Renegade Nell - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

5 months ago
Gonna Bake A Cake When We Hit Hundred

gonna bake a cake when we hit hundred


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5 months ago

love how when starting Renegade Nell you're like "oh yeah the sister is gonna be the rational one here" and then two seconds later "WITCHCRAFT AND DECEIT"


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5 months ago
Happy One Hundred Works On Ao3!!!!!

happy one hundred works on ao3!!!!!

this cake was a series of unfortunate events, so be glad you don't have to taste it. it was supposed to be red velvet but our food colouring expired so now it's a "brown, sort of dung colour"

anyways, thank you, everyone who has ever written ff for this wonderful show, published or not, your stories matter!

Gonna Bake A Cake When We Hit Hundred

gonna bake a cake when we hit hundred


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5 months ago
My Sibling's Reaction To This Cake Could Only Be Expressed Through Art

my sibling's reaction to this cake could only be expressed through art

Gonna Bake A Cake When We Hit Hundred

gonna bake a cake when we hit hundred


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5 months ago

Escape (Renegade Nell fic)

Summary: Thomas can’t take it anymore. He runs away to London, hoping to escape his ghosts, only to end up right back where he started.

[Aka filling in some scenes between episodes 4-6.]

Notes: I’ve had this in my drafts for a while, but I realized we were sitting at 99 total fics on ao3 which motivated me to finally finish it and post. This is now the 100th fic yay! Also it almost feels like some scenes were cut in regard to Thomas, so I wanted to explore a little of what he was up to between scenes.

TW: ghosts (or hallucinations, who knows), drinking, self deprecation, canonical death/patricide, unhappy ending, kidnapping

AO3 link

Everywhere Thomas looked, his father’s dead face glared back at him. His father’s voice constantly mocked and berated him. It made him want to scream— sometimes he couldn’t stop himself.

And Poynton. Poynton was coming. Poynton who got them all into this mess. Poynton with his words like honeyed poison.

Thomas couldn’t take it. He had to escape. He snapped at the nearest servant to prepare the carriage, then stalked to his room to pack his things.

”Weak, pathetic, coward,” his father’s voice sneered.

Thomas flinched, but didn’t bother responding. He knew he was and he hated it. He couldn’t hold up the facade of being otherwise, not without help.

Not long after, he heard his sister’s footsteps approach. “What exactly are you doing?” Sofia asked.

“Leaving. Going to London. You can’t stop me.” Thomas stuffed some random clothes into a bag.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? With your—“

Thomas whirled on her. “Stop! Just stop. I’ve made up my mind. I’m going. If I stay here one day longer I’ll go mad. I can’t…” He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “You won’t listen to me about Poynton, fine. Dig your own grave, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. I will not be under the same roof as him ever again.”

Sofia reached out to put a hand on his arm. “If you are truly set on this…” She sighed. “Perhaps a change of scene would be good for you. I’ll cover for you here. Just… be careful, please.”

Thomas shrugged her off. “Good. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” If ever.

“Will you at least write?”

“Maybe.” He doubted there would be much to write about, if he’d even be sober enough to string together anything coherent.

“Farewell, then.”

Thomas simply nodded to her and went back to preparing his things. He heard her footfalls retreat and the door close behind her.

~*~

London was as he remembered it. Bustling and loud and colorful. The perfect escape to lose himself in.

Time passed in a blur. He drank. He followed his old friends around to their usual hangouts. He fell back into old patterns of gambling and cards. He almost managed to forget. Sometimes he thought he saw a glimpse of his father’s ghost, but it would quickly be lost in the crowds. His friends helped distract him.

The hangovers were torturous, but he’d gladly take that over the horror that home had become. It was worth it. It had to be. What else could he do?

~*~

Then the worst happened. Poynton’s men found him in his room, while he was vulnerable and alone. Poynton strode over to him.

Thomas froze, staring at them. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Was he hallucinating? Dreaming? How much had he drank again? This couldn’t be happening. His head hurt, his stomach twisted in knots.

“Neither are you,” Poynton said, calm and collected as always, his voice soft almost to the point of patronizing. “I’m here to take you home, Thomas.”

“No!” Thomas staggered back and tripped over a chair. The fall didn’t help, he didn’t wake up. “No, I won’t go back! You can’t make me!”

Poynton looked down at him and sighed. “Please don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be. Let me help you.”

Thomas shrank back. “Leave me alone!”

“I promised your sister I would return with you. You wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings, now would you?”

She betrayed him. How could she? He never should have told her where he was going. He should have disappeared off the face of the earth entirely. No one would miss him.

“Come now, Thomas.” Poynton took a step closer and offered his hand. The snakes on his ring twisted and danced. Thomas couldn’t look away as much as he wanted to.

”Sleep, Thomas. Sleep. All will be well. Sleep,” the voices whispered.

The world went black.

~*~

The next time Thomas woke he was in his father’s bedroom, with his father’s ghost glaring at him.

There was no escape. Nowhere he could run without being dragged back to hell.

He screamed.


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5 months ago

i think the reason nell's character can be analysed and understood from all these different perspectives (nellfia, pollynell, arospec nell) is because she is legit just such a repressed person. the show (or the first season at least) leaves a lot of gaps for viewers to fill in, which kinda contributes to the whole hectic atmosphere you feel. we don't know how nell feels, and nell doesn't either.

i think it's quite clever writing, but i wish we could've learned more about nell (+sofia) in a second season

Thinking about the dynamics between the 'good' and 'bad' sides in renegade nell.

Sofia ofc is obsessed with catching Nell, which starts as a quick action to cover for Thomas but then kind of spins out of control into a full obsession with finding her and killing her. Poynton is curious about Nell but only really in a way of trying to figure out how best he could use her to his advantage, either through figuring out how she got her strength or through Sofias obsession with her.

Meanwhile, Nell outwardly doesn't really give a shit about them throughout the show. Her focus is pretty only on keeping her sisters safe and finding out how to get past this whole bounty issue. Its a safe bet she hates Thomas, yknow on the whole account of him killing her father thing and then framing her for murder. Queen of repressed feelings honestly cause she doesn't really address it during the show, she hasn't got time to.

She does get to rant about Sofia though!! Though I get the impression she more just finds Sofia a nuisance. A big nuisance, on the account of trying to kill her with magic and all that, but its fustration she shows outwardly not hate. And I don't think Nell is really aware of Poynton until they figure out theres a plot against the Queen, literally meeting him for the first time as she tries to kill him. Nell even readily works with Sofia at the end, being really civil and almost nice all things considered.

Nell is the root of their problems, but the root of Nell's problems is just the whole system.

And then coupling this with the flip side, where Charles and Polly are infatuated with her. So many people have a lot of big feelings about Nell and she is just trying her best to sideline them for more important things. Like not being captured and protecting her family.

I would have loved to see how these dynamics would have changed in season 2 though. You could definitely feel Nell's feelings about Sofia switch from neutral annoyance to proper hatred in those last few scenes. Ahhhh


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4 months ago
Dykes To Run Away From
Dykes To Run Away From
Dykes To Run Away From
Dykes To Run Away From

dykes to run away from


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4 months ago

Preliminary Thoughts on Costuming in Renegade Nell and Gender and Class as a Performance

When Nell Jackson is just being herself, she's got her signature messy mishmash of signifiers. She's wearing mostly masculine clothes and is seen as a woman just about as often as she is seen as a man. She's just Nell.

When she dresses in all the signifiers of a specific gender or class, it's always a performance. She's "Nelly, Sam's long lost daughter, back from the grave." She's "Lady Somebody travelling with her husband, attending a card game with local toffs." She's "the Duchess of Argyll, seeking urgent medical assistance." She's "a doctor, willing to treat a typhus out break in a prison."

People believe her in the role until she says something that gives her away. But it's not really her. It's not Nell Jackson.

And it's the same with Charles. I can't draw much on his performance of gender because the 1705 impression of masculine gender expression is wildly different from 2024. But his performance of class is still very notable.

Isambard Tulley isn't him. It's a performance of a rough, dangerous highwayman. The clothes he wears, his hair, even his voice, everything is different except for his laugh.

Charles Devereux isn't really him either. He doesn't have the money or really fit in those spaces. But he wears the wig, pastel outfits, the frills and bows. He plays the part of the toff just as well as he does the highwayman.

Even when he's the Queen, people only realise he isn't when he shows them he isn't.

The scenes where the performance slips and Charles is just himself are all scenes with Nell and her sisters. When he meets Nell after she's been thrown out of the enlistment office and she calls him out on being Isambard Tulley, his mask slips. Then again, when he offers her his horse, that's not the toff Devereux voice.

We see him most himself when they're in hiding in the Inn and he's doing card tricks for George while telling them why he became a highwayman. He's essentially in a state of undress, no wig or makeup, the remnants of finery, which perfectly fits the topic at hand. I need to do a rewatch but I think also when he and George are sat under the tree like a Baroque painting. He's dressed partly in the leftovers of his Queen costume and partly in what looks like the shirt and trousers of his Tulley costume. (A shot comparison to certain Baroque paintings would be a good analysis to do too)

I think that little moment in the prison with Nell, when he's talking about not escaping but staying to clear his name fits this too. He's himself with her, dressed in his finery and leg shackles, but he's also been fundamentally changed by being around Nell and her family. He did the crimes he's been charged with, but at the same time he's right. Charles Devereux didn't do those things. Charles Devereux is just another character he plays.

For both Nell and Charles (maybe even Roxy and George too but I need to rewatch with this in mind), when they are most themselves, their costumes are mixed bag of signifiers for different genders and social classes and they're in a state of undress. No jackets or waistcoats done up, no wigs or hair do's.

I think, at the end, when Nell is presented to the Queen in full uniform, but curtsies, and Charles is wearing the same blue colour that accents Nells sleeves. That's neither of them pretending to be someone their not, but there is still an element of performativity. They are performing the role of themselves, the highway robbers who saved the Queen.


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6 months ago

Watching Renegade Nell. Is so. Frustrating. GIVE HER A BREAK!!!!!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN!! THE MAGISTRATE DIED AND SHES BLAMED AGAIN?!???!?? THE BROTHER OF THE KINDEST DOCTOR IN THE WORLD??????? LITERALLY THE FIRST NICE PERSON SO FAR???????????????? AND NOW HIS BROTHER IS DEAD. WHAT IF HE THINKS IT'S WAS NELL EVEN THOUGH HE BELIEVED HER AT FIRST?? GRRATAGAHGARRRRRRRRRTTTTRRRRRR!!!!!HHJGKHLHLJ:;:JKHLJ&_(KJFJDLK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I enjoy this show you should watch it too


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6 months ago

Hhrgghh... You're not gonna believe this (the plot just developed again)

Watching Renegade Nell. Is so. Frustrating. GIVE HER A BREAK!!!!!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN!! THE MAGISTRATE DIED AND SHES BLAMED AGAIN?!???!?? THE BROTHER OF THE KINDEST DOCTOR IN THE WORLD??????? LITERALLY THE FIRST NICE PERSON SO FAR???????????????? AND NOW HIS BROTHER IS DEAD. WHAT IF HE THINKS IT'S WAS NELL EVEN THOUGH HE BELIEVED HER AT FIRST?? GRRATAGAHGARRRRRRRRRTTTTRRRRRR!!!!!HHJGKHLHLJ:;:JKHLJ&_(KJFJDLK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I enjoy this show you should watch it too


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9 months ago

Hey. Hey look at me. Yeah you.

You should watch Renegade Nell. Cuz it's awesome. And super different and original. And fun. And a girl gets to beat a lot of ass. And it's like a cowboy story set in 1700s England. And also there's magic. And it's really emotional. And you get to absolutely fall in love with Nell and her sisters Roxy and George. And it uses its historical fiction setting to make statements about class and privilege and prisons and other stuff that feels both in line with the era the story takes place in and can be applied to the modern world, but it never feels like it's shouting at you about its message. And it's an original story that isn't based on anything, isn't a reboot of anything, and we've been starving for stuff like that (especially from Disney).

And uhhh. I think you'd like it. Ok bye.


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9 months ago

Renegade Nell is such a tumblrcoded show pls go watch it


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7 months ago
Me Desculpem Pela Qualidade Do Gif Mas Eu Tive Que Postar Essa Cena
Me Desculpem Pela Qualidade Do Gif Mas Eu Tive Que Postar Essa Cena
Me Desculpem Pela Qualidade Do Gif Mas Eu Tive Que Postar Essa Cena

Me desculpem pela qualidade do gif mas eu tive que postar essa cena 🤒🤒🤒


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6 months ago

‘i’ll always fix you up’ | nell jackson

Ill Always Fix You Up | Nell Jackson
Ill Always Fix You Up | Nell Jackson
Ill Always Fix You Up | Nell Jackson

pairing: lesbian!nell jackson x lesbian! reader - can probably be read as anyone if wearing skirts is comfortable to you!

fandom: renegade nell

summary: post canon. post final battle. Nell is making her way out of the final battle having been injured, and reader fixes her up, taking care of her.

CW: mentions of blood and wounds, hints at death/loss, I think that’s it please let me know if there’s anymore

WC: 2.7k

i’m very open to feedback and comments so please feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me a message, and let me know what you think! ♥︎

—————————————————————————

“Nell!?” Roxy calls, a call full of hope and desperation.

My head flicks around, eyes darting to the sandstone entrance of the estate. A figure barely visible behind columns that tower, the human size appearing so small next to this grand structure.

“She’s there” Charles huffs out with relief. Whether it’s for his own confirmation or confirming it for Roxy, I’m not sure… and to be honest I don’t care right now. I haul myself off the ground and out of the huddle of people.

Hiking up my layers of dress I follow Roxy down the gravel path with a hurried pace, watching the limping figure full of deep reds run towards us. These reds filled her breeches, her long coat... the blood on her cheek.

Little Georgie’s close behind “Nelly!”

I stop just behind Roxy, letting her sisters breathe relief into Nell’s shoulder… relief that she’s still here and she’s okay. None of us were willing to say it out loud, but a knowing and troubled glance had been cast between eyes all day. Everyone knew whatever this battle was, it was big. And if Poynton could plunge us into night… God only knows if Nell had stood a chance. But here she was, soul and body together.

The air around Nell is heavy, her brows furrowed, and face scrunched so as not to sob in front of the people she always keeps a strong front for. Despite this, her crying breaths were the only sound that filled the air as she motioned for everyone to go in for a hug.

Slowly, each of us loosens our grip but stay close to offer support of her weight. My arm is linked under her right, Roxy on her left to take as much weight off her limping foot as we could. My own eyes are hot and stinging at this point, from either relief, worry, or both, but this was our turn to keep strong and together for Nell.

Making our way down the gravel path, it is slow and quiet, an air of hope and relief, but also filled with despair, from whatever Nell is feeling.

Here I notice Charles, linked arms with Her Majesty the Queen in the flesh, undoubtedly carrying out the beginnings of damage control. I presume more guards will be here soon to take the Queen back to the palace, and I presume Charles will go along to get back to his toff life. But right now my focus was Nell.

Ahead I could see the horses, with a look of unrest and unease in themselves, heads nodding up and down, hoofs kicking up the dirt under them as they trod about on the spot. There are two horses here, one a chestnut brown that looks almost ginger where the sunlight hits, the other, a broad and tall horse, with a dirty white coat. Both of these horses are saddled with a fine brown leather and all sorts of supplies hanging off it. I have always thought that horses were more in tune with their surroundings than humans. I’ve thought that maybe they’re ethereal in a sense… that they have to know something we don’t. Maybe Nell knows whatever this is too, hence her own unease.

Now standing next to the broad white horse I place my hands either side of Nell’s waist, hoisting her onto the horse.

“Alright?” I say to Roxy, George and Rasselas. They all nod.

“Alright,” Roxy replies, casting the most reassuring glance she could find in herself.

With legs of jelly that still felt like a thousand stones, I hoist my own body onto the saddle in front of Nell. Before I even manage to settle on it, Nell wraps her arms around my waist and rests her head between my shoulder blades.

I strain my head around and again ask her “Alright?” She just nods without lifting her head, her cheek brushing against the middle of my back with each movement, igniting a sort of fluttery feeling in my body.

Right now, with the low sun filtering through the oaks and birches, painting dancing shadows on her frizzy red hair, gentle features and closed lids, I couldn’t help but think she looked so pretty. She’d frown at me all funny if I ever told her that, but after not knowing whether I could’ve lost her today or not I had to stare for a second.

“Oi” Rasselas called, the other Trotter sisters piled around him on a chestnut brown horse, “We really gotta get back.”

This had abruptly taken me out of my moment of peaceful blatant staring, which no doubt didn’t go unnoticed by the others, to reach back and pat Nell’s thigh as I get the horse moving forward.

Back at the Talbot

I guide Nell threw her bedroom door, maintaining contact at every moment I can, whether it’s a hand on her back or arm. I don’t know whether I’ve done this to make sure she knows I’m here, or to make myself sure she’s still here. As we get in, I support her elbows as I sit her down on the edge of the bed, the white linen sheets laid out in a sort of picturesque way. Her usually warm brown eyes are glazed over and cast off to nowhere. What the hell happened in there to shake her up this much? Whatever it was it drives my instinct to just loosely grasp the dip in the back of her head and quickly, but firmly, I place a kiss at her hairline. This seems to just be enough to snap her out of whatever daze she was in and look up at me.

Those big brown eyes of hers will be the death of me, I think to myself.

I muster a tender smile; one I think isn’t totally convincing with a slightly furrowed brow. I reach for her hands in her lap as I squat below her line of eye.

“Nell… what happened in there?”

“I…” she lets out a brisk exhale, one I suspect hiding another sob. “I just lost the most important thing,” she places a hand under her nose, almost as if to catch any of her own soul that may come out through tears. Tears which begin rolling down her freckled, bloody cheeks.

I don’t know what to say to this, what can I say to make whatever this hurt is go away? Nothing I suspect. So I stay quiet for a moment, hands squeezing hers, looking up through the fallen bits of her hair to her squeezed eyes. The image of which gives a squeezing sensation in my own heart.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” I whisper. She gives a small, quick nod, with the corners of her mouth moving slightly up. And although this is small, I notice it and take it as a thanks. I’d do this a hundred times over and more for her. Although I don’t know anything other than this that I can do for her right now.

Moving ever so slowly so as not to startle her, I stand up. I pull her coat down and away from her shoulders. She’s sitting on it, and I won’t dare move her right now, so I let the top half of it fall just behind her on the bed. Next, I move towards the knot of her patterned scarf. I slide between her legs to get closer to work on the knot, delicately untying it and pulling it down and under her ragged ponytail. Nell leans her head forward again, pressing it against my ribs, which very quickly leads to our arms being wrapped around each other tightly.

I don’t know how long we stayed like this. I soak it up though, her smell, how she feels pressed into me. I know Nell isn’t one for hugs normally, and even in the state she’s in, I’m selfish in enjoying it.

Nell and I have had a strong familiarity with one another for a long time now, since the Trotters gave me work at the Talbot. It helped me keep my bills paid and was always good company when I needed it. The Trotters have always been good to me. Still, there always has been something more between Nell and I. Glances that last a bit too long, comments made in jest (but not really), and a real thick air... so thick it doesn’t feel like you can cross it or break it. And often when I’m lying in bed, one side cold with white moonlight, I am warm with thoughts of Nell. Everything she is with her charisma, her strength, her perseverance. On these nights, I am also tormented with memories of the very long year we had been robbed of all that is Nell Jackson. This creeps around my mind, plaguing it. Never for long though, swiftly replaced with the joy that I know she’s only a few streets down.

Tonight, the air between Nell and myself doesn’t feel so thick. Tonight, our souls feel like they’re reaching out, making our bodies reach out too. This bliss with her is nice but worry is quickly filling my mind again.

“Nelly Jackson we really need to get these wounds cleaned up, yeah?” And with a brief, but noticed eye roll, I pull away and move towards the nightstand.

I reach into the bowl of water Roxy had put in here earlier with a cloth, and luckily the water was still lukewarm. I soak the cloth and make sure to ring it out enough to not drip everywhere. As I step back over to Nell, she’s got her back slightly slouched but face looking up waiting for me to tend to her. I start with her forehead. A nasty hit that happened many hours ago now, dried and crusted blood come off as I wipe the wound. She winces a bit.

“I’m sorry.”

She grabs my wrist in front of her face. “No need for that aye? You’re doin’ me a favour.”

“Yeah, well no, well... I’m just lookin’ after ya’, you know.” I say darting from one eye to another. “Looked like you took a good beatin’ back there I ain’t ever seen anybody thrown around as much as you and either lived to tell the tale or got up and walked away like you did.” I babble in one breath, still looking down right at her with what I can only presume is an expression of astonishment.

“Yeah… well… Billy saved me.” She mumbles.

“Billy?”

“Doesn’t matter, the point is… I don’t know what the point is but I made it out, yeah? And Poynton’s, well, he’s dead and now Sofia and Thomas are going God only knows where, but away from here. The Queen’s safe, Charles isn’t gonna get hanged so I guess the point is it all worked out?” Nell spits this out, jagged and almost like she’s trying to prove a point. But her tone sounds like a question.

“Yeah. Everyone’s safe. So why don’t I feel like you believe that?” I query.

“Doesn’t matter okay just leave it alone.”

This makes it loud and clear she’s done talking about this subject, so I widen the distance a little, but continue wiping down her face. She’s looking off to the side, just staring at the beams that line the roof. But I’m watching her, still, and I notice she’s in more discomfort than she’s letting on, and much more discomfort than a few cuts on her forehead and cheek are worth.

“Where does it hurt?” I ask. She spins her head back to me, a look of shock but quickly accepts that we have a way of reading each other.

“ ’ere.” She points to her right side. “And my back.”

“Can I have a look?” I ask gently, my hands slowly moving towards the hem of her shirt. She nods at me, reassuring me that this is okay, and I slide the white linen shirt over her head, careful not to bump the wounds.

At the first glance I shudder and let out an ‘oooow’ sound. She has a quick peek too but quickly looks away as if that’ll make it hurt less. With a proper look from myself (who is not a doctor), her right ribs are a deep, unsettling purple, the skin grazed and scabbed. I cast her a worrying glance, more directed towards wishing she wasn’t in this pain right now.

I refresh the cloth, then crouch in front of her, and with a feather touch, I clean it. Now, I’m mostly deeply focused on cleaning the wound and not causing more pain. But I’m not so focused that I don’t notice her looking very directly down at me. This, admittingly, makes me quite nervous. I feel a sudden tension, thick, and I’m urged to break it.

“You know I’d take your pain if I could right now…” I look up at her, eyes flicking between the task and her own encompassing eyes, and earnestly I say “I’m sorry you’re goin’ frew all this.” Nell stays silent after this, which has been of no help to me to cut the tension.

After I do the best I can, I crawl onto the bed and place myself cross-legged behind her. Again I wince at the sight of the injury but I don’t let her hear or see it. I want to do whatever I can to calm her. I pick up her ponytail and brush it over her left shoulder. I presume doing this has tickled her shoulder, because I notice an array of goosebumps growing on her shoulders and arms, particularly noticeable with the angle of the light beaming in the room. With the cloth around my hand, I start with the outside of the bruises and grazes and work my way to the middle of them.

We spend more minutes in silence. This time a comfortable and easy silence. I think we both find each other’s company mostly easy, when we don’t think about it too much.

Once I finish delicately and meticulously cleaning her back, I lean forward and place a kiss behind the last swipe of the cloth. A natural action, I find. But at this, she turns her head and torso back and just gawks at me. The eye contact feels intrusive but a welcome intrusion into my soul.

Nell leans closer in, just inches from my face, excruciatingly slow, and in this moment I’ve lost all concept of time. My thoughts run very fast, but some I catch are lips, soft, eyes. And God she looks so beautiful, bare shoulders in this low light, lips slightly parted, hair draped over one shoulder. I wish I could stare at a painting of that forever. These thoughts are very probably my last tether to composure because my body is leaning forward very quickly and pressing my lips against Nell’s full lips. We both relax into it quickly, and yet I quickly pull back.

“Sorry,” I whisper, fingers brushing my own lips in disbelief. An action you wouldn’t normally do in front of the person you just kissed and yet I have, because I think I’ve lost any sense of self-control. Before I’ve finished gathering a thought on what I’ve just done, Nell plants her own lips firmly on mine again. Instinctively, my hands move around, one planting at the nape of her neck and the other resting at her waist. The feeling of her skin feels divine.., magic.

I notice her hand, cold fingertips buried within my skirt running circles on my thigh. Yet again I’ve lost all senses. After who knows how long, we part. Our foreheads are firmly pressed together, guided by her hand on the back of my head, and we are panting hot breaths into each other’s mouths.

“I’ve thought about doing that a lot,” Nell admits, a smile of relief filling her face. There’s a warmth back in her eyes for now. No more distant stares.

“Hah, me too Nell. More than I’ll admit for now.”

“Thanks for lookin’ out for me. Don’t know what I’d do without ya’.” She huffs out.

“I’ll always fix you up.” I respond. I hold eye contact with her, so she’s assured that if anything serious comes outta my mouth, it’ll be this. I grab her hand in her lap, keep my forehead to hers and just close my eyes. And I hope that we can stay like this forever.

I repeat in a whisper, “I’ll always fix you up.”


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6 months ago

sign this or I’ll come for your childhood teddy bear 😠

Sign the Petition
Change.org
Commission a second series of Disney’s Renegade Nell

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