#revolution 0 by boygenius says hi

[paperglader]

I'm just thinking about Laudna, and how it always surprised me how easy it was for her to reciprocate Imogen's feelings the moment that she made them known to her, considering the fact that she had said so herself how it was a part of her that she hadn't been able to reach for thirty years. And now, with Delilah straight up telling her that she shoul've been dead for years, and the only thing keeping her alive have been Delilah's whims, and how easy it was for Laudna to accept that as the truth. It just all makes sense, because Laudna has been living on burrowed time for decades and she's been fully aware of it the entire time. I don't believe she's had many expectations of what her own future might be, she's just been living day by day, gracious of being able to keep roaming this world, in spite of other's wishes in the past. She spent thirty years, lonesome, feared, aimless, without really any reason to live- and yet still here, for one reason or another, here. Not dead. Until two and a half years ago, where she found the company of a woman, who at the time had been carrying endless amounts of pain on her shoulders, a loneliness almost as vast as hers, tragic past included and all- who somehow also happened to be practically the only person in thirty years to find comfort in her company, to seek for it even, opposed to fear it. It changed everything. Laudna's future had been stolen for good. Matilda Bradbury, and all that she could've been was gone, replaced by Laudna- quite literally a dead end, whose cards had alredy been dealt with. But there was something that she could still do with whatever remaining time she had left, and it was to make sure that the woman she loved didn't end up with the same fate as hers. To make sure she got to live, to be happy, she could make sure to give her everything that Laudna herself had never gotten to have. She loved, and loved, and protected, and poured every single ounce of love, care, and affection that she had onto the beautiful woman that held on tight to her hands when in the midst of big crowds, and that hid in between her arms at night when she was too afraid to close her eyes, and she never ever expected to become the object of the woman's affections back, nor to be fused intrinsically with each of her hopes and dreams. The moment that this woman, who she had oathed to spend the rest of her days trying to ensure happiness to, so much as began to utter how much she wanted Laudna- she couldn't but give into it, no questions asked. Because she didn't have to understand each and every detail of what being in love entailed in order to understand that she loved Imogen in every posible way there could ever be.

[ma1dita]

'en route' - i. imaginary friend

pictures are not mine, 3rd is a photo concept by @geloyconcepcion on ig

read along here (will update) : part ii, part iii, part iv

song of the chapter: revolution 0 by boygenius

en route playlist: here

words: 3.9k

summary: pt ¼ of ‘en route’. You and James are kindred spirits. Fighting in the First Wizarding War just seems to be your only escape.

warnings: no use of y/n, religious iconography sprinkled here and there, depictions of loss/war, angst, unhappy(?) marriage, fake marriage, twin flames vibe, they’re just kids they should be at the club bro

a/n: setting the scene is always so hard LOL. i love writing morally grey characters, please feel free to comment if you want to be added onto the taglist, or scream at me <3 thanks for the patience, you won’t have to wait as long for the next part lol

(posted 12/28/23, might come back to edit)

—

END OF MARCH 1980

There’s not a lot of things you like to remember about the year 1980. The memories blur together, highly repressed in a busy corner of your mind, and if someone held you at wandpoint to ask about what happened, you’re not sure where to begin. You don’t talk about it much anymore, but if you did, it wouldn’t be sufficient to put it in a few simple words.

And maybe if you did, the remembering wouldn’t hurt as much. With little physical things to hang onto, however—holding onto this hurt reminds you it was real.

From what you can remember anyway, it all started on his birthday.

You felt eyes on you as soon as you stormed into the room. In this congregation of people trying to save the world, it was easy to feel unseen in your struggles to keep moving forward. A pair of kaleidoscope eyes meet yours for a small moment, and that’s when you knew it was risky. It’s easy to hide in a crowd of Aurors enjoying the reprieve from the reality of the world outside of headquarters’ protected doors, fading into the background.

But he saw you, and that was terrifying–to be perceived.

Frank Longbottom pours you a pint, and you nod your head in thanks, taking a long sip before settling down into a chair at the bar. The same pair of eyes see through you, past your hunched frame, down to the core of your grief. Something about it resonates with him deeply, and the boys notice his attention is away from the conversation they’re having in the living room.

“She's pretty, yeah? French, I think. Never says more than a few words to anyone though, I tried. All business,” Sirius mumbles to his best friend over a glass of firewhiskey.

James looks up at Sirius from his position in the armchair, his head tilted to one side in curiosity at the way you fold into yourself.

"Yeah, I guess," James replies reluctantly. "I've never properly spoken to her, but I can tell she's very... mellow."

“Heard she lost people. The war hasn't been kind to her like it has to a lot of us. Don't know if she'll budge, Prongs. Some pages are best left unturned,” Remus says, shuffling a deck of cards between his scarred fingers. Sirius grunts in response, not caring for the conversation as he takes another sip of his drink.

James knows now what he recognizes within you. Grief has been looming over him too, latched onto his spine, weighing him down as the responsibilities grow by the day. His eyes flicker to his wife’s baby bump as she stands near the window laughing at something Marlene and Peter were acting out. Lily falling pregnant was his sign to get his shit together, because if he didn’t, who would?

Like a shadow, you shy away from the light and laughter that fills the room. But there was no escape once he started walking in your direction. There was no grandiose introduction, no heart-stopping, earth-shattering moment. Both consumed by grief unseen by most, two people sat at the bar in silent reverence of each other’s breathing, daring the other to say something.

“Didn’t know I was crashing your birthday Potter. Seems I don't have a gift,” you say suddenly, words rushing out as your eyes trace his profile.

A beat passes.

His head bobs up and for a second you think you’ve said the wrong thing until you realize he’s smiling. He looks up grinning like the devil, eyes meeting yours with a smile you could only describe as radiant. It stirs something deep within you, and you watch your hands reach toward your butterbeer to avoid his searing gaze.

“Terrible time to have a party anyway. I think it’s more for them than it is for me.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you scoff lightly, and his head jerks towards you as you continue, “You’re a bit too happy for my liking.”

“Oh?” His body turns to follow, knees bumping against yours under the bartop.

“How come you know so much about me then? You don’t give any of us a chance with you.”

James says this jokingly, but a part of it rings true like a punch in the gut. You were so impressionable, left soft and malleable by the grief that became you that you found it quite infuriating that someone like him could be so happy in the middle of a war like this one.

A noise of acknowledgement leaves your throat and he watches your fingers clench around the glass. Too much? Change the subject.

“What’s the ‘T’ necklace you have on?”

The chain swings against your chest as you adjust yourself on the barstool, becoming aware of the weight of it.

“What?”

“What does it mean? Must be important to you, whoever this fellow is. See you wear it every day,” he says adamantly, before backtracking and realizing how stalkerish that sounds.

“Potter, have you never met a Christian?” Your eyes dart between him and his hands on the bartop, more glaringly, the platinum wedding band on his left hand. Surely, anything should be more interesting than conversing with a stranger at his own party.

“A who? Who’s Christian? Are you?”

The beginning of a smile breaks onto your face like daybreak. It’s refreshing, he thinks. He doesn’t think he’s made someone smile like that in a while.

“You idi–,” you exhale, “It’s not… Muggles don’t have magic like us, so they have belief systems. Higher power they believe in. Weren’t you Head Boy at Hogwarts, how did you pass Muggle Studies?”

“Elective. Do you believe in that stuff? God and what not?”

Your calf brushes his pant leg accidentally. Why can’t you stop fidgeting? He makes you nervous, all these questions, and then you blurt your response out in rapid succession that he’s almost unable to catch it.

“No. Maybe. My parents did, and God was important to them, so I wear this necklace because of it. They’re important to me. I used to before I found out I was a witch. Used to pray that God would save me, make me something other than mundane—well, here I am now. Not quite sure if he heard me.”

It hits you that the last time you’ve been able to speak about your parents like this was at their funeral two months back. Right before you joined the Order, and sitting here in front of James suddenly feels stifling. You roll your jacket sleeves up, hyperaware that he’s watching your every move.

He keeps his tone light, but the smile on his face is kind as he mutters, “You think some bloke up top is calling all the shots for everyone?” James says this without judgment and your breath quivers.

“I don’t know, but I think things happen for a reason. I’m still trying to find out what that exactly is.”

His pinky nudges yours on the sticky bartop, and his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose as he tilts his head in thought.

“Did. Is the believing past tense?”

You’re not sure what’s changed in the past few minutes that’s made you comfortable in his presence, but you crack a joke before you think too hard.

“My parents are. Past tense.”

Laughter spills out of you like the bubbles on your refilled pint glass, and James scrunches his face, holding back until his shoulders are shaking from the effort.

“Merlin….yeah. Mine too.”

Oh.

You look at him through your eyelashes, silence filling the space between you two as the rest of the party goes on in the background. James clinks his glass with yours, and there’s a silent understanding that bridges between you, connecting you together.

—

END OF APRIL 1980

“You know if we’re gonna be friends, you should probably call me James.”

The two of you were left sitting in the den to deliberate on the mission you were being sent at the end of this week. Three whole months with James Potter could be a nightmare. But it could also be quite fun, you think, watching him flick through the mission files with a quirk in his lip that can only signal mischief. Signing away your life wouldn’t be so bad if you had him to keep you company. You’d never tell him that though.

“Will we be? You don’t seem that excited.”

“Excited to be shipped away from everyone we know is definitely a statement, love.”

“I’m not eager if that’s what you’re insinuating. Just feel obligated, especially if it helps the cause. That’s why you’re here, right?” Right. In a war like this one, ordinary people like you and him pay the highest price. But nothing seemed ordinary about you, like a complex puzzle he was constantly wracking his brain to figure out. There are aspects of your personality that come to light the more he talks to you over these past few weeks, almost luring him in so he can unveil the secrets you hold. Why do you put yourself on the front lines like this, mission after mission? Who do you have in your life that makes you want to fight against the odds? What do you think of to keep you going? Why can’t he stop thinking about you?

He blinks, before looking at you, “S’not that I don’t want to go with you, and do my duty, I just…”

“You love it. I can see it in your eyes, you were trouble at school, weren’t you?” James’ smile gets wider, thinking back to the last few years, before everything went to shit. Back when it was easier, just him and his three friends, and his biggest worry was getting Lily Evans to look at him.

“Just a lot to worry about. People to take care of.” His mind falls back to his wife sitting at home, probably wondering why he isn’t back from the Order meeting, getting more agitated by the minute. He thinks of the nursery he still needs to set up, and the legal affairs he’s left behind after his parents’ death. He thinks of checking in on his boys, who barely know how to take care of themselves if they don’t come over for dinner, and finally, he exhales.

“You?“

It’s an honest question, and by asking it, he extends himself to you, an insight into the burdens he carries with him daily. The difficulty and complexity of having a large capacity to love is carrying the weight until you cannot.

“Just me and my rucksack. Gives me something to do.” You give him a tight-lipped smile, busying yourself with packing the supplies Dumbledore gave you two earlier. Vials of Polyjuice Potion, two golden wedding bands, magically enhanced IDs— it was like playing pretend. That’s all this has to be. Easy enough.

James looks at you and understands a bit more. You need this job. And if he’s being honest, so does he.

“I still wonder what would happen if it doesn’t work out, don’t get me wrong. But then I think, what if it does? What if no one else has to die?” A noise of agreement rises from his throat as he straightens his posture on the couch.

War shouldn’t be an escape, much less a distraction to two people grieving. There are countless muggles and wizards alike losing their lives to a genocide of people undeserving of a fate dictated by a person who plays god. But when you’re fighting for your life before you can even legally drink in some countries, there are two things left to consider when making a decision: to choose something difficult or to choose wrong.

And neither of you have ever found anything easy. Not in this life at least.

He sighs. James really needs to get home.

“Well…We will be friends by the end of this. I’m sure. Already gonna be married to you anyways,” he jokes.

“Don’t get used to it, what a pity that would be for your ego,” you gripe, but a trace of amusement is present on your lips as you watch him stand up to leave.

“We’ll see about that, love.”

He apparates home. Onto the next difficult thing.

When James told Lily that he’d be on a mission for the latter half of her pregnancy, she didn’t take it well. But to be honest, with everything going on, James couldn’t help but feel exasperated. How bad is his marriage that he’d rather risk his life instead of tending to his family’s needs? James sits at the dining table listening to her yell, and he feels extra heavy today, wondering how he feels so ancient at 20 years old.

Years ago he dreamed of this, a wife, kids, a pretty townhouse. But this isn’t what he quite imagined. He looks at his wife as she paces around the room, hand on her bump, red hair spreading little fires as she goes. She’s his everything. Truly. He spent years trying to even find that spark in her, dedicated his life to her, and gave up everything to take care of her—but she struggled a lot these past few months. Her pregnancy brought on incendiary words falling upon him like lashes as she blamed him for moving too quickly. Blamed him for the fact they’ve felt like strangers in this little house. But with his parents both sick, getting married seemed like the next right thing.

An owl flits to his kitchen window once Lily storms out again, leaving nothing but ashes of her disappointment in her wake. Ashes, ashes… James wonders where his spark has gone. He hates to disappoint.

Just wanted to owl and check in. I found myself thinking about you and wanted to make sure you’re okay, with everything changing so quickly. Hope you and your wife figure it out, I’ll be on the 11 AM Knight Bus tomorrow outside Diagon Alley regardless. See you.

He thinks of you, so brave and filled with a spark he used to recognize within himself. This isn’t wrong, he reasons, just difficult. But he won’t admit that taking his wedding band off before settling onto the couch was easier than he thought it would be. He feels lighter. As he takes off his glasses and stares at the ceiling of his living room that night, James wonders how much longer he can ignore his problems by not looking at them properly. How much longer does he have to carry the weight? When will someone help him carry the load?

For now, he tries to sleep. One step at a time, James. Like always. There’s a mission he has to start tomorrow. And he doesn’t want to disappoint you.

—

You’re not surprised when he turns up to your meeting point the next morning, not addressing him when you stick your wand hand out to summon the bus. He bites back a smile, knowing you were right and thinking you see right through him. Now look who’s the eager one.

After paying eleven sickles each, you lead him to a window seat, ignoring the babbles of other passengers as you look out the window.

“You ever think about all these people, with their little lives and everything they have to do?” you pipe up, head against the glass. James scoffs, “I always think about other people. Sometimes I wonder if anyone thinks of me like that. If anyone worries as you do over strangers.”

“I thought we were friends,” you say coyly, still not looking at him, and his heart skips a beat. Probably nerves. “You think Dumbledore cares that he’s sending off two teenagers to fight a war and save the wizarding world?”

“I’m an adult, thank you very much.”

“We’re kids, James,” You look at him, and he blinks at the sound of his given name falling from your lips that he almost loses the next part of your sentence, “we’re kids working towards a bigger picture of world peace. Isn’t that fucking insane that this what our lives amount to?”

He couldn’t agree more, but his forehead creases at your tone.

“Why do you act like your best years are behind you? There’s a lot to live for still,” he murmurs knowingly.

He pats your thigh and the only thing you notice is the tan of his hand against his missing wedding band. Soon it will be replaced by one that binds him to you, temporarily, but it’s jarring all the same. You shake off the uneasy feeling that rises in your stomach.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

James is doing that thing again, the whole savior complex bit that you notice is one and the same with his trying hard to be carefree personality. But you’re coming to learn that James cares. A lot.

—

“Apartment 11B?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Two swigs of Polyjuice Potion did the job once you stepped off the bus and walked through town to the place you’ll inhabit for a fourth of the year, and quickly, you both become unrecognizable to even each other. A blonde eyebrow looks at you under James’ glasses at your hesitation, so you clear your throat.

“For Mr. and Mrs. Fawley. We just got married, you see. Newlywed jitters.” His voice is lighter and more posh as his hand reaches out to rest on your shoulder.

“Hmm, yes. Harry—er…Henrietta and Draco–” the receptionist squints at her paper, and you sigh at how pretentious the names sound together. Not in this life. You ought to wring Alice’s neck. That girl loves to make stories, and the more frilly your personas she created, the more difficult it’ll be to upkeep.

“No need, Etta and Drake are fine, love,” you say with a more confident grin, leaning against your faux husband.

The keys slide across the countertop, and you walk to the elevator, hand in hand until you’re out of sight. As you approach the door, James crouches a bit and puts his hands on his knees.

“What are you doing?”

“Jump up. Gotta carry you over the threshold.”

“Shut up, Drake,” reminding yourself to use his false name in case someone’s watching, but he looks at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Exactly. Just in case. Come on, just indulge me.” You shake your head in disbelief but hop onto his back all the same. Not exactly traditional, but it stirs up a feeling in you that you haven’t felt before. He carries you through the doorway and spins you once, twice, three times before you squeal and he giggles, placing you gently onto the sofa. It’s a cozy apartment with enough space for the two of you, cream walls, and a small kitchen with an island overlooking the entertaining space. The hallway leads to what you presume is the only bedroom, and there’s a nervous energy that sifts through the air as you both place protective charms everywhere, to ward off prying eyes and ears. How intimate. James falls back onto the sofa with a huff, sitting next to you, and both of you are unsure of what to say.

“I can take the sofa,” he says into the silence, and you turn to look at him incredulously.

‘For three months? James, I can't ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

“You’re gonna be hunched over by the end of the week. What if we rotate?”

There’s no disagreement, feeling the springs in the cushion beneath your bottoms already. James perks up, leaning over to grab something from his bag, and by the time he leans back up, he looks like himself again, the small dose of Polyjuice wearing off. You can feel your hair go back to its original shade and texture, and he smiles wider when he sees your face.

“Look what I got. Remus gave it to me back at Hogwarts but I never really used up all the film. Thought we could take some pictures and look back on this one day.” It’s sweet, how he loves his friends like they’re an extension of himself. You reckon you don't have anyone like that, smiling at him fumbling with the tiny camera in his hands.

“It’ll take a while to develop. Gotta keep it safe if we’re making it out of this,” you say, taking it from him and throwing yourself back onto the backrest leaning against him to point and shoot one of yourselves in this moment, disheveled and domestic. The flash goes off and he looks like a deer in headlights, making you cackle.

“You miss them?” He’s not sure who you’re referring to, so he rattles on anyway. He loves talking about the people he loves.

“The boys…Just miss being kids at Hogwarts, y’know? The end of the world back then was not getting enough O’s on NEWTs. You?”

“Mhm. None of them are in Britain though. They came for my parents’ funeral, and they always say they’ll visit but…That’s my fault too, I guess.” You tuck your leg underneath you, turning to face him, and he’s cuddled up against a throw pillow.

“Your parents were awesome. Didn’t know them well besides your dad being in the Order and stuff, but they were really brave. Your mom hugged me at my parents’ burial and I think that was the first time I let myself cry after they died. That’s one of the few things I remember from that day.”

A breath of air escapes your lungs at his anecdote. It’s been a few months since they passed but you’ll never stop missing them.

“I don’t remember a lot from theirs either. It’s all kind of been a blur since. I think I remember you and Sirius smoking in the back and him offering me a cigarette.” He laughs silently at the memory of his best friend.

“No one ever talks about how much there is to do after your parents die,” he says, and you roar with agreement.

“Yes! I’m still battling out their assets in court! It’s difficult to live life alone, thinking they’ve set you up for the future, but feeling like a rug’s been pulled out from underneath you. I just wish…They left this world together, y’know? And that’s great, but sometimes I feel selfish wondering what will happen to me.”

James nods slowly, taking your words in. He’s never had anyone to talk about this with, people pitying him instead, or acting like it didn’t matter, but it’s been almost a year and he can’t go to bed without thinking about how his parents died a week apart because even in death, they couldn’t be away for long. James wonders if you’ve noticed that he hasn’t talked about missing his wife, and the selfishness you mentioned prods at him. He smiles grimly, and takes the ring box from your bag, asking for your hand.

“Hey. You’re never gonna be alone again, alright? Not if it’s up to me.”

You roll your eyes as he flips the cover open, revealing the two gold bands, yours with a sizable diamond in the center.

“Do you think I’d give you that much power over me, James? This is all fake.”

“Fake marriage, but a true promise. I think you might, eventually.”

He slides the ring onto your left ring finger, sealing it with a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

—

“The first time you caught my eye it was not love at first sight. Instead, a quiet curiosity was planted in my chest and I knew it was only a matter of time before you sunk beneath my bones and nurtured this deep-seated familiarity into a love so fierce that I would question if I had ever been in love before.” - Lyra Wren

general taglist: @jsjcue

en route taglist: @xcinnamonmalfoyx @babyclea @idkman5335 @timhalamet @ttulipwritezz @lilylovesu @thatonedogwithablog @lovemerigt

[f444keitflowers]

Yellowjackets characters as Boygenius songs !!

Taissa Turner - Souviner

Always managed to move in / right next to the cemeteries / and never far from hospitals / I don't know what that tells you about me / pulling thorns out of my palm / working midnight surgery / when I cut a hole into my skull / do you hate what you see? / like I do.

Vanessa Plamer - Emily i’m sorry

Headed straight for the concrete / in a nightmare / screaming / now i’m wide awake /spiralling / and you dont wanna talk / just take me back to montreal / i’ll get a real job / you’ll go back to school / we can burn out / in the freezing cold / and just get lost / Emily i’m sorry baby / you know how I get / when i’m wrong / and I can feel myself becoming somebody i’m not / I’m not sorry

Jackie taylor - Cool about it

I came prepared for absolution / if you’d only ask / so I take some offense when you say “no regrets” / […] / once I took your medication / to know what it’s like / and now I have to act like/ I cant read your mind / I ask you how you’re doing / and I let you lie / but we dont have to talk about it / I can walk you home / and practice method acting / i’ll pretend being with you doesn’t feel like drowning / telling you it’s nice to see / how good you’re doing / even though we know / it isn’t true.

Shauna Shipman - Letter to an old poet

I said "I think that you're special" / you told me once that I'm selfish / and I kissed you hard / in the dark / in the closet / […] / you don't know me / I wanna be happy / I'm ready / to walk into my room / without looking for you / I'll go up to the top of our building / and remember my dog / when I see the full moon / I can't feel it yet / but I am waiting

Lottie Matthews - Not strong enough

Always an angel / never a god / always an angel / never a god / I don't know why I am / the way I am / There's something in the static / I think I've been having / revelations / Coming to / in the front seat / nearly empty / Skip the exit / to our old street and go home / Go home alone

Laura Lee - Without you without them

give me everything you’ve got / i’ll take what I can get / I want to hear your story / and be a part of it / thank your father before you / his mother before him / who would I be without you without them? / speak to me / until your histories / no mystery to me.

Natalie Scatorccio - Revolution 0

If it isn't love / then what the fuck is it? / I guess just let me pretend / I don't want to die / That's a lie / But I'm afraid to get sick / I don't know what that is / You wanted a song / So it's gonna be a short one / Wish I wasn't so tired / But I'm tired / If you're not enough / Then I give up/ and then nothing is / I used to think if I just closed my eyes / I would disappear.

Misty Quigley - Stay Down

I wasn’t a fighter til somebody told me i’d better learn / to lean into the punch / so it don’t hurt as bad / when they leave / there you were / turning my cheek / i look at you / and you look at a screen / i’m in the backseat of my body / i’m just steering my life / in a video game / similar accent / a different name / it’s a slow down / so would you teach me im the villain / aren’t I / aren’t I the one / constantly repenting for a difficult mind

[clandestone]

[ florence pugh, cisfemale, she/her ] — whoa! LOUISE DELANEY just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for 9 YEARS, working as an ARCHIVIST. that can’t be easy, especially at only 27 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit GUARDED and CYNICAL, but i know them to be WITTY and LOYAL. whatever. i guess i’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to THE BRONX! 

the basics

Name: louise delaney Aliases: louie, delaney Borough: the bronx Gender/Pronouns: cisfemale, she/her Sexual/Romantic Orientation: bisexual/biromantic Age: 27 Occupation: archivist at the new york historical society Faceclaim: florence pugh Marital Status: single Pets: a black cat named king arthur, adopted from the local human society

aesthetics

Inspiration: henry detamble (time traveler’s wife), marianne sheridan (normal people), princess fiona (shrek), dana scully (the x-files), wanda (the mcu), bella swan (twilight), belle (beauty and the beast), louise (arrival) Animal: mourning dove Tarot Card: the chariot Zodiac: gemini Element: air Song: Revolution 0 - boygenius 

the essentials: Louise is a workaholic, but she’s working on it. It’s hard for her to let people in, and it isn’t uncommon for her to keep even her closest friends at arms length. Her guarded nature can come across as a bit bitchy, but it's not her intention, and once you get to know her, she’s really quite soft. When she’s not working, you can find her swimming laps at the local gym, taking herself on dates to new cafes, or sitting in the corner of a smokey jazz bar, sipping on whiskey.

backstory: parent death tw Much of Louise’s adult life has been spent reconciling the dreamy, sun-dappled memories of her childhood with the chaos and instability of her adolescence, and trying to find some peace in a life that exists between the two. The way her childhood ended wasn’t anyone’s fault, and there wasn't anything anyone could do to make it any easier, it was just an inevitable part of her story.  Her life began in the simplest, All-American, suburban way. Hot dogs and ice cream on the Fourth of July, soccer practice after school, riding bikes with her friends on her quiet street until the streetlights turned on. Her father was an artist, and the studio in his garage was always brimming with music and whatever painting, sculpture, or pottery work he’d dreamed up. Her mother was a high-level executive in Boston, and while her work demanded long hours and short stints away from home, the love for her daughter was so overwhelming that it bridged the absence. It was a simple childhood, devoid of strain or worry and marked only by the love surrounding her.  A tragic accident took her mother away, flinging Louise and her father into the unknown. No longer able to afford their comfortable life in the suburbs without her mother’s hefty income, the two moved to a small, shoebox apartment in a small town. They survived for a time on the life insurance money, but when it ran out, they began to struggle. Her father was a stubborn man, unwilling to accept that his lifestyle as an artist was entirely dependent on his late wife’s income, and he made a living selling what little art he could and painting houses.  Louise struggled with the move and the loss of her mother. Her father was eclectic and misunderstood by the community, and many of the kids at her new school were warned by their parents to keep a wide berth from the Delaneys. After a few months, she managed to make a few close friends, but all she wanted to do was keep her head down until she could go out on her own.  She was studious and intelligent, and when the time came to graduate, she was top of her class. With her academic record, some local scholarships, loans, and the small pile of money her mother had begun to put away for her education, she was able to leave her small town and attend Columbia University. New York was a new beginning, and god did it feel good. She excelled, made a small, but close circle of friends, and fully came into her own. After she graduated, she took a scholarship for an MA in public history and archival studies at NYU, and eventually took a job at the New York Historical Society as an archivist.  For the last three years, Louise has kept her head down and worked incredibly hard, taking any and all opportunities. Her dreams are big, and she has high hopes for her future. Communication with her father is strained, and while she worries about him and occasionally sends him money, she can’t bring herself to return home for a visit. Her past is a touchy subject, and few people are welcomed into that part of her history.  Louise was recently promoted and has begun to look at other factions of her life. While she was busy in the archives, she began to neglect parts of her life that were previously important to her. Her friendships were weak, and she had absolutely no love life to speak of. The dust had begun to settle on the hobbies she once loved, and even it felt like the dust had started to settle on her. Louise is trying to start again, and make a life that feels whole, balanced, and happy. 

[ganseysglasses]

I’ve had boygenius brain rot since The Record was released so let me tell you what song goes to which of the raven cycle characters.

Starting with the obvious, Ronan is SO revolution 0 are you kidding?? “i don’t wanna die / that’s a lie / but i’m afraid to get sick / i don’t know what that is” so so so Ronan. ALSO “i used to think if i just closed my eyes / i would disappear” ?? enough said. revolution 0 is questioning the world you’re in and your purpose in it and if that isn’t the epitome of Ronan Lynch idk what it.

Adam is definitely Letter To An Old Poet to me. This was a really hard choice because Adam Parrish is incredibly boygenius coded but i have evidence. “you’re not special, you’re evil / you don’t get to tell me to calm down / you made me feel like an equal / but i’m better than you / and you should know that by now” it’s Adam Parrish learning who he is and that he’s more than his background, more than what he’s been told he is by his father, the other students at aglionby, and even himself. Letter To An Old Poet makes me feel like reflecting on what used to be and realizing how much time has changed everything around me. That’s just so Adam!!

I’m not SUPER confident on this one, but Noah is Anti-Curse. First of all, Noah Czerny just seems like a Julien Baker fan idk. Also kind of obvious text evidence “making peace with my inevitable death.” now i KNOW that could also be Gansey, but hear me out. Noah knew from the beginning that he was going to be gone and leave his friends over and over again (poor guy :( ) and he still MOURNED and resisted his inevitable undoing. I feel like Gansey didn’t even actually come to terms with his death. All of the Raven King was spent searching for a solution, and even though Gansey had proof he would die, he didn’t quit searching for a solution. Noah on the other hand embodies Anti-Curse and the theme of making peace with where you are. It’s really heartbreaking honesty.

Gansey boy himself is OBVIOUSLY True Blue. I have authority on this because i AM Gansey. He’s me. Anyways, i realized Gansey was true blue when i heard the line “but it feels good to be known so well / i can’t hide from you like i hide from myself” which is also when i had the idea for this post (before taking many weeks to write it out). Additionally just think about Gansey’s relationship with his friends with this verse “you’ve never done me wrong except for that one time / that we don’t talk about / because it doesn’t matter anymore / who won the fight? / I don’t know” Gansey being so willing to do anything for his friends, and ignore any fights or disagreements just to get them to stay. True Blue embodies the longing to be seen. to be known and understood and loved in despite of people seeing. And that’s a very clear character trait of Gansey’s throughout the books.

Finally, Blue Sargent herself. She’s Satanist, which i feel might be a bit of an obvious choice but it fits. Blue makes it known where she stands on everything, is very independent, and has a lot to prove, which really suits this song. The verse “will you be an anarchist with me? / sleep in cars and kill the bourgeoisie / at least until you find out what a fake i am” says it best. Blue is so desperate to be sure of herself and achieve what she wants, but there’s so much she’s not sure of. (her principles after finding her raven boys, college, careers, their quest, etc) Satanist is a song that takes a stand so confidently while having no real intention of acting upon the decisions made. Not because it doesn’t believe in the decisions or the principles behind it, but because it doesn’t believe in itself.

Anyways that’s my interpretation of the raven cycle with special guests Boygenius!

[scheodingers-muppet]

doing a twist on my taylor swift album series and doing the record by boygenius as stranger things characters and ships 🫡

without you without them: jopper. while their past isnt a pretty one, they were able to reconnect and have a functional relationship due to those moments and the fact that these people shaped them into who they are

$20: ronance. they both tend to self destruct; nancy with picking fights and pushing people away and robin with her lack of confidence and selling herself short. i can totally see them just wanting to get out of hawkins and going wherever. i also love the comparison of the flower in the shotgun with them

emily i’m sorry: hopper to el, trying to piece their life back together after everything. “she called me a fucking liar” parallel with “friends don’t lie” “i can feel myself becoming someone only you could want” “i’ll get a real job, you can go back to school”

true blue: steddie. specifically steve about eddie. “you say you’re a winter bitch but summers in your blood” is so eddie the second verse being about eddie and the band moving to chicago to try and make it big. verse 3 is after steve moves up there and they get a place together. “you’ve never done me wrong except for that one time” *cough cough demobats* the chorus is really true to me. “i can’t hide from you like i hide from myself” and eddie being the first person we see acknowledge how much steve has changed, something that steve seems hard to believe

cool about it: the party with max between season 3 and 4. specifically, lucas first, then dustin, then mike. lucas trying to distract her to keep her mind off things, wishing max would either just talk to him but pretending that he’s okay with not talking to her. dustin trying to solve the problem, even though he can’t. he’s worried about her and doesn’t know what to do for once. mike struggling himself but knowing she wants distance from the party so he’s “pretending like he can’t read her mind,” not pushing her to talk.

not strong enough: el, mike, and will. “every clocks a different time. it would only take the energy to fix it” el doesn’t know why she’s so powerful. she doesn’t feel strong enough to win. she’s lost so much and while she’ll keep fighting, she felt so weak for so long. “do you see us getting scraped up off the pavement” mike feels like he’s destined to crumble, not knowing what he did to deserve it. “there’s something in the static, i think i’ve been having revelations” is VERY will. his “i don’t know why i am the way i am” being in reference to him being gay. the three of them always being the angels, never the gods

revolution 0: nancy. “imaginary friend” being reminiscing on her friendship with barb. i hc she knows piano and love the idea that barb taught her. “if this isn’t love then what the fuck is it” being about either steve/jonathan and trying to convince herself, or even barb/robin.

leonard cohen: steddie! eddie making steve listen to a song and ends up in the wrong direction. “i never thought you’d happen to me” about both. steve feeling so loved in a relationship, eddie being so comfortable in one.

satanist: eddie, robin, and steve. eddie is the satanist. “trying to score some off brand ecstasy” fits super well too. robin is the anarchist (i miss alternative robin from season 3) her lack of confidence pairs with “at least until you find out what a fake i am” steve being the nihilist. “if nothing can be known, than stupidity is holy” and the fact steve feels like an idiot

we’re in love: jopper. “will you still love me if it turns out i’m insane?” joyce was known as a bit of the town loon. i’d imagine she worries a lot about these rumors. “some october in the future…i’ll be feeling lonely” everything started in october; that fall hopper was gone was most likely very very hard for joyce. then a switch to hopper cause “if you rewrite your life, can i still play a part in it?” about understanding joyce needs a change to get away from all the trauma but wanting to be with her still. “i’ll be the boy…who looks like hell and asks for help. and if you do, i’ll know it’s you” hop knows joyce will always help him; she proved it with helping him in russia. “there’s something about you that i will always recognize”

anti-curse: eddie. “i never listened, had to see for myself” “making peace with my inevitable death” “tried to be a halfway decent friend, would up a bad comedian” “an honest fool with more bad habits than you can count” it’s very eddie coded

letter to an old poet: el with one/vecna. i think she really did used to love him. i think she still remembers the person who tried to help make her feel less alone. “you’re not special, you’re evil” “you made me feel like an equal, but i’m better than you and you should know that by now” “i wanna be happy”

[snowdropheart]

the record by boygenius

(bonus! canada needs you vol. 2 by mike ford)

Hello!! Thank u Fee ily <3

The Record

My favourite lyric:

It's a tie between "I wanna be happy / I'm ready to walk into my room without looking for you / I'll go up to the top of our building / and remember my dog when I see the full moon" from Letter to an Old Poet and "You've never done me wrong / except for that one time / that we don't talk about / because it doesn't matter anymore" from True Blue

My favourite song:

Not Strong Enough and Letter to an Old Poet, but I also really really love Without You Without Them

The song that makes you cry:

We're in Love and Letter to an Old Poet. I really love Letter to an Old Poet, okay?

The song that's a fucking bop:

Satanist is such a banger it's insane

The song that i most dislike/least love:

What an impossible question. I guess I'd have to say Revolution 0

Bonus: Canada Needs You Vol 2

My favourite lyric:

Hmm maybe "See the German Boy, your age your rank / Your face his face, his eyes your eyes" from Creeping Barrage

My favourite song:

It's a a three-way tie between The Giants (Clayoquot Trials), In Winnipeg, and Tea Party, but who can choose. Who can truly choose a favourite on this masterpiece of an album

The song that makes you cry:

It is impossible to listen to Canada Doesn't Need You without crying, oh my god. When the drums come in, I'm gone.

The song that's a fucking bop:

Tea Party, no question

The song that i most dislike/least love:

Probably Maurice Richard