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

Must I have a career? Is it not enough to scroll Pinterest while listening to Hozier?

in a week

Finnick Odair x reader

summary: nothing calms finnick like the feeling of your hand in his || summary: this is the hunger games, hunger games angst || words: 612 || masterlist

You find Finnick lying in the damp, dewy grass by the sand dunes. The wind is barely there, blowing gently across your face. His eyes are closed, arms stretched out and hands woven into the blades of grass.

You slowly sits down next to him, interlacing your fingers with his and ignoring the moisture that sticks to his skin. His breath stutters, eyes fluttering open and turning his head to face you. You simply smile, lying back to join him.

“Nightmare?”

He nods, not trusting his voice. Softly, you squeeze his hand. Even softer, he squeezes back.

His heartbeat slowed, regulating itself as you pressed your hand against his. Slowly, his arm brushed yours and you shuffled until you were pressed together, not an inch of space between you.

Dawn had not yet broken but there was no shame in lying there until dusk. The flowers could weave their way into your hair, dragonflies landing on your still legs before flying off once more. No one would bother them here. No one would even look for them.

Finnick's eyes drifted shut. He let sleep take him, exhausted from his restless night. Silently, you watched the sun rise as Finnick slept. The wind cooled your skin before the sun could warm it again. It basked his face in a golden glow that made him look like an angel. He looked peaceful. He didn't look tormented in the tranquility of this golden morning.

A furrow stitched itself between his brows, a small huff of air left his parted lips, a twitch of his head let you know what was happening. Slowly, you reached over with your spare hand and traced it down the side of his face. You squeezed the hand that held yours, rubbing your thumb soothingly over the back of it.

Finnick sighed but the tension left his shoulders and the crease in his eyebrows flattened once more.

In his dreams, he was back in the arena. It was always the arena. The arena is cold. The arena is lonely.

His entire body is damp from the lake he hunted in. He stalks out his prey like the apex predator he had recently become. In the days, he is constantly on edge, looking for other tributes and killing anyone who approaches him.

But at night, the air is even colder, clinging to his skin and settling on his bones. He lies completely still, staring up at the stars in the sky but too afriad to sleep. Every single night he contemplates letting someone kill him. He wonders how long it would take for a tribute to find him if he didn't move. The nagging feeling in the back of his head doesn't let the thought linger. He had to get back. He had to get home. He had to get to you. Home with you...

That's where he finds himself now. His skin is soaking in the moisture from the grass below but it doesn't settle cold on his bones. It flows through him, moving past. His hand tightens around yours unconsciously and your warmth calms him more than anything else could.

This could be his new forever. If he didn't have to perform for the Capitol and sell him body for Snow's benefit, he wouldn't move from this spot for a decade. He would sit by the sea, watching the tide rise and fall. Finnick would get out his Dad's fishing equipment and sit at the dock, waiting. It wouldn't even matter if he didn't catch anything, because it would have been anything other than his present life.

We'd lay here for years or for hours, your hand in my hand.

if you want a taglist, let me know. comment what kind of thing you want to see next x

Let's make this a Hozier profile let's go

a very specific feeling ive had quite a lot recently

franz kafka / @/sunlightafterdark (instagram) / @mossy-suggestions / in a week - hozier / @queermetal / edvard munch / @ghostsingold / @ghuolboy / @howlsnteeth / @cottagewarlock / solar waltz - cosmo sheldrake / @unspokengrief​ / @angelwormwood / @conceptualsolitude​ 

the hold this album has on me

Hozier songs being horny and tender CAN coexist with his songs having a social meaning. That is like his whole deal. Sometimes I think that most of you just use other people words when you like something.

For the individuals that say that he is no longer the same fae king hozier... My brother in christ you only listened to In a week and work song.

And They'd Find Us In A Week - Chapter 5

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 3.1k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! A/N: Don't be scared to click the embedded links, you might get an auditory surprise (Ai voice cloning works wonders)

Past (v) - Finnick

[17 & 18] - DISTRICT FOUR

Finnick sits at his desk, the end of his pencil tapping a song into the wood as he thinks. The two of you have been exchanging letters for almost a year now, but he still gets excited whenever you send a new one. Excited and nervous. Getting them mailed between districts is a slow progression involving lying to a few mayors and he's sure Snow reads each one. Still, Finnick thinks, it's worth it. In your latest letter, you explained to him how a bear snuck in from the woods, and the peacekeepers were forced to gun it down. Luckily, no one was hurt, but the mayor was "generous" enough to divide the meat among the citizens who were working. You finish with a closing of 'With love', your signature, and a shitty little drawing of a bear at the bottom with X's over its eyes. He traces it with his finger and pictures you hunched over your desk, nose scrunching in concentration as you draw it. "With love, huh?" He whispers to himself and smiles. Along with your letter, you sent a parcel full of bundled brown sticks tied together with yarn. Licorice root, you had said. Only available in the Capitol and District Eleven, best used in tea with berries. He brings it to his nose and it smells sweet, like caramelized sugar. It smells like you, but it's missing that undercurrent of earthly petrichor. He looks up when he sees Mags approaching with a knowing look in her eyes. She looks at the letter in his hands and he folds it before she can read the contents. Not that it matters. All she needed to see was the signature. It's not like she doesn't know who you are. She was so ecstatic to hear your stories, insisting he got more from you. And you gave them freely, even after Finnick ran out of ones to trade. It’s odd. You wanted nothing in return. Sometimes, he gets a little ahead of himself and wonders if it’s because you like him.

It isn’t too far-fetched to assume that, right? Right. "What's that face for?" He laughs. She takes a loose piece of paper and a pencil to write: "When's the wedding?" He opens and closes his mouth, words escaping him. "It's not like that. We're just—” Just what? You are friends, right? Finnick has friends, but none that he likes as much as you. And the way he feels with you? He doesn't feel like that around them, not by a long shot. To just call you a friend feels like calling an ocean a pond. It's almost disrespectful to condense it into something so lacking. He can’t force you, and everything you make him feel—into such a small box, it would only overflow and drown him. You are much, much more than a pond. 

Best friend, then? While true, it feels too juvenile. He considers it and he doesn't particularly like the idea of just being your friend anyway. He imagines you introducing him as such.

“Oh, and this is Finnick. My friend. Only my friend.”

No. No, he doesn’t like that at all. 

If he can't be honest with you, he can at least be honest with Mags. "—I guess it is something like that." She hums excitedly and pinches his warm cheeks. "She says she hopes you're doing well." Mags perks up at that, gesturing between herself and the blank paper. He grins at her enthusiasm, "I'll tell her you said hi. Promise." She nods and pats his hand with a smile. As she walks to sit on the couch behind him, he thinks about what to send you. He can't just send a letter. Especially after you went out of your way to send licorice roots after he offhandedly mentioned he'd like to try some. He wracks his brain but comes up empty. Other than rope, hooks, and seashells, there's nothing else he can give you. His eyes drift around the room, landing on his bare wrist.

There is something he can make you. 

Still. You want to be around him now more than ever.

Don't worry, there's more! For whatever reason, Tumblr refuses to let me post some chapters in their entirety, so if you want the rest, just click this link!

I love me some folksy music that makes me feel like im watching seven year old me sitting under the magnolia tree in my grandmothers woods, collecting little flowers and berries and turning them into the most delectable soup ever created. Music that makes me feel like a misty morning when i was woken up by a mourning dove and im sipping on sweet tea. Music that makes me feel understood and safe.

SOMEONE SAID THAT WILDFLOWER AND BARLEY IS THE FLIPSIDE OF IN A WEEK AND ???? SOMEONE NEEDS TO SCIENTIFICALLY STUDY THIS

Coming soon.

in a week - hozier

Happy 2/22 👹👹👹

Willy Wonka in the studio pt 3

I’m here to recommend a book to all of my fellow Hozier fans! - The Unworthy (Las Indignas) by Agustina Bazterrica

It fucking has everything!!! Wasteland setting and crippled nature, only woman characters, cultlike situations and religious imaginery. Little spoiler : it even has a little digging up your lover from the ground scene so I’m just assuming the writer listens to Hozier too.

Really worth it!!!

quick sketch i made inspired by in a week (hozier)