#in a week by hozier

[notsofriendlyfriendlyreminder]

My brain is consumed by Hozier so

Red dead redemption connected with In a week by Hozier feat Karen Cowley (warning this might seem not at all logical to you, that's ok, I just need to write it down so I don't explode)

I have never known peace Like the damp grass that yields to me

We are arriving away from Colter, the damp grass of New Hanover, the forests, we might be at peace

I have never known hunger Like these insects that feast on me

The Pinkertons are still there, the gang is not safe

A thousand teeth And yours among them

Dutch feels like the gang is not believing in him, Hosea included ALSO Arthur knowing he is not a good man, Mary being a walking reminder

Our hungers appeased Our heartbeats becoming slow

The gang is still robbing, but they are not always succesfull.

We lay here for years or for hours Thrown here or found, to freeze or to thaw

All members are alive at this point, but they know this life isn't forever. (to freeze or to thaw - running away from Colter, but even here is not safe)

So long, we'd become the flowers

Happy memories, the gang celebrating through the bad

Two corpses we were, two corpses I saw,

They keep running away and they are making more and more mistakes (two corpses - Sean and Kieran)

And they'd find us in a week When the weather gets hot

The failed robbery in Saint Denis, ending up in Guarma

After the insects have made their claim

Fighting in Guarma

I'd be home with you

Arthur loosing Lenny

I'd be home with you

Dutch loosing Hosea

I have never known sleep Like this slumber, that creeps to me

Flashback to Abigail and Jack being together again, her realising more and more this is too dangerous for her, pressuring John

I have never know colour Like this morning reveals to me

Sadie's house burning down, her changing through the chapters.

And you haven't moved an inch Such that I would not know

Mary and Arthur meeting again, Mary leaving one last time, Arthur staying there (Oh Arthur you'll never change)

If you sleep always like this The flesh calmly going cold

Susan trying to get the gang to donate still, Karen's alcoholism getting worse

We lay here, for years or for hours Your hand in my hand, so still and discreet

Charles and Arthur helping the native americans, holding on to the last hope that they might do something good

So long we'd become the flowers We'd feed well the land and worry the sheep

They don't save them. Eagle flies dies.

They'd find us in a week When the cattle show fear

The camp nearly empty, everyone is leaving one by one

After the insects have made their claim

Molly being killed by Susan

After the foxes have known our taste

Micah manipulating everyone on his side, even Javier.

I'd be home with you, I'd be home with you,

Sadie and Arthur going out together, they're the last two fighting.

They'd find us in a week (We lay here for years or hours) When the weather gets hot (So long we'd become the flowers)

The last mission, saving Abigail, Arthur saying goodbye to Tilly.

They'd find us in a week (We lay here for years or hours) When the cattle show fear(So long we'd become the flowers)

Gang splitting in half, drawing guns at each other.

And they'd find us in a week

Arthur alone on the mountain.

When the buzzards get loud

High honour ending, we see deers.

After the insects have made their claim

John with his ranch.

After the foxes have known our taste

Red dead redemption one, John helping Abigail and Jack leave in the barn.

After the raven has had his say

Rdr scenes of Dutchs last words.

I'd be home with you

Dutch and Hosea

I'd be home with you

Arthur and Mary

I'd be home with you

John and Abigail

I'd be home with you

Arthur and Charles

I'd be home with you

John, Sadie and Charles

I'd be home with you

Jack standing in front of Abigails and Johns graves

[multistanninglifestyle]

If someone asked me at the end

I’d tell them “put me back in it”

[mochii-derogatory]

that damn blanket...

[loneleeghost]

“true that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me”

[madootles]

consumed with the urge to draw with ed holding cat. that's all

edit: metal arm wrong side bc canvas flip

[lifemod17]

Hozier with puppies

🎥: Ruthlessimagery | instagram

05/15/2024

[anne-is-confused]

The words hung above (but never would form)

[mythblossoms]

cherry wine

pairing: sylus x gn!reader

content: mutual pining, slight angst, music used as metaphor (poorly), pre-relationship, hand holding and dancing

a/n: sometimes a specific scene sticks in your head and you have to write something around that only. i also just love the sound of a cello ;-;

wc: ~1.4k

Music was honest. It spoke plainly about its desires and was vulnerable. The melodies openly conveyed emotions and stories, imploring those who heard to succumb to their passions. There is a beauty in patterns and themes laced between the harmonies.

At the least, that’s what Sylus told himself as he leaned casually against the gilded pillars decorating the gala floor. 

Your invitation to some musicians gala hadn’t been unexpected - the connections and intel privy to him had become a bonus to your missions, and Sylus was happy to oblige. But your openness, that was new. Your willingness to reach out and discuss tactics and invite him as something more, more than a source of knowledge at least.

He was happy to watch you work, your acting skills so finely honed now as you smiled coyly at other guests perched at the bar - your eyes, in contrast, sharply focused on your surroundings. You were an unknown force in your element, poised to strike. 

The musicians began their arrangement, the opening notes notifying the guests of the story they aimed to tell.

The aching thrum of the cello, the pining glide of the violin - woven together to create a song of want, grounded by a repetition of keys played softly on the piano. Sylus knows the story that inspired the peaks and valleys of this piece - the undying devotion of some underworld god to his spring bride, the names long forgotten but the sentiments still clinging to the notes. For you, I will wait. For you, I will suffer time and space. 

His eyes find your form across the gala floor. You, so warmly illuminated by the overhead chandeliers, cherry wine in hand and the pomegranate stain of your lips. Would you also eat the seeds — if offered? Would you stay — if asked? Your eyes flicked to his, offering a near imperceptible nod in his direction. For you, he would ask again and again.

The low lament of the cello hums through the room as your eyes leave his, searching the faces of each passerby as you swirl the untouched wine. Reasonably, Sylus knows that once you’ve completed your mission, you’ll be gone again. And he will wait again, until he is needed, until you are ready. The constant refrain his own frustrating internal melody - wait, wait, wait — again, again, again. He did not have the patience of some ancient god, and the yearning notes of the song left a sour taste in his mouth. 

As the music swells, melodic and mournful, Sylus finds himself pulled to you. He moves across the floor slowly, yet purposefully, eyes never leaving your face. 

“Dance with me.” Sylus offers his open palm to you, an open invitation, the corner of his mouth lifting into a slight smirk. 

You swirl the wine again in your glass, watching as the dark red liquid briefly coats the glass before settling. “Do you always ask people to dance to tragic love songs?” you mused, placing the glass on the bar. It’s easy, like this, pretending to be two strangers drawn together by the fervor of the strings. The hunger of their pitch echoing the feeling in your chest. 

“There’s a - sincerity to tragedy that makes it more memorable.” And for a moment, he seems far away, some distant memory clinging to the edge of his vision before he’s raising an eyebrow at you again.

“People will think you’re some sort of brooding crow.” You tease and gently take his hand, letting him guide you to the near empty floor.

“Do you think I care what people think, sweetheart?” Sylus smirks again, lightly holding your hand in one and splaying his other across your lower back. He pulls you in closer, chests nearly touching as he leans in closely. “I’m more interested in what your eyes see.” His warm breath sends a jolt of electricity down your spine. 

Logically, you think he means finding your target. Your vantage point from the center of the room certainly allows you to see more faces than you could from your singular place at the bar. And yet - the gentle way he holds your hand, the warm touch on your lower back, the softness in his eyes as he searches yours - you consider the outcomes of being bold, of being honest. 

Your hand flattens against the base of his neck, a thrum of energy flowing between the closeness of your bodies - your eyes fixed solely on his. “I’m not sure I’ve seen enough to make an informed decision.” The air stills around you, time seemingly frozen in this moment as the energy between you intensifies, the magnification of something bigger than both of you. “I’ll keep looking though.” 

The far away look returns to his eyes, his brow furrowing slightly - unexpressed sentiments hanging in the air. The instruments die down, the lack of sound somehow deafening in your ears, and Sylus slowly releases your waist - breaking the chord that hummed so loudly between you. 

Before you can step away, he captures your hand in both of his. Delicately, he lifts your palm to his lips and presses a light kiss in the center, holding your gaze before fully releasing you. Your palm tingles with warmth as you squeeze your hand shut, tucking it at your side. “Careful - don’t look too far or you may lose sight of what you're searching for.” His words feel ambiguous, leaving you sifting through context and emotion, the two swirling together as he steps closer. “On your right,” he murmurs before casually walking towards the exit. 

This is why pretending is easier, why leaving is easier - even when you knew you would come back. Staying meant confronting whatever ambiguity grasped onto each look or word between you and Sylus. Leaving granted space, a moment to breathe. Exhaling, you locked onto the man on your right, surrounded by others clinging onto whatever syrupy words he spun. Leaving meant gaining some control of this situation.

Sylus did not have the patience of long forgotten gods, but he did have their petulance. Standing at the end of the long hallway, shrouded in the shadow of a pillar - surely this is the type of brooding expected of a deity. 

Twice you managed to catch him in a moment. Twice, a fleeting sense of clarity that was quickly broken once he realized his surroundings and the scenario you both were in. You had truly looked at him this time, as if you could see each miniscule crack that deepened each moment spent together then apart. He felt a seismic shift beneath layers of protection he had spent so many years building up. The notes of the cello reverberated through Sylus’s mind, blending with his internal symphony - wait, wait, wait, for you. He had no clear path forward to you, no seeds to offer you - only the notes of song urging patience.

Footsteps interrupted his ruminations, the sound resonating down the hall moving closer to him. He doesn’t need to look up to know it’s you, the familiar determination underneath the light sound - letting you come to him. “Caught what you needed, kitten?” The teasing nickname falls easily from his lips, but he’s searching your face again - looking for something, anything to flicker across your face. Your determined mask remains in place and you’re barely slowing down as you pass him — leaving again.

“His notes were…off-key,” you state plainly, stepping out into the cool night air. Sylus huffs a laugh in response, bad intel. “But not a total loss, he had some interesting friends. Guess I’ll have to look closer.” There’s a subtle curtness to your voice, dismissive even, as you navigate the city street - Sylus still trailing behind.

“Be patient,” he almost bites out, the irony not lost on him. “True motives always reveal themselves, in the end.” 

You stopped abruptly in front of him, turning to face him with a boldness he’d grown fond of. “And if I’m not patient?” Your words are clear, daring to hold his gaze. “What if I’m impulsive?”

“The power is in your hands then - you have to decide how you want to proceed.” Another dance, another song — laced with hidden meanings. Your eyes soften slightly - were you playing the same tune? Did you understand the notes played under his words? Sylus extends his hand to you again, palm open and still. “For now, let’s get you home.”

You smile lightly, the corners of your lips slightly turned up. “It’s early for you - isn’t it?” You take his hand, gently lacing your fingers with his. “Why don’t you take me on the scenic route?” 

[saltair-and-webweaves]

I've dug two graves for us, my dear

I lied - lord huron/in a week - hozier/ @orpheuslament/la belle fleur sauvage - lord huron/the lovers of valdaro/love like ghosts - lord huron/ @werebian/everywhere, everything - noah kahan/in a week - hozier/ @0-0-0-untitled/revenge - xxxtentacion

[becca-e-barnes]

thinking about mating press with beefy!bucky. all that weight on top of you, knowing for certain he’s about to breed you?? ughhh

Oh God yes, the thought of this makes me fucking purr 🤤

Just the thought of his thick, slightly curved cock sliding as deep inside as you can take. The feeling of his tip rubbing against your cervix before he withdraws, pulling almost entirely out of you before he glides back in again.

"Good girl, 'm so proud of you. Cum nice and hard for me, I've got you. You're safe." He holds you so close, letting you sob your pleasure against his neck while he works you through another orgasm. It's tender and romantic and loving and you're beyond aware that this man makes you insanely wet.

Your thighs are still trembling as you come down from your high. Each thrust now feels like it's almost too much but with the way Bucky's groaning, he might not be able to keep it up for much longer.

"Fuck, you feel like Heaven. This pretty little pussy was made for me. Made to be mine." His thrusts are punishing but it's an addictive feeling. "I'm going to fill you. I'm not going to pull out. Going to give you a baby."

You're almost surprised how badly you want that but it's very hard to find the words to tell him; not when his thrusts are beginning to stutter and his high seems to get closer and closer.

"I'm going to fuck a baby into you." His hand holds your chin, making sure he can see your eyes. The evidence of pleasure written all over his face might've been enough to convince you that you could handle another orgasm but you'll still not quite sure that's a good idea.

Within a few more seconds, his cock is throbbing inside you, shooting stripes of hot, thick cum right against your cervix. He looks entirely content with his decision, pressing as deep as he can so you can feel him pulse and twitch.

There's not much you need to say to each other for a few seconds. Instead, it's nice to just listen to you both trying to catch your breath while your partner floods your waiting, fluttering sex with his cum.

[hoziercriespower]

Hozier - In A Week ft Karen Cowley (Live at Kilkenny Castle )

❝ We lay here for years or for hours Your hand in my hand, so still and discreet ❞

[ninvic-art]

i wouldn't fall for someone i thought couldn't misbehave

[callitblackstar]

jayvik // abstract (psychopomp)

[feralnumberfive]

We deserved an epic fight scene of Five teleporting around and using his rewind abilities to "Time" by Pink Floyd. We were robbed before the shop was even built.

But also

Tired of lying in the sunshine, staying home to watch the rain You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today And then one day you find ten years have got behind you No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

Young Five.

And you run, and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking Racing around to come up behind you again The sun is the same in a relative way, but you're older Shorter of breath, and one day closer to death

Old Five.

Like, come on.

[oscarisaacasimov]

Ideas maturing from debut album to Unheard

In Work Song, "no grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her." Addiction, imprisonment, crimes, death itself are no obstacle to love.

10 years later, Too Sweet acknowledges that more mundane obstacles like career, sleep schedule, and lifestyle/personality differences, can break two people apart.

In A Week is a gentle duet, full of nature descriptions, coming to the conclusion that it would be peaceful & romantic to lay down and die together.

10 years later, Wildflower & Barley is a gentle duet, full of nature descriptions, and the awareness that death is all around. But this time, the singers wish to be like the dirt, not to decompose but to work towards growing something new

[lifemod17]

THIS IS NOT A DRILL: 'NFWMB' in the year of our lord 2024!!!

Madison, WI won so hard tonight !!!

PLEASE he sounds so good and the little pause he does after that "ain't you my baby"?? I AM ABOUT TO DO SOMETHING DRASTIC

🎥: sarahmarieg0926 | tiktok

Madison, WI || 08/16/2024

@melit0n MEL!! YOUR SONG!!