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@moscow-jackboot
Do you think you could write something about hozier dating a writer? Xx❤️
Sure! I’ll start working on it on Monday at the latest and it’ll be posted on my new blog which I’ve linked in my bio. I have a lot of studying to do this weekend :)
Important announcement!
This blog is a side blog but I wanted to make it its own account so I can manage asks, requests, and replies more easily, so I changed the url for this blog a little and my main blog is now moscowjackboot.tumblr.com. I’ve organized that page better and I’ll be posting on there from now on, so follow me and look for future posts on @moscowjackboot
I LOVE YOUR WRITING
Thank you!!!! :)))
Okay so I just spent about an hour picking and playing with a theme and making a mobile friendly masterlist and I still kind of hate my blog lol
after two hours i found one i really like and it turns out that it makes posts with hella pics bunch up and look bad FUCK
Okay so I just spent about an hour picking and playing with a theme and making a mobile friendly masterlist and I still kind of hate my blog lol
Masterlist
*Angst*
Someone Old
Love your writing! Its so beautiful 😍
Thank you so much!! I actually gasped and put my hand on my heart when i read this lol this means so much🥰
Someone Old
Plot: Y/n sees her ex-boyfriend, Andrew Hozier-Byrne almost 3 years after their breakup. Y/N and Andrew started dating around the Fall of 2011 and broke up in December of 2016 because Andrew couldn’t balance his career/touring and their relationship. Y/N initiated the breakup due to Andrew’s neglect. They are seeing each other for the first time since their breakup in this story, which is set around October of 2019. I plan on doing some more writing with this storyline, some of it before the breakup and some it of afterwards.
Word Count: ~2.3k
“Do your friends know you’re here?” Andrew asked you timidly.
You smiled. He knew your friends weren’t fond of him after the breakup. “No. I didn’t want to give them a chance to talk me out of it.”
He nodded and finished his whiskey, motioning to the bartender for another.
“What about yours?” You asked hesitantly, wanting you to fill the silence.
“Yeah. I wasn’t sure if I should go through with it.”
Ouch.
He noticed the pained look on your face caused by his words and tried to fix it. “Not because I didn’t want to see you. I really wanted to see you tonight. Maybe too much. I just wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to disrupt your life like this.”
“You’re not disrupting my life at all, Andrew,” you reassured him. You never imagined that you’d be spending a Monday night after work seeing your ex-boyfriend perform at a theater half an hour from your apartment, and then going out for drinks afterward. When Andrew texted you asking if you wanted to see him when he was in town for a show later that month, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You considered pretending to be sick when you woke up this morning. You were too nervous about seeing him again after almost three years of no contact between you two.
“I didn’t think it would be so slow here tonight,” you commented.
“Well, it is Monday,” he said with a shy smile. You noticed that not only had his face thinned out a little since 2016, but apparently, he’d done something to his teeth. They were perfectly straight now. How could you miss something so big?
“So why did you reach out to me? I mean, I’m glad you did, but what made you decide to call me after almost three years without talking?” you asked, shifting your body towards him.
“I couldn’t handle being in your city on another tour and not even trying to see you again. It would drive me fucking crazy.”
You knitted your eyebrows a little, pleasantly surprised by how candid his answer was.
“Did you want to talk about…?,” you trailed off, not wanting to say the words “the breakup.”
“Uh, yeah. There’s some stuff I never got to say. Is it… is it okay if I say it now?,” he asked you gently, not wanting to upset you.
“Better late than never,” you responded with a chuckle, which you were sure looked more like a grimace. He licked his lips and started talking.
“I ehm, I never wanted to hurt you. That...that truly wasn’t my intention. And I know that that sounds fucking ridiculous now, since how else could my behavior have affected you, you know? Ehm, of course, I hurt you. We were together for so many years, and we were so... intimate with each other.” He looked to you, cautious of his words. “And I don’t just mean sexually. You knew me inside and out. And I don’t think anyone can ever figure you out, but I think I was pretty close.” He smiled at you sheepishly. You chuckled and looked down shyly, your body filling up with the same feeling of warmth you’d felt the very first time you’d met Andrew all those years ago in university. You looked back up when you heard him speak again.
“I remember when we broke up, you asked me how I could throw you away after we’d shared so much of ourselves with each other….after we’d experienced so much life and-and... love together. And I just didn’t have an answer for you. And I hated that. I hated that so much. I hated that for you and I hated that for us. Because there’s never a good reason to not put somebody first when they’ve always been good to you. And you’re the one who got hurt because I was so focused on my career that I always let you —us— become my second priority. And losing you hurt for me too, but I earned that, you know?” The words rushed out of his mouth as if he’d been dying to say them for a long time.
You nodded, your eyes wide open, still absorbing every detail of his appearance after three years.
He continued. “Those were the consequences of my own actions. I always hated seeing you sad, or frustrated, or angry. And you felt all those things those last few months that we were together, and probably for months after. And I couldn’t fix it because I was the one who was making you feel that way.” He pursed his lips in thought.
“You never called.”
“Hm?,” He asked, raising his thick eyebrows. His green eyes looked so sweet and earnest. You’d always loved his eyes. They were the first eyes that made you understand the saying “the eyes are the window to the soul.”
“After we broke up. You just let me go. At first, I just thought you were giving me time to cool off, but then you didn’t try anymore. You never tried to get me back. You just let me walk out of your life and that really fucking hurt.”
“I didn’t think you’d take me back. And even if you did, I knew I didn’t deserve you again. You’re the most amazing person I have ever met and I absolutely destroyed everything we ever had. You deserved — deserve — someone who loves you too much to do what I did to you. And after all the shit I put you through, I just wanted you to be happy, and I knew I couldn’t do that for you anymore. I changed too much. I’d already been selfish and it tore us apart. I wasn’t going to be selfish again by asking to be in your life again when I didn’t have a place there.”
“That’s such a fucking cop-out. You could have made me happy if you just cared enough to try!,” you exclaimed, tears welling up. “Andrew, you said it yourself. We broke up because you stopped fucking caring. You stopped making me a priority. You treated me like shit. You would go on the road and you promised to call me every night and instead you left me by the phone crying myself to sleep wishing you would keep your promises. You would cancel trips to see me for gig offers or to record. The last year we were together, you forgot my birthday and our anniversary. You stopped caring, Andrew.” You waited a beat to verbalize how he’d made you feel all that time ago, amazed that you were able to keep yourself from raising your voice even if you were getting emotional. “I wasn’t important to you anymore.”
“Sweetheart, you were always important to me. I know I was kind of a shit boyfriend at the end, but you still meant the world to me.” Andrew said. You could see the heartache in his eyes. They were filled with tears too.
“Then why did you make me feel like I wasn’t?”
He sighed and looked down for a few moments, toying with the sleeves of his flannel shirt, something he’d always done when he was anxious. When he looked back up at you, a tear had fallen down his angular face. He closed his eyes and began to speak.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. And…honestly, I didn’t realize that I was making you feel that way until almost the end of our relationship. I was too caught up in my own stuff. I wanted to make you proud, and I thought that doing more shows and bigger tours would accomplish that. And that was fucking stupid,” he said, shaking his head. He sighed and opened his green eyes, looking into yours. “Because after we broke up, I had a lot of time to think, and I realized that I didn’t need to perform in front of thousands of people to make you proud. You loved me before I had all this shit.”
“I did.”
“And I swore to myself that once the tour ended I would make it all up to you. That I would come home to you and I would spend time with you and just love you the way I used to...the way that you needed me to.”
“How was I supposed to know that though, Andrew?”
“I don’t know. I should’ve told you. I realize that now. I stopped opening up to you like I used to. Ehm... we stopped opening up to each other.”
You didn’t say anything. You just stared at him. You didn’t know what to say. For the longest time, you’d wished he would admit his wrongdoings and take responsibility for everything. Now he was finally doing it and you didn’t know what to say. He seemed to close off a little in response to your hesitation. He cleared his throat and straightened up a little.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to come here. I just knew that if I didn’t I’d regret it forever. And I don’t want to live with any more regrets when it comes to you.” He paused, and held your gaze for a moment, as if to ask for permission to say more. You nodded slightly, urging him to continue. “I didn’t think you’d come. I-I didn’t think you’d answer my text. I thought you hated me,” he said gently, looking down.
“Oh, Andy,” you put your hand on his bare wrist, which was exposed by his sleeve that had ridden up. He looked up when you said his nickname. “I could never hate you. Never. Even when we’d just broken up, I didn’t hate you. In fact, I still loved you so so much. I wanted to hate you sometimes. It would’ve made getting over you a whole lot easier. But you don’t stop loving someone just because they hurt you.” You paused for a little bit, unsure about whether or not you wanted to say what you were thinking. You decided you would, because you didn’t want to regret anything about this night either. “I still love you,” you said moving your hand down to his.
“I still love you too, baby. So much. So fucking much,” he confessed, wrapping his large, pale hands around yours.
Your heart fluttered when he said those words. You hadn’t heard them in almost three years. You weren’t sure you’d ever hear them from him again, but hearing them sparked something in you.
“You do? I thought you moved on.”
“I never stopped loving you though. Moving on from you didn’t mean that I stopped loving you. It just meant that I learned to live without you. I still think about you all the time. I always wonder how you’re doing...how life is treating you. I miss everything about you, y/n. The big things, like how you always supported me and stood by me; and the little things, like the smell of your hair when you’d put your head on my chest before bed or watching you play with Elwood. Or the way you’d make me porridge, and how you’d always insist on calling it oatmeal. I even miss you hogging the bathroom getting ready even though I always thought you looked beautiful no matter what.”
“Well you don’t have to miss me anymore, Andy,” you said earnestly.
“What do you mean? You wanna do this again?”
You nodded, your hands still intertwined.
His entire demeanor changed. His emerald green eyes went from looking anxious to hopeful. He licked his lips and started searching for his next words. “I ,ehm, I won’t be in town again for a little while because we still have about another month of touring. But once it’s over, maybe I can spend some time here and we can just, ehm, catch up-“
You cut him off. “No I mean, I want to try this again. Us.”
He raised his eyebrows, his mouth slightly open in surprise.
His silence instantly made you regret the risk you took with your words. “I mean, only if you want to. If you don’t want to, or if you’re already seeing someone, then you can just forget I said anythi-“
“Of course I do, y/n.”
“Okay, then...good,” you said with a grin. “But Andy,” you paused, gathering your thoughts. He looked at you intently, leaning in slightly. “Things have to be different this time around. I mean it. If you don’t treat me right, I’m out the door for good this time.”
He nodded his head, his wild, post-show hair moving with him. “I know, darling. I learned my lesson. Trust me. I don’t want to mess things up this time around. I feel really lucky to be able to do what I do, but I was even luckier to have you.”
“You’re such a fucking cornball,” you said, laughing loudly, but melting inside. You smoothed your hair and looked around, trying to hide the fact that you couldn’t stop smiling. That’s when you noticed that there was hardly anyone left in the bar. Andrew seemed to notice as well.
“Should we...?” you both asked at the same time with a chuckle.
“Yeah we should probably get going,” you answered your own question, getting off the barstool.
“Is it okay if I do something first?,” he asked softly, his tone cautious.
“Yeah, of course,” you responded, wondering what he had in mind. Your curiosity was satisfied a few seconds later when he tenderly pulled you closer with one hand on your waist on and the other on your face. He leaned down, his eyes closing. You stood up on your toes, grateful that you’d chosen to wear your heels that not only made your legs look long, but made his lips that much easier to reach without straining. Everything fell into place for the first time since that December night three years ago as he put his perfect pink lips on yours.
“I missed you too, you know,” you whispered before kissing him again.
-
This is my first time writing any kind of fanfic. Constructive, respectful criticism and feedback is welcome and appreciated!
apparently hozier’s inspiration for jackboot jump was this quote from george orwell’s 1984 “If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face, forever.” and boy did he fucking deliver
When he played this in Chicago, he introduced it by saying ((along the lines of, it was a couple months ago forgive me))
You can make politics in music subtle, but there’s nothing subtle about the murder of protesters.
You can make politics in music subtle, but there’s nothing subtle about the murder of protesters.
hozier thinking his answers in interviews
everyone be quiet he’s thinking
📷Stefan Tivodar/@tivodar
Missing the daily tour updates... especially when they look like this..
I’m losing my mind hoziers explanation for moments silence is being on genius dot com and being like oh y’all want a song about oral sex???
can we all just take a moment to appreciate this sweater
once again, Facebook yields previously unseen photos
Serving you single, divorced dad realness - who sometimes plays with his buddies and their band at the local blues club after work, just to make ends meet while also blowing off some steam.
why would you do this to me
