#the winnix was the first thing i started writing ever for bob

[churchkey]

2020 Writing Wrapped

I was tagged by the lovely and talented @anthrobrat and one of my resolutions is to do the stuff people tag me for (and also, Laura is just wonderful and I’m lucky that she’s my friend) so I’ll give this a twirl. 

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8(ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work.

I don’t know if I can make it to eight but we’ll see. Here’s a fun story - I used to be in this fandom back when we just shared stuff in a super-secret private community on LJ because many of the IRL guys were still alive and we were horrified of people finding out about us. But that was like 15 years ago and a lot has changed so here I am back on my bullshit and really so grateful that this fandom is still around because my love for this series and the very beautiful actors responsible for the fictionalized versions of the IRL guys and their crazy passionate ships who live rent-free in my soul has not dimmed a bit. So THANK YOU for being here and reading my stories inspiring me with YOUR stories and headcannons and being my friends. 

So here we go. All of these are Winnix, btw. Someday I’ll learn to write for another ship. 

Total (posted) Word Count: 119,294

1. A Spell of Riot (E) This is hands-down, no question, the fic I am most proud of having finished, not just this year but in all of my fandom career. I got the idea to write it from a kiss prompt last summer, just a light little thing about Dick saying goodbye to Lew as he drops him off for alcohol treatment. I never dreamed it would turn into 62k of something into which I ended up pouring three months of love and stress and tears and fairly painstaking research. The feedback I’ve gotten from you about this has been so incredibly humbling and I truly believe I’ve become a more compassionate person from this experience. You just never know what invisible battles people are fighting. I feel lucky to have had this opportunity to tell this part of their story.

2. It Is My Heart That’s Late (E) This was the first thing I ever wrote for the LLSS prompt meme, so it was kind of the first step I took toward actually being a part of the community rather than just going about my work in silence and isolation (which, tbh, I still do... I’m just that kind of writer, but I’m trying to get better about connecting with other creators). For this one I got to flex my description muscles, which was probably the biggest challenge of this story. I wanted to make readers feel immersed in the whole sensual world of Iowa in the summertime, as well as the inner nostalgic world of lovers coming back together after five years. It was also the first time I wrote an OC and had a lot of fun channeling what I think my mom/aunts would have been like at that age (as the whole thing was based on what she’s told me about growing up in that place at that time... Dick as the hired man is based on her family’s hired man, Tommy, who lived in a little cottage on their back 40. Sorry that’s probably more than you want to know.) ANYWAY. I was really happy with the subtlety (I think) I was able to bring out in the way their love has changed over the time they’ve been apart. And I got Dick’s ass to Chicago, finally!

3. Roger Wilco (E) I like this one because I think it’s the ultimate Porn with Feelings, even though when I started I tried to just make it straight-up porn. But I’m a sucker for them being completely smitten with each other, and those feelings sort of bleeding into everything they do/say/think/feel. I also think it’s pretty hot, if I do say so myself. Describing Dick pleasuring himself is like... maybe my favorite thing to write about with him, sex-wise. 

4. Things He Cannot Lose (T) The very first story I posted when I came back to the BoB fandom was Long Ago and Far Away, but that was a collection of ficlets I’d written many years ago. This one was the first new thing I’d written in many many years and it felt so freaking good to be writing again, and being in these guys’ heads again, and trying to do justice to the pining and brooding and angsting and loving. It was also the first peek of erection-probs Lew, which you all know by now is a thing I love to work in whenever I can. Sweet, drunk, lovelorn mess that he is, bless his soul. 

5. Free Kittens (T) It’s so silly but I’m proud of this one because I feel like I can’t write fluff and, aside from some of Dick’s decidedly non-fluffy attitudes toward the barn kittens, I think I managed to make it pure, uncomplicated domestic fluff. I hope so, anyway. I also freed myself of my narrative structure of staying in one character’s POV for an entire scene, trying instead to do a little more free indirect discourse and float back and forth between them. So even though it’s silly AF, this one has poked its sharp little claws into my heart. 

And I’m awful at the tagging thing and feel like I'm just annoying people by tagging them and also that they’ve already been tagged a million times but here we go @speirtongirl and @rillalala

[anthrobrat]

2020 Writing Wrapped

Thank you so much @onelungmcclung @julianneday1701 @papersergeant-pencilsoldier @a-beautiful-struggle-of-life

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8(ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work

First off, I would like to genuinely thank anyone and everyone who was part of my strange 2020 journey. It is amazing to me that a year ago I did not consider myself a writer, nor did I consider writing a fun activity. Quite the opposite, I found writing isolating and painful. 

To be sitting here, at the end of 2020, talking about MULTIPLE stories that I put together, and the friends I made along the way, and how suddenly writing is one of my passions and something that brings me great joy, is astounding. So, for better or worse, here is my writing, wrapped. 

Words written: 106,550 (51K of which was NaNoWriMo)

Okay, here are the fics I’m most proud of, in no particular order (it’s half of them, leave me alone <3 ):

1- Only the Essentials (G) This is the first fictional story I have ever written in my life. It is a BabeRoe pre-slash, because I wasn’t sure how to write anything besides banter, but it’s still one of my favorite stories of two boys sitting on the couch being best friends. 

2- A New Christmas Tradition (M) Yes, this is anxious Christmas fluff WinNix style, and yes I love it. There are passages in here that are some of my best work, and I got to write it for one of my best friends

3- After All This Time, We’re Still Full of Surprises (E) This was my first real foray into the kinky side of WinNix and BoB fandom, and I think it turned out well. It was awkward and not always comfortable to get it down on paper, but I grew a lot from it and I think the banter in here (and my very random OC Nathaniel) are top notch.

4- Our Hearts Were Lonely Hunters (T) This incredibly angsty BabeRoe postwar thing I did. It ripped my heart out, but it also wouldn’t leave me alone. I had never experienced that before, so I cried and I put it on paper. It follows the seasons, and some quotes from one of my favorite movies, “A Love Song for Bobby Long.” I played around with dueling points of view and describing relationships from others’ eyes. 

5- Monday Morning Song (E) This started as a quick WinNix tumblr kiss prompt that got away from me in terms of word count and actually became one of my favorite things I’ve written. I think it captures the post-war anxiety of Dick and Lew trying to fit back into civilian life really well, and also has just a hint of steamyness. 

6- Whatever This Is (T) McShifty has my heart. They didn’t have a tag, so I had to make my own and I wrote a lot about respect and admiration under fire, among these two men who were utterly indispensable to the company.

7- I Wear My Heart on My T-Shirts (T) This story still makes me so happy, because it was the spark that ignited the fire. Only the Essentials was my first story, but this was the idea that some random girl on AO3 (@mariamegale I love you so much) told me to write when I said it would make a good story. She changed my life.

8- The innumerable headcanons that I have taken part in via discord, AO3, tumblr, anywhere I can. They have been cute, and hot, and heartwarming, both those that have made it to publication and those that live on in my brain (rent free). These stories breathed life into an otherwise horrifying year, and I appreciate all who took part. 

Okay, I am pretty sure I’m close to the last person who is putting this out (you know, because it’s already 2021, so I apologize if you’ve already done yours or if I’m the 5th person to send this. But I’m going to tag @mariamegale @churchkey @easy-company-tradition@thrillingdetectivetales @howling-harpy

Wishing everyone a safe, happy, and healthy 2021 <3 

[spoondragon]

Sleeping with the Band of Brothers Boys

I couldn’t sleep last night so this happened instead. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ If I missed any of your faves or you just want to add some of your own sleepy Bob headcanons, please feel free to add onto this!

Webgott

Web tosses and turns, changing his position roughly a dozen times before he falls asleep and then a dozen more after he does. (This is the origin of his legendary bedhead.) The only time that he's truly still - beautiful face slack, mouth predictably agape, drooling on the pillow - is after a good, hard, thorough fucking. Joe woks hard to regularly achieve this result. How else is he gonna get any sleep? A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

Lieb secretly loves being the little spoon but he will punch you right in the dick if you ever breathe a word about it to anyone. He tells himself it's because he likes the body heat, which is part of it. He's a skinny fucker and he feels the cold worse than anybody else. But more than that, he likes feeling safe and protected, wrapped in Web's buff arms, his soft body fur warm against his back. But again, fist meets dick if you say a fucking word.

Speirton

Speirs steals the covers. All the covers. The sheet, the comforter, the bedspread, the throw blanket that was on the chair in the other room. He flatly denies it of course, even as he peers sleepily out of his blanket burrito. Tired of waking up shivering, Lip starts bringing his own covers, but of course in the morning those have been absorbed into the blanket burrito too. With a long-suffering sigh, he tells Ron that he might have to start sleeping on the couch or just not sleeping over at all. The next morning Lip wakes up covered in sweat, wrapped up in Ron and every blanket on the bed. He has been absorbed into the blanket burrito too.

Lip is a deep sleeper. Once he's out, he is OUT. He can sleep through anything. A train. An earthquake. A chainsaw. Ron knows. He's done experiments. The only things that seem to wake Lip are his alarm clock, the sun and Robbie. Somehow his tiny cries have Lip up and moving in an instant. Whether he's truly awake at these times, is debatable however. As the bottle of baby formula in the toaster will attest.

Baberoe

Gene is a light sleeper. His time as a combat medic has conditioned him to wake at the slightest disturbance and he does, often. He will jerk awake at Babe's sudden snore or the radiator clicking on and then that’s it. He's awake. Sometimes Babe is startled to see Gene already sitting up in bed, pale and wide eyed, still but vigilant, a thrum of taught energy coiled inside him like a compressed spring. "You're like a damn owl. Jesus!" Babe will mutter, hand on his heart. Gene just smiles sheepishly at him. Babe will then pull Gene down beside him, until his head is on his chest and he’ll tell him all about the crazy dream he just had while stroking Gene's dark, silky hair.

Babe has vivid, bizarre dreams. Sometimes they're bad dreams (Julian reaching for him in the snow as a pack of mutant zombie wolves devour him alive). Sometimes they're good dreams (walking down an aisle made of springy pink Jell-O to a smiling, glowing? Cajun doctor as his family and friends smile and cheer around them). Sometimes they're just... weird (having a heated discussion with Abe Lincoln about snickerdoodles vs gingersnaps while dressed in lady's lingerie). He really never knows what it's going to be. Gene keeps telling him that he should keep a dream journal but Babe doesn't really see the point. He doesn't have any trouble remembering them and Gene’s the only person he wants to tell about them anyway.

Winnix

Dick sleeps in full-on grandpa pajamas, complete with socks in the winter, which Nix finds abhorrent. He doesn't understand how that much fabric can possibly be comfortable to sleep in. He'd rather add three more blankets to the bed than put on one stitch of clothing. Plus, the fact that Dick is denying him access to his glorious naked body is just rude. ("Nix we're just going to be sleeping, what does it matter?" he argues. "Well if you're wearing 12 layers of clothes that's certainly all we're gonna be doing!") However, Nix soon discovers that if he wears Dick out completely with athletic sex, Dick is too exhausted to get dressed for bed, just collapsing in a naked, sweaty heap like God intended. Eventually, Dick is broken of his pajama habit. The socks, unfortunately, are still a thing.

Nix is a night owl and doesn't so much fall asleep as pass out, usually not before 2 am. It's not that he doesn't get sleepy. Dick will see his eyes getting heavy and suggest maybe he come to bed, only for Nix to argue that he's not tired like a petulant child avoiding nap time. Dick goes to bed early but finds it difficult to fall asleep alone in the big, cold bed. Eventually, he tells Nix that he doesn't care how late he stays up so long as he does it in bed next to him. Nix agrees, as he usually does to suggestions involving Dick and a bed. And sometimes, the sound of Dick's steady breathing lulls Nix to sleep as early as midnight.

Luztoye

Luz talks and even laughs in his sleep. The first time it happened, Joe thought he was fucking with him, making some kind of joke about purple detergent that he wouldn't explain. It irritated Joe to no end and he had trouble falling asleep. He was moody and gruff the next morning (even more so than normal for a Tuesday) to Luz's utter mystification. The next time it happened, Joe got so irritated that he turned on the light to confront Luz, only to find him obviously deeply asleep. Joe then starts writing down all the absurd shit that Luz says in his sleep ("Colonel Sink doesn't even LIKE petunias... Only if you pleeeease Mr. Beauregard... Fourteen yellow spinks.") and starts telling Luz about it in the morning. It becomes kind of fun after that, even though Joe still pretends he thinks it's weird and annoying. However, that attitude changes the night he overhears Luz telling Rita Hayworth about all the different ways Joe is amazing.

Joe likes to cuddle. He fucking hates that word but he guesses it's true. Touching is definitely better than talking. It's a lot less complicated. So, when no one else is around, like in bed, he likes to touch. It helps him express things he has trouble saying otherwise. Luz has never fallen asleep without Joe touching him somewhere – a hand resting on his bicep, a leg tangled with his, an arm slung around his waist. Sometimes Luz will fall asleep as Joe traces idle patterns on the skin of his back. That might be the best. Or maybe it's when he plays with his hair...

Bull/Martin (Bulltin?)

Bull snores – loudly. Like, really loud. Buzz saw loud. Jet engine loud. Can-still-be-heard-under-three-pillows loud. At first Johnny hates it and shakes Bull awake the moment it starts, giving him the patented Johnny Martin Don't Make Me Kill You with My Bare Hands look. But after a while the sound becomes an insanely loud kind of white noise that Johnny finds he can't sleep without.

Johnny has been dubbed Sargeant Starfish by the only person on Earth brave enough to do so. Bull is constantly amazed that such a small person can take up such an insane amount of space in a bed. He's not even surprised when he wakes up curled into a (not so) tiny ball at the foot of the bed like a dog. Johnny's been taking up all the space in his world for a while now. Why should it be any different in his bed?

Bonus

Buck sleeps with a teddy bear inexplicably named Mr. Jingles. He doesn't even think it's weird. Which is the weirdest part.

Malarkey sleep walks. And sometimes sleep bakes. He scared the crap out of Muck and Penkala the first time that happened. He wandered into the kitchen and started trying to bake a fully frozen ham still wrapped in plastic. The smoke alarm woke them up thank God, but they put a special lock on his door after that.

Skinny can and will sleep anywhere. In class. On public transportation. In waiting rooms. During car rides longer than 10 minutes (even if he's driving). He doesn't know why. He gets plenty of sleep at night. His brain just seems to see any idle moment as an opportunity to catch more z's.

Perconte wears a mouth guard to sleep because he grinds his teeth at night. His diligent oral hygiene is a result of all the time he spent at the orthodontist as a kid.

Shifty can lucid dream. He didn’t even know that’s what you called it, but there you go. When he was a boy he kept having the same nightmare over and over about a huge black panther chasing him. He came to be real sick of it. So he decided to shoot the thing. Every night before he fall asleep he’d concentrate real hard on what he wanted to happen. At first he’d have his rifle in the dream but it wouldn’t fire. Then after a while it would fire but he’d miss. Finally, after several weeks, he shot the panther right between the eyes. Only, as it fell to the ground it turned into a black sock. After that, he could pretty much decide what he wanted to dream about.

[gingerwerk]

WIP Meme

Rules: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on.

This can be writing, art, vids, gifsets - anything at all!

I was tagged by the lovely @ackackh :) thanks my dude

(so like, i am actually not on my bullshit for once and i haven’t actually started cooking up some new au in like, a year or two at this point. im actually just going through my idea folder and finally flushing out ideas from years ago now so like. ive probably mentioned all of these aus at some point recently but i still love them all so whatever)

1. ‘lest we fall into the dark’ aka my flowers and tattoos au

my current wip (you can read the first 8 chapters rn on ao3)

a pacific sledgefu fic. I’ve talked about it plenty on here but basically tattoo parlor/flower shop au where bill and eugene run a quiet little flowershop and one day that quiet is shattered when a bunch of loud, crazy people (snafu, burgie, jay, and flo) move into the vacant shop next door and start up a tattoo parlor. the story also focuses heavily on mental illness and military themes and personal growth and found families. also there’s a bunch of cute burgie and flo being the perfect couple so check it out

you can follow my weird vague posts about it here

2. DILF au

modern au winnix fic

ive been trying to get this fic up and running for real for lit years now but the timings never been quite right, but hopefully one day soon it’ll happen (almost did this one for the bob big bang last year...)

so the story follows the courtship of dick, your regular guy in his midtwenties just trying to figure out life, and nix, a single dad disaster whose honestly trying his best to take care of his son after years of hardcore fucking up. also key players in this story are harry, dick’s best friend whose constantly pestering him about his love life in between panicking about his soon to be born child, kitty, harry’s wife and calm presence dick desperately needs in his life, nix’s ex kathy, who after years of dealing with nix’s fuck ups (understandably) isn’t too fond of the idea of nix spending tons of time with their son, and james, nix’s little boy :) 

just some classic mid-twenties life stuggles and family drama with tons of dick bonding with a six year old

3. pre-series Tim solo fic

canon verse tim gutterson standalone fic

yet another fic ive been working on for lit years at this point.... 

a story about tim after the rangers but before the marshals and how he found his way to the marshals

literally this fic has become bigger than anything i ever expected to and now its this massive oneshot thats slowly but surely coming to an end (lmao maybe ill actually get it up sometime this year....)

4. my shitty high school au

justified modern hs au

literally the title sums it up. i started it as a joke idea and now im actually fully for it and i love it so much

focuses mostly on tim and rachel, who are best friends trying their best to get through all the insane bullshit everetts hs and harlan has to throw at them. they gotta deal their insane families, their relationships (or lack there of in tims case...) and the fact that they somehow got sucked into the epitome of harlan bullshit aka the givens-crowder-randolph love triangle and now have to wade their way through that swamp on top of everything else they were already dealing with.

focuses a lot on friendship and family issues 

sometimes i post exerts and weird bits in my tag here

tagging @cajunroe, @ingoldenlight, and @antiquecompass :)

also if anyone wants me to post more exerts or give more info on any of these fics feel free to hmu id be happy to share

[himbowelsh]

Winnix name of soulmate AU: Nix is like magnet for dog love so it's not at all surprising that dogs that get lost always find themselves glued to his side when he tries to eat lunch in the park and not fall asleep (imagine very hangover Lewis with his aviators on, chugging coffee like water). One day he finds very cute and friendly golden retriever late at night on his way back from work. He takes the dig home. Dog obviously belongs to someone. Has a collar with a name, address and +

his owner’s full name. That gives Lew a pause. No. That gives Lew a heart palpitations. 

He calls very sleepy Ron all panicked and “hold on, you’ve met your soulmate at the park at 1AM?” “Worse Ron, I’ve met his dog!”. 

Then he goes kinda in crazy mode because Lew is kinda like crazy. First checks phone book to check how many people in Boston are called Richard Winters. Ron rolls his eyes and tells him to give the dog back. Lew is both freaked out about possibility of this guy being his soulmate and he also is absolutely in love with the dog and that 5 year old inside him really doesn’t want to give him back. Because what if this guy is not his soulmate and he will never see that cute face again!? 

Then Nix gets even more crazy and does that overnight/day cop thing (with the dog of course). He parks near Dick’s house and watches. Imagine Lewis with bags full of human food and dog food sitting in Ron’s car, sunglasses on, his dog buddy next to him with binoculars in hand listening to Lewis’s favourite songs because Lew is the kind of ridiculous dog person who talks to the dog for hours why Bob Dylan is fucking fantastic and “you will like this one”. 

Ron threatens to call shrink or worse, Lip aka voice of reason. He does eventually and Lip unashamedly guilt trips Lew into giving the dog back (how would you feel if your dog went missing) and meeting that man. Nix pouts but agrees. Dick Winters comes back home that day to find stranger sitting on the steps to his building, hugging and kissing his dog and looking very very sad and his own dog licking man’s face to cheer him up. And that’s all I got.

Also bonus (no control here), when Ron tries to get back his car and make Nix stop being an idiot, Nix for sure fires back with “You were pretending to be me for weeks when you met your soulmate. No higher ground here, buddy.” Lip just snorts in his coffee.

look like AARGH this idea is so freaking cute and fits into the soulmate universe so WELL! I don’t know how much I can write (you basically laid the whole story out right here) but I want to bring a couple of snapshots to life because this is brILLIANT

Nix is so focused on holding himself upright that he doesn’t notice he isn’t alone until someone snatches his donut right out of his hand.

“Hey!” he hollers, and springs to his feet – or tries to. Doing much of anything is hard when you’ve got an entire bottle of Vat 69 and then some inside of you. He’s not really surprised – disappointed, but not surprised – when instead of staying on his feet, he finds himself ass-down on the sidewalk.

At least he’s next to a bench. It’s a nice bench. He was sitting on that bench until a few seconds ago, when someone took his donut – his donut. The one he bought with his own money. Now, Nix is a generous guy. If he sees a homeless person he’ll always give them a few dollars; once he gave his friend Harry a fifty dollar bill and told him to please get some braces; and when he eats his lunch at the park in the morning, he’ll throw the pigeons the crust of his sandwich.

Someone taking his entire donut, however – that’s going too far.

“God dammit! Bring that back!”

And though he’s not really sure why he’s screaming at a dog… it seems like a sensible idea at the time.

Sensible or not, it works. The dog, who is either too obedient or too kindhearted for its own good, pauses. Nix’s donut is still hanging out of his mouth, but at least he looks attentive. A click of his tongue is all it takes for Nix to coax the animal back over.

It’s too late for his donut, but he manages to a kiss for his trouble. “Good dog,” he encourages the golden retriever, stretching behind it’s ears. He thinks he’s a little in love already. “What a good dog…”

He trails off as he catches a glimpse of the dog’s collar. There, in large brassy lettering, is a name that is only too familiar to him.

Oh, he thinks, and is hit with a sudden wave of queasiness. It has nothing to do with the alcohol. Oh man.

“Good dog,” he says again, because the pup is. He’s the best boy Nix has met in a very long time, and in his opinion all dogs are great dogs. This is a fantastic dog.

It’s not his fault that his owner just happens to be Nix’s soulmate.

He doesn’t care what anyone (Ron, the police, common sense) says. He is not stalking Richard Winters.

Finding out where a man lives isn’t stalking. In the age of the internet, anyone can do that – it doesn’t make Nix shifty, even if he spends a few minutes sitting outside of Richard Winters’s house before he dares do anything.

A few minutes is actually several hours, and what he does – as soon as another car pulls into the driveway and a tall redheaded man steps out – is speed away like his engine is on fire. The dog, who Lewis has taken to calling Bacon due to his remarkable affinity for the snack, wags his tail in the backseat. One glance, and Lewis is reminded of how he’s failed him.

He didn’t seek out Richard Winters so he could stalk his soulmate. He just wants to give him his dumb dog back.

(His great dog. His amazing dog. His great, amazing, dumb dog. His soulmate has incredible taste in dogs.)

He let Bacon down. He can’t let this happen again. He can’t let Richard Winters get the better of him.

He’ll try again tomorrow, Nix decides, and lets his mind rest easy for the night.

After about a week of this, his friends start to get concerned. Nix is more than willing to point out the irony of this situation, considering he’s got three best friends, and two of them are Harry “I proposed to my girlfriend while ice skating on a frozen lake, fell through, and had to be rescued by firefighters” Welsh, and Ron “I stole a police car” Speirs. To pretend that he’s suddenly the most misguided of them all isn’t just a stretch, it’s a pole vault.

Unfortunately, however, Lewis’s final best friend is Carwood Lipton, who takes to being the only responsible one in their friend group like a duck to water. He was born to be the mature friend. He was also born to give those disappointed stares that make Lewis feel like he’s just kicked a puppy, or let down everyone he’s ever loved.

Lip has actual grounds to criticize him, and when he finds out what Nix has been up to, he’s as happy as could be predicted.

“You’re going to get arrested. Someone is going to notice your car out there every day, call the police, and you will be arrested. Not just for stalking, but dog theft. All because you couldn’t work up the nerve to approach your soulmate.”

Behind Lip’s shoulder, Harry is giving an enthusiastic nod. Ron, who’s just bored with Nix’s entire crisis, flashes a thumbs up. Nix scowls and scuffs his feet against the floor.

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” he insists. “I’m going to give the dog back soon.”

Lipton frowns, mouth pursing. “Soon had better be tomorrow, otherwise you’re going to get in actual trouble. Give yourself a break, Lewis. Talk to the man.”

The worst part is, Lip has a point. Lip always has a point, and Nix knows this.

So, he steals Ron’s car instead.

He’s going to get retribution eventually, but he’ll dodge karma for as long as he can. If Ron can’t catch him, he can’t kill him. By the time Ron finally does catch up to him, he’ll have given the dumb dog back to his dumb soulmate, and this will all be over.

In the meantime, hopefully no one calls the cops on him.

He finds Richard Winters putting up lost dog posters around the neighborhood Nix likes to walk Bacon.

He happens to be walking Bacon at that time, in fact, so his reaction is nothing short of blind panic. He does an about-face, ducks into someone’s backyard, and ties Bacon to a swingset.

“Stay,” he hisses. “I’ll be right back, just -- stay!”

He can’t be positive that Winters hasn’t seen him until he approaches the man and sees no flash of recognition in his eyes. Winters doesn’t accuse him of stealing his dog on sight; he also doesn’t collapse at his feet and start calling him his soulmate. As far as Nix is concerned, these are good things.

“Lost something?” he asks, tilting his head. Dick offers a close-lipped smile.

“My dog. I lost him a few weeks ago. His name’s Buddy. He’s a Bernese Mountain Dog, about five years old. He really likes bacon.”

Well, I’ll be damned, Nix thinks. He forces a smile. “Sorry to hear that. I’ve got a dog myself --” (or he had a dog, until his ex-wife took him, along with half his money and most of his pride) “-- I know how rough it can be. They try to eat all your food and always smell weird, but you can’t help loving them.”

Something about Nix’s words -- or maybe the dry humor -- coaxes a real smile out of the other man. Nix feels like he’s been punched in the chest. that smile... god, they could write symphonies about that smile. “My name’s Dick. You live around here, right?”

“Yeah,” Nix says, and swallows hard. “About a street away, but in the area.”

“Keep an eye out, please? If you see anything... well, I’d really like him back. Or at least to know he’s okay.”

“Sure,” says Nix, feeling dumb as a post, and a little like a horrible person. “I’ll be sure to give you a call -- uhh, what’s your number?”

Okay, it was on the poster -- but Lewis gets Dick Winters to enter it in his phone personally, and in his opinion, that’s the most progress he’s made so far. Who’s Lipton calling a coward? Nix is on top of things.

Then the top of Dick’s shirt inches down, and Nix catches sight of black script printed across his collarbone. He’d swear it says ‘Nixon’, though he can’t really be sure.

After that, he can’t get away fast enough.

“I want my car back,” Ron declares, popping up in the backseat. Nix lets out a yell, and nearly crashes the car. His overreaction is justified, considering he’s been driving for ten minutes now, and he had no idea Ron was even here.

“Oh, did I mention Ron came with me?” Lip remarks mildly, taking a sip of his coffee. Lewis gapes at him.

“Betrayed. By my only ally. By my best friend.” He steers the car back onto the road, glaring out the dashboard. He can still see Ron reach up, pluck Lip’s coffee from his hands, and take a sip before handing it back to him. Lip smiles indulgently and gives Ron’s hand a squeeze before bringing it up to his mouth. They’re so disgustingly romantic that 

“As if you didn’t pretend to be me when you met your soulmate. For a month. No higher ground here, buddy.”

“Oh, that’s low,” Ron says, voice flat. He won’t meet Nix’s eyes, or Lip’s. It’s been half a year, but the shame is still palpable. (And it still makes Lip laugh his ass off.) “That’s very low.”

Ron shoots him the betrayed look of a kicked puppy. In spite of himself, Nix feels a grin spread across his face. Nothing makes him feel better about his own failures than picking on his friends for the even worse things that they’ve done. Thankfully, he’s friends with people like Harry and Ron – terrible ideas are in abundance, and Nix has photographic evidence of all of them.

“You did make a very poor Lewis Nixon,” Lip admits. “I figured out you were lying about something the fourth time I said your name and you stared at me blankly for half a minute before replying. You’re a lot of wonderful things, but you’re not subtle.”

Ron’s annoyance melts away. He’s smirking as he leans up to plant a kiss on Lip’s cheek. In reply, Lip gently cups the side of his face. Nix debates the merits of slamming on the brakes and sending them both through the windshield.

Instead he just accelerates, knocking Ron back into his seat. “Will you put on your seatbelt?”

He doesn’t even feel bad when Ron salutes him with his middle finger.

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” says Lip, picking up their topic from before Ron’s sudden emergence as if they’ve never been interrupted. “And don’t tell me you won’t, because you have no choice at this point. You’re not a monster, Nix. You’re not even an asshole, though you have your moments. This is one of those moments.”

“Thanks,” Nix comments dryly. His hands tighten on the steering wheel. “What am I going to do?”

“You,” says Lip, “are going to give that poor man his dog back. And you’re going to introduce yourself to your soulmate.”

Dick Winters returns home that afternoon to find Nix’s car -- his real car -- parked in front of his house. Sitting on his front step are his missing dog and a very forlorn-looking Lewis Nixon.

“So,” Nix says, rising to his feet as Dick approaches. “I guess I found your dog.”

As Bacon/Buddy rushes to greet his owner, Dick embraces him. It’s a few minutes before he gets over his happiness enough to speak. (Lewis is proud of himself for not taking advantage of the distraction to make a quick escape.)

“He looks well taken care of,” Dick observes. “Someone’s been feeding him, grooming him, playing with him. He seems happy.”

Nix swallows hard. “About that. I may have gotten... attached.”

“You don’t say,” Dick replies, looking torn between amusement and mild interest. Nix is sure he’s sweating more than a sinner in church, especially when Dick holds out a hand to him.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced -- and, seeing as you saved my dog, it only seems polite. I’m Richard Winters.”

“Lewis,” he stammers, the words heavy as clay on his tongue. “Lewis Nixon.”

Dick shakes his head, smile growing wider, and Nix has the inexplicable feeling that he knew all along.