was as tame as a puppy. A minute later and all the wolves were huddled around you, licking you, circling and yapping at you in a tone that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other then happy and playful.

The weirdest part was that you seemed  to understand the yapping.

From his position in the tree Peter could just hear you as the wolf you were petting let out a yip and you said “Really? again? What he do this time?” He almost laughed as both you and the wolf sent a dirty look at one of the other grey forms --- and did It actually look guilty? No--- it had to be his imagination.

Everything stopped when the lead wolf suddenly tensed and let out a warning bark then a long low growl.

You weren’t fased though.

“Yeah, I know about him. The birds were screeching about a stranger as soon as I got here. You don’t have to worry, I’ll deal with him-- he’s not going to hurt you or your pack anyway, right.” The last word was shouted as you turned to look directly at Peter “You may as well come out, I know you’ve been there the whole time.”

Figuring there wasn’t any use in hiding, Peter dropped out of his tree. 

As soon as he appeared all the wolves were on their feet, growling at him with teeth bared as they formed a line between him and you. Before they did anything, you spoke up—clearly talking to the wolves when you said “It’s ok. He’s not going to hurt me. You can leave—but if it makes you feel any better you can stay close in case I need you.” 

Slowly and reluctantly the wolves left, each of them stopping and looking back at least twice as they left.

Once they were gone you turned to him “Peter huh, you must be that new recruit my dad told me about.”

“How do you---.”

“Animals have very good ears and are very chatty, especially birds.”

“And you can talk to them—understand them?”

“Yeah, and before you ask I’ve been able to do this forever.”

“Does your dad know know?” Peter asked surprised

   “Oh he knows alight” You chuckled “My dad got me this puppy and I used to make it bring me things all the time when I was too lazy to go get them myself. Dad was suspicious but about that but just figured it was a really smart dog until I accidentally made these birds dive bomb him  one time when I was mad.”

“And no one else knows about this?” he questioned

“No. I’ve learned to control it, to hide it and dad wanted it a secret—for my own good, so no one but us three knows now.”

“Not even the other avengers?”

“No, and I’d appreciate it of you didn’t say anything. Dad’s waiting for the right moment to tell them—and the world, when I become an avenger too.”

“No—of course. I won’t tell anyone.” Peter assured you

There was a moment of quit before he spoke up again “Can I ask you something--- why do you come here?”

“Cause it’s the one place that no one will think twice if I go, so. It’s safe and I can be myself—plus I love listening to all the animals, hearing their stories and playing with them.”

“That does sound pretty cool.” Peter agreed

“Thanks.” You said smiling “Anyway I should get back. Walk with me?”

“Definitely.”

“So tell me about those wolves—how did you find them?” Peter asked falling into step beside you.   

As you told him the story, eyes bright and face shining he had to hold back the goofy smile threatening to escape--- and as corny and cliché as it sounded Peter couldn’t help thinking that this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

The forevers: @a-sea-of-fandoms​ @casownsmyass @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious​ @scarlettsoldier​ @thatbasicnerd4life @docharleythegeekqueen

Marvel girls:

@a-girl-who-loves-disney

@kenziecole-green

Spiderman:

@lets-imagine-fanfics

@tomxhotland

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “The Bucket List” part 2

Two months after breaking up with The Joker, you found out the bad news. You didn’t have a choice but to ask for his help and J didn’t even show up for the meeting. Of course he didn’t care, but now that he heard why you wanted to see him so badly, it might be too late for any amendments.

Part 1: http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/161143650396/the-joker-x-reader-the-bucket-list

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/161645099431/the-joker-x-reader-the-bucket-list-part-3

8:30am - your home

You quietly get out of bed, groggy from the meds you have to take at 6am. The Joker is still sleeping and you try not to wake him up. After a few steps a wave of violent cough hits and you cover your mouth, rushing for the bathroom. You close the door behind you and keep coughing above the sink, a few drops of blood staining the white marble. You turn on the water to cover the sounds, hoping J won’t hear you.

After a few moments you calm down and wash your face, starting to brush your teeth.

“Pumpkin, are you OK?” he impatiently knocks on the door.

“Yes, I’m fine, go back to sleep please,” you muffle the words, finishing your morning routine.

J walks in and you run behind the bamboo panel, starting to take your PJ’s off, getting ready for a shower.

“Why do you always hide behind that?” The Joker crosses his arms on his chest, waiting for the reply. You are so self-conscious about your appearance you don’t really want him to see you naked anymore.

“Umm…I just think it’s better to…”

“Get out of there!” he commands, sucking on his teeth.

“I can’t…” you whisper, gulping.

“I wanna see you, stop hiding behind that thing all the time!”

You quickly wrap yourself in a towel and step away from the screen. The Joker rolls his eyes, leaning against the mahogany cabinet.  

“Drop the towel, Doll!”

You whimper, anxious to his demand:

“I don’t want to…Don’t make me!”

“Drop the damned towel, Princess!” he snaps and you slowly uncover your body, not remembering feeling so vulnerable in your entire life.

“This is humiliating,” you stare at him while he grins, pleased you complied so fast.

“Like I’ve never seen you naked before,” he scoffs, analyzing the view.

“I look horrible!” you blur out, covering your breasts with one hand.

“Well,” he pretends to debate,” you’re scrawny and I have to admit the lack of hair doesn’t give you extra points, but…”

You gasp, frowning.

“You definitely are a terrible person!”

“Yet another skill I take great pride in. Anyway, my point is that it could be worse, Kitten.We gotta work with what we have, hm? Turn around.”

You take a deep breath, nervous as hell.

“Not too bad, Y/N, but you do have a big butt. If you go in the backyard like this, I think we’ll have another solar eclipse.”

“What?!” you turn your head to glare, alarmed.

“Ha!” J snorts, “I made you look.”

You start laughing, embarrassed:

“You’re so horrible!”

“U-hum. Com’ere!” he signals and you hesitantly go in his arms. “I believe that…” You don’t let him finish. You reach for his lips and kiss him, pulling down on his boxers.

“Well, well, well,” he purrs, “What is this, Doll?”

“Something on my bucket list,” you mutter in his ear, still tense.

“I don’t recall seeing this on that piece of paper,” he teases, smirking.

“I didn’t have a chance to write it down,” you trace the playing cards tattoo on his neck as innocently as possible.

“Interesting,” he lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. “Just admit you want to get in my boxers.”

You giggle, not answering.

“You’re so light,” J sulks, beginning to walk back towards the bedroom. “You think you can handle me, Princess?”

You raise your shoulders up, kissing him again.

“Oh, yeah,” you moan, determined to make love to him even if it kills you.

“Two baldies having sex, that’s pretty hot, huh?” he winks at you and then bites your lower lip, placing you on the bed.

“Not quite,” you chuckle, caressing his hairless head.

“Speak for yourself, woman; I’m still handsome. Plus, I don’t have a huge butt,” The Joker maliciously laughs when he sees how big your eyes got.

“You’re the worst person ever!” you yank his hand, stunned.

“From all the skills I’m proud of, this is my top favorite. Now stop praising me, I’m starting to blush,” he dramatically accentuates his little speech with a sneer, glad he got you all worked up.

3pm

You didn’t want to go with him at the warehouse because you don’t feel too good, but J insisted. You see the henchmen running around with a bunch of boxes, making space and getting rid of the old stuff you guys didn’t use in forever.

“What did you want to show me?” you lean on his arm, grateful you already took your painkillers since your body is getting stiff again.

“Your stupid bucket list, Doll,” he explains. “You wanted to go to Japan and you are aware we can’t because we’ll get caught. We don’t use this place very often so I got you a bunch of Japanese items; do what you want with them. Tell our men where you want everything and they’ll move it for you.”

He senses you’re squeezing his hand really hard and your eyes get watery.

“Spare me, Y/N!” he elbows you, irritated. “Let’s skip the drama!” but he kisses your temple and you nod in acceptance, excited to see what he got for you.

“What else did you have on that’s stupid list? Oh, yeah: a family,” The Joker answers his own question, mad about it. You want to say a few things but he keeps on yapping.

“Why do you need a family for, huh? Nothing but trouble. See these jerks here?” and he points out towards the goons laboring hard to accomplish the task at hand. “They’ll do whatever you ask them and won’t fight back. Better than a family. And you have me. I hate you, but we gotta work with what we have, OK?”J gets angrier since he hopes you won’t get very emotional again; he can’t stand it.

“OK…” you are fast to please him but start crying, unable to hold it in. The henchmen keep on glaring your way, rapidly averting their gaze when they realize there’s something very intimate going on between the both of you: you’re sobbing on J’s shoulder and he has this “fed up with everything” expression on his face while holding your waist. The lack of hair makes him look even more imposing, menacing and vicious.

8:03pm

The Joker dragged you to one of the clubs where he will have a meeting with one of his smugglers that has a new medication for you. Another experimental product found only on the black market that might help.

It’s your IV day so you retreated to the sound proof room, trying to take a nap until the IV bag is done.  J is in the VIP section, talking to Nix. Frost is there also, keeping an eye on things. The discussion is going reasonably smooth until the asshole forgets who he’s talking to.

“I can’t believe you’re dating the same bitch, Mister J!” he puffs, acting surprised. Jonny lifts his eyebrows, ready to react but his boss didn’t signal him yet. The Joker holds his breath for a few long seconds, then loudly exhales.

“Yeah, same bitch,” he stares at the guy with a crazy sparkle in his blue eyes.

“So the pills are for her? I heard she’s really sick, but still alive and kicking. Tough bitch I guess,” Nix laughs, confident of his funny remarks. He has a reputation of being fierce and stepping over boundaries because he has access to a lot of merchandise on the black market that not too many smugglers can obtain.

“Tough bitch indeed,” J agrees, holding his breath again.

“Word is you shaved your head for her. Now, I’ve never thought I’ll see a man like you in love, Mister J,” Nix snickers, taking the tablets out of the suitcase.

Is this fucking prick for reals?! Frost thinks, waiting for a sign and he finally sees J tapping his fingers on the cane. Jonny cracks his neck, relieved.

It’s gonna be my pleasure, he grins, punching his fists together.

9pm

The door being busted makes you open your eyes. J turns the lights on and pushes Nix in front of you, kicking him in the shin so hard he collapses on his knees.

“What’s going on, baby?” you rub your face, getting up on your elbow.

“This asshole is here to apologize!” The Joker barks and you have no clue about this new outburst. “Apologize to my Queen!!” he yells at the guy who’s in a pretty bad shape with a black eye, busted lip and a few visible bruises.

“I-I’m sorry…” Nix stammers, groaning in pain.

“For what?!” you feel the need to ask, baffled.

“You don’t need to know!” J shouts. “You are owed apologies and that’s it!”

You don’t fight it and slide to the left corner of the velvet couch, careful not to move the needle in your vein.

“Apologize for waking her up too, you bastard!” and J lifts Nix up, violently pulling him towards the door where Frost is waiting to take over. “I’m s-sorry…for waking you up,” the guy stutters as he gets shoved out of your sound proof retreat.

“Take care of this!” The joker tells Jonny, still fuming.

“Anything I should know?” you reach for your anti-nausea medication and take some.

“Nope, go back to sleep,” J hisses, displeased at how the night turned out. “After your IV is done, we’ll go for a ride.”

“That sounds nice.” You feel like crap but you still give him a smile.

He turns off the lights and hears you:

“Were you defending my honor or something?”

“What honor, Pumpkin?!” he grumbles, shutting the door so you can rest in darkness.

10:05pm

J returned to the VIP room and he’s typing on his laptop. Frost is overseeing what’s going on in the club behind the smoky windows. You part the gold beads and step inside, barely seeing where you’re going; your vision is clouded from the liquid medication you just finished.

“I’m done, baby,” you announce, holding onto the armchair. “I’m drained, I don’t think I can go on that ride tonight. I need to rest, it hurts all over. Can we please go tomorrow?” you beg, closing your eyes when the stomach-turning vertigo sensation creeps up on you.

The Joker gives you a cold stare, still flustered from the earlier incident and not happy to find out about your rain check. He goes back to his typing, mumbling:

“If you’re so miserable, why don’t you hurry up and die, hmm?” Frost immediately peeks your way, shocked about what came out of his boss’s mouth; he’s seen you having a lot of bad days before, but you never looked more in pain like you do now.

“Well…” you dig your nails in the purple leather and sigh, heartbroken. “If there is one thing I am very good at lately is dying. So… don’t worry, it will happen soon enough,” and you rush out, stumbling a few times while trying to get away from his venom as fast as possible.

5 more minutes pass and J finally stops typing, annoyed.

“Shit… … … Frost, go get her!” he voices out and Jonny moves away from the window and stops in front of him, speaking up without hesitation:

“Sir, that was very cruel to say to somebody struggling to survive from one day to the other.”

J’s temple is twitching, definitely not liking what Jonny just articulated with such vehemence.

“Did I ask for your opinion, Frost?!” he raises his voice, pissed at the trespass.

“No, sir.”

“Is this a rebellion of some sort?!”

“No, sir, I wouldn’t dare,” Jonny replies with a calm attitude, figuring out this is the best way to go about it.

“Then shut your mouth and bring me my girl!!!” The Joker snarls, considering blowing his trusted man’s brains out.

“Yes, sir,” is the last thing he discerns before the deafening music takes over the club.

10:20pm

Frost couldn’t find you and one of the bouncers reports that saw you driving away in J’s SUV.  The news doesn’t go well with The Clown Prince of Crime.

“How is Y/N going to drive in the state she’s in?! She has to take her medications and can’t skip doses!!” J screams at everyone, taken aback by the conflict he created himself, not that he would ever admit it’s his fault. “We have to find her!!!” he directs the operation, instructing all of them to seek in some places he guesses you might be. They are searching all night, unable to find any traces of you.

Finally, around 7am, Richard reports he found J’s car parked near the beach, close to your favorite spot you like to go and look at the ocean. It’s a small, hidden strip of sand behind the highway; at least you went to one of the places The Joker thought you might go to. J doesn’t even know when he got there, driving so fast he almost got unwanted attention from the cops.

You spent the night on the beach, having to stop a lot of times on your way there because you had a hard time seeing and concentrating on driving. You didn’t take your pills, not really giving a damn since they don’t really help anyway as far as you’re concerned. You have a bag full of all the stuff you take, taking out a few at a time and tossing them in the ocean from the flat rock you found refuge on at the crack of dawn.

“That’s 2000 dollars a piece on the black market you’re throwing away Doll,” you hear J’s voice and ignore him, continuing to do as you please. You’re wheezing pretty loud, fighting to breathe since the salty, strong air puts quite the strain on your weakened lungs. You don't’ care: what’s another issue added to the others?!

You shrivel under your thick hoodie, covering your face even more, not wanting to see him.

J comes and sits by you, quietly watching the waves crushing on the nearby stones. He hears you sniffle but doesn’t attempt to uncover your head. His right arm reaches in front of you, holding a purple capsule in the palm of his hand:

“If you take the new med, you don’t have to take the white and brown tablets anymore. I’ll trade you…yes?” The Joker’s voice gets really deep as you move away from him, not replying. “Fine, then I’ll take it! I don’t want to waste 5000 dollars on just one capsule,” and he almost puts it in his mouth when you scoot back towards him and slap his hand. He drops the pill on the sandy rock and you are irked:

“Are you insane?!”

“Is this a trick question, kid?” he licks his lower lip, intrigued.

“It will make you sick, it’s not for healthy people!” you slowly blink and turn to finally face him. He inspects you and it doesn’t look great: your eyes are red from crying all night and the grimace of pain on your face lets him know you didn’t even take your painkillers; your labored breathing makes you shake a bit and the dried blood stains on the sleeve you used to clean your lips with after coughing disturb him.

“Somebody has to take it, it’s expensive!” The Joker has a smooth comeback (in his opinion).

“You have a shitty strategy, you know that?” you pick the capsule up from the sand, wiping it on your pants and swallow it, grumpier than you were before he arrived.

Without any warning, he buries his face in your lap, wrapping his arms around your knees. You try to push him away but he won’t budge.

“I don’t want you to die,” you hear the muttered sentence and it strikes a chord in your heart. “I don’t hate you,” he persists and you whimper when you feel his grip getting tighter. “But you can’t tell anybody, it will ruin my reputation,” he rambles on and you snort, wiping your tears. “As your knight in shining armor…”

“You’re not my knight in shining armor!” you interrupt, softly kicking his arm with your knee.

“Oh, I’m soooorry!” he lifts his head up from your lap, shifting so he can look up to you.” I didn’t see a huge line of suitors fighting for the title!” J sarcastically indicates. “You think that loser will ever show up?? Forget about it, it’s a myth! I’m the only one around so we gotta work with what we have, OK?… Just nod a yes, woman, and stop crying! Can we skip the drama for once?” he kisses your wrist and inhales your scent again. “You smell nice, what is it?” he diverts your attention since he masters this skill also.

“Death,” you divulge, smiling through tears.

He growls, exasperated, pinching your side.

“Shut up! You’re not dying!”

You take the small roll-on perfume decorated with a silver skull out of your pocket, showing him the name: Death.

“Why would you wear a fragrance with this name?!” J snaps, irked.

“It smells nice, you said so yourself,” you defend your choice, forgetting about your emotional surge.

“Gimme!” he urges you and you hand the tiny vial over. He takes it, glances at it for a few seconds then gets up and tosses it as far as he can in the ocean.

You gasp.

“Did you just…throw away my perfume?!”

“Yeah, it sucks! Use another one, you have so many,” The Joker cuts you off, keeping both hands on his bald head, satisfied at his accomplishment. Before you can protest some more, he proceeds with new updates:

“Tonight I’ll have Commissar Gordon kidnaped for you. I’ve been working on it for a month; we’ll take him to your Japanese oasis. Another thing on your dumb bucket list taken care of. “

You have such a happy smirk flourishing on your lips he feels he has no choice but to sit down by you again.

“You’ll get him for me?!”

“U-hum… Wanna kill him?” he pretends not to notice your sudden cough that calms down after you cover your mouth with the side of your hoodie. “Kill him?! No way, he’s my favorite; I just want to see him.”

“Huh?! I thought Batsy is your favorite!” J waves his hands around, vexed.

“No, Batsy is your favorite, mine is Gordon; you know that,” and you are so dizzy you lean to rest your forehead on his shoulder. The new med must be very strong, you can already tell.

“I don’t know who you are anymore, Pumpkin,” he rolls his eyes, faking his surprise.

“Fuck…” you whisper, sweating even if you are cold as ice. “This crap is messing me up, I think I need to go home now…” “Penthouse or your house?” J gives you the choice, instantly serious.

“My house, please,” you groan in pain when he helps you up. He signals you to get on his back and you obey, enjoying the piggyback ride. At this point it would be hard for you to walk anyway.

“Why do you have finding out who Batsy is on your list?! Like, why do we care to know who that jerk is ?! Our job is to keep him busy since he seems the type that gets bored easily, am I right? Hey, Doll, wake up,” he pats your leg and you moan, napping since you are so tired and uncomfortable. As soon as you get home, you’ll definitely need at least two painkillers.

The Joker continues to walk, basically talking to himself at this point.

“I know you also wanted to steal more diamonds but I can’t take you on a heist like this: consider it crossed off your idiotic Bucket list. I got you 3 boxes of jewelry so it should be fine for now. We gotta work with what we have, hm?”

He lifts you up higher on his back and struts on the beach.

“Hey, Y/N, I’ll send the boys to get the other vehicle… God, Princess, you’re so light,” he puckers his lips, listening to your heavy breathing in his ear. “I really don’t want you to die…” he stops in his tracks and gently spanks your thighs behind his back. “But I really do hate you, I lied when I said I don’t…”

“Mmmm…” you grumble in your sleep, probably out of it.

J takes advantage of you not being able to fight him and restarts walking:

“You know why it’s clouded? I bet you anything it is because of your big butt, hm? We are having a solar eclipse right now and you’re responsible,” he grins and squints his eyes when he senses your fingers nipping his skin.

“I heard that…” you protest, too tired to do more and doze off again.

The Joker mischievously snickers, sprinting towards the cars he can see in the distance.

He is not the ideal knight in shining armor and you are not the same woman you were before you got ill. But you gotta work with what you have.

Life’s too short to complain.

 Also read: MASTERLIST

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

[pitifulmagicalocs]

Finished Chapter

Scene: Megan Captured

Characters: Megan Scott (POV), Kyle Hausman, Kevin Carnell, Mick Salgado, Marilyn Blanchard, Lance Young.

Type: Horror

Words: 4914

Status: Edited

Trigger Warning: Blood, violence, cussing. 

Feedback Request: Is this frightening enough? Is the dialog enjoyable? Anything specific? Etc.

Megan swung in the doorway, poking her head into the TV room. As expected, Kyle had gotten comfortable on the far end of the couch, his bad leg rested on a pillow on the coffee table, brace off and laptop open on his lap, the screen casting a blue glow over his frowning face.

“Hey,” Megan called. He stopped typing, but didn’t answer.

“Hey,” she repeated, stepping into the room and waving her arms. Kyle sighed, pinching his nose under his glasses to show his annoyance at her presence.

And people called her dramatic.

“What, Megan?”

“I’m bored. Let’s watch a movie or something.” She flicked her eyes towards the TV.

“No.” Kyle kept his eyes on the laptop, although he hadn’t started typing again.

“Please?”

“I’m busy, Megan.”

“Busy with what, Kyle?” Megan deepened her voice, mocking him.

“I’m baking a fucking cake.” Kyle rolled his eyes and he started typing, although the way he tapped lazily at keys made it obvious he wasn’t actually writing anything.

“Mmm. I love cake.” Megan crossed the room to the wall-mounted TV and the tall tower of DVDs beside it. “Well, I’m watching a movie. So, if you want any say on what I put on in here; speak now, or forever shut your yap.”

“There are four other television sets in this house,” Kyle sighed. “Why do you have to use this one?”

“Surround sound,” Megan answered, turning her finger in a circle in the air.

Kyle sighed a second time, shutting his laptop. He reached for his cane, which laid unfolded on the coffee table, but Megan jumped forward to pull it out of his reach.

“Megan!” he hissed. “Don’t touch my things!”

“Stay.” She pointed the cane at his face. “Or I’ll show your mommy your cigarette stash under your desk.” She pulled her phone from her sweater pocket and waved it in the air. “I’ve got photographic evidence!”

Kyle’s eyes popped open and his brow tensed. “They help me write. Give me that!” he grabbed at the cane in his face, she allowed him to yank it from her grip.

“Yeah. Because Janet’s gonna care what they help you do.”

“Why are you blackmailing me so that I’ll hang out with you?” He asked. “Aren’t any of your many friends doing—Oh right. Pardon me.”

Megan scoffed. “Whatever.” She slapped the phone down on the corner of the table and squatted down by the DVD tower, running a fingernail down the cases, scanning the titles.

“Wanna watch somethin’ scary?”

“Whatever will get you away from me faster.”

Megan rolled her eyes again, slipping a movie from the tower and standing up, spinning around with it clutched in both hands.

“How about ‘Saw’?” she asked, holding it out. “Have you seen it? It’s great. This guy saws his foot off! Right at the ankle! He has to choose between dying in some terrible deathtrap, and living as a gross cripple the rest of his life. Oh right—Pardon me.”

She smiled sweetly, watching his jaw harden.

“Personally, I think he chose wrong,” she added on with a pout.

Kyle glared back at her for a moment, and then a smirk spread across his awful, smug face. Although the anger never left his eyes.

“Sounds great,” he said. “Pop it in.”

“I will!” Megan huffed.

“Good. Looking forward to it.”

“Awesome!”

Megan turned the TV on and popped the DVD in the side, feeling Kyle’s condescending smirk on the back of her shoulders the entire time. She didn’t actually want to watch ‘Saw’ with Kyle. She loved horror flicks, sure. But that was part of the problem. Anything she enjoyed, she knew Kyle would pick at and over-analyze until it wasn’t enjoyable anymore. But she wasn’t about to lose.

“I’ll make popcorn,” she said as she headed back to the hallway, smiling at the image of all the color draining from Kyle’s smirking face.

“Whatever. Just know that we’re not going to hold hands and comfort each-other.”

Megan waited until she was out of his line of vision, and then she angrily mouthed ‘blah blah blah’ all the way down the hall and to the kitchen.

The kitchen felt surreally desolate late at night. She usually only saw it in the early mornings, when her father and Janet rushed back and forth, somehow still bumping into each-other in the wide spaces between the kitchen island and the granite counter tops as they hurried to get their coffees and lunches and head to work—or in the evenings, when Janet was preparing something on the stove and Megan’s father sat slouched on the barstool, ripping his thin, red hair out over some papers in his hands.

Now, it was empty and dark and open enough that she was sure she’d hear her voice echo back if she called out. The windows surrounding the dining area were inked almost completely black except for the distant sparkle of far-off neighbor’s windows.

She couldn’t decide if it was beautiful or eerie.

Megan rummaged through the cupboards and pulled out the box of popcorn. She fished out the last bag and chucked the box at the recycling bin. Turning the bag in one hand, she took a glance at the calories while her other hand popped open the microwave. She shrugged. She’d earned it. Her father decided not to pick her up from school and Janet was working late, so she’d walked home.

After sliding the popcorn bag into the microwave and setting it to two minutes, she turned around and checked herself out in the reflection on the refrigerator’s metallic surface. She pulled her cute cashmere sweater down over her hips so it hugged her waist more tightly, and she twisted this way and that, trying to get a better view.

The sound of the front door unlocking made her jolt and look around to make sure nobody saw. She glanced at the clock on the stove. 11:42. Janet and her dad weren’t usually back before 1:00.

Megan readjusted the bottom of her sweater, and she started headed back for the archway, poking her head out to get a peek just as the door opened.

She only got a slight glance at the people in the doorway, just enough to see two masked figures that were certainly not Jacob and Janet. She backed away, breath halting.

“Tsss!” a scratchy voice hissed. “Quiet! Idiot!”

Oh God. People were in their house. People with their faces covered. The possibilities of a burglary weren’t that unlikely in their neighborhood. But what would they do if caught? Shoot?

At that moment, the microwave beeped, and without a thought, Megan darted for the broom closet by the basement door. She pried it aside as silently as she could, only leaving herself enough space to squeeze in before she slid it shut behind her. She spun around, holding a hand over her mouth and trying hard not to stumble over a mop bucket or broom handle.

‘They just want our valuables,’ she assured herself, peering at the empty kitchen through the slot between the door panels. ‘They won’t look in a broom closet. They’ll just take some stuff and go. They probably don’t want any more trouble than I do.’

The microwave beeped a second time, and Megan clenched her eyes shut. When she opened them again, someone was in the kitchen, then another, and then two more.

‘Oh god. Four?’

Megan leaned forward a couple of inches to get a better view, and her throat swelled shut.

The intruders were three men and one woman. Each were clothed in ragged, stained fabric and each wore either a hooded sweater or jacket—and a scarf or bandana over their mouths. They breathed loud, crackling breaths that would have given them away, had their strong scent, which permeated the barrier of the closet door and stung her eyes, not beaten them to it.

Witches. Four of them. Megan dug her fingernails into her cheek to keep herself from squeaking.

One of the males was considerably bigger than the other two, he stalked past the others and examined the microwave, which beeped back at him.

“It’s this,” he said in a sharp voice, yanking open the door and pulling the inflated popcorn bag out and holding it at arm’s length for the others to see. They didn’t seem as interested.

“Not important,” the female hissed. “Did you figure it out?”

The large witch lifted his other hand. In it, a long and clunky-looking gun. Megan was pretty sure she recognized it. The kind that shot witch-copper barbs. Why would they have one?

“Nah; it’s all fucked,” the witch answered, tapping the back of the gun and then holstering it at his side.

“Hey!” Kyle’s voice sounded from back in the TV room, and all the witches’ heads spun around.

‘Oh no. Oh no. Kyle’. Megan bit down on her tongue.

“Was that the door?” Kyle called. “Megan?—Are Janet and Jacob home?”

The witches glanced between each-other, but stayed silent.

“Megan?”

There was a long pause, and then the sound of Kyle’s cane tapping on the floor.

“Hello?” he called. His voice sounded closer.

‘Go away, Kyle!’ Megan screamed in her head.

“If you’re trying to scare me; it’s a tad pathetic.” Kyle’s voice grew nearer and nearer, along with the tapping of the cane.  “There’s very little you can do that I haven’t seen. I’ve dealt with pranksters with a far greater capacity for—“

Kyle appeared in the archway, and stopped dead in his tracks. The witches didn’t lunge. They didn’t have to. Kyle didn’t move. He just stared back at them, blankly. Megan ducked and twisted her head, squinting and trying desperately to get a better view. As if a better view would change what she was seeing. But it was still just Kyle, standing in the archway, eyes wide with terror but no part of him doing anything about it.

‘Go, Kyle!’

The female witch was the first to go for him. She pushed past one of the smaller males and leapt at Kyle, disappearing out of Megan’s line of vision. Kyle flinched and dropped his cane, which clattered loudly to the floor, but he did nothing else but gape and stammer as the witch grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him into the room. He stumbled and started to fall forward, but another witch grabbed him and the two shoved him against the wall. Still, Kyle did nothing but stare.

The largest one crept over to where the cane had dropped. He picked it up and swished it around.

“Huh. Look at this!” he spun around to face Kyle, who gawked back at him, face drained completely white. “You don’t look like no geezer.”

He paused. “Hey! That picture in the hall’s your mum, ain’t it? You got the same eyes. Think she’ll show up? I’d love to meet her!”

The other witches snickered.

“Hey!” the large one hissed. “Answer!”

In a quick flash, the witch whacked Kyle in the side with the cane, hard enough that the sound cracked throughout the entire kitchen. Kyle reached out and caught himself on the counter before he could go down, but all that came out of him was a wheeze. Then—a second time. The witch struck the cane against Kyle’s arm. This time getting a quick grunt.

Megan suppressed a whimper, pressing her other hand over the first and ignoring how long it had been since she took a breath.

“Good pain tolerance,” the female witch said with surprise.

“Kinda boring,” the big one sighed. “Maybe it don’t hurt as much as it looks.”

He then gave the witch beside him the same treatment, whacking him in the side with the cane, and this time— getting a loud yelp in response—and a louder one when he used both hands and slammed the cane against his back. The witch dropped down on his hands and knees and groaned, causing the bigger one to throw his head back and cackle.

Megan had never heard a witch’s laugh before, and she never wanted to again. It was so piercing that she nearly considered putting her hands over her ears instead of her mouth.

“Alright, get up!” The witch kicked the smaller one in the side, and the smaller one jumped to his feet.

“You talk to him.” The big one was barking orders. He had to be the one in charge. Although the female was a close second, for sure.

The small male moved in on Kyle, and grabbed him by the throat, shoving him back against the wall. This one was scrawny. Kyle could have overpowered him easily. Yet all he did was grip the witch’s wrist and stare back at him, mouth pulled into a grimace.

“We need the girl,” the small witch croaked.

Kyle stayed silent. She saw the female witch roll her head back in frustration.

“This one.” The alpha male held something out to Kyle. But Megan couldn’t tell if he was looking or not. She only heard him pull in a strained, wheezing breath.

“Idiot!” the large witch hissed. “If he can’t breathe, he can’t answer!”

Megan didn’t see the other witch loosen his grip, but he must have, because she could hear Kyle gasping for air.

“The closet!” Kyle sputtered. “She’s— in the closet! She has—to be!”

Megan’s stomach dropped.  

The last male, in the green jacket, who had been silent until now, pointed to the broom closet, and Megan sobbed.

“That one?”

“Yes! Yes, that one!”

The large one laughed. “Well, she’s not goin’ nowhere!” He patted the witch who was pinning Kyle on the shoulder. “Kill him.”

“What?!” Kyle gasped.

“Leave his face, though,” the female purred, moving in on Kyle and stroking his cheek. “—He’s beautiful!” Kyle winced and tried to shift away, but with very little real effort.

“What’s he saying now?” the green-jacket witch asked. Megan strained her ears, she couldn’t hear anything, but the female leaned an ear close to Kyle and then let out a shrill shriek of laughter.

“Wake up?!” she taunted. “Wake up?!– You’re not dreamin’, Pumpkin!” She patted his cheek. “You’re about to die!”

The witch with his hand on Kyle’s throat added a second hand, dead magic beginning to gather around his fingers.

“Aw, buddy.” it laughed. “You’ll be alright!”

Kyle only groaned in pain.

“Leave him alone!” Megan screamed. She couldn’t stop it. She rattled the closet door with both hands and screamed out loud. “Let him go!”

That time, all the witches laughed, and the reality of what had happened—of what she’d done—sunk in. Kyle was about to die, and now, so was she.

“You hiding in there?” The alpha male took a few steps towards the closet. Megan stood stiff, waiting.

The door ripped open. Megan screamed and fell backwards against brooms and mops and shelving on the back wall.

“Found ya!” the witch exclaimed happily. Megan grabbed for the nearest thing, a mop, and she jabbed the handle at him with an angry yell. But he grabbed it and yanked it out of her grip effortlessly.

For a moment, she met Kyle’s eye. He sucked in a breath and tried to say something, but it came out wordless. His eyes turned back onto the witch strangling him—and his brow dropped. He gritted his teeth and mouthed something inaudible. Something that made the witch let go.

Before Kyle could draw in another desperate gasp, the witch screamed out.

“No! Don’t call me that!”

All heads turned, even the witches, as the small witch grabbed Kyle by the hair and slammed him back against the wall. Kyle’s eyes snapped back and then glazed over. The witch then brought his head down cracking against the countertop. Kyle went down instantly, crumpling on the floor against the counter. The witch stood over him, dead magic sizzling on the few patches of exposed skin, chest heaving.

“Kyle! Oh my god, no!” Megan sobbed, throwing her hands into her hair. Kyle was motionless, blood congealing on the tile floor underneath his head. The leader cackled once more.

“I didn’t mean kill him like that!” he giggled childishly. “But okay! Get creative, Pal!”

“What’d he say?” Green-jacket asked.

The small one didn’t answer. He just stood over Kyle and breathed hard.

“What do you want from me?!” Megan shrieked. “My dad will be home any minute now! Anything you want, he can give you!”

Did it make sense to bargain with witches? Probably not. But she didn’t know what else to do.

The witches snickered. Even the angered one. The leader stuck out a finger and waggled it back and forth.

“Nuh uh!”

He pulled the barb gun from its holster and began to approach her with heavy, threatening footsteps. Megan’s eyes flashed around the room and then locked on her only chance: the black, rotten magic still pouring from the smaller witch’s skin. She reached out and shot her own magic out, grabbing the dead magic and pulling it into the air. She spread it out into a dense fog and brought it down upon the room. The witches gasped and roared in shock and anger.

Megan zipped for the archway, sliding past the large witch and skidding into the hallway. Another witch followed, slamming into the wall alongside her and blocking her path to the door. She cursed and charged the other way, down the hall and up the stairs, with the witch scratching its way up behind her.

“Did she just move your magic?!” the large one’s voice boomed from back in the kitchen. “That’s awesome!”

Two witches were following her now. She glanced over her shoulder and saw them scrambling up the stairs behind her, pushing and shoving each other.

“Leave me alone!” she shrieked, turning down the hallway and charging for her father and Janet’s room. It had a big, open window that she could smash and leap out from. She tore into the room and slammed the door behind her, saving her a portion of a second to reach the windows and pound on them with her fists.

“Help!” she screamed as the witches ripped open the door. Megan turned and slipped behind Janet’s cheval mirror, holding it like a shield as the witches stalked around the bed.

“Don’t worry, kitten!” the female witch cooed, gripping the mirror with blackened fingers and poking her head around. “Promise not to eat ya!” She snapped her teeth underneath the stained bandana over her mouth.

“Eat my dick!” Megan hollered, pushing against the mirror with a burst of magic. The mirror—and the witch flew back and crashed into the floor, screeching angrily. Megan jumped up onto the back of the mirror and pushed down with all of her weight. There was a loud crunch, and the witch’s screams raised in pitch. Green-jacket stared down at the female, and then up at Megan. He looked afraid. This fear was likely what caused him to make his next mistake. He shot out his arms and sent a bolt of dead magic her way. She threw her own arm up and deflected it with a white flash. The black projectile bulleted back into the witch’s chest, and he smacked against the tall dresser behind him, collapsing in a heap on the floor.

The female witch beneath her shoved upwards, and Megan lost her balance, toppling off of the mirror and into the side of the bed. Megan pawed at the comforter, scrambling to get back on her feet as the witch threw the mirror off of herself and leapt to her feet, tucking a twisted and broken hand to her chest. Megan darted her eyes to the bedside table, and she leapt for the lamp, grabbing it in both hands just as the witch leapt on top of her, screeching and spitting and digging her fingernails into Megan’s back. Megan screamed and squirmed, twisting her body up and then slamming the lamp down on the top of the witch’s head. The witch squawked, and pressed her uninjured hand to Megan’s throat, squeezing hard enough to bring tears to Megan’s eyes. But Megan kept on hammering into the witch’s skull with the bottom end of the lamp, even when stars started to show in the corners of her vision.

One big, powerful blow finally sent the witch scurrying backwards until the back of her head hit the bottom of the window. Her hood had fallen down. Blood and dead magic had begun to pour down the sides of her balding scalp. Megan groaned, gripping the side of the bed with one hand and the lamp with the other. She pulled herself to her feet, wobbling on her heels and panting heavily. The witch sat in a ball, holding her head with her unbroken hand and kicking at the carpet.

“Bitch! Nasty little bitch!”

Megan huffed, dragging her feet across the carpet and raising the lamp in the air. The witch snarled and put a hand out, bracing for another blow.

Megan swung the lamp in a high arch, slamming it against the window. It cracked in a wide V, all the way down to the base. The witch looked up and Megan grabbed hold of her leaking magic, bashing her head back against the window and spreading the crack in the glass even wider. Then, Megan brought the lamp back with both hands, and then slammed it forward into the witch’s face. That final blow shattered the glass, and sent the witch tumbling backwards out the window.

Megan took a couple of seconds to catch her breath, letting the lamp fall to the ground by her feet. Then, the slowly approached the broken window, peering down into the darkness and pulling loose hairs off of her sticky, tear-stained cheeks.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. “Holy shit, shit, shit.”

In the blackness, she could just barely make out the outline of the witch’s body on the grass below. She didn’t wait to see if she was moving. She turned back to the room, and crossed it to where the male witch still laid unconscious by the dresser. She grabbed him by the arm and heaved with all her strength, dragging his limp body across the carpet, and shoving him headfirst out the window, ignoring the pieces of broken glass that snagged on his clothing.

“Shit!” she cussed one last time before turning and heading back out the door.

Megan tore down the stairs, keeping one hand out and magic fizzing underneath her fingernails and she stepped back out into the hallway, and darted for the front door. She made it to the front foyer rug when she skidded to a stop.

‘Kyle.’

Megan looked back and forth between the front door, and the possibility of a quick escape, and the archway of the kitchen, where the other witches could still be.

She paused for a quarter of a second, and then sighed hard, turning and running back to the kitchen, magic glowing in both of her palms.

But, when she burst into the kitchen, it was empty, save for Kyle’s crumpled body still laying on the floor. The puddle of blood hadn’t grown. That was a good sign—right?

Megan dropped to her knees by his side, grabbing him by the shoulder and rolling him over onto his back.

“Kyle!” she whispered harshly. He groaned weakly, his face creasing with discomfort.

“Oh thank god,” Megan breathed. “Kyle! Wake up! We have to go.”

She patted the side of his face, but his eyes wouldn’t open. She sighed and shook her head.

“I’m gonna get my phone. It’s in the TV room. I’m gonna get us help. I won’t leave you here.”

Megan stood up and whipped around. Just before she could rush out into the hall, another one, the small witch, stepped into the archway and blocked her path.

“Hey there!” he rasped, tilting his head playfully.

Megan tightened her jaw, backing away as the witch followed her into the kitchen slowly, threateningly.

“Wh-Where’s the other one?” she asked, checking both corners of the room.

“Gone to get the ones you pushed out the window.” The witch moved closer, backing her up until her spine hit against the counter island.

“You… uh,” she stammered. The witch tilted his head, listening, but still approaching.

“Y-You’re the… the punching bag of the group. Aren’t you?” Megan tripped over her words. Not good when they were all she had. “I saw the big one hit you.”

The witch raised an eyebrow at her and gave an exaggerated shrug.

She cleared her throat. “Was this all his idea?”

The witch scoffed, but didn’t answer. He just moved in closer. So close that the smell nearly halted her words at her lips.

“Why-Why are you doing what he says? Huh? If he hits you and stuff.”

“There’s worse things,” the witch answered. “Wanna see?”

He leapt and grabbed hold of her. Megan screamed and turned away, but the witch gripped her to his chest, grasping and pinning her arms to her stomach as she fought to cast, but only shot weak bursts of energy that barely aided her struggle. The witch snarled in her ear, and then laughed one of those disheartening laughs. The scarf must have come loose from his face, because she felt what she was sure to be his tongue dragging up the back of her neck.

She screamed louder. The witch released one of her arms and slapped a hand over her mouth, crushing her nose, suffocating her. She clawed at his hand for a second, and then reached out, stretching her arm across the counter and reaching for the knife block on the other end. Once again, stars returned to her vision and she strained her shoulder, brushing her fingertips against the handle of the knife. The witch must have noticed what she was doing, because he growled and yanked her backwards, but a second too late. Megan gripped the knife in her hand, twisting it back as she wrestled against the witch’s strength. She aligned the knife with the witch’s arm, and slashed down.

The witch released an inhuman cry, and he released her. Megan whipped around, knife in her hand to see the witch stumbling back, clutching his arm, which gushed blood and leaked a thin cloud of dead magic. He grunted and cussed, gripping the gashed-open arm with his other hand, trying to lessen the blood loss.

Megan kept the knife pointed at him as he looked up with enraged, golden eyes, black veins pulsating at their edges and thick rot pouring from his snarling mouth.

“Ah! Yeah! That hurt a bit!” the witch hollered, sending specks flying from his rot-coated teeth. He straightened up, shaking out his arm.

But Megan remained fixated on his face. The slope of his nose. The shape of his dark-grey lip.

“Zac?” she gasped.

The witch’s eyes flashed, and then a wide, black smile spread across his face.

“Hah! No!” His voice had become even less human than before.

He lunged at her, and in the shock of the moment, Megan forgot to raise the knife. Instead, she acted as fast as she could, grabbing hold of the magic that leaked from his bleeding arm and pushing it up into his face. He squawked and pawed at the air, trying to clear his vision. Megan ducked around him and grabbed hold of the back of his hoodie.

“No! Get off me!” The witch’s voice had become a high, animalistic shrill. “Get off! Get the fuck off!”

She considered driving the knife into his back, but instead she dropped it to the floor and used both hands to hurl him towards the open basement door with a burst of red magic. The witch screamed when he went crashing down the stairs. But when she peered down at him, he laid sprawled out on the bottom step, twitching ever-so-slightly.

Megan slammed the door shut—and slid the lock into place, thanking her father’s neurotic tendencies. She returned to Kyle’s side to make sure he was still breathing, and then carried on with her initial plan of retrieving her phone from the TV room.

She spun out into the hallway, and was immediately grabbed from behind. An arm swung around her throat and something cold pressed to her back.

Ka-thunk!

Megan screamed as something pierced deep into her skin. Then, an incredible weakness took over her. She could feel all of her energy draining away through the stinging spot on her back.

She’d been jabbed with a witch-copper barb.

“I figured it out!” the large witch’s voice cheered. He released her and she slumped to the floor, sputtering and struggling to move. But her limbs were numb and useless.

“What about–?” the green-jacketed male’s voice sounded. Megan tried to turn and look, but she couldn’t even manage to lift her head off of the floor.

“Leave him. We gotta go.”

“But—“

“He deserves it. He’ll come back. Or they’ll needle him. Either way.”

“And the pretty boy?” The female’s voice.

“Is he dead?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let his pretty mum find him. We gotta go.”

“They’ll be angry.”

“Go!”

He lifted her up off the ground, and she could do nothing but scream feebly, until something tied around her mouth. Then, she could do nothing at all.

[warninggraphiccontent]

20 March 2020

Covid's Metamorphoses

Morning all,

I’m sure pieces have already been written about a generation that has grown up knowing only crises – political, financial, health, global – and government as crisis management. Even we millennials old enough to remember majority governments in moments of relative calm (though anything now seems calm in comparison) struggle with the dissonant discourse of horror and humour: as we send funny tweets to keep things light, we risk trivializing serious times; if we didn’t, it might be worse. It almost seems disrespectful to keep calm and carry on in a time of quarantine and crisis, but carry on we must.

Many of us will be completing a first full week of working from home (though it is not conventional working from home). It may prompt institutions, like government and parliament, to (finally) think about doing things differently. These enforced changes could change how we work and live for a long time to come. For years, I’ve known civil servants (in particular) amused by talk of artificial intelligence in government when their video conferencing software barely works. This might be the crisis that forces that tech to be taken up and improved, and make remote working the norm.

It won’t be quite as simple as that, of course. Once the current social distancing is over, we may crave being back in an office and jetting off round the world. Not everyone will want to – it may bring back uncomfortable memories. Loneliness is a risk. Not everyone can work from home. There are those jobs that can be done remotely, and those that can’t; those that have home situations that allow it, and those that don’t; those that have the tech and tools, and those that don’t. We may risk new divides.

The tech may not always be up to the promises made of it (will our digital infrastructure cope?). In our rush to embrace new tools, we may be handing over parts of our privacy to private companies. Governments may need emergency powers – but how long will they need to last? Our data is at the heart of much of these debates (and the long-term debate about how government uses our data needs to be had in public, with the public,for it to work). Do we risk replicating some of the issues of legacy IT, as we use different, walled, non-interoperable platforms – do we need a more decentralized web to be able to talk to each other? (Won’t somebody think of the knowledge and information management implications?) What does this all mean for government transparency and accountability? This brave new world requires all of us to ask new questions, about how we work, how we live and how we feel.

But, as big as many of these questions are and as challenging as the next few months will be, there are opportunities to make things better. People are innovating, on everything from choir rehearsals to public events. Community support groups are springing up on WhatsApp and elsewhere on the web. These times are what we choose to make of them.

And the future of work is already here, it’s just not very evenly distributed. It’s a privilege to work with so many brilliant data, digital, open government and transparency types, many of whom are used to working in different ways and have been sharing tips on how to do so. There’s a list below – it’s not intended to be comprehensive, and I won’t be updating it (I am forever haunted by this). But I hope it’s of some use. If you do want to add to an ongoing list, let me recommend the Newspeak House Coronavirus Tech Handbook, or this remote working survival kit.

These times also provide a reminder of the importance of good communication. Some governments, news outlets and social media users are proving that by the negative. But there are those using their platforms to inform, educate and (yes) entertain. You’ll find some of those examples in the links below, as ever.

Stay safe, keep in touch, and see you next week

Gavin

Tips

How to Work From Home Without Losing Your Mind (Wired, via Alex)

18F’s best practices for making distributed teams work (18F)

How to help staff adjust to remote working (Digital Leaders)

Coronavirus threat is our chance to explore working from home (Catherine Stihler, Open Knowledge, in the Herald)

Assisted Serendipity, Random Coffee and the power of the unstructured meeting (Emily Webber)

It’s OK to… Working from home version (Nick Smith, GDS)

Video lectures etc (Alasdair Rae)

Crushing it from home (Chris Yiu)

Weeknotes #16: We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. (Amanda Smith)

Things I am learning about leading a team that's newly entirely remote (Janet Hughes)

Sam Freedman

Alix Dunn

Liz Carolan

Mitchell Hashimoto

Max Gladstone

@LeenaVanD

Scott Lincicome

Sophia Collins

Call for tips (Emily Lakdawalla)

Data4SDGs

Tech

Coronavirus Tech Handbook (Newspeak House)

Remote working survival kit

Resources to support working, collaborating and training remotely (ODI)

Call for suggestions (Leigh Dodds)

Internet tools for civil servants: an introduction (UK Government – 'withdrawn', though maybe with more to follow)

Information Governance (NHSX)

Call for suggestions (LA Times graphics desk)

Call for suggestions (Ruth Levine)

Holding an online unconference (James Cattell)

Making video conferencing work better from a home office (Will Perrin, via Tom)

Learn how to run your next workshop – remotely (Equal Experts)

So You Want to Host a Web Meeting? (Nancy White, with Pete Cranston, Susan Stewart and Bonnie Koenig)

Practical Guide to Remote Meetings (CAST)

Remote classes on Zoom (Dr Andrew Schrock)

@digidatajen

GroupMap (via Gen)

Yap is the best new chatroom (The Verge)

Turning fringe meeting of cancelled @WorldBank Land & Poverty conference into great 2 hr web-workshop (via Tim Davies)

Although…

Today's links:

Graphic content

Viral content

Impact of non-pharmaceutical interventions (NPIs) to reduce COVID19 mortality and healthcare demand (Imperial College COVID-19 Response Team)

The shocking coronavirus study that rocked the UK and US* (FT)

Why outbreaks like coronavirus spread exponentially, and how to “flatten the curve” (Washington Post - free)

The most-read story ever published by the Washington Post online is a visualization (and other reasons why your organization should invest in a graphics team) (Alberto Cairo)

Coronavirus tracked: the latest figures as the pandemic spreads* (FT)

Economic confidence falls to lowest since 2008 but half think government handling the coronavirus crisis well (Ipsos MORI)

Public opinion on the COVID-19 coronavirus pandemic (Ipsos MORI)

Confirmed cases vs. deaths per capita by country (Joey Schmitt)

9 charts that explain the coronavirus pandemic (Vox)

Containing coronavirus: the lessons from Asia* (FT)

COVID-19 Dashboards (Hamel Husain)

Coronavirus: Eight charts on how it has shaken economies (BBC News)

How do coronavirus containment measures vary across Europe? (The Guardian)

U.S. Lags in Coronavirus Testing After Slow Response to Outbreak* (New York Times)

Scenarios (ProPublica)

What people will do in self-isolation (The Times)

Control of the coronavirus gives China the world’s best-performing stockmarket* (The Economist)

Coronavirus country comparator (SciencesPo Medialab)

Confirmed cases (Edward Haas, via Benoit)

These Places Could Run Out of Hospital Beds as Coronavirus Spreads* (The Upshot)

Where have cases of coronavirus spread in the UK? (The Times)

We've created a map showing the concentration of employees in what we are tentatively calling at-risk sectors (Centre for Towns)

Coronavirus – latest figures (Rob Fry)

Pollution is plummeting in Italy in the wake of coronavirus, emissions data show* (Washington Post)

#dataviz and coronavirus

Data Visualization Is Crucial for Understanding and Combatting COVID-19 (Nightingale)

Explaining and simulating the coronavirus (Alberto Cairo)

Before showing any data, explain how your visualization works (Alberto Cairo)

Partnering Health and Data Expertise for COVID-19 (Data Visualization Society)

UK government

Clear objectives will help make relocating civil servants a success (Sarah for IfG)

Local government funding in England (Graham for IfG)

Cabinet committees (Ketaki and me for IfG)

New Home Office perm sec (me for IfG)

New ministers (me for IfG)

Brexit bill progress (Maddy for IfG)

Civil service staff numbers (Benoit for IfG)

Everything else

Research Output: Alternative measures of housing affordability: financial year ending 2018 (ONS - thread)

Rough sleeping statistics: How reliable are they? (Commons Library)

Food waste is responsible for 6% of global greenhouse gas emissions (Our World in Data)

Stop the Meltdown (Meltdown Flags)

Meta data

Viral content

New data, new policy: why UK's coronavirus strategy changed (The Guardian)

GOV.UK Notify is available for the public sector to use for emergency staff communications (GDS)

Testify, Notify (GDS)

Covid-19: Making data and models open is part of the fight against it – governments must act now (ODI)

Exclusive: How Singapore sends daily Whatsapp updates on coronavirus (GovInsider)

Will the Coronavirus Break the Internet? (Slate)

The Coronavirus pandemic will shape the nature of our longer term digital future (Chi Onwurah for PoliticsHome)

While everyone's installing Zoom, I'm going to plug in my landline phone for the first time ever... (Reuben Binns)

A Call for Action #data4covid19 (The GovLab)

Covid-19 requires information hygiene as well as personal hygiene (NS Tech)

Making things open is making things better (Public Digital)

Phone location data could be used to help UK coronavirus effort (The Guardian)

The government might want your phone location data to fight coronavirus. Here’s why that could be okay. (Recode)

Whenever I hear about tech companies using "aggregated anonymous location data" to do anything (including tracking pandemics)... (Olivia Solon)

Come back, AI. All is forgiven: We know we've mocked you in the past, but we need help analyzing 26,000 papers on COVID-19, coronaviruses (The Register)

Information Governance (NHSX)

Quaran-teens: Has a youth spent online prepared millennials for isolation?* (New Statesman)

Can computers ever replace the classroom? (The Guardian)

As COVID-19 pushes classes online, some students are caught in the broadband gap (The Verge)

Viral misinformation

Facts on Coronavirus (Full Fact)

Take the quiz: New coronavirus and misinformation (Full Fact)

“I’m Not An Epidemiologist But…": The Rise Of The Coronavirus Influencers (BuzzFeed)

No, The British Army Isn't Marching Through London Because Of Coronavirus (BuzzFeed)

Here's A Running List Of The Latest Hoaxes Spreading About The Coronavirus (BuzzFeed)

YouTube Is Letting Millions Of People Watch Videos Promoting Misinformation About The Coronavirus (BuzzFeed)

Boris Johnson and the media need to inject more uncertainty into the coronavirus debate* (New Statesman)

We don’t deserve our wretched media class (UnHerd)

To Fight Covid-19, Curb the Spread of Germs—and Rumors* (Wired)

How One Particular Coronavirus Myth Went Viral* (Wired)

Pandemics & Propaganda: How Chinese State Media Shapes Conversations on The Coronavirus (Stanford Cyber Policy Center)

Coronavirus: Social giants police web with AI as staff sent home (BBC News)

Facebook fumbles its response to coronavirus (The Outline)

Scientists should take lessons from economists on virus response* (FT)

Openness

So long, and thanks for all the data* (Rachel Rank for 360Giving)

This slide comes from CabinetOffice internal guidance on handling FOI requests (Martin Rosenbaum)

OGP action planning: Not a good start (Andrew Ecclestone for Transparency International)

What happened to Freedom of Information? (politics.co.uk - more from IfG here)

The value of data

Ben and Jeni Podcast (ODI and Oxford DataLab)

Are data more like oil or sunlight?* (The Economist)

Governance models for redistribution of data value (voxeu.org)

AI, etc

Algorithms that run our lives are racist and sexist. Meet the women trying to fix them (The Correspondent - and thread)

Tackling the robot bigots: how to implement Artificial Intelligence intelligently (Global Government Forum)

Scotland to get biometrics commissioner (UK Authority)

UK government

The UK’s national data strategy is still missing in action (NS Tech)

Budget 2020: Investment in science and technology needs to bring about strong data infrastructure for the UK to thrive (ODI)

Explanatory framework for adequacy discussions (DCMS)

Everything else

Service Design in Gov talk — March 2020 (Cassie Robinson)

Data trusts in 2020 (ODI)

A future where we are all 'free to be human' (Privacy International)

What Are My Photos Revealing About Me? (The Markup)

AUDITING WITH ACCOUNTABILITY: SHRINKING THE OPPORTUNITY SPACES FOR AUDIT FAILURE (University of Sheffield, Copenhagen Business School, Luminate)

Reforming Audit in the Public Interest (Luminate)

Invisible Censorship (The Intercept)

Opportunities

JOB: Senior researcher: Whitehall Monitor (IfG - we're also looking for a researcher)

JOB: Evaluation Manager to work in the Innovation Growth Lab (Nesta)

EVENT: TICTeC’s going online (mySociety)

HOW TO: Journalism + data science projects (investigate.ai)

And finally...

Viral content

Homeschooling (via Konnie Huq)

Zoom pro-tips (Kate Buckley, David Zhou)

Cattening the curve (Anne Marie Darling)

Everything else

I like this innovative use of emoji-as-flowchart (via Gretchen McCulloch)

Geolocation... (Emily Gorcenski)

The Fixed-term Parliaments Act... (me for IfG)