(* normal people. @lovelack - Tumblr Blog

LOVELACK, a highly private and selective portrayal of marianne sheridan of s.ally rooney’s n.ormal people ( novel preference with tv show influence ) exploring themes of the abuse cycle and how to free yourself, first love and the way it changes, and how to love yourself in the aftermath. by kenna (she/her, 25+, gmt). also found at : @barnaes.

RULES / PINTEREST / AESTHETIC BLOG / PLAYLIST .

#do not perceive this.#pinned.

marianne will be moving to @destage

#im finding having a multi like... calmer right now.

TIME PASES BY , ANDSCARY IN THE ROLE OF EDDIE MUNSON , LOVELACK IN THE ROLE OF MARIANNE SHERIDAN. TIME ALWAYS PASSES .

fingers gently – LOVINGLY – stroke downwards across the edge of the guitar, before eddie swiftly turns on his heels to face marianne. “ no, no! ” hands wave 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢 in front of himself, “ – we get plenty of alone time, ” a wide grin spreads across his face, “and besides, i have company, and i would HATE to be rude. ”

there’s something strange about it , the kind that would call a comment to her lips , dripping with sarcasm , except ... except , no one else is willing to spend that much time with her , or invites her over when she’s stuck at home . it’s a lifeline she won’t do anything to ruin . so , instead she smiles .

MARIANNE : i’m worried about what you mean by alone time.

#( ... ) ANDSCARY — EDDIE MUNSON.#( ... ) THREADS — INDEED THERE ARE INFINITE ENDINGS. OR PERHAPS ONCE ONE BEGINS THERE ARE ONLY ENDINGS.

cardigan is a marianne song after connell takes someone else to the debs instead of her.

#moments that broke my heart.#( ... ) OUT OF CHARACTER — BUT I COME BACK STRONGER THAN A 90S TREND.

hi....... ily ♡

hi....... guess what? ♡ ily2 ♡

#saves.

possession

DAISY EDGAR-JONES Rosaline Shahnavaz ph. for Elle UK

#( ... ) VISAGE — GIRLHOOD IS GROWING FRUIT AROUND CYANIDE. IT WILL NEVER BE YOURS FOR THE SWALLOWING.

TIME PASES BY , WYHLDS IN THE ROLE OF SAM OBISANYA , LOVELACK IN THE ROLE OF MARIANNE SHERIDAN. TIME ALWAYS PASSES .

@wyhlds ( sam obisanya ) : you gonna eat that?

the clock ticks lazily past seven - eighteen , time literally passing before her eyes as she pushes forkfuls of food idly around the plate ; perhaps consciousness has wandered somewhere else . she knows the weight of the days that pass , the ones when the loneliness becomes so all - encompassing that she can barely see past the fog it brings . there’s a place , a past , she can never go back to , every room of the house haunted by ghosts and lined with splintered bones ; so why does the longing still fill her , linger behind the upturn of falsified smiles ? and he holds a light so shining that she wonders how it has survived , how it has made it through a world meant to dim all the good it finds . how could she offer him rot and call it nourishment ? how could a haunting come so close ? and still , she smiles the practiced smile , pushes the plate across the table as if nothing her turned her stomach ; it’s good food , he should have it .

MARIANNE : no, i’m not hungry. it’s all yours if you want it.

#<3333 #( ... ) ANSWERED — I’VE BEEN RUNNING ROUND IN CIRCLES PRETENDING TO BE MYSELF.

TIME PASES BY , MESMERSI IN THE ROLE OF SERSI , LOVELACK IN THE ROLE OF MARIANNE SHERIDAN. TIME ALWAYS PASSES .

sersi is grateful for the brightening of her casual acquaintance and finds herself spoiled when she witnesses the colouring of a small smile - the simple gestures often provide the most meaning. she doesn’t care to wonder if it is genuine or not. ❝ sounds like a pretty rude awakening. did anyone ever run into you again ? ❞ humour is laced with a horrible sense of foreboding as sersi leans her elbows against the bar, curious to continue a small jest at the expense of brazen men but fearing the worst of it in the same measure. ❝ i had to get a new chippy entirely. ❞

it’s easy to laugh , to craft the sound out of the space between her ribcage and wear it well across cheeks painted rose - shades . there’s a sense of companionship in the worst of things , in the way they have all made methods to protect themselves . the truth comes in patterns of purple and blue , a harsh shade that makes everything around it ugly ; she’ll only give out the beautiful lies that she’s made up , the ones that trick the gaze and make light of the world . marianne’s always been good at making up stories .

MARIANNE : sometimes. i’m pretty good at being forgettable though so i probably realised faster than they did.

#( ... ) THREADS — INDEED THERE ARE INFINITE ENDINGS. OR PERHAPS ONCE ONE BEGINS THERE ARE ONLY ENDINGS.

TIME PASES BY , DINOPUNCHING IN THE ROLE OF CAROL DANVERS , LOVELACK IN THE ROLE OF MARIANNE SHERIDAN. TIME ALWAYS PASSES .

a faint smile haunts her as she lifts the cup with both hands, relishes in the cool touch of porcelain against her autumn-chapped lips & then inhales the waft of dark roast coffee. her eyes flutter shut before the finale of a silent sip ––– she finds comfort in the rich scent & the beverage’s bitter edge against the soft bed of her tongue. proof of life if you will: a reminder that she isn’t a joint dislocated from the skeleton of the world after all. ❝ hmm, i sure hope i’m wrong about the boss thing, ❞ carol mutters while she sets the cup back down on the table, then reveals a sharpened gaze. ❝ kinda gives me the ick, if m’honest. ❞ the statement is punctuated with an involuntary shudder, which luckily serves as a breakwater for the ripples of nausea crashing against her shores.

she spares the pair of older man & younger woman another glance over her shoulder, now allowing it to linger in contrast with the before. there is something scrutinising about the way in which she narrows her eyes & worries her bottom lip between her teeth. ❝ my current boss is actually a little like that. not in the touchy feely sense, more in the ‘women belong in the kitchen’ sense. i have him handled, though. ❞ the tail end of her sentence is slightly muffled as she abandons her field study into strangers’ relationship dynamics & turns to face the brunette opposite her anew. deep blue eyes peer curiously at the woman & a bright, friendly smile unfolds. ❝ call me carol, by the way. i’m guessing you’re not from around here, judging by the accent ? it’s not at all new yorker-y. ❞ then neither was hers. though she had rid herself of the typical boston drawl years ago, trace amounts of it lingered on her vocal chords, ready to be picked up by those with keen ears.

perhaps she’d thought she’d become used to the loneliness , convinced herself that she doesn’t have to seen to exists among the world . she’d become a master at the disappearing act . there’s a moment though , when the other woman looks right in her eyes , and she feels herself crashing back down into her own body , a sudden starkness of reality . cheeks upturn as she looks across the table , a practiced pleasantry to the way that she smiles , rehearsed before the bathroom mirror as she imagined herself rejoining the world . even ghosts become tired of being unseen , of having themselves passed over time and time again ; still , if she is not thought of , she cannot be hurt .

MARIANNE : we’ll decide that you’re wrong about it, and then we won’t ask unless we absolutely have to. then we can pretend it doesn’t exist.

she thinks there’s an inheritance to playing pretend , knows it was knitted into her bones the way it was knitted into her mothers ; there’s an intimacy to the coldness that has never left her . she thinks , perhaps , her power lies in the way she has always stomached it , that she has learnt to live in spite of the ice they see . she wouldn’t want them knowing anything otherwise , softness is too often seen as weakness .

MARIANNE : it’s a right of passage, right? although sometimes it feels like it’s more... repeatedly walking through the fire. but i don’t doubt you on having him handled.

the other woman seems like the type to do that , to recognise horrors and fight her way out ; marianne’s never been like that , brittle bones and too used to putting her hand on the stove to feel the heat now . she’s trying not to fall back to endless patterns , trying to make something better for herself somewhere among the ashes of who she once was .

MARIANNE : marianne, and no, not from here. i just moved across a couple of months ago, haven’t quite picked up the accent in that time.

#( ... ) DINOPUNCHING — CAROL DANVERS.#( ... ) THREADS — INDEED THERE ARE INFINITE ENDINGS. OR PERHAPS ONCE ONE BEGINS THERE ARE ONLY ENDINGS.

TIME PASES BY , HISRULE IN THE ROLE OF ROBB STARK , LOVELACK IN THE ROLE OF MARIANNE SHERIDAN. TIME ALWAYS PASSES .

@hisrule : can i do anything?

tuesday is soaked through rain - boots that catch on her feet when she walks , a hood not - quite fitting and dripping salt sweet across her cheeks ; she imagines she makes quite the picture . droplets make waterfalls down her form , a sweeping motion calling goosebumps towards the surface , paleness washed down with a flushed rose - pink . with a bank balance reaching net zero , the walk had appealed more than a bus , one of the few bodies to risk the somewhat torrential weather . perhaps foolish , perhaps stubborness ; her bones iron - clad and propped up on splints , an inability to admit when she struggles to hold the world alone , when survival doesn’t feel guaranteed . she’s learnt to shoulder the burden , to leave the past behind and never admit to why no one back home answers on the nights that she’s foolish enough to let hope in and call . she smiles anyway , no use getting stuck dwelling .

MARIANNE : maybe a towel... for the floor. i’m sort of... leaking on it.

#<33333 #( ... ) ANSWERED — I’VE BEEN RUNNING ROUND IN CIRCLES PRETENDING TO BE MYSELF.

be-artistic-deactivated20230306

#( ... ) AESTHETIC — IN THE WAY I TALK. IN ALL THE SPLINTERS I HAVE SWALLOWED. I HAVE BEEN BURYING THINGS MY WHOLE LIFE.#nsfw /

TIME PASES BY , CHARMSHIP IN THE ROLE OF PRINCE CHARMING , LOVELACK IN THE ROLE OF MARIANNE SHERIDAN. TIME ALWAYS PASSES .

❝ at some point you just start to think – am i the problem? ❞ pensiveness becomes the man’s handsome features, the picture of one in deep self-reflection. he seems to be going down the right path, a dark one that would eventually lead to brighter ways … but then the line on his face soften, abandoning all forms of concern. ❝ but i haven’t gotten there yet. i just am bad at picking ‘em, you know what i mean? ❞

the bar attracts confessions , people spilling secrets and hoping they stick to counter - tops , hoping they no longer exist by the time the doors start calling . marianne collects the snippets of their lives , holds the up to microscopes and carries them with her , stories that she can learn to wear herself . but heartbreak , that she knows well , carries deep in the hollows of her bones ; those are her kinds of stories .

MARIANNE : i think we all assume we’re the problem, like a default. sometimes things just have to suck for a while before they get there. at least... i’m hoping so.

#<3 #( ... ) THREADS — INDEED THERE ARE INFINITE ENDINGS. OR PERHAPS ONCE ONE BEGINS THERE ARE ONLY ENDINGS.

TIME PASES BY , GUNBASH IN THE ROLE OF SEBASTIAN MORAN , LOVELACK IN THE ROLE OF MARIANNE SHERIDAN. TIME ALWAYS PASSES.

❝ THAT’S TRUE . i’ve got plenty to share with you when we reach the place . ❞ he watches her smile and recognizes it , pinpoints its placement among their dialogue . ❝ you really should come to london , if just for a bit . YOU JUST SAID IT YOURSELF — people who stay put don’t get interesting stories to tell , so come make some memories in a visit my way . or if you ever feel like wandering into another country , call me up for that , too . i make a very good travel companion . ❞ there’s a lingering puddle in their path , so sebastian , ever the gentleman , guides marianne around it with a kind hand to her side . ❝ i’m tall . i can be pretty INTIMIDATING . great to summon for emergencies . i know my wine . i can throw a … well , i say DECENT . a decent punch . if you end up attracting any lousy parties with your pretty eyes , i’ll run to your defense . ❞ in another attempt at making her laugh , he puffs up his chest a bit . ❝ then again , that probably discourages you from visiting . IGNORE ME . ❞ a broad smile . ❝ are there any places you’d like to visit ? in general . sights . landmarks . where do you dream of going , marianne ? ❞

she’s looked out towards the ocean from behind worn - down pages of books , daydreamed of stormy seas and other places ; what girl raised by the beach has ever been content with staying still ? her heart has been given in endless longing , has attached itself to the idea of floating away and becoming someone , anyone , else . and now he dangles escape like a lifeline , offers it out when she has no idea how best to get out , when she’s stuck in the one place that’s choking her . for a moment , the street signs catch too much attention , vulnerabilities swimming to her eyes as she thinks all that she’s wanting to say , all the aching , splintered truths that build up like bullets behind her ribs . she thought she’d held the loneliness , thought it had become so constant that it couldn’t hurt her here ; now it is cutting .

MARIANNE : it’s a nice thought, bash.

the words wistful , tinged in that strange way when she says nothing and everything at once , brushed past easily while she paints her cheeks with a smile . it’s easy to make light , a well - practiced instinct that sits heavy in her bones .

MARIANNE : anywhere really, i’m not fussy. i always thought i’d live in italy a while though, near where we have the house, but not so close that it’s right there. somewhere sunny.

#( ... ) GUNBASH — SEBASTIAN MORAN.#( ... ) THREADS — INDEED THERE ARE INFINITE ENDINGS. OR PERHAPS ONCE ONE BEGINS THERE ARE ONLY ENDINGS.