#there’s no room for love in amongst the melancholia and introspection

[steinwayandhissons]

arctic monkeys and every time the word ‘love’ is mentioned

whatever people say I am that’s what I’m not

tonight there’ll be some love, tonight there’ll be a ruckus yeah regardless of what’s gone before

~ view from the afternoon

oh there ain’t no love, no montagues or capulets

~ i bet you look good on the dancefloor

all that’s left is the proof that love’s not only blind but deaf… yeah I’d love to tell you all my problem

~ fake tales of san francisco

she makes a subtle proposition, I’m sorry love I’ll have to turn you down

~ when the sun goes down

lady, where has your love gone, i was looking but can’t find it anywhere, they always offer when there’s loads of love around but when you’re short of some it’s nowhere to be found

~ no buses

well how can you wake up with someone you don’t love and not feel slightly phased by it

~ leave before the lights come on

favourite worst nightmare

it’s wrong wrong wrong but we’ll do it anyway cause we love a bit of trouble

~ balaclava

and those dreams weren’t as daft as they seem, aren’t as daft as they seem my love

~ fluorescent adolescent

there’s room for the trouble and there’s lovers to be had

~ this house is a circus

it’d be a big mistake for you to wait and let me waste your time, really love it’s fine, I said really love it’s fine

~ the bad thing

old yellow bricks, love’s a risk… houdini love you don’t know what you’re running away from

~ old yellow bricks

another roll around and another push and shove, further away from the idea of love

~ da frame 2r

the more you keep on looking the more it’s hard to take, love we’re in stalemate… you’re slacking love where have you been

~ the bakery

am I too quick to assume that the love is no longer in bloom

~ too much to ask

humbug

i had a hole in the pocket of my favourite coat and my love dropped into the lining

~ i haven’t got my strange

suck it and see

i wanna feel your love brick by brick

~ brick by brick

do you still feel love is a laserquest or do you take it all more seriously… when I’m not being honest I pretend that you were just some lover

~ love is a laserquest

your love is like a studded leather headlock

~ suck it and see

jealousy in technicolour, fear by name, love by numbers… crushing up a bundle of love

~ that’s where you’re wrong

before she showed you how to shake love’s steady hand

~ the blonde o sonic shimmer trap

your love’s not what I need, so don’t give it to me

~ evil twin

am

it’s not like I’m falling in love I just want you to do me no good… the look of love, the rush of blood

~ no.1 party anthem

love buckles under the strain of those wild nights

~ mad sounds

I heard that you fell in love, or near enough

~ snap out of it

love like locked horns, love like dominoes… love like thunder, love like falling snow

~ electricity

I know you’re nothing like mine cause she’s walking on sunshine and your love would tear us apart

~ you’re so dark

tranquility base hotel and casino

love came in a bottle with a twist off cap, let’s all have a swig and do a hot lap… but it’s alright, cause you love me

~ star treatment

when true love takes a grip it leaves you without a choice

~ golden trunks

pattern language in the mood for love

~ the world’s first ever monster truck front flip

I wanna stay with you my love, the way some science fiction does

~ science fiction

the dawn won’t stop weighing a tonne, I’ve done some things that I shouldn’t have done, but I haven’t stopped loving you once

~ the ultracheese

the car

lights out on the wonder park, your saw toothed lover boy was quick off the mark

~ jet skis on the moat

put your heavy metal to the test, there might be half a love song in it all for you

~ mr schwartz

#arctic monkeys #alex turner #listen this was purely out of curiosity #there are so many poetic and imaginative ways in which alex describes love #i just wanted a tangible record of every time he just straight up uses the word #i was surprised that humbug only had one mention and even that was a b side but when i was making this i realised that it was such a #lyrically dense and innovative album and descriptions of love were more elaborate and straightforward #*less straightforward #(might make a separate post about that) #also found that the other albums were quite consistent except the car #i found it interesting that most of the songs aren’t actually about the same kind of love like the earlier albums were #the earlier ones use love as a nickname and portray the physical embodiment of being in love #and even in tbhc it describes this feeling despite there being slightly fewer mentions #but the car seems more like a goodbye album… not even about breaking up… just goodbye which is very…. #there’s no room for love in amongst the melancholia and introspection #and makes me wonder about his relationship with love at the moment #it seems very disassociated and immaterial like he has no interest in spouting poetics about love like he did before #and i hope he can rebuild that relationship #i could probably say more but im not going to bc this is getting way too long #cheers if you actually read this whole fucking essay #i spent way too long on this if you cant tell

[zgvlt]

i blow out the candles in front of my wish leona kingscholar x reader

summary: your birthday greeting stuns him

author's note: the shortest fic i have ever written, but i still put my heart (and love for leona) into this. it's still his birthday in some timezone out there so i dare say i'm not late. happy birthday to the best man <3

tags: gender-neutral reader, sfw, fluff, some introspection, very light angst, established relationship, 1.3k+ words, not beta read

[repost attempt #1 since it's not appearing in the tags]

“Thank you for being born.”

Leona is twenty-one the first time he hears those words. It’s softly murmured in his ear, almost as if you had not wanted anyone to hear, as if the words were reserved for him and him alone, as if anything louder would signal everyone awake and disturb his room’s sanctity. Perhaps that was your intention—the need to be quiet not forgotten in your determination to be the one who greets him first and foremost.

Even your entrance into his room is near silent, and any quieter would have rendered your sudden appearance an apparition. You waltz in with the heels of your feet raised, walk with the tips of your toes, like you fear waking him. It is a reasonable fear to have—after all, it is said that to wake a sleeping lion would be to get your head bitten off—but all the same it is a fear that would not come to fruition, for on the bed laid no sleeping lion.

It is said that people never sleep well the night of their birthdays. He has always been the prime example.

Leona, as of late, is a creature haunted by the sin of sloth, a state not only of the mind but through the manifestation of slumber; yet tonight he lies, the irony of his idleness being that which keeps him awake. At times, his indolence extended to his thoughts—even to think was a tiring affair, one encouraging melancholia to creep up and consume him—and although Leona knows to shatter them to dust, there are times when he… invites them in.

No, not quite invite—Leona was not the type to welcome something so pitiful into his life. Rather, it would be more accurate to say he allowed them to fester, not quite to invade but to share his space. 

Him and his thoughts. They always reunite the same night, every year. They converse amongst themselves and Leona listens, passive and uninterested. Bored, even, with how repetitive and predictable they have gotten—and yet despite it all he listens, and it is because he is busy listening to them that he very nearly fails to hear you, you and your insistence to be quiet.

However, the quiet does not stop him from being startled; while you might have thought you had woken him, as evidenced by the flurry of uncomposed and yet mindfully gentle apologies spewing from your mouth, the truth would tell that it was your unusual greeting that jolted him upright, has him stunned at the admission. 

A surprise he anticipated, a surprise he’d been given.

“Oi… herbivore, repeat that again.”

You take the time to look at your phone, frowning at how time’s already passed a minute from midnight, and though the light comes flashing quick the action is just slow enough to recognize the photo you’ve set as your lock screen.

“I don’t know if it has the same effect twice,” you sigh like you’re voicing a complaint, but Leona knows you’ll say it once more, carrying the same feelings as the first time. 

“Thank you for being born, Leona.”

You say it like a secret, though your feelings hardly are.

“Well?”

“Well,” he begins, and speaks only to let you know your efforts have not been wasted, “the effect is the same the second time.”

The statement is just as ridiculous as the first time, he had planned to say, yet when he tried to voice it out his lips closed shut, as if his body knew it would be a bad idea, as though it knew it would not be the truth. Ridiculous would not be the right word, although he did want to laugh hearing it the first time. If he had to describe it…

Leona closes his eyes, but this time you know he has no plans on sleeping. Instead, you allow him to steep in the silence, as if to let him analyze each and every word you utter, from weight to worth.

Is the day of his birth worth being celebrated? His family—that overly kind brother of his, his pesky sister-in-law, his nephew who cannot get enough of his attention—he gets why they would want to celebrate, although he thinks they’re always going off the rails with their presents, but to an outsider? 

Even then, Leona at least understands why he is celebrated anyway, both from a national perspective and from that of the Savanaclaw dorm members. Worth differs from want, but there is nothing wrong with wanting to celebrate someone with a degree of importance. A celebration is something even he can appreciate—thoughtful presents and fine intentions, all for him—but it is something everyone can benefit from. To have a happy birthday is an excuse to fool around, not just for him but for all who come.

Like how it is different to be of worth and to want, it is different to be happy and to be thankful. Happiness is a result, an infectious one, and gratitude… it is to recognize, acknowledge, and appreciate—in this case, to go through all three stages with him.

You spoke as if you were beholden to his parents for having given life to someone like him, as if you were grateful to life itself for putting the both of you on the same plane of existence.

With his eyes still closed he reaches for your hand, and it takes not even a few seconds for him to grab onto it—no need to search when it is you who finishes the motion, realizing what he was looking for was you.

“I’m still here.”

He knows—he would have sensed it if you left, though he did not think you would.

You know not to leave his side, instead choosing to sit at the edge of the mattress—perhaps for permission to join him, or more likely because you knew once he dragged you down with him that was it for you. The students of Savanaclaw will come to wake him in the morning to take him to his own party, only to see someone else had taken residence beside him the eve of.

“Herbivore.” Leona does not always call you that, a nickname that had never been reserved exclusively for you, has always been more for fleeting instances of teasing, of spite, but tonight he says it to distance himself, to mask not his affections, but the extent of it. 

His eyes remain closed, too, for he knows you would see how such a simple greeting had made him feel. You would take one look and see how he had built a cave in his heart, hollowed it in your shape, so when you laid down upon it your figure would be encompassed by his valves and his veins.

“Tch. Sometimes, I…” 

Wish I had met you sooner.

Wish I could understand what goes on in that beautiful mind of yours.

Wish everyone saw me like you see me.

Wish I saw me like you see me.

“...wish I understood what exactly you think of me.”

He can feel your breath nearing him again. Leona dislikes the warmth, the unpleasant reminiscence of restrictiveness, but he welcomes that which emanates from you. He welcomes it so that he very nearly opens his eyes, only choosing to keep it shut when you whisper once more.

“Then, for the next three hundred and sixty-four days, I’ll have to make you understand,” you promise, before moving your mouth to press your lips against his cheek, “and on the three hundred and sixty-fifth, you will believe it as much as me.”

He understands how it’s not just a promise, but an oath made before him, where he is the recipient and the witness.

“You really do have guts, making such bold promises like that.”

He finally opens his eyes and thinks he may already be starting to believe it.

my other leona fic

masterlist

#leona kingscholar x reader #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland x reader #nathya twst writing #pls work tags i want to go to sleep hjsjsjsd