#murder drones week masterpost
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space-dem0n · 3 months ago
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Its that time of year again! Murder drones week 2024 is upon us!
RULES
Please use hashtags #Murder drones week #MDweek #MDweek2024 when posting
You can do one prompt or both prompts! you don't have to do both
Oc Art is Allowed
You are allowed to repost YOUR ART to other sites as long as you use the hashtags
Feel free to tag me in any art! -
Fanart, Fanfic, Cosplay, all forms of art are welcome
Ship Art is Allowed
Proship art isnt allowed. (Nuzi is NOT proship. Feel free to ask abt ships I consider proship)
No nsfw
All skill levels welcome!
do not harass others.
You can ask any questions you need!
Please Reblog if you plan to partake!
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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years ago
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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 06 (first part)
(Masterpost)(Episode 05)
Warning: This contains spoilers for All 50 Episodes
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Bad Boys Bad Boys What You Gonna Do
Nie Huasang’s brought his nuts, and someone’s brought wine, so the boys are drinking in Wei Wuxian’s guest house. Finally he gets to drink some of the Emperor’s Smile wine that he’s been doing all those product placements for.
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Boys, get a bowl or something for your shells, were you raised in a barn?
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Wei Wuxian hits on waxes poetic about the wine, and Jiang Cheng tells him to shut up. 
Wang Zhuocheng’s raw-fish-eating face may have failed him, but his drunk faces do not disappoint.
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Wei Wuxian teases Jiang Cheng about his list of standards for a chick: She should have natural beauty, be virtuous and caring, from a good family, not too talkative, with a gentle voice, and not too capable. Also she should not spend too much money. Drunken running ensues.
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Cue Maple Leaf Rag by Scott Joplin
(more behind the cut)
Much of the fandom has decided this list is a good fit for Nie Huaisang himself, and it sorta is. But he is both talkative and unvirtuous, what with all the current sneakiness, and all the eventual murders. 
This also definitely doesn't fit Wen Qing because she's capable as hell.  
This list is, however, a 100% a match for Jiang Yanli. Not in a weird, Jin Guangyao way--a lot of men want to marry a woman like their sister.  In a gender-divided and generation-divided society, a man’s sister might be the only woman he’s ever known well. Jiang Cheng adores Yanli and she’s his ideal model of a woman, as opposed to his mother, who...isnt.  
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All these robes and talismans over the door do nothing to stop Lan Wangji from strolling in.  
Okay so - Lan Wangji is the senior disciple of the Lan Clan, yea? There is no way that patrolling the guest area is in any way his job. He is just walking around here at night specifically to see what Wei Wuxian is doing.
I already did a gifpost of the boys and their totally nonsexual horseplay, over here. I’ll just add, for sad factor, that Jiang Cheng is play-choking Wei Wuxian when they’re all on the bed, and later in the running-and-crying episode he is gonna for-real choke him. Foreshadowing! or maybe just coincidence!
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One fun thread running through the young-cultivators episodes is that Nie Huaisang is legit terrified of Lan Wangji while also having a major aesthetic crush on him. Look at how flustered he is here, trying to act sober while also checking him out. 
Lan Wangji is shocked and visibly upset - what are you guys doing? This is not his busting face, this is, for a moment, his vulnerable and disillusioned face. He is super not used to what normal people are like. 
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Wei Wuxian doesn't lie or otherwise try to get off the hook, which has got to have Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang grinding their teeth in frustration. He invites Lan Wangji to join them for a drink. LWJ cites a the “no drinking on campus” rule and WWX tries to convince him to chill. 
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Then we have this lovely coordinated faint by the boys, to get out of going to get punished. Nie Huaisang has been practicing fainting in front of a mirror just in case he ever needs a skill like that in the future. 
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Wei Wuxian keeps trying to turn this into a date. Eventually Lan Wangji is so upset he admits he can’t take all three of them by himself. 
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Then the boys run away fake-barfing and Wei Wuxian hits Lan Wangji with a talisman. 
Steal His Agency That’s What You’re Gonna Do
What Wei Wuxian does to Lan Wanji here is definitely wrong. But it's not entirely a disaster.  It allows some crucial information to be shared between them, and it results in Wei Wuxian getting the utter shit beat out of him and never doing this again. I mean, he continues to mind-control his enemies and their eventual corpses, but he doesn't intentionally violate a friend or ally's autonomy in the future. Uhh not counting that whole golden core surgery-without-consent situation. And probably some other situations I’ve forgotten. He improves slightly, okay? 
It’s important to note, incidentally, that the Lan rules about drinking and other “vices” should not be viewed through a Christian lens. The Lans are neither puritans nor ascetics (look at their clothes, furniture, and jewelry, for starters). Being drunk is forbidden probably because it’s a loss of self-control. 
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Speaking of self-control, mad props to Wang Yibo for being able to have zero physical reaction to fingers snapping in his face.
Drunk Lan Wangji
Under duress, Lan Wangji knocks back a cup of wine and promptly passes most of the way out. 
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Wei Wuxian puts Lan Wangji into bed not unkindly, but pretty much like a sack of potatoes. Compare this to how tenderly he handles Lan Wangji the next time he’s drunk. 
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WWX tells LWJ to call him Wei Gege, and giggles. Is this a term of endearment in this context? So far the various boys are calling each other -xiong, not -ge or gege.  In Western media, men calling each other “bro” is basically saying “no homo,” but brotherhood and sisterhood in C-Drama is often a way of indicating stronger love than friendship, without saying whether it's sexual or not. 
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They finally start to have a conversation, and when Lan Wangji explains that no-one can touch his headband except, etc etc, Wei Wuxian stops trying to touch it. So at least he's not a handsy bastard in addition to all his other faults. 
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Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji that his clan is boring and women won't want to marry him. Lan Wangji says that's fine. On one level this is the show acknowledging that he's gay, but I think he's responding in a gender-neutral way; he doesn't want to marry anyone. Marriage, from his perspective, is the literal worst. 
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We don't know how he felt about his father, but he definitely loved his mother deeply, and she had a profoundly unhappy marriage, in which her husband did not provide companionship and her children were taken from her.
A note about all that: The dynamics of heterosexual marriages in The Untamed are not based on contemporary companionate marriage. Sex and reproduction is a wife's job in this world, and giving a gentry woman the option to choose her husband is radical. Wei Wuxian is the only one who dares say that Jiang Yanli should have a choice when Jin Guangshan casually tries to give her to his son in front of everyone.  
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OP made this today but will totally reuse it when episode 23 rolls around
So Lan Wangji’s parents' marriage was extremely problematic but not necessarily for the reasons it would be in contemporary terms. Having signed on to marry Lan Dad, Mom would have expected to live together and get laid regularly (important for health, in some traditional views, regardless of love/no love) and to have the company of her children. Instead, she was isolated. Lan Dad wanted to have it both ways and so even though he loved her and apparently hooked up with her sometimes, he didn't do his duty by her. She didn't love him but she did her duty. 
Wei Wuxian continues to not get it, calling Lan Wangji dull and babbling about Lan Wangji’s parents until he realizes that LWJ is an orphan like him. 
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A nice shift happens here. Once the penny drops, Wei Wuxian doesn't ask a single additional question - he just sees - by reading Lan Wangji’s face - what the deal is, and shares his own story to show he understands. 
This is the first time Wei Wuxian mentions being chased by dogs, which is kind of a big deal, because why was he left all alone when his parents died? 
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Why didn't anyone take him in before Jiang Fengmian found him? How isolated are independent cultivators in this world? 
Tea Time
Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen are having tea, and the Lan Clan is so uptight they don't touch each other's teacups. I don't know what this thing is called so I'm going to call it a tea speculum. 
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Lan Qiren is back from the cultivation conference and says the red crack plague is happening over in Qinghe where the Nie clan lives.  Lan Xichen fills him in on the water demon, specifically saying Wei Wuxian figured out the connection to the red crack dudes, and explaining who WWX is, as if Lan QIren hadn't already thrown stuff at him and threatened to eventually kill him. 
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Fun fact that I just noticed this week so didn't make it into earlier posts: In Episode 46, when Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are in the Jiang ancestral hall, WWX says he was often punished to kneel there, and LWJ said that they heard about this in Gusu.  
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So when WWX came to Gusu he already had a reputation as a troublemaker, and the Lan brothers were aware of it.   
Busted and Beaten
A Lan snitch comes in to say that Wei Wuxian has successfully corrupted Lan Wangji, which really shouldn’t cause as much surprise as it does.
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“Wei Wuxian got drunk”
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“Lan Wangji got drunk”
Lan Xichen takes a moment to consider carefully whether Wei Wuxian is a good friend for his little brother and whether perhaps he was too hasty in throwing them together. Ha ha ha no he doesn’t. 
On the punishment porch, Lan Xichen tries to lecture Lan Wangji in a calm way, but Lan Qiren wants to beat him and Lan Wangji wants to get beat. Wei Wuxian can’t understand why Lan Wangji doesn’t let him take the blame for the drinking. 
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Lan Qiren goes way the fuck overboard with this punishment because he's angry--losing control and losing his sense of proportion--and Lan Xichen is shocked. The drone camera watching from above is also shocked.  
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Lan Qiren has a few (very few) redeeming qualities, but his extreme rigidity and chronic resentment of anyone he perceives as bad are serious problems. His nephews are both struggling with complex moral quandaries as they get older, and he is absolutely no help to them in resolving their conflicts.
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This is definitely...a style of parenting & teaching, but you can see how poorly it works, with Lan Wangji straight up saying “fuck it” after many years of conformity.  Lan Xichen is devoted to the middle path and tries to be obedient. But he is actually not walking anywhere near the middle path, as he gets pulled into colluding with a murderer at the same time as getting dragged onto his brother’s carnival ride. These men need parenting that isn’t so, uh, fucking stupid. (Yes, grown adults still need good parenting; watch Go Ahead if you doubt me) 
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Wei Wuxian initially yells and falls down when he gets hit, but then he sees Lan Wangji is taking the beating without any reaction and he tries to do the same. 
Aftermath
Jiang Yanli gently lectures the boys, blaming Jiang Cheng for Wei Wuxian's drinking.  Jesus Christ, he's the younger sibling, could you just NOT, Yanli?  
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Both boys ask Yanli not to tell their parents. The boys bicker about who's at fault and then Wei Wuxian shifts to baby voice and starts whining to Yanli about the pain. 
Yanli tells him to suck it up, and says after school she'll -- ok and I know this will be a surprise for everyone -- make soup for them. The boys immediately get back on the same team, which is team Please Put Meat In the Soup.
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There's a nice character building moment for Wei Wuxian here. When he sees Lan Xichen he initially turns away to avoid running into him, but then he adults-up and goes to face him and greet him, giving him a half of a bow because of the pain, the pain. Rather than complaining about his punishment he meekly asks if he's broken another rule. 
Lan Xichen tells him that he did wrong but that Lan Qiren’s punishment was too harsh, and then in what is one of my favorite Lan Xichen moments, invites Wei Wuxian to use the cold spring to heal, but doesn't invite Jiang Cheng to go with him even though Jiang Cheng also was beaten. Lan Xichen, Matchmaker Auntie Extraordinaire. 
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Then he answers Wei Wuxian’s question about his mom by saying she was just like Wei Wuxian and drove Lan Qiran up the wall. Jiang Cheng's reaction to that is really sweet. He does enjoy Wei Wuxian at the same time as being constantly irritated by him. 
Lan Xichen does his patented “breaking off in the middle of saying something and leaving out a chunk of the story” maneuver, although this time he doesn't include a flute solo. 
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OP is mildly obsessed with Xuan Lu’s shoulders in this outfit. Also Yanli has an interesting sword, that's got some wood carving similar to Subian, but without the organic look, which OP only noticed because of screen capping Xuan Lu’s shoulders.  
Club Ruohan
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Wen Qing continues to be pretty and slightly evil at this stage, sending magic fire notes to her boss using this talisman that is definitely floating in the air and not just hanging from a string. 
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Wen Ruohan is in the mosh pit with his zombie groupies while he reads Wen Qing’s extremely vague status update and says "it all makes sense." 
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Reach out and touch faith
Soundtrack
Maple Leaf Rag by Scott Joplin Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode
Writing Prompt
How did Wei Wuxian’s parents die?
Admin Notes
I’m going to start spacing out my “first part” and “second part” posts by a few days.  I’ll update this post to link up the second part once I post it, and my masterpost is always up to date. 
Also: if you want more of my original content but don’t want to follow my whole blog (not following is fine!), I keep a pinboard of fun stuff at the top of my blog. I try to post original content at least once a week.
Continued in the second part later this week!
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eeveevie · 5 years ago
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Salvation is a Last Minute Business (1/18)
Chapter 1: That Dame Upstairs
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One year later, on the anniversary of Nate’s death, Madelyn is still struggling emotionally. Nick Valentine, her friend and partner, celebrate Christmas together, and begin work on a string of disappearances that may be connected to crime boss Eddie Winter with the help of reporter Piper Wright. On New Year’s Eve, Madelyn gets the first hint that she may already be in too deep.
“I was thinking about that dame upstairs, and the way she had looked at me, and I wanted to see her again, close, without that silly staircase between us.” – Walter Neff as played by Fred MacMurray (Double Indemnity, 1944)
[read on Ao3] ~ [chapter masterpost]
July 6th, 1946
Shelly’s Shake Shack always had a peculiar smell, Madelyn thought. Like the busboys used too much bleach when wiping down the tables or there was too much acetone in the paint swiped across the vinyl finish of the bar. Regardless of the questionable scent, it was her and Nate’s go-to spot, their tradition ever since sneaking out that one fateful night in sophomore year of high school. When she thought about it now, just five days after her eighteenth birthday, and with college on the horizon, the niche atmosphere felt very nostalgic.
“What are you thinking about?”
Nate had his elbow up on the countertop, cheek pressed into his palm as he gazed at her. His eyebrows waggled suggestively, green eyes bright as they danced across her face. Madelyn could only laugh, though his question harkened a million thoughts to bounce through her mind, struggling to land on a specific one.
“Everything,” she decided to answer, piquing his interest.
“Oooh,” he cooed, sliding closer so his shoulder bumped hers. “I hope that includes me.”
Madelyn didn’t humor him with an answer, hiding her bashful grin behind her menu. It hardly mattered that she always ordered the same thing every time—a strawberry milkshake with a small stack of ‘shack fries’ for dipping. Soon enough, the handsome man she called her boyfriend peeked over the laminated edge, beaming smile distracting her from the candy red lettering she wasn’t even trying to read.
“You seem to be thinking of something,” she commented, noting the rosy color on his cheeks and how they accented his barely-there freckles. “Care to indulge?”
Nate shrugged, playing coy. He was staring at her, a pastime of his that he could make a career out of, if he wasn’t already committed to joining the Army now that he was of age. His expression softened, eyes slowly blinking, trancelike. She was about to ask him again when he spoke.
“We should get married,” he said it with such casual gumption that Madelyn didn’t catch what he said at first. “Maddie?”
She did a doubletake of where he sat on the barstool next to her, twisting left-to-right as he faced her silence. The sound of her heart pounding in her chest echoed in her ears but she was more dumbfounded than nervous. “What? Is that a real proposal?”  
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
Suddenly her mind went quiet and she was unable to produce an answer for a second time, but for a completely different reason—she was speechless. Madelyn gaped, utterly gob-smacked at his calm and relaxed demeanor. Only then did she think to question him, call his bluff one more time.
“Do you even have a ring?” she asked, almost defiantly, ignoring the way Nate was softly chuckling at her. “Did you even ask daddy?”
Nate sat upright, snatching her left hand in his as he slowly sank down to the tiled floor on one knee. “Baby, I’m no fool.”
Madelyn gasped, the surreal magnitude of what was occurring washing over her. He pulled a small, black velvet box from his jacket pocket and inside was a ring she had only dreamed of wearing—a silver band with two inlaid diamonds on either side of a modest, solitaire cut centerpiece—it looked like a sparkling flower.
“My parents might not agree, but they hate everything. But my grammie always liked you, so she entrusted me with this in the hopes that you’d wear it.” His rambling explanation was the first real indication that he was absolutely petrified. Nate filled the space between them with more words. “You know, as my wife.”
He let out the most adorable, breathless laugh. “Madelyn Hardy, please do me the honor of becoming my wife,” he squeezed her hand, thumb brushing across her knuckles. “Say you’ll marry me?”
“Nathaniel James,” she mimicked in reply, sure her cheeks would be sore from smiling so much. She reached out with her free hand to weave her fingers through his thick auburn hair before resting her fingers along his cheek. “Yes. A hundred—a million times, yes.”
December 24th, 1957
“Mrs. James?”
The voice pulled Madelyn from her deep trance, forcing her to blink several times as she lifted her gaze from her tightly clenched hands in the skirt of her dark-blue dress to the circle of people looking at her expectantly. Embarrassment settled in when she realized she had zoned out during the meeting, falling into another memory from the past she was desperate to cling to. That wasn’t the first time she had drifted away while the other widows and family members droned on about their departed loved ones, and if she continued coming to these gatherings, it wouldn’t be the last. She knew the support group was supposed to help her get over Nate’s untimely death—his murder—but so far each meeting had left her feeling just as empty as that Christmas Eve in 1956.
“Mrs. James,” the counselor leading the session repeated her name and Madelyn didn’t bother to correct her—she hadn’t used Nate’s surname in months. “Would you like to share with the group?”
Madelyn swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling the insurmountable pressure of stranger’s eyes silently imploring an answer. Their stares were filled with sympathy and sadness, something she was annoyed with seeing when people looked at her. For a year straight, sorrow filled expressions was all she knew, and she was sick of it. Still, guilt over her continued silence consumed her. Since she started attending the ‘circle of misery’—perhaps a poor codename she kept to herself—she hadn’t shared her story of loss. It was wrong of her to compare her grief to the others, but selfishly, she doubted there was anyone that truly felt the pain she carried with her every agonizing day.
She twisted the wedding ring on her finger. “Not today. I’m sorry.”
The counselor was clearly disappointed, but Madelyn was relieved when she wasn’t pushed for further information. She settled back into her chair, staring past the group as another person spoke, sharing a story about his deceased wife. It was difficult to stay focused when all the stories sound the same. Somebody died, either by disease or tragically—in a car accident, in the war years ago—sometimes by suicide. A few mourned the missing—up and vanished without a trace—there was no closure for them. But nobody was processing an unsolved murder—she was alone in that anguish.
Madelyn thought about the present rather than the past in order to distract herself. She visualized how much paperwork was left on her desk at the detective agency, envisioning the stack that awaited her—at least she had her own space to work out of. When she was first assigned to the Valentine Detective Agency, she was still a legal aid for the District Attorney’s Office, a year away from graduating law school and passing the bar, a year away from watching her husband die right before her eyes. At first the assignment was handed to her as a joke to keep her busy, out of the way of ‘the boys’. Nick Valentine was considered a laughingstock to many—the police, the courts, the political bigwigs. But a friendship quickly developed between her and the grizzled gumshoe and she quickly realized that the city hadn’t isolated him out of laughter, but out of fear.
She maintained her position with the investigator after becoming an attorney, providing legal counsel on the various cases from lost kittens to grand larceny. After all, Nick had been her closest confidant after Nate’s murder, working to keep the case open when leads dried up with the Boston Police Department. The way Madelyn saw it, she needed Nick and he needed her, a kinship made over crime and punishment. Though, she knew her work ethic had been declining in recent weeks and it was too easy to blame it all on the anniversary of Nate’s death. Another year without him, another year without catching the son-of-a-bitch who ended his life.
A chair squeaked and Madelyn snapped out of her daze to find the session around her disbanding. She forced a polite smile to her lips as others, all strangers, said their goodbyes, offering hollow condolences when they knew so little about her. Did they even know her name? What she did for a living? That she carried a gun in her purse for protection just in case the same man who killed Nate came back for her? She was pulling on her winter coat when she felt somebody looming behind her. The last thing she wanted was to be dragged into another conversation with the group leader about how she needed to open up—or worse—be set up with a fellow attendee. She was already forming the excuses in her head of getting back to the office despite the hour, despite the looming holiday when hands—one warm, one cold—joined her in a familiar way, helping her tug her coat into place.
“So, Mrs. James,” Nick’s teasing tone had her spinning on her heel to face him.
Whatever alarm she felt dissipated as she took in the familiar sight of his faded brown trench-coat, the edges frayed by many years in the field. Underneath he wore his usual dark-grey suit, silver pin shining, keeping his ironed black tie in place. Tucked under one arm was his trusty fedora, just as weathered as his outerwear. He always refused a replacement, as if doing so would deter from his character—maybe he was onto something with that theory. Nick smoothed out the lapels of her coat before pulling his hands away, twisting his right hand awkwardly, probing the wrist with his left fingers. His right had long been a prosthetic, lost in the war when he was just a youth, rebuilt over time thanks to the modern marvels at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. For Madelyn, it was just another part that made Nick who he was.
“I wasn’t ready today,” she explained under his silent, scrutinizing gaze. “I know, I know. I promised. I’m sorry.”
Nick half-shrugged, unbothered. “You don’t have to apologize to me, doll.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked, gathering her handbag from the community table. It didn’t matter that he knew she came to these meetings, knew all about the demons she struggled to face in her day-to-day. He had his own life outside the agency—it wasn’t always broken leads and dead ends.  
“It’s Christmas Eve Nick, shouldn’t you be at the in-laws with Jenny?”
“They aren’t my in-laws yet,” he laughed in response.
Jennifer Lands—Nick’s fiancé and one shining light in his plight to rid Boston of scum and treachery. She was a day-nurse at the New England Medical Center, who had met Nick when he was first starting out, chasing ambulances downtown. Jenny was a true Boston spit-fire—red hair and ocean eyes—tall and slender like she walked right out of a Billy Wilder picture-film. She could talk for hours on end about fashion and Hollywood gossip but just as quickly educate you on Gray’s Anatomy. While others might have been jealous, Madelyn saw her as the perfect match for the detective—cool and calm met fiery and hot.
“She knows where I am,” he further explained.
The realization dawned on Madelyn all over again and she sighed, disappointed, more so in herself. “I don’t need a babysitter just because today is—” she tapered off, unable to speak the words. “I just need to go home or go to the office. Stay busy. That’s what I need.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “I was thinking what you needed was a friend.”
He always was good at calling her bluff, especially when she wasn’t feeling up to crafting an elaborate charismatic show of words to indicate otherwise. Madelyn relented with another exhale, tucking her arm around his elbow when he offered. “It’s a long walk.”
Nick tucked his fedora atop his feathered, dark-brown hair, adjusting it so it was firmly in place. “Isn’t it always?”
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Madelyn’s Cambridge apartment was modest enough for a single—widowed—woman. One bedroom, one bath, a tiny living space, and a kitchen she wished was larger for entertaining guests. Even as an attorney, her wages paled in comparison to those of her male counterparts, and Nate’s military benefits hardly helped to bridge the gap. There was her late parent’s estate, but she pretended it didn’t exist—it was meant for her children—but with Nate gone, that dream seemed futile. Now, it was a last-resort safety net, just in case she royally fucked up (and if she made a mistake that large, she had every right to be using foul language).
Her apartment had other quirks too. The elevator never worked, the hot water ran out at the most inconvenient of times, and her next-door neighbor Myrna was too suspicious for her own good, always ranting and raving about how every stranger in the building was there to kidnap her and replace her brain with wires. It wasn’t surprising that that she recoiled anytime Nick paid a visit. The seventh floor also housed a baseball coach, a Vault-Tec salesman, and a man she only knew as Robby—but she hardly saw or spoke to them, everybody coming and going at odd hours of the night, including herself.
As soon as Madelyn and Nick passed the threshold of apartment D, a sharp bark greeted them both. Dogmeat—a silly name for a German shepherd, but it was the one the collar had etched into it when she found him abandoned at the Red Rocket gas station. Madelyn had tried to track down the owners of the puppy but had no luck. Six months later, she had a full-grown dog, ever faithful to its rescuer. The furry companion had been just what she needed to help quell the lonely nights.
“Hey Dogmeat,” Nick greeted, patting the dog’s muzzle as it nudged against his pant leg. “Doing a good job protecting the lady of the house?”
The dog barked in reply even as she tutted her disapproval. “I can protect myself.”
“You know I worry about you, Madelyn.” The use of her full name had her focusing on Nick as she discarded her coat, hanging it on the nearby rack before offering to take his. He shrugged the trench off, passing his hat along with it. “We all do. We just want to make sure you’re happy.”
Madelyn wondered who ‘we’ was alluding to. She silently gestured for him to sit on the couch before circling to the kitchen, clinking together two shallow glasses as she pulled them from the cabinet. The whiskey she poured was cheap, but she knew neither of them cared, and emptied what little was left of the bottle. She handed him the frosted glass and he nodded in appreciation, biting back a wince at the fouler-than-usual taste.
“I’m doing the best I can,” she assured with a small smile, gulping down her sip of the amber liquid. “Thank you, Nick.”
He tilted his chin up in a nod, glancing up at her with his light green eyes. Under the light of her living room, they almost looked yellow. “Sure, sure.”
The two sat in amiable silence, nursing their alcohol until Madelyn noticed they’d arrived just in time to catch Jack Hynes’ broadcast on her television set. At first, the nightly report was mundane—the Red Sox charity game canceled due to snow, Mayor McDonough’s annual lighting of downtown’s Christmas tree, a runaway swan in Boston Common. But then, the broadcast took a somber turn when the screen flashed the image of an infant boy before cutting to a news conference held earlier in the day.
“…please, if you’re listening, we just want our son back,” the weeping mother turned away in her sorrow, into her husband’s chest. His voice echoed into the microphones instead. “Shaun, if you’re listening, we love you. Please come home.”
“Poor kid has been missing since ’47,” Nick interrupted, pulling Madelyn’s attention away from the screen.
She was startled by his revelation. “What?”
He took a long sip of his whiskey, holding a grim expression as he spoke. “That was my first case after coming home from the war, after the folks at MIT fixed me up,” Nick shook his head, the recollection painful in his mind. He was only seven years older than her, and yet had a lifetime of scars and memories that had aged him—made him wiser, but also bitter towards those who escaped justice. “Never could figure out who would want to steal a baby.”
“Doesn’t look like the Boston P.D. has had better luck,” she replied, knowing it was of little solace.
By the time she looked back to the TV, Hynes was speaking about the decreasing crime rate in the city proper, ironic considering the previous story. Despite the information, the next name out of his mouth had Nick on high alert.
“Eddie Winter is expected to be released from the Massachusetts Correctional Institution at Cedar Junction later this week, a full six months earlier than his originally scheduled discharge date. Department officials comment Winter’s release is due to quote, good behavior, unquote. At this time, the District Attorney’s office has declined to comment on pending cases against the notorious Boston businessman.”  
“Businessman, my ass,” Nick bristled, his anger clear as he gripped the glass so tightly in his prosthetic hand she could almost hear the plastic and metal threatening to shatter into pieces. “Even the news is too afraid to call it like it is. He’s a thug. A gangster. A no-good crime boss responsible for far more than money laundering and white-collar crime.”
Madelyn couldn’t say anything to calm Nick when he was worked up like that. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before—he had been chasing Eddie Winter for years, always two steps behind the infamous mobster. Even she believed the case against him was clear cut—cases—but her bosses at the District Attorney’s office said otherwise, always misdirecting with bureaucracy and politics. As the years dragged on, and the crimes and bodies began to pile up, Nick and Madelyn started to believe there was a conspiracy afoot. But alleging collusion was one thing, proving it was another.  
She poured the rest of her drink into his and he gladly shot it back—the action seemed to calm his nerves. Nick sighed, forlorn as he rested the empty glass on her coffee table with a loud clink. She already knew the answer, but she had to ask. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to catch the son-of-a-bitch.”
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December 25th, 1957
“Merry Christmas boy,” Madelyn ruffled the fur atop Dogmeat’s head, scratching his ear as he yipped in return. He was all too happy to greet her that morning, even if he looked at her inquisitively, tilting his head back and forth as she dressed for the day. Nothing extravagant, but she figured she might as well wear red, given the holiday. “I’m only going out to visit the office. Just for a little while. Maybe visit the church. Maybe. I’ll be back before nightfall.”
Dogmeat barked as if he understood every word. Perhaps he did, the smart dog that he was. As Madelyn passed through the hall she paused before the open storage closet, peeking inside at the contents with a frown. She had been in the process of unboxing her holiday decorations the previous week when she decided against it, unable to fathom the emotional strength. A second Christmas without Nate—this was how her life would be measured now—counting the years, how many significant dates had passed without him. Inside the small room was another unopened box, a Mister Handy robot—a Christmas gift from Nate—the last gift from Nate. She couldn’t bear to open or activate it.
Before leaving, Madelyn made sure to leave Dogmeat a treat of sliced roast in his food bowl, tuning the radio to fill the quiet room with holiday music so the pup wouldn’t feel so alone. With her fur lined coat wrapped tightly around her, she left the safeguard of her apartment for the snow packed streets.
Valentine Detective Agency was just a quick taxi ride south over the Charles River bridge, a small nondescript building nestled in the Kenmore neighborhood. Nick liked to joke that if you didn’t know where you were going, caught up in the hustle and bustle of the crowds or the alluring bright green walls of the baseball stadium, you’d end up in the middle of Fenway park. But right there on Jersey Street stood the faded brick building with the red neon light, the flashing, arrow pierced heart a dead giveaway she was in the right spot.
Madelyn was only slightly surprised to find the office doors unlocked, sliding away the key back into her purse as she entered the dimly lit space. Ellie Perkins, Nick’s longtime secretary was absent, sent home for the holiday, the front room void of any visitors. Behind the receptionist’s desk were two doors, each with black lettering etched into the frosted glass panes. The one with Madelyn’s name was closed, but Nick’s was open, two echoing voices in the midst of discussion.
Inside she found the detective at his desk, suit jacket discarded over the back of his chair, tie loosened, but his fedora still firmly in place. He was shuffling through the disorganized pile of casefiles littered before him, lips wrapped firmly around a freshly lit cigarette. The full ashtray told Madelyn it had been a busy morning, or a long night. Occupying one of the armchairs in front of the oak tabletop was none other than Piper Wright, the woman who ran her own newspaper—Publick Occurrences—in the office space upstairs.  
Piper had made a name for herself in Boston with her independent publication—she was no Boston Bugle, and could never compete with the national affiliates, but her reputation for gathering the cold, hard truth put her in the forefront of a lot of newsreaders’ minds. It also made her a lot of enemies, sticking her nose where it didn’t belong for the next big story. Birds of a feather, as they say—she knew Nick and Madelyn could be trusted, and over the last year, the three had become good friends.
“Oh hey, Blue,” Piper greeted, glancing over the back of the chair to look at her in the doorway. Madelyn had never determined where the nickname had originated—maybe her eyes, the affinity for the color—Piper never explained. She lifted up an unfolded newspaper. “I was just reading Nicky the Christmas edition of Publick Occurrences. Care to join?”
Madelyn softly laughed as she peeled off her coat and hooked it over her arm before sinking into the opposite chair. Piper was leaned back, black Mary-Jane heels propped up on Nick’s desk—either he was too focused to notice or didn’t care. Her ruby-red jacket was slung over her lap along with her matching press cap—a definitive look no reporter in town could replicate.
“Mayor McDonough’s Police Gala: Charity or Swindle? —I wrote an expose on how much of the taxpayer’s money is spent on his annual New Year’s Eve party. An insider says that all that charity money that is raised isn’t even sent to the hospitals! It’s lining the politician’s coats!”
“Not surprising,” Nick mumbled between a drag of his cigarette.
Madelyn smiled to herself—what Eddie Winter was to Nick Valentine, Mayor Guy McDonough was to Piper Wright. Perhaps the main difference was that one wasn’t an outright criminal (that any of them were aware of), but the two reeked of corruption. Piper was far more vocal in her displeasure of McDonough’s actions, using her freedom of the press to convey her contention.
“I can’t wait till an election year,” she sighed, tilting her head against the cushion. “Did you know his brother has started a grassroots campaign to see him kicked out of office?”
Madelyn was curious. For all her political dealings downtown, she didn’t know the mayor had a brother. Another coverup from the boy’s club? She had to clarify. “His brother?”
“John McDonough, he’s younger than the mayor, about Nick’s age. I don’t know him personally, but I admire his tenacity,” Piper grinned.
“He’s a rabble-rouser, trying to stir up trouble,” Nick commented with a grimace. “That kind of man is dangerous, if you ask me. He should leave any crusading to the professionals.”
“Are we knights now, Nicky?” Piper laughed, folding her paper away. “I could use a big pointy sword, might get some informants to start talking.”
Madelyn shook her head with a sigh. “What did I say about threatening civilians?”
Piper flashed her best Hollywood glamor-girl smile, batting her eyelashes as she flipped the back of her hand through her curled, ebony hair. “Charm first, shoot last.”
Nick blanched. “We should’ve never given her a gun.”
Piper’s heels clicked against the floor as she shifted to lean against the desk, trying to peek at any files she could see. Madelyn and Nick were careful with how much information she was privy to, friend or not. The agency wasn’t affiliated with the police—hell—the Boston Police Department didn’t even give them the time of day unless they were compelled to, or on the rare occasion took pity on the gumshoe and his lady sidekick. But Piper was no ordinary citizen—she had more knowledge of the city than any beat cop or tenured investigator—a valuable asset when it came to cracking cases.
“How many have gone missing this month?” she asked, glancing between the desk and Nick.
“Twelve,” Madelyn responded glumly. “Nick is convinced there’s a connection to Winter’s gang.”
“Damn,” Piper cursed, straightening. “That’s more than last month—that’s more than last year!”
“Which is why it can’t be a coincidence Winter is ramping up business,” Nick grumbled, stubbing out his smoke as he leaned back in his chair to look at his companions. “His underlings have been busy. Shaking down local businesses, raiding warehouses, encroaching on smaller gang territories to snuff them out. The police don’t want to link the recent gang war murders to him, but I will.”
“Damn,” Piper repeated, this time with a cautious expression. “You sure about all that? How deep have you been digging?”
Madelyn had similar concerns, but she wasn’t going to voice them in front of Piper. Instead, she allowed Nick to continue, tapping his hand against a stack of papers. She leaned forward to snatch them up before the reporter could. Scribbled in Nick’s barely legible scrawl were two words—the Railroad—with a question mark beside.
“The Railroad?” she whispered, confused by what it meant.
Piper’s eyes widened, like she had won the jackpot in a Las Vegas casino. “The Railroad? Where did you hear about the Railroad?”
“Came up only recently. Had it pinned as gossip, but your reaction has me second guessing my intuition,” Nick eyed her carefully, waiting for the insider information.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” she responded in a breathy laugh. “Honestly, as much hearsay as I gather about the Railroad, I can’t ever find any concrete proof they actually exist, beyond a cryptic phrase; ‘follow the Freedom Trail’.”
“The Freedom Trail downtown?” Madelyn questioned, to which Piper nodded. “A tourist trap. How bizarre.”
Nick struck a match as he lit up another cigarette. “Peculiar catchphrases aside, one has to wonder if they are tied up in these disappearances. Working with Winter.”
“A shell company?” Madelyn offered, looking to Piper.
The newswoman shook her head, doubtful of the accusation. “I’m uncertain they are nefarious. Mysterious? Sure. But as evil as Eddie Winter or McDonough? I’d rather have proof in hand before drawing any conclusions.”  
“That’s saying something,” Nick dryly chuckled.
Piper didn’t linger for very much longer, leaving her newspaper for the two to finish perusing. She’d see the two in a few days, as Madelyn’s plus-two to that reprehensible police gala—perhaps one good thing she was able to leverage for her and Nick from her job at the District Attorney’s office. At best, it would gain the group leads for news stories and cases. At worst, they’d be drunk on expensive champagne before Auld Lang Syne. Almost as soon as they were left alone, Nick produced a brand-new bottle of Irish whiskey from his desk, struggling a moment to fish for two clean glasses.
“How long have you been working?” Madelyn asked, noting the strain in his eyes.
Nick muttered something unintelligible, the smoke bobbing between his lips as he poured, pausing in after-thought to add some more. “Jenny got called into the hospital late last night, so I decided to come in. I know she’ll call me when it’s time to come home. I can celebrate Jesus’s birthday then.”
“Isn’t she Jewish?”
Nick waved his hand as he offered the glass of whiskey, a look that simply said don’t start now. Madelyn pursed her lips with a smile, content that there had been some humor in her day after all, if only for a moment. The whiskey was much better than the swill she had served the night before, smoother as it slid down her throat in a delightful burn, hitting all the right spots. Even though they had both taken several sips, Nick raised his glass in a toast.
“Merry Christmas, Madelyn.”
“Merry Christmas, Nick.” 
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December 31st, 1957
Faneuil Hall had been adorned floor to ceiling in gold and silver, balloons and streamers, glitter and confetti strewn about the historic halls. Madelyn wondered what the Founding Fathers that once gathered there would think of the gaudy decorations. Probably dump them in the Boston Harbor—they seemed to be into that sort of thing when they disapproved of something. The idea alone had her wishing Samuel Adams was there now, if only to scoff at the waste of Bostonian taxpayer’s dollars.  
Mayor McDonough’s New Year’s Eve police gala was in full swing by the time she arrived, uniformed officers and detectives gathered in the downstairs hall, basking in their glory like peacocks in a zoo. Madelyn found it all very amusing as she checked her coat, smoothing out the lines of her baby blue gown as she peered around for someone familiar. She noticed some bigwig lawyers from the District Attorney’s office that never gave her the time of day, and a few defense attorneys that were slimy enough she didn’t want to risk walking within a ten-foot radius of where they stood.
“Blue! Over here!”
Madelyn turned to find Piper, all dolled up in a floor-length, red evening gown, waving her towards the meeting hall. It had been reconfigured into a dancefloor, couples paired off as they waltzed to the live band playing on the nearby stage. The two women continued up the stairs to the overlooking balconies where by one tinsel wrapped pillar stood a penguin-suited Nick Valentine and his lady luck, Jennifer Lands.
“Ah, the woman who’s been keeping my Nicky safe when I can’t keep an eye on him,” Jenny winked, blue eyes sparkling. The dark green dress she wore was in sharp, beautiful contrast to her fiery red curls, tucked up in the latest hairstyle from the pages of Vogue. “Oh but it is good to see you, Mads.”
“Likewise, Jenny,” she greeted, the two sharing a warm hug and kiss on the cheek. “I do apologize for all the late nights.”
The soon-to-be Mrs. Valentine waved her hand dismissively. “Better to know where he is, fighting the good fight, than have me pacing in the kitchen wondering which sleazy bar or motel my schmuck is lost in like these poor women do.”
Madelyn tried not to laugh, avoiding the stares of the prim-and-proper officer wives that roamed around them. Piper and Jenny indulged in their amusement, gaggling like schoolchildren while Nick sighed—but even he was cracking a grin. More laughter and jokes flowed between the four, more so as a passing waiter handed each a glass of sparkling champagne. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Madelyn sensed the spark of normalcy returning. Just a glimmer beyond the lingering sorrow, but it was there, a warm little spot of hope.
“You gonna keep me hidden up here all-night Nicky boy?” Jenny suddenly teased, stepping back to gesture over her outfit. “I didn’t get all dressed up for nothin’”
He chuckled, taking both of their glasses and depositing them on the balcony. “If I’m not back before midnight, check for my corpse on the dancefloor.”
Piper shouted over the railing as the couple descended, garnering the attention of passersby’s once more. “Yours or McDonough’s?”
“You know, he ain’t that easy to kill,” a sultry drawl called from behind them and simultaneously the women turned to look at the man who was sauntering towards them. Tall and lean, with combed back blonde hair, eyes so dark they almost seemed black. He was wearing a well-tailored suit with a red tie, a golden pin on his lapel with tiny embossed letters—of the people, for the people. He flashed a wide, toothy grin. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”
It was easy for Madelyn to note the shift in Piper’s expression—she recognized this person and the realization excited her head to toe. The reporter practically beamed as she extended her hand, quickly switching to interviewing mode. “Mister McDonough, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Piper Wright with Publick Occurrences—”
“Mister McDonough is that sleazeball over there,” he pointed downstairs to where the mayor was boasting near the stage in front of a large crowd of spectators. He took Piper’s hand, shaking it once before lifting it to his lips in some old-fashioned show of flattery. “I’m just regular ol’ John McDonough. But you can call me Hancock.”
Madelyn chuckled, gaining his attention. She thought back to Piper’s previous remarks about the younger McDonough’s plans to overthrow the mayoral seat. “You can’t win an election under a moniker.”
“Who says I’m going to wait that long?” he asked, avoiding her comment. “I’m inspiring the people, making them realize he’s not the same man they voted for in ’55. Boston is under a chokehold of crime and corruption and they don’t even know it. It should be of the people, for the people, ya dig?”
“I dig,” Madelyn humored him, but as his fevered words settled in her mind, she realized he had a point. She wondered why Nick was nervous about his actions. It was her turn to introduce herself, slipping her hand into Hancock’s momentarily when he offered. He seemed to know that a kiss to the back of her knuckles was not the wisest choice. “Miss Hardy,” she greeted politely. “When did you start your…movement?”
“Fought in the war overseas and came back disillusioned with the government and the establishment,” Hancock interlaced his hands as he spoke. “Guy was already rubbing elbows, buying favors to climb his way up the ivory tower, ensuring his winning ticket to the state house. At first he offered me a seat on his counsel but there was no way he’d ever adopt my progressive views. Feeding the hungry? More money for our schools? No, my own brother kicked me out, so I’ve been fighting the man ever since.”
Piper was nodding—of course she agreed with the plight to help the little people and anyone who worked to accomplish these goals was good in her book. Madelyn, however, was skeptical of anyone who talked too fast with too wide of a smile—she chalked it up to working in a proverbial shark-tank of lawyers.
Hancock noted her uncertainty with a smirk, spreading his hands in a wave. “But enough grandiose monologue, we’re here to have a good time, aren’t we?” He offered a hand to both her and Piper. “Would either of you ladies care for a dance?”
Madelyn silently deferred to Piper but extended the smooth-talking man a small grin. “I’ll have to give you a rain-check.”
“I’ll hold you to it, sister.”
Alone on the balcony, Madelyn overlooked the couples dancing in the hall below, slowing as a female voice crooned out Dream a Little Dream of Me. It was typical in these quiet moments that her mind drifted and that night was no different, her thoughts instantly filled of the last time she had danced with Nate. But she wasn’t melancholy, despite the tightness in her chest as she slowly swayed to the music, content to watch her friends.
“Ma’am.”
Madelyn was about to dismiss the waiter, showing off her half-full glass when she noted he was delivering something else, quickly passing off a folded note before rushing off. She turned on her heel to watch him go but lost him in the crowd, a mix of confusion and panic settling in her gut. What was happening? A phone-call? Telegram? The only people she knew in Boston, let alone cared about were right there in that room. Madelyn’s suspicion only grew when she unfolded the message, looking over the four words typed on the parchment.
You can’t trust everyone.
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theragamuffininitiative · 7 years ago
Text
Winn Schott - He Protects the Stars Masterpost, [P1 S2 E1-11]
Being a ramble of thoughts concerning one Winn Schott Jr., the tech genius and undervalued hero, with much appreciation for his character and reminders of how much they all need him.
Missed Season one? See S1 episodes 1-10 and episodes 11-20.
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Without further ado, episodes are under the cut.
2x01, The Adventures of Supergirl
A decent Winnisode by all accounts
It was pointed out to me that Winn is always the one to pass Kara her drink when they’re out in a group. #idon’trecallmyhashtags. #supportive friend #priorities whatever
Winn chiming in on the “to family” toast, because this is his family. #space fam
Friendly reminder that Winn learned Kryptonian because he “got bored.” and that Alex requested his help at the DEO. #genius
“Find out something that my team of highly trained alien experts can’t.” “Challenge accepted.” AND HE DID. #genius
Aside: he promises to figure this out. To Kara. Because she is important to him.
Fanboying over Superman. I don’t have anything intelligent to add over this. Just watch the smol son freak out, it’s beautiful. #protect him
Winn handy translator helped him read the alien pod’s computer and discover the craft’s trajectory, giving them important info on their guest.
“You look Fantastic.”
Is the one who pays attention enough to find out where the explosion originated, that it was directly under a seat, and to realize that seat had significance: it belonged to Lena. This allows Kara and Clark to rush to Lena’s aid, who they thought was a suspect, not a victim, and they arrive just in time to save her life, and thereby contact the villain and find out his plans and save other lives. #hero
the murdery drone reminding him of his dad’s work. Look at our boy casually tossing around what was held as his deepest, darkest secret; making sure his friends don’t see him any differently now that they know. He’s come a long way.
-and immediate concern for Kara. Always. #supportive friend #priorities “always” should become another hashtag here.
Kara immediately asks specifically for Winn’s aid the minute they’re in trouble. And he delivers. #always
One minute Alex asks J’onn to let Winn help on a tiny bit of decoding, and suddenly Winn is in the thick of things, like he saw stuff going down and just grabbed a computer. #hero
Already making Space Dad smile by his antics. Space Dad needs this tbh.
Welcome to the DEO, Winn. You deserve this.
2x02, The Last Children of Mars
Open with sass: “Grumpy”
Quoting Yoda, the second Star Wars reference in as many episodes. Also, aside, it is obvious that Star Wars is Winn’s favorite fandom, it has the most nods and references from our boy of any he mentions. #nerd
“Hey, new kid, go get the alien tech from storage. Ya know, the stuff that almost made everything really bad for us last time. And see if you can improve upon it.” Winn isn’t there more than a day and J’onn already relies on him an incredible amount. Might be a test, might just be resourceful with his assets.
Entrusted with making Superman (and Kara) a specialized suit.
Our favorite non-super hero is loving this DEO tech, locating the Prometheum in seconds.
Those suits aren’t ready because the former IT guy is obviously preoccupied doing... everything else tech wise at the DEO. #give him a break
Winn and science and his big sis, Alex. #nerds #brotp
“Think with less stabbing.” Good advice.
Here’s a bit of backstory: Winn grew up in foster care after his dad was jailed and his mother took off. And they are not happy memories, probably especially because he’s the child of a crazy murderer. But what he’s taken away from that is beautiful. Family is about showing up. Probably this is why he always shows up for his friends, his family. He understands the importance of that.
CANNOT TELL A LIE TO SAVE HIS LIFE
Does anyone else require much, much more of Winn being a nerd with Clark? Give the boy some quality friendship time please.
Also: the slightly ironic swell of the soundtrack as the camera pans around Winn to reveal his emotional expression. It’s earned though: Winn is a hero.
“Thank you, Winn.” Clark is one of a small handful of people on a small handful of occasions to show appreciation for Winn or his efforts. Even though the quickly assembled armor was not ready to withstand the attack, it was helpful, and Clark appreciates it here. Bless.
He’s happy to see Space Dad and Clark finally getting along, and sad to see Superman leave. Also, that hug. Winn is very much a hugging person, and it’s a great bit.
“Next time.” Let there be a next time, yes? Yes.
2x03, Welcome to Earth
Look at that flame-retardant cape helping Kara save the president's life tracking Mon-el.
Just kind of, left on his own while everyone else squees over the president?? Winn honey, I know that in the past episode and a half you have become the single person who gets asked to do everything at the DEO but take a break for a minute
Finds Mon-el. Bravo.
Look at the other, older, more experienced DEO agents behind him, literally just staring in awe and confusion as he works. #genius
Somehow not only finds the signal Mon-el sends, but also tracks down its origin to a dead planet whose existence and name hardly anyone even knows about.
I feel the need to point out here, with Kara's reference to a Kryptonian slur for the Daxamites and her farewell to Clark in the previous episode, that Winn's ignorance of their meaning does not mean he doesn't actually know Kryptonian. Languages are hard and complex things, and Winn probably learned everything he knows from texts, not from oral teaching. A deeply personal phrase like the one Kara uses for Clark, which they say has no easy English translation, and a random curse, are not likely to have been in his vocabulary - but for what it's worth, they are now.
Pretty low on the Winncontent otherwise.
2x04, Survivors
Disappointed Earth doesn't have dragon soccer. Me too, Winn. Me too.
"awesome" and "amazing" are Winn's favorite terms, in case no one has noticed. #give the guy a thesaurus
Hold the phone. Casual mention of "shall I get a strike team to gear up?" after he identifies and locates an alien assailant??? The man has been at the DEO for what, a few days, maybe a week? And he has the authority to call up a strike team for Alex?? I'm not complaining, but, just how tight a ship is J’onn running here?
Just assumes Mon-el is going to use his newfound power for good, to be a hero, because whether it's with his friends, or even with his dad, or with Siobhan, Winn has a steady history of looking for the best in people.
I've been asked to point out the times Winn gets manipulated into things, and here's a good one: Mon-el promising Winn he can make his supersuit and name him, if he'll just let Mon-el do what he wants. Should Winn have listened? No. But he, too, has been cooped up at the DEO for a fair bit and temptation is too strong here. Thanks, Mon-el, for setting up how this relationship is going to work.
Drunk Winn. Oh dear.
Again, Winn cannot keep secrets or tell lies. He's hopeless.
This whole follow-up scene at the DEO is golden. All of it. I love him.
Winn traced J’onn’s phone. No big deal for him, but he did that.
To be fair, Mon-el at least puts in a good word for Winn, admitting he baited him into the whole thing.
Winn and Alex being concerned for Space Dad is an ongoing trope. I love Space Dad and his kids. #space fam
2x05, Crossfire **Winnisode**
Winnisode is how I’m officially labeling episodes with a fair amount of Winn
"Any of these [guns] look familiar?" is in the weary tones of someone who has asked this question multiple times in the past hour.
Displaying, again, concern over what could have happened to Kara in this most recent fight. #always
"I was into Kara." An important line. I don't think this is completely honest, but he's also not good at lying so who knows. In any case, his friendship with Kara is still important to him, and that's good.
Winn never should have let Mon-el watch television.
Playing with a toy gun, are we? After the incident at the toy convention and everything else?? Hmmm. I choose to read this as our irrepressible hero bouncing back, and maybe intentionally moving past fears, maybe because he thinks being an agent in the field would be cool.
Repeatedly going over the Cadmus broadcast, looking for clues. Detail-oriented.
Another instance of Winn being manipulated? Here we go. James here, showing up to "check in" on his friend, when instead all he wants is to trick Winn into giving him info so he can go be a haphazard vigilante. The second he has what he needs, not two minutes into their conversation, he just leaves. He wasn't there to see Winn at all.
This entire scene where Winn confronts James is golden. James is completely valid wanting to do important and worthy things and feeling out of place, but Winn is making total sense. James will get himself killed on this. He isn't a superpowered human, he isn't bulletproof. Winn obviously already worries about his other best friend getting herself hurt, now he's trying to protect his second friend.
“To fight with knowledge - there is no shame in that.” #hero
"Or you can end up just like him" is harsh. However, coming from the guy who is terrified that his own interests and skills will make him turn out like his father? He's not wrong.
Winn trying to remind James that you don't have to don a suit and punch people to be a hero.
Helping Kara implement her plan. Complete dork bumping into Lena. And still trying to protect James, whose actions in this scene, do not help btw. #supportive friend
Saving the day with his new Science Friend, Lena. #more of this please
"We stopped it!" #hero #sunshine child
1) acknowledging James' side of things, and 2) "I would feel kinda bad if you went and got yourself killed and I could have helped you, blablabla." You watch this scene and tell me which one is the more relevant reason for his decision. “Do not run into the line of fire until [the suit] is ready.” Winn will always want to be there to protect the people he cares about when he knows he can help them.
Also just a little bit excited to be a hero, who can blame him.
2x06, Changing **Winnisode**
(not as much screentime, but some solid moments)
Calling the agents to arms (is that also his job on top of everything else? what exactly is in his job description anyway??)
Distracted by Drunk Kara, a new thing. And you can't convince me of "was" into Kara when here he immediately deflates into saltiness about Mon-el partying with Kara.
Alex and J'onn just... leaving Kara for a bemused Winn to take care of lol.
Winn analyzed the laptops. All of them. Literally what are the other agents doing when they are at work?
Identifies and names the alien parasite. #genius #nerd
Another manipulative scene with James, and I was so angry with James here: He has absolutely zero right to demand things of Winn. They're both upset, worried about Kara, but that doesn't make his angry demands warranted. And he realizes he's gone too far, but it's too late. I think they both very much needed this conversation. But Winn is not yours to use, James, and he's doing this completely for you, so back off sir.
Aside: I will never not have feels over the way Winn immediately checks himself when he gets angry here. He confessed to Kara that whenever he gets angry, he wonders if he'll snap and do something terrible. So he doesn't let himself get angry. #protect him
"I'm better at this kind of stuff than anyone you will ever meet." It's nice to see Winn not selling himself short. Is it a little grandiose of a claim? I dunno, so far, he hasn't been wrong.
"Your IT Prophet has a lead." oh Winn. XD
Left to look after the two people who have come to be his family.
While I wish Winn had found a way to convince James not to do this, I appreciate the solemnity he handles the moment with. Yes, James, you need to be sure.
Friendly reminder Winn makes all of Guardian's arsenal. That bomb that just saved Mon-el? His. That shield? This boy is good.
Excited to see Kara. Sorry James, your Man in the Van will #always have a favorite super.
Designed James’ suit so that Kara specifically couldn't discover that it's James.
Feels wrong keeping the secret from Kara. Yes, good.
He hoped that James would take a shot at the hero thing and realize his mistake and be done. But that's not the case, so he'll continue to support James and enjoy being a hero along the way. #supportive friend
2x07, The Darkest Place **Winnisode**
Honestly, S2 holds a promising amount of content for Agent Schott, or at least it does when you know you might get scraps.
Winn Is Not Subtle.
“Three versus one.” Try three versus two, James. Don’t forget about your partner. Partner, not sidekick.
"in every situation Guardian seems to be one step ahead" that is one hecking good "sidekick" Alex
Nice grappling device, Winn *cough* I mean, Guardian.
#highpitched panic
Terrified of going to jail? Gee, I wonder how much thought he's put into that scenario...
Fantasy football: something James is into and invited Winn to get into as well, but not really Winn's thing - something he would do for an excuse to hang out with his friend? Yes.
Alex. Those eyes. He doesn't stand a chance.
That jump.
Offended by her slap. Such a little brother to Alex's big sister. #brotp
Too worried about the James/Guardian situation to be worried for Kara for once, having no idea she could be in danger. He does know she can take care of himself, honestly he probably shouldn't worry as much as he does, but this time it would still be warranted.
“Genius takes time.”
Winn figuring out things no one stopped to think on: noticing the one guy the vigilante let get away and wondering if there was significance to it, following through, making connections, digging up exactly who they need to look into. Call yourself genius anytime, sir, because at least it's not an empty boast.
James trusting Winn's direction when they're in the field. He needs Winn like the rest of them do. Can you imagine Guardian without his man in the van watching his back? (Spoiler, when Winn gets distracted, James ends up with a bullet graze.)
A little offended on Kara's behalf with the whole "hitched" conversation with Mon-el, but mostly amused
Kid in a candy store when his bff uses her powers.
2x08, Medusa
"Casually drop" the revelation about Guardian. Winn, dear, you can't casually drop anything.
"Eliiiiiiza's glazed carroooooots??!"
Okay, but petition Winn gets like... one, just one happy normal safe Thanksgiving someday?
Shoves James forward to make his confession. Pulls him back down when the timing is obviously not right.
Mon-el gives his speech, very similar to the one Winn tried to give last year, and Winn just...sort of freezes... and then just downs his wine. Poor dude.
"One slightly less intense than last year's Thanksgiving." SEE WHAT I MEAN Warring families are definitely worse than ripping holes in space, I agree.
Listen to Kara or do the smart thing? Or try your best to do both?
-Not Winn related, but I just have to point out in the Monopoly scene you can see one of the crew got careless with those glass doors and you can see their feet as Kara goes in to help Mon-el.
Watch Winn's face when Cadmus declares "every alien will die." You can tell his heart just dropped. His bff? The boss who will also become probably his healthiest relationship? Hundreds of innocents? He can't take it.
Calls the strike team anyway, because he would rather take action (and listen to Kara) than err on inaction.
At the end, he was totally going in for a hug there with Space Dad. Just saying. #space fam
Lastly. We were so close, sooooooo close to a Winn and Cisco meet. *sigh*
2x09, Supergirl Lives
I have a love/hate relationship with this episode, but Winn is amazing.
Quick thinking Winn, clothes-lining the baddie with the van door. Bravo. #hero
I can’t watch this scene. 10/10 cannot handle.
THE NEXT PERSON TO POINT A GUN AT THE PRECIOUS SUNSHINE CHILD-
“Winn, you okay?” No James. He isn’t. But thanks because this may be the last time anyone asks.
James had free time so he went home and wrote a fluff opinion piece on himself?? While his best buddy is in need of medical care and a friend. *sigh*
Can we talk about how Winn, regardless of keeping Guardian a secret, chooses to try and cover up his injury rather than seeking sympathy with his “mugging” story? #too pure #a good #protect him
“The future is very bright.”
.2 seconds of concern for Winn being the victim of an armed mugging is over, now we switch to finding out why Alex looks so dang chipper.
I’m sorry James. Not everyone gets a gun pulled on them. That doesn’t happen to normal people. Give Winn a break.
James may truly want to help, but somebody please give him some pointers: Good things to do for your friend: give them a break to recover from a trauma, go visit them for the express purpose of seeing them and being there for them, listen to what they have to say. Winn is always the #supportive friend, but he could definitely use one of those himself.
“It’s Stargate!” #nerd
WINN DESIGNED KARA’S SUIT WITH POCKETS AT THE SHOULDERS AND CAPE. #HERO #GENIUS
Tracing the portal trip to its base planet. #genius
Tooooootally a Captain America shirt right there. #nerd
I could talk about this scene for days but just kudos to Jeremy for brilliantly portraying a panic attack with all of Winn’s little mannerisms here: flight instinct, pushing his sleeves up, trying to breathe normally, stammering, all of it. Bravo.
“Kara needs you. I need you.” #hero
Alex is just amazing in this scene.
Winn + Space = the only OTP
Please tell me whose bright idea it was to leave an untrained agent by himself on a dangerous alien planet with no means of protection other than a bulletproof vest and what appears to be a completely empty weapon holster. ???? #protect him
You are not the red shirt.
“You brought WINN to space?” I hear you, Kara.
Winn taking on a murderous alien with only his wits and a space rock is amazing. #hero
LOOK AT THIS BRAVE CLEVER HERO. Yeah, you had better be watching Kara, look what your friend can do.
“Start the car!” is like my second favorite Mon-el line of all time, just have to put that out there.
Sometimes, being a genius means aggressively hitting alien technology until it does the thing. #genius #sorta #desperate times
Did anyone else notice that Kara pushed Winn safely through the portal and then suddenly he’s still with them at the end? Terrible continuity, but I’m just going to choose to believe that the little space nerd didn’t want to leave it forever quick so quickly.
#no hugs for Winn. :(
Look at him. He is over the moon. Well. Close. ;)
When did he get the space rocks? Collecting samples while fixing the portal? Or from shaking out his vest and shoes and finding space dust there?
WIINN. SCHOTT. PROTECTS. THE. STARS. #hero
2x10, We Could Be Heroes
Winn. Is. Tired.
It’s a tossup whether the fact that James is injured or the fact that Winn’s suit failed is the reasoning for him wanting to tell Kara immediately.
“This is officially the first time I have ever asked you for anything.” ..... He has a point. And all he wants is to tell the truth.
“Maybe she’ll turn all the girlfriends evil again, I don’t know!” Winn Schott is the saltiest, most extra cinnamon roll in the world.
Cries out in anguish when Kara breaks a computer. XD #nerd
Pretty sure if Kara had maybe had a heart to heart with her best friend, it probably would have kept him from going behind their backs to help Guardian again. He wants to prove a point, and prove his worth.
Jack-of-all-trades #8?: Man in the Van. He has too many trades. I’ve lost count.
“Short answer: science,” is the best techno-babble replacement line.
Stuff goes wrong. Calls Kara. Winn isn’t an idiot.
Space Dad lecturing Winn and Winn thinks he’s this close to being dead. XD Bonus of Space Dad complimenting Winn and James and acknowledging their work. Kara, take notes.
When Kara lectures them, James leaves. But Winn waits. He waits to see if Kara has anything else she wants to say. And he looks so disappointed as he walks away. :( #always?
2x11, The Martian Chronicles **Winnisode**
not the most development, but some thrilling heroics
“Didn’t know I’d be seeing you tonight.” “Why wouldn’t you be?” Kara, some people do actually have work schedules that they try to stick to in order to keep their jobs, and most humans actually benefit from them.
That sad smile of his when she says “you could have been killed” It’s the thing he worries about with her. He knows, Kara.
“Have you ever thought that maybe I have a calling too?” This is one of only a handful of times Winn directly stands up for himself, and I want to stand up and applaud.
Gameplanning with Vasquez. YES. Also, good to see at least one of the other DEO agents actually being allowed to do noticeable work.
Confusion and horror in reaction to seeing the White Martian double. #protect him
They just.....wreck all the computers. Winn is really going to have a lot of work.
Spoilers: Everything from this point is not Winn, but the Martian. But that Martian has access to Winn’s memories, including learned abilities and general knowledge, and uses that to his advantage. Also, little note: Winn was probably physically the easiest target in the room. He’s not tactically trained. Maybe that’s why the White Martian took him out, because it needed a hiding place and Winn was a safe bet. On the other hand, the other one also took Alex, so. It may have been more than luck that led the Martians to selecting Winn, the genius whose mind and access they could use to implement their plan.
“Teakwood and tobacco.” I need the story behind this. Current headcanon is that this smell is associate with a foster home.
Martian!Winn noticeably nervous about J’onn’s mind scan.
Covering his initial offense at M’gann’s insult by turning it into a very Winn-like quip.
There is thinly veiled contempt in Martian!Winn’s glance at J’onn. Nice acting, nice directing there.
#whatEvenIsThatHandThingy ???
#ScaryWinn
I...I really hope Jeremy enjoyed this as much as it looks like he did.
Winn has access to the whole system. That’s great. Uuuuuntil an evil alien gets to the reactor.
“We need the real Winn to unlock it.” I love that Alex doesn’t even question if anyone else can beat Martian!Winn’s encryption. However, I’m not sure if this is the real Alex here or not...
Also, seriously Kara, why has it taken you this long to show concern for your friend?
non-Winn-related commentary: #this is not the time for a meaningful chat. #you are going to get blown up.
WINN. UNCONSCIOUS. TIED UP ON THE CEILING. how dare. #protect him
“Whhyyyyy??!” is me when my alarm clock goes off. Probably Winn too.
“OOooHhHh wegottagetouttahere” XD XD
....Recovers faster than Alex. Maybe because he’s already ‘been there done that’ with someone being in his brain?
“About four minutes?” Love him.
Psyching himself up, assuring he can do it, right before seeing the battle going on around the reactor.
Warns J’onn about Armek. #hero #space fam
Space Dad’s priorities: protect the children, stop the bomb. #space fam
Has the courage to move through the fight to the core. He has his fear well in control here, just getting to work. #hero
“Whoever encoded this was a genius.” You. You sir. You are the #genius.
“This did not used to happen at CatCo.” Sweetheart. It wasn’t a lot better.
“Close? We had like twelve seconds to spare!”
“Can’t believe it’s still nighttime.” It’s ok, no one knows how time passes in this town buddy.
Put it on record: Kara just showed appreciation for Winn doing his job and saving the day. He couldn’t have done it alone, but no one else could have done it without him. #always #hero
“Unless you object.” He’s giving her a chance to make amends and she takes it, not giving him any reason not to go with Guardian. #supportive friend. “Be Safe.” She also shows care for him, which has become rare.
#Always.
Alrighty, that’s it for this post! I’ll add the rest of the episodes to a second part, which I shall link from here as soon as it’s posted. :D Hope you enjoyed. Winn Schott deserves the world.
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