unhinged character bingo you say?? Beatrix Nixon I summon thee!!
this was kinda hard bc she's only an OC in two AUs thus far and she has a totally different characterization in each one... but I tried:
the pink marks are mostly informed by the political landscape surrounding trans youth today, especially since Bea and Lewis' story is set to the backdrop of constant paranoia on Lew's part, since it's possible to argue child abuse or neglect (in order to gain child custody) if you just let your trans child... be trans. the amount of angst I have for this character isn't even fun angst it hits too close to home.
the violet ones are informed by the absolutely batshit mafia au nathan and I have been kicking around where Bea takes up a bigger role outside of just winnix's daughter like it's a slow corruption of all her morals but when Dick goes ahead and kills her brother it's downhill from there it escalated way too quickly I don't know how to stop it lmao.
Hi ♥️ could you please make a headcanon about how Lewis and Dick meet and fall in love with each other in modern times? Thank you!
I'm sorry this might end up sounding like such a lazy answer but I kinda... already did make one? My Beatrix Nixon AU where Lewis is a single dad to a very precocious little girl is my Winnix Modern AU. The link brings you to a post that details it.
And I guess here's something I wrote for that AU (back last Christmas but never really finished (and will never finish) on account of... um. Catching a case of InsecureAboutMyWriting-itis). Mostly an examination of Lew's feelings about Dick (and by extension, his family) coming into the picture and making their little duo into a trio:
When they reach the ground floor, they find that a little dance party is in full swing, with Louis Armstrong crooning away on the Bluetooth speakers as the elder Richard Winters Sr swings Bea around in a simplified version of a lindy hop and Edith Winters tries to keep them on beat from her spot on the couch. Bea’s giggling up a storm, flushed again, but this time from happiness instead of cold, and Lew stops a minute to admire the scene.
Back when it had been just the two of them, Lew hadn’t found much time to swing her around like that, always coming home tired and practically brain dead, barely able to keep his eyes open to thank either Lip or Kitty for taking care of his baby before collapsing on the couch he’d kept in Bea’s bedroom, so that the first thing she’d wake up to was him. There was a time when that had been all the bonding they were allowed. Dozing together all through the night, then a sleepy breakfast that usually ended with them flying out the door so Lew can bring her to daycare then rush to his office to get in before anybody reprimands him for being late. It got better over time, of course, when he found a job that offered actual decent hours and a more reasonable work load, but some days Lew thinks about the hours he’s wasted sitting on a desk and pleasing a boss he didn’t even like instead of making Bea laugh like that.
But then again, maybe that’s what grandparents are for?
Not that Lew would know.
“Here,” Ann says, smiling at Lew as Dick pulls him to sit at the kitchen table, before handing him a mug packed to the brim with little multi-colored marshmallows. If he tilts it just so, he could actually see the hot chocolate it’s supposed to be floating in. But only slightly. “The little lady made it just how you like it.”
“Thanks,” Lew takes a sip and gets a mouthful of marshmallows. “For this and for tumbling around with her out there.”
“Oh, Lewis, no problem! You know I love having her around.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re her new favorite.”
Ann preens a bit. “Well,” she says, pleased. “There’s no beating you, though.”
That isn’t true. There is definitely some beating going on. When she had been little, there was no doubt there; Bea adored him, even when he’d been gone for most of the day, she adored him. Most of the time, he’d get texts from her from the simple Nokia phone he’d given her for emergencies, her little baby thumbs clumsily penning ‘how are you’s and ‘when are you coming home, Daddy’s that made Lewis feel inexplicably loved. He’d lost quite a bit of weight around this time, too, mostly due to the overwhelming stress, but also because he used to spend his lunch breaks talking to her on the phone instead of actually eating lunch. On the weekends, he’d stay in, curled up on the couch with her as he suffered through Saturday morning cartoon after cartoon until she got bored and begged him to take her to the park where they would run around together until the sun went down. Then, they’d end the day sitting on the curb, having hotdogs for dinner.
They’d gone years like that, just the two of them, and for someone like Lew, who never really had anything resembling what he was to Bea, he’d figured that had been enough. When Lew had been little, everything came and went so fast. Even Blanche, who’d been wrested from him as soon as she’d learned how to have opinions that were actually interesting enough to capture flighty Lewis’ attention. Bea had been his first permanent fixture, in a way. The catalyst that made Lew’s foundation-less existence finally take form around him and become something resembling meaningful. To have to suddenly let her go, to share her with new people who aren't just baby sitters but actual, permanent fixtures in their lives, after years of her being his whole world, made him feel a little put out.
But he swallows his pride and his mouthful of marshmallows and leans against the arm Dick has over his shoulders, making sure none of the melancholy shows. Bea’s world isn’t so small anymore and for that, he is glad. This, and all he’s given her, is so much more than he’s ever had and, really, it’s selfish to want her so close all the time. In his head, he hears Blanche admonish him; “She’s a child, Lewis. Not a toy. We were toys, and you know what that was like. Do you want that for her?”
Lew takes another mouthful of marshmallows and finally gets to the hot chocolate underneath. No. No, he does not. Never will.
With a giggle that is more of a shriek, Bea comes bounding in, ever a ball of energy, black curls forming a kind of halo around her head that frames her cherub-like face just so, it makes Lew smile again, veins coursing with the very same warmth he’d felt that morning, when he’d woken up to her leaning over him, grinning like some manic serial killer. He puts down his mug and opens his arms to her in silent invitation.
Bea doesn’t hesitate to climb into his lap. “Uncle Rich and Aunt Eddie went upstairs to go and change,” she tells him, dutifully. “Then we’re gonna go make those sugar cookies.”
Dick reaches over to tuck a few fly-aways behind her ear. The little girl practically purrs, delighted to be receiving so much attention, leaning into Dick’s hand when he flattens it on her cheek to pull her close enough to him to lay a kiss on the tip of her nose. The movement means Dick has to lean forward against Lew to press their own two heads together, prompting Dick to go the extra-mile and kiss Lew, too, but on the shell of his ear. The result, of course, leaves them in a weird, twisted position, where to the outside eye, they must appear to be some odd, inter-connected entity of three heads and twelve limbs, fused together by a few kisses.
Lew wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You have fun at your little Zumba class?” Lew asks her, after she’s pulled away from Dick enough to properly look at Lew again.
“Mhmm,” she hums into his collar. “Can you get me a glass of water, please?”
“Oh, and why can’t you get it yourself?” Lew gasps, moving her so he can assess her from head to toe. “Are you hurt? Do your legs no longer work?” He helps her bend them at the knee. “Hmmm, seems to be just fine.”
“Daddy…”
“Your hands? Let me see your hands, young lady.”
Knowing that she can never win with him like this, Bea shows him her hands, giggling despite her indignance when Lew examines them, wiggling her fingers one by one, then kissing her knuckles when he’s done.
“Just as I suspected,” he proclaims, grandly. “Perfectly working legs and hands. Now tell me, why can’t you get that glass of water yourself?”
Bea pouts. “The water tastes different when you get it.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m the only one who actually walks the extra three steps to get the bottled water from the fridge instead of the one from the tap,” he laughs when she pouts harder, and kisses that away, too. “Go walk your little tushy over there and get it yourself, BumbleBea. Go on. Get.”
She does as told with only just a little whine, and when Lew turns back to the room at large, he sees Dick smiling at him with a look so fond, Lew feels it in his toes
winnix! also i’m so sorry. if you need a meme or someone to talk to, i’m here! :)
I have this modern au where Nix is a single dad of a little girl named Beatrix Nixon. He tries very hard to be a really good dad, and Bea adores him so much. Their relationship is what got Dick's attention, because every time Bea talked about Lew (and she did so many times), it was always about how loved her Daddy made her feel.
Anyway, Lew calls Bea "BumbleBea" because when Bea had been a toddler, she'd been clumsy and "bumbly" on her feet. Before she'd chosen her name, Beatrix (because I seem to be incapable of creating cis ocs-- Bea is trans femme), Lew had just called her "Bumbly." After she chose her name, Lew changed the nickname to "BumbleBea."
Later on, when Dick enters the picture and they become a family of three instead of two, Dick starts calling Bea, "HoneyBea" because she prefers to put honey on her pancakes instead of maple syrup.
So, on Bea's phone, Lew is called "Bumbly Dada" and Dick is called "Honey Pops."
Dick Winters getting addicted to playing AnimalCrossing during lockdown (ft. the Winnix Baby Beatrix Nixon) like:
"Are you winning?"
Bea frowned, first at the screen of her switch, then at Dick, who was standing at the entryway of their living room, the very picture of calm and only slightly curious. His posture gave him away though. With his shoulders thrown back, neck straight, and chin held up high-- a soldier at ease-- Bea knew that meant Dick was starting to feel antsy. Either from being cooped up for too long without his morning run, or from having limited to no human contact. For somebody who likes to keep to himself a lot, quarantine sure was hitting him hard.
So, where she would have usually laughed at Dick and his uncanny ability to act out memes without even knowing it, Bea had indulged. "It's not really a game you're supposed to win, Pop," she'd patiently explained. "You just gotta make everything pretty for your villagers. Landscaping stuff. Gardening. Building, sometimes."
"Building?"
"Yeah. Like Lego. Here," Bea moved over to make space some space on the sofa. "C'mere. Let me show you."
And that, essentially, was the beginning of the end.
"I blame you, you know."
Bea huffs, burying her face in her hand as, just a few feet away, Dick's little villager runs around collecting fruits from the fruit trees he'd painstakingly cultivated the night before. In Bea's opinion, it's downright adorable and actually really good that her father's managed to find something to relieve all of the stress he's been feeling these past few months. Online teaching isn't a fun thing, and god knows Dick needs a break. And at least it hadn't gone down the route of his last few hobbies (i.e. pasta making, embroidery, sour dough bread, and knitting), all of which had ended in some form of disaster. Animal Crossing was a blessing in comparison.
That is... if only he didn't play it on full volume.
"He plays it in bed, Beatrix," Lewis grumbles whilst inhaling his coffee. "Do you know how infuriating I've found that jingle?"
"You think I like it any better? I want my switch back."
"I'd like my sleep back, too."
"Sleep on the couch."
"I'll be sleeping on the floor of your room very soon if he keeps this up."
In the living room, Dick exchanges his harvested fruits for a couple thousand bells. The look on his face when he rushes out to purchase a new table for his house makes Bea melt just a little.
"D'ya think we should stage an intervention?" she asks, though now that Dick has that table he's been working so hard for, her heart's not really in it. "He's so happy."
Lewis sighs, conceding. "Do you think he'll let you have it back if I told him it's your turn with the switch?"
She thinks on it and, ultimately, just shakes her head. "No, don't. He'll get tired of it eventually."
"Fine. I'll get that jingle out of my head some other way," Lew sighs again, turning back to his coffee. He's got dark circles 'round his eyes, purples that look deeper now, more sunken. Bea frowns. He looks miserable. Like, actually miserable, not just that air of melancholy he carries around himself like armour. Usually, Lewis is patient with Dick's attempts at keeping busy during the pandemic. Other times, he's even jumped to join in, anything to make his husband a little happier in these dark times. But maybe this was taking it a little too far. Bea wracks her brain for a solution-- then, like lightning, it comes to her in a flash.
"Daddy," she says, sweetly, calling Lew's attention with a smile. "Have you ever heard of podcasts?"
