#like what else could hozier mean by ‘don’t you hear me howling outside your door’

[here-for-a-good-time-hopefully]

Remus is a blues/folk singer and I can imagine him singing ‘It Will Come Back’ by Hozier to Sirius

Both a warning and a call for him

[gcwcns]

ROLEPLAY TAGS: HOZIER EDITION

below the cut you will find 100+ (i lost count) lyrics from hozier’s entire discography that could be used as rp (charrie, otp, etc.) tags. they are arranged by song. if you’re looking for a specific song press ctrl (command if on mac) and f to search it! 

take me to church 

if the heavens ever did speak she's the last true mouthpiece

i'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

i’m a pagan of the good times my lover’s the sunlight

drain the whole sea get something shiny

there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

angel of small death & the codeine scene

shaking the wings of their terrible youths

with her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean

she's the angel of small death and the codeine scene 

it's bloody and raw, but i swear it is sweet

the sweet heat of her breath in my mouth I'm alive

jackie and wilson

so tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes

no better version of me i could pretend to be tonight

she blows outta nowhere roman candle of the wild

every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside

cut clean from the dream at night let my mind reset

someone new 

electing strange perfections in any stranger i choose.

there's an art to life's distractions,

the dark caress of someone else i guess any thrill will do

my heart's already sinned.

i fall in love just a little bit every day with someone new

to be alone 

never feel too good in crowds

all i’ve ever done is hide 

i feel like a person for a moment of my life

to have someone kiss the skin that crawls from you

it's the god that heroin prays to

from eden 

something tragic about you something so magic about you

honey you're familiar like my mirror years ago

idealism sits in prison chivalry fell on its sword

innocence died screaming honey ask me i should know

i slithered here from eden just to sit outside your door

in a week 

i have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me

our hunger's appeased our heart beats becoming slow

so long, we'd become the flowers

after the foxes have known our taste

they'd find us in a week when the buzzards get loud

sedated

just a little rush to feel dizzy to derail the mind of me

our veins are busy but my heart's in atrophy

you and I nursing on a poison that never stung

free and young and we can feel none of it

i'm somewhere outside my life babe

work song

there's nothing sweeter than my baby

she'd give me toothaches just from kissing me 

no grave can hold my body down i’ll crawl home to her 

in the low lamp light i was free 

heaven and hell were words to me 

like real people do 

why were you digging what did you bury 

i will not ask and neither should you

honey just put your sweet lips on my lips

we should just kiss like real people do 

i knew that look dear eyes always seeking

it will come back 

i know who i am when I'm alone

you should never know how easy you are to need 

don't let me in with with no intention to keep me

give me mercy no more

don't you hear me howling babe

foreigner’s god 

she moved with shameless wonder perfect creature rarely seen 

her eyes look sharp and steady into the empty parts of me 

always a well dressed fraud

screaming the name of a foreigner's god the purest expression of grief

i've no language left to say it every word i've got is foreign to me 

cherry wine

her eyes and words are so icy 

she burns like rum on a fire

the blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine

her fight and fury is fiery 

and it's worth it all it's divine

in the woods somewhere

i called your name til the fever broke

night so black that the darkness hums

i prayed my mind be good to me  

i spoke no word no sound he made

to save a life i didn't have

run

tare is this love keep it covered

her hungry eyes her ancient soul

a shame without a sin

with as many souls claimed as she

run til you feel your lungs bleeding

arsonist’s lullaby

i learned the voices died with me

all you have is your fire

don't you ever tame your demons but always keep em on a leash

i knew that something would always rule m

but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake

my love will never die 

honey please try to love me

my love will never die

flowers grow where I'm laid to rest

pick a blossom and hold it hold it to your breast

my love bursting loud from inside

nina cried power 

it's not the waking, it's the rising

it's the heaven of a human spirit ringing

i could cry power

power has been cried by those stronger than me

rattle your chains if you love being free

nfwmb 

give your heart and soul to charity

the rest of you the best of you belongs to me

If I was born as a black thorn tree I'd wanna be felled by you 

fuel the pyre of your enemies

ain't it warming you the world goin up in flames

moment’s silence (common tongue) 

relax and catch the manic rhapsody

all of me is a prayer in perfect piety

when the meaning is gone there is clarity

since it all begun to it's reckoning

so summon on the pearl rosary

shrike

the words hung above but never would form

remember me love when i'm reborn 

as the shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn 

all of my goodness is going with you now

grounded and giving and darkening scorn

almost (sweet music)

sweet music playin in the dark

be still my foolish heart don't ruin this on me

let's get lost and let the good times roll

a love supreme seems far removed

reporting russian lullabies

movement

i could never define all that you are to me

shake like the bough of a willow tree

honey you're atlas in his sleeping

in awe of something so flawed and free

when you move i move

no plan

the screaming heaving fuckery of the world

there's no kingdom to come

there will be darkness again

keep my body from the fire hire a gardener for my grave

when I'm lying under marble marvel at flowers you'll have made 

nobody 

i've been fed gold by sweet fools in abu dhabi

i'd be appalled if I saw you ever try to be a saint

if i had the choice between hearing either noise

i once warmed my hands over a burning Maserati

i’ve had no love like your love

to noise making (sing)

your head tilt back your funny mouth to the clouds

was it just the act of making noise that brought you joy

you don't have to sing it right but who could call you wrong

put your emptiness to melody your awful heart to song

who could ask you be unbroken or be brave again

as it was

i'd had life enough my heart is screaming of

whatever here that's left of me is yours

but your love was unmoved

just as it was before the otherness came

nights were as dark as my baby half as beautiful too

talk

i’d be the voice that urged orpheus when her body was found 

i'd be the choiceless hope in grief that drove him underground

imagine being loved by me

i'd be the last shred of truth in the lost myth of true love

that's found in the last witness before the wave hits

be

once atrocity is hoarse from voicing shame

with the same sweet shock of when Adam first came

be the hopeful feeling when eden was lost

when i have no kind words left love for you now

that will grow bold in a barren and desolate land

dinner & diatribes

hell is the talking type

i'd suffer hell if you'd tell me what you'd do to me tonight 

a pillar i am of pride

let there be hotel complaints and grievances raised

that's the kinda love i’ve been dreaming of

would that i 

love in withdrawal was the weeping of me

with the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet

i fell in love with the fire long ago 

i was fixed on your hand of gold

and it’s not tonight where i’m set alight

sunlight 

betray the moon as acolyte on first and fierce affirming sight

a soul that's born in cold and rain

i would gladly be the Icarus to your certainty

strap the wing to me death trap clad happily

your love is sunlight

wasteland, baby!

all the fear and fire of the end of the world

like the bonfire that burns that all words in the fight fell to

be still my indelible friend you are unbreaking

and that day that we'll watch the death of the sun

the death of all things that are seen and unseen

better love

blind to the purpose of the brute divine

Staring in the blackness at some distant star

you whose heart would sing of anarchy

when our truth is burned from history

like fire weeping from a cedar tree know that my love would burn with me

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

Andrew Garfield x Female Reader: One (Forty-Fucking-Three, Part 4)

A/N: Dear reader, we have finally made it. Here comes the forth and the last part of this series, which I can only hope you have enjoyed reading as much as I did writing. Thank you for having plunged headfirst into this difficult relationship with Andrew Garfield - I know I didn’t make it look like a walk in the part, but you are reading this, which means you still stayed. So basically, you slay. I do hope you’ll like it, bee’s knees xx Warnings: Hideous English, swearing, angst (I probably have some emotional issue - angst is like my specialty lol). Other than that, none.

New to the series? Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3  Bonus:

Raindrops felt like blunt needles, landing on your cheeks and forehead, leaving their cool imprints on your skin. As your hands gripped its wet and slippery doorknob, you swung the door to your favorite café open, a completely random thought crossing your mind: you haven’t seen the skies weep like that since that life-changing night… Two weeks ago.

The café greeted you with a wave of warm air, the smell of coffee hitting your nostrils. You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes, so lost in the moment you almost failed to acknowledge your ringing cell, screaming for your attention. Making your way to the beaming barista at the counter, you took out the convulsing device, briefly checking out the name on the display before taking the call, unable to suppress a small grin.

The café was deserted – the rainstorm outside was so violent, even hardened by the ongoing battle with the nature Londoners made sure to stay at home. Polished wooden tables gleamed softly in the light of the pendant lamps, Hozier’s voice tuning the sound of the wind out completely. Entering the café felt like setting foot in another universe, and this was what you loved most about the place.

Looking around and taking your surroundings in with a feeling of peacefulness settling in your chest, you brought the phone to your ear, still smiling at the barista, an acquaintance of yours.

“To what do I own the pleasure?” you smirked, mouthing cinnamon latte to the boy in front of the cashier desk, throwing two fingers of your free hand in the air. He took the largest carton cup, looking at your questioningly. You nodded negatively, pressing the phone with your ear to your shoulder and producing two tumblers from your leather backpack. Smiling, you handed him both. He took them, winking at you. “Are you that bored of white sand and turquoise sea?”

You heard Brittnee chuckle on the other end of the line, imagining her sitting on a beach wearing nothing but a white bikini and a huge hat, sipping on her Cosmopolitan. 

“I thought you’ve met the guy I’m dating. He doesn’t do boring. His ass is always on the move,” she said, delight nonetheless jingling in her voice. “Yes, I’m talking about you”, she added, throwing a challenging glare her torturer’s way, no doubt. “Hey!” you heard a splashing sound before Britt’s outburst of irritation deafened you. You bit your lower lip in an attempt to keep the laughter at bay, your eyes focused on the coffee barista was currently preparing for you.

“How is London treating you?” Britt sighed, most likely falling back into her chair after a failed attempt at revenge. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come, it’s just when Seabass really wants something, he can be very persuasive”.

“You love me!” you heard Sebastian Stan’s voice echo in the background, followed by yet another splash. You snorted with laugher, brushing your fingers through the damp strands of your hair absentmindedly.

“I can see that,” you half-smirked, leaning against the counter on your elbows. “If that’s going to make you sleep better at night, you aren’t missing much. Just really bad weather, great coffee…” the barista looked up at you, smiling gratefully, “…and a Harry Potter Movie Marathon”.

Brittnee laughed heartily, the sound of it extremely contagious. 

“So that’s what you have been doing instead of reading your script? Watching Daniel Radcliffe refusing to kick the bucket for two weeks straight?”

You feigned a scandalized expression, your eyes growing wide. 

“Excuse me,” you spoke slowly, your voice dripping with hurt dignity. “I’ve learned all my lines ages ago. Believe it or not, I’d be glad to go back to work again, but Tony couldn’t seem to settle that actor problem… Until yesterday,” the barista put two steaming lattes on the counter in front of you and you gave him a thankful look. “He called me last night saying we’re starting on Monday. So let me binge on Harry Potter in peace”.

You heard your friend snicker as you searched the pockets of your leather jacket for money. 

“Can I get two sugars for each please? Thank you,” you spoke to the barista, your voice drowning out half of Brittnee’s reply. 

“…got him to watch it with you,” was all you caught, handing the smiling guy a ten. Motioning for him to keep the change, you snapped thick plastic lids over the tumblers and wrapped your fingers around their boiling hot steel, carefully lifting them up.

“You’d be surprised,” you spoke after having restored Britt’s speech in your head, flinching at the burning sensation, growing in your fingertips. “I keep telling him he could play the younger edgy version of that marauder… What’s his name again…” you put the coffees back on the table, taking a minute to bring out your flannel shirt from under the sleeves of your jacket, so it covered your entire hands. With your skin now protected by the soft fabric, you confidently grabbed the tumblers from the counter and stuffed them in your small backpack.

“How did he take that?” Brittnee was obviously having too much fun, imagining you saying shit like that to him. You couldn’t help but smirk, recalling that priceless expression of utter puzzlement on his face.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure that if I say it one more time, he’s going to throw his head back and howl at the moon”.

You thought Britt would split her sides laughing this time, as you made your way to the exit. The thought of trading the warm and cosy café for shrieking wind and piercing rain would seem outrageous if your insides didn’t perform all sorts of flips once you remembered what wrapping your hands around his torso felt like when riding his Harley Davidson.

“How is it going between the two of you?” Brittnee’s voice grew serious all of the sudden, the notes of familiar teasing all gone now. “Maybe it’s time you stopped keeping your distance? I know I have no business poking my nose into your guys relationship, but, Y/N, you deserve to be happy… Why don’t you let him in?”

You couldn’t help but frown at her words, as your stomach churned, your gaze fixed on the falling streams of rain behind the glass doors of the café. Last time, you were moving too fast. Jumping head first into the fire, your emotions taking complete control. This time, it needed to be different.

“Honestly, Britt, taking it slow seems like the best option”, you finally said, your voice a little too thin. “I need time to figure a shitload of things out, and he knows it. We’re friends, and it does the trick. For now,” your eyes focused on the black, shiny motorcycle parked by the edge of the road, its owner squatting by the front wheel, probably checking if some mechanism worked properly. His helmet hid his thick mane of hair and deep brown, bottomless eyes.

“You can’t play it safe for long, Y/N,” Britt’s voice seemed to merge with the one that rang in your head every minute of every day. “You’re going to have to take that jump one day, probably sooner than later”.

You blinked twice, fighting the sudden sensation of emptiness in your bones, an omen of something big and probably terrible. Raking one of your hands through your hair, you bit your lower lip nervously. You didn’t like this gut feeling. You didn’t like it one bit.

Brittnee kept talking, but you missed every word she said when barista called your name.

Sugar. You must have forgotten your sachets of sugar on the counter.

You turned on your heels abruptly, ready to go and fetch them… When your body collided with someone else’s, the hit catching you completely off guard. You gasped, ready to land on your ass, when two strong, rough hands grabbed your waist, keeping you steady. 

Brain freeze. Your heartbeats echoing within the walls of the deserted café. His eyes watching you in that straightforward, wholehearted way as if saying I was worried sick, baby, where have you been. Everyone hopes someone someday will look at them this way. 

“Andrew,” you said, like it was the most natural thing to utter after having slept with the guy and then having left him, naked, all alone on the floor.

It has been two weeks.  

Looking at Garfield now, you could swear it might have been ages, the lines on his forehead so much more prominent, that careless sweet smile not living on his lips anymore.

“Andrew?” you heard Brittnee raise her voice at the mention of his name. “What does he have to do with any of this?”

Britt’s sobering voice seemed to shake you awake. Paralyzing stupor still reigned over your body, but at least your mind was clearing up.

He didn’t change… And why would he? It has only been two weeks…

Staring at him openly, still shocked, you realized you were wrong. He did change. Something in him did. It was more than these obvious signs of lack of sleep and what was it… Stress maybe? You didn’t know. 

It was in the way he looked at you, like a man tired of fighting, who fell on his knees to beg for forgiveness, waving the white flag. At the same time, there were sparks in his eyes, one of that long list of reasons you couldn’t stay away from him in the first place… 

You were a mess, gazing at him open-mouthed, searching for God knows what in his features, while he stared back at you like he had finally found exactly what he was looking for. 

“Britt, I…” you spoke, not taking your eyes off him. “I’m going to have to call you back…” not hearing what she was saying, you dropped the call, unblinking, the world around Andrew and you going mute.

Everything about Andrew Garfield was daring you to fall in love with him again.

And you were holding on to dear life in order not to lose that dare.

“What are you doing here?” your voice was cold enough to chill Garfield’s bones, as you finally managed to speak again. 

He bit his lower lip slowly, studying your face, his eyes sliding down your neck, your shoulders, your chest… It was like he tried to swallow you in, a junkie, who finally got a hold of what he craved most.

“I’m in London for work”, he answered vaguely, his voice pulling at the strings of your bloody heart, as it sang in your chest like a damn violin. 

When you lay awake at night these two past weeks you kept imagining what your encounter would be like… Five, maybe ten years from now. The look on his face when he would realize that the woman who once may have cared too much for him, no longer cared about him at all. 

It has been two weeks. 

This hadn’t been the case yet. You weren’t ready. 

“For work”, you repeated, urging him to develop. You aren’t supposed to be here, you almost screamed, panic overflowing your confused mind. You checked three hundred times, he was supposed to be in America, filming with Nicole Kidman or something…

“Yeah, I’m…” you suddenly realized Andrew was lost for words. And his hands, his bloody hands were still on your waist, apparently lost, too. “I’ve decided to do theater”.

Your heart stopped dead, and its lack of movement caused your chest to shudder in pain. Trying to keep your voice leveled, you pretended like you didn’t know what it was all about, but in truth, you did. You just couldn’t believe it.

“That’s… great, Andrew”, stop saying his name, “Where are you going to be at?”

Every word you said came out wrong. You looked at his face and all you saw were your naked bodies, entangled together, his lips sliding down your chest…

It was getting harder to breathe.

“Where you are,” he answered simply, his honesty slapping you across the face. You popped your eyes at him the minute these words escaped his bitten lips, his eyes caressing your face… 

“I’m going to play Prior Walter in Tony Kushner’s Angels in America.”

You no longer felt anything. Just stared at him, uncomprehending, your entire being void. After everything he’d put you through, after you made sure to disappear from his life forever… He point blank refused to let you go in peace. 

“What?…” your voice sounded like it came from someone else. Every second of this talk felt like a shitty planned out dialogue that was never supposed to take place in the real life. Your throat starting to tighten, you stared at him with your eyes wide and crazy, the fury inside of you making your skin crawl. “You’re shitting me, right? What is all of this?”

Taken aback at your reaction, Andrew bit the inside of his cheek. All you wanted to do was scream and break things. 

“Didn’t I make my intentions clear enough?” you realized you were on the verge of shouting, losing all sense of self-control there was left in you. “I don’t fucking want you in my life, I don’t want you around, I don’t want you…” as you tried to push him away, as far as your strength would allow you, he grabbed your shoulders, leaning in closer.

“Y/N, listen to me!”  his brown eyes were all you could see, “I was wrong, I need you, I need you more than anything, just…”

“You need me!” you almost yelped, breaking free of his hold. “How fucking dare you, Garfield!” you spit your words in his face. “Two weeks ago, you looked me in the eyes and you told me you loved another woman more than you loved me! This is insanity!” you scratched your nails on your head, looking at him, your eyes wild.

“Please, Y/N, let’s just talk,” Andrew’s eyes grew red as he tried to take your hands. You stepped back, like a wounded animal. “Everything’s changed, after…”

“After we fucked,” you finished for him, almost smiling, your voice poison. “So that’s all it took for you to come crawling on your knees. Jesus,” you crossed your hands on your chest, biting your lips and staring at him in disbelief. “For the love of God, Andrew,” you exhaled noisily, trying to get your shit together. “There’s a reason for why I didn’t stay. I moved on. It’s time you did too.”

You turned around, dead set on leaving him where he stood, ending the conversation and this entire story, this insane drama that was never supposed to take place… 

“Fifty-three,” you heard him say behind your back. These words came out like a last attempt at a cry for help. Like they were his joker, the last card he had left to play. You froze in place, looking over your shoulder.

“Excuse me?” you raised your eyebrows at him, genuinely trying to understand what the hell he was talking about.

“Fifty-three,” he repeated again, like it was supposed to make all the sense in the world. His hands buried deeply in his pockets, he made a step towards you, bitter and desperate smile twisting his lips. “That’s the number of messages I left on your phone. You would know that if only you hadn’t changed your number after that night. I kept calling, again and again, thinking I was going insane, the recording of your voice bleeding me dry.”

You felt your face go white, as all the blood had rushed down to your heart, nearly making it explode. Your vision went blurry, but you couldn’t tell why…

“Sixteen”, in the meantime, Andrew continued, mercilessly. “That’s the number of times I saw you around Paris last week, reading in that British Library, grabbing a lunch with your friends, running down the street all wet from the rain… I saw you sixteen times, Y/N, and I just couldn’t bring myself to come up and talk to you…”

“Have you been following me?” your trembling lips barely moved, as you stared at him, unblinking.

“That’s the only way I could still be close to you”, he nodded, looking down. “I haven’t finished though”, you shut your eyes, as if shielding yourself from seeing him. Yet you still heard him, his voice resonating in your ears.

“One”, it sounded like the final note of the heartbreaking symphony, which was destined to end at some point. You opened your eyes slowly, your damp eyelashes fluttering. He was very close now, if you stretched your hand, it would land squarely in the middle of his chest. He still smelled like that minty aftershave and salted caramel… and rum. Maybe vanilla…

“Want to take a wild guess what this number represents?” he asked you softly, his gaze unwavering. A second more and he was going to cup your face in those rough hands, and bring you closer, his lips making you forget you’d ever left… “I thought so,” he said, when you didn’t answer. “That’s you, Y/N. You’re the one.”

Deadly silence seemed to paralyze both of you, as it spread out in the entire café, more eloquent than a requiem at a funeral. You were pretty sure you were going to strangle yourself, your throat clenching as you fought for breath. 

Andrew was two weeks and a day late. 

For a brief instant, you couldn’t help but wonder, watching your own reflection in his soft brown eyes. You wondered when he realized he needed you. You wondered how it happened. But mostly you wondered… would it have ended differently if he just loved you enough to come to that empty VIP lounge in the LAX airport, keeping his promise…

All of the sudden you heard a familiar deep voice penetrate the absolute stillness, life rushing back into your veins at the sound of it.

“Is everything all right, beautiful?”

You cleared your throat, turning your head to your right almost automatically. With his leather jacket completely drenched, small drops of water resting on his cheekbones, Ben Barnes placed a hand on your shoulder, his eyes searching your face.

Standing out there in the rainstorm, waiting, he must have wondered what was taking you so long.

“Yes,” you answered a little too quickly, smiling at him in a shaken kind of way. Your hand flew up to cover his, the one in which he clutched his helmet, causing you to turn your entire body towards him. His closeness seemed to sober you up as you lowered your head, taking a long breath.

“Just ran into an old friend”, you looked up at him, an uneasy smile decorating your lips. “Ben, this is Andrew”, you motioned towards Garfield, standing in between the two of them now. “Andrew, this is Ben… Although I suspect you might have already met,” the lump in your throat refused to dissolve, so your words came out blurred and hectic. “The coffee is taken care of,” you smiled at Ben again, but he didn’t seem to notice, staring at Garfield’s pale face. Barnes’ lips were a thin line, almost invisible. The way his jaw tensed didn’t escape your attention. 

“Nice to have met you, Andrew”, Ben said, his voice low. 

“Yeah, the pleasure’s mine”, you heard Garfield mutter. You avoided his stare, tears still pooling in your eyes, as you tucked a damp strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Are you ready to go then?” Ben inquired, looking at you expectantly. You nodded at him, finally taking control of your emotions. 

“Yes,” your reply was firm and almost cheerful. “I’m right behind you. I guess I’ll be seeing you at work, then, Andrew”, you both nodded at each other. There was nothing left to say.

As you walked away, the sound of your steps aligning with the rhythm of your heart, you counted your steps, small and heavy.

Twenty… Thirty… Forty-three…

Forty-fucking-three thumps on the wooden floors.

That was all it took for you and Andrew to go back to where you started: complete and utter strangers, sharing a handful of memories, which would eventually fade, just like the echo of your steps in a deserted café…