#if u disagree that's cool but keep it to urself xoxo

[esmes]

please, give me any/ALL of your nellie lovett (or general sweeney todd) headcanons you have, i saw your comment on @demonbarberofbeepbeep's post and now im intrigued to see what you have (if you dont mind!)

oh, bless. i've had tons of nellie thoughts swirling around in my head since i flew my ass to new york in september to see the show for the first of what would turn out to be five times - it'll be nice to get them down at last. it's going under a cut though because i'm a yapper and it's long. this is all specific mostly to the 2023 revival and annaleigh's lovett (& josh's sweeney by extension.)

i also have a give a shoutout to worstpies for the incredible work they are doing over on ao3. their fics explore nellie and sweeney in a way that takes my breath away every. damn. time. i'm sure i've absorbed some of their incredible characterizations into my brain and bloodstream at this point. if you haven't yet experienced their fic, run. run!!! do not walk.

adult content herein, this is your warning lol

pre-canon

nellie has a june birthday. (she's a cancer. !! she's SUCH a cancer, y'all.... which may also be a little of annaleigh infusing a little of her own magic into her bc she is also a cancer lol)

her marriage to albert lovett was almost too good to be true, as far as her mother was concerned. he belonged to the merchant class and could provide for her. had she not married him, nellie likely would've gone into service.

albert was a decent husband, though no great lover. she dreamed early on of having a child, so she went about sex dutifully. life never resulted. it made her feel like a failure, so she buried the dream and got to work.

nellie never shied away from a hard day's work in the shop. albert took care of the butchering, but she insisted he show her how it was done. his protests that it wasn't "a woman's work" were quickly overridden. it was brutal work, but nellie had the stomach for it.

she liked the shop best when it was bustling with customers - so many people to talk to. the men often indulged her in a little banter and a chat, which albert didn't much mind. truthfully, he was grateful for anyone who engaged with his effusive young wife, as it gave him a moment's peace. women seemed unsure of her - she was even more unsure of them.

the barkers moved in a few years before albert's health began to decline. they were beautiful in an ethereal way that made nellie feel like pond scum. they were also deliriously in love - it was plain to all. lucy had a radiant smile all for benjamin, and benjamin had a hard time looking at anything else in a room when lucy was there to be looked at. whenever they visited the shop, lucy seemed eager to move benjamin along.

nellie fixated on benjamin's hands. he had an artist's hands - deft, graceful. they looked like they'd be soft to the touch. she tested this theory one afternoon when he sought shelter in her shop from a sudden downpour. she insisted he sit down and have a pie until the weather let up. as she handed him a plate, she made sure their fingers brushed, searching his face for some sign he was as intrigued by her and she was by him. the faint touch had sent a spark through her that was so utterly unfamiliar she felt a bit dizzy. a little sheepish, he'd offered her a polite smile - still, it was all for her. no lucy in sight. she'd tucked the moment away and revisited it often.

with benjamin around, albert became something cumbersome to her. though she was still fond of him, in a way, she occasionally found herself wishing she could be unburdened (she felt horribly guilty after she had these thoughts, but that didn't stop them from coming.)

she got her wish, in part, on a tuesday. nellie had left albert in the parlor the evening prior. he never came to bed. it was not a shock - he had been in poor health. he left her with a decent sum and she was sure she could keep the business going on her own. the barkers came a few days afterward, benjamin's brown eyes full of sorrow for her. lucy barker had offered her polite condolences, but nellie didn't think she sounded very sorry.

when nellie learned of the baby barker on the way, she was devastated. at night, she would lie awake and imagine the barkers blissfully entwined so nearby, benjamin's hands on lucy's growing belly, and ache and ache and wish that it had been her instead.

nellie was watching johanna the night lucy went to see the judge. when lucy returned, her skirts were torn. she dragged her feet in uneven steps, nearly bypassing the shop altogether before seeming to remember she had a child still to collect. nellie had felt such indignation for benjamin then, anger rising like bile. with benjamin so recently gone? had she no loyalty? she had bitten her tongue then, but promised herself she'd say something when the time was right. lucy had a queer look in her eye - she took johanna from nellie's arms without a word, without even a thank you, and disappeared up the stairs.

when all was said and done, and johanna whisked away by the judge, it fell to nellie to decide what was to be done with lucy. the former mrs. barker was so terribly addled, her beauty transfigured into something so pitiable it made nellie hiss just to look at her. she haunted the room upstairs until nellie forced her out. the money albert had left her was dwindling by the month, she reasoned - she could use a proper, paying tenant, and lucy wasn't worth a day's work. she had begged, of course, but nellie was in a fog of grief all her own. she hardened her heart to lucy's pleas and sent her howling into the london night.

in the years benjamin was gone, she rebranded the store as mrs lovett's in hopes it would bring in new customers. it did not do much to help. having sold everything she could bear to part with (not the razors, never the razors), she briefly considered selling her body. she'd decided she'd rather die.

canon events

she is starving in more ways than just one when benjamin returns to her. she's ashamed to admit it, but it takes her a moment to recognize him. she's midway through recounting the story of what happened years ago when she notices his sickly pallor, his expression growing more grim with every new detail until he begins to tremble. at exactly the moment she sees the hope flicker and die in this strange man's eyes, she feels something stir in her. a memory, tucked away for safekeeping, of brushing hands and a shy, soft smile. it's him. it's him it's him it's him, she thinks, and feels full for the first time in a long, long while.

the lie does not feel like a lie at first. lucy is as good as dead. the thing that wanders the alleys, yowling like a cat in heat and cursing anyone who draws too near, bears no resemblance to the pretty blonde wife benjamin had loved all those years ago. the lie tumbles out of her and it feels right. kind, even.

she would've welcomed him into her bed the very night he returned if he'd wanted it. the desire that alights in her the minute she has him all cleaned up is overwhelming; she tries to sate it in the early days with little touches here and there, drinking him in whenever she can. he jumps and starts at first. she teaches him, bit by bit, to once again welcome another person's touch. she has to try very hard not to be greedy. it takes patience, but she has all the time in the world for him.

they fuck for the first time after the contest with pirelli. they return to the shop triumphant, nellie on his arm like some sort of prize. there's a mean gleam in his eyes, so unlike the brooding, far-off look they often have these days. she had loved benjamin for all the softness in his ways, but she had been little more than a girl then, softer herself. that girl had not known what it was like to be sick with hunger and grief, to be alone for days on end. there is something dark and insatiable in this new man that calls to something similar in her. he proves it to her when he takes her on the countertop. it is messy and unceremonious and she is self-conscious. he leaves flour streaks in her hair and scratches down her arms she will later admire in front of her mirror.

nellie never knew sex could be like this. she never minds when it aches and bruises. it must be good for him too, to keep him coming back every night.

sometimes, when she manages to convince him to come out for a walk around town, nellie catches sweeney watching the children at play in the streets. she knows he must be thinking of johanna and for the first time in a long time, curses her womb for the life that can never seem to take hold there. she prays at night, harder than she's ever prayed before, for a child. when toby comes into their lives, she thinks, that'll do.

she holds those hands of his every chance she gets. they are not as soft now, but she doesn't mind. she cannot believe they are hers to touch. sometimes he is receptive to her touch, even reciprocal. other times, he pulls away from her as though burned. she tries not to fret over it, but it stings a bit.

she never tires of the little terms of endearment he throws her way - "pet", "love", etc. sweeney calls her "nell" once when he is distracted. it sends a thrill through her, even as he looks so surprised that it breaks her heart a little. he never does it again, but she never stops hoping he might.

nellie knows he isn't always seeing her when he looks at her. she knows she is not what he was hoping for, but is determined to be what he longs for now.

sweeney is sullen most of the time, but on the rare occasion he is pleased with something, he whistles absent-mindedly. whenever she hears him whistling a tune from the other room, she fancies it's her that's got him so pleased and grins like the cat that got the cream.

they do not eat the pies. the time after she comes up with their new business strategy is the best either of them has eaten in their lives, though. she spoils the boys as best she can with her cooking. even her own figure fills out in places she'd always wished it would.

sometimes, she sees in him traces of what she supposes used to be benjamin. when he’s too rough with her, she isn't fussed, but still, he apologizes afterward, embarrassed. when she's especially tired after a long day, he will make a little joke, and she'll catch him waiting to see that she laughs. when she tells him sometime in late spring that her birthday is approaching, lamenting her advancing age, he remembers the day. he agrees to walk with her and lets her pick out flowers from a stall at the market. he grows cross with her when it makes her teary, but she thinks he forgives her well enough for her blubbering when she sucks him off that evening.

sweeney todd is the only real friend she's ever had. neighbors and acquaintances about town were good for a chat every now and then, for delighting in the misfortunes of one's rivals, but who else would she trust with her life like this? his violence thrills her, even frightens her on occasion, but she never doubts her safety when he holds her - until she does. and by then, it's much too late.

she's the happiest she's ever been before just days before she dies.