#chunky gold heart

[pearlsgirls]

Chunky Gold Dangle Earrings Mother Of Pearl Chunky Gold Earrings Heart Drop Earrings Chunky Round Dangle Earrings PRODUCT DESCRIPTION: CHUNKY GOLD MOTHER OF PEARL DROP EARRINGS ♥️ Stainless Steel Stud ♥️Mother of Pearl ♥️HONESTLY HANDCRFATED ! All of the jewellry is handcrafted by myself in my little PEARLS&GIRLS studio and not just bought and re-saled :) ♥️PACKED IN BEAUTIFUL BOX🎁 All items will be sent in a beautiful sturdy box with Pearls&Girls logo:) ♥️COMES WITH A GIFT Beautiful jewellery gift with every order! ♥️DISPATCH & DELIVERY TIMES All items are made to order. It usually takes 2-3 working days to prepare and ship an order. ♥️SHIPPING INFORMATION ALL ORDERS SHIP WORLDWIDE FOR FREE ! EUROPE -5 -7working days USA- approx. 7 working days REST OF THE WORLD - Usually arrives in 5-12 business days *Please, upgrade your delivery option if you need tracking for your parcel.* ♥️CONTACT Thank you so much for visiting! please feel free to drop me a message should you have any questions:) ♥️SOCIAL MEDIA For more jewelry and to join my newsletter you can find me on my website www.pearlsandgirls.com ♥️REFUNDS & EXCHANGES I always happy to assist and try my best to make my clients smile! I am offering hassle free refunds & exchanges in case of damaged items

[hauntingblue]

You guys think the one piece movies are on letterboxd?

[dreamyprinx]

gonna redesign this look somewhat as well

[theirprofoundbond]

Did a glittery Barbie-pink manicure to go see the Barbie movie! ✨

As a nail polish enthusiast I feel obligated to list my products (1 coat of each):

Rimmel London Nail Nurse Base Coat

Sinful Colors Pink Forever (I don't think they make this one anymore 💀 But it's the PERFECT Barbie pink!)

Sinful Colors Pinky Glitter

Rimmel London 5-in-1 Nail Base and Top Coat

I've been trying out a new nail shape lately—it's a little pointed, a very slight claw. I really like it!

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Update on my eics outfit planning....... I think I have picked an exact khaki skirt as long as it doesn't go out of stock 💀 also. Mesh mock neck patchwork-ish red/pink/white shirt. With a red corset. Leaning towards tan chunky sneakers ??? Some kind of cool lacey socks.... perhaps a bow hair clip

[that-one-i-think]

Me having a crush on hellboy as a child really influenced my type of men, huh.

[lamaery]

Looking for a stormy or colorful summer beach read? @priscellie and Ihad way too much fun creating some romance novel versions of Rhythm of War and Warbreaker. I made the illustrations and Priscillie made them look like actual books – beautifully ridiculous, curly typography, mock-up and all. I hope that there will be more :D

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Image description: (by Priscillie) Photomanipulation of two battered paperback pulp romance novels that look straight out of a thrift store bargain bin in the 1980s. The books are RHYTHM OF WAR and WARBREAKER by Sandra Branderson. RHYTHM OF WAR features an illustration of Navani and Raboniel experimenting with light, Raboniel looming behind Navani and leaning in, their faces almost touching. Raboniel streams voidlight from her image-left hand, which travels like lightning through Navani's tuning fork and into the sphere in Navani's gloved safehand. It's the primary source of light in the scene, and the background is nothing but murky darkness. Raboniel focuses intently, her red eyes alien and unknowable, as she focuses on her work. One of Navani's unkempt locks of hair just brushes the corner of Raboniel's mouth, and I'm not normal about it. Navani looks like she's gone three days without changing clothes and that she's slept in her hairstyle a similar number of nights. The collar of her havah is open, revealing her collarbones. Her expression is a mix of amazement, fear, and exhaustion, her mouth slightly open and her head tilted back slightly. Her face is lit from below by their experiment. The title and author's name are angled at a sharp diagonal, with strong capital letters and the occasional flourish. At the top is the tagline "In the Heart of War... Passion and Honor are Fused!" In one corner is some publication information, with a little logo of a seal and the words "A 'Sealed With a Kiss' Paperback," the fake ISBN 17S-631-1123-1210 (the last two sets of numbers being our birthdays), and prices in America and Canada. The other book is Warbreaker, also by Sandra Branderson. The illustration depicts Susebron and Siri in a ridiculously overblown, windswept Fabio-style cover, with a shirtless Susebron holding Siri so she's half sitting on his chest, one knee up with her thigh along his chest, her legs off to one side, and with her body twisted so she's facing him with her upper body, leaning down to him, a breath away from kissing him. She's wearing a teal dress with a Mesoamerican vibe that reveals her midriff and leaves her shoulders bare, but with a long train that blows off to the side. Her arms are painted in looping gold shapes. Her hair is blonde for most of its length, but it's beginning to change to a vivid red at the scalp. It's wrapped in teal ribbon to match her dress. Susebron has long, sleek black hair caught by the wind, chunky gold earrings and a slim gold cuff at his upper arm, and is wrapped in long white strips of awakened cloth that snake through the image in an energetic explosion of fabric. He gazes at her in handsome adoration and abandon, and she gazes back in love tempered by concern. The title has the same diagonal and italicized design with the same typeface and flourishes, but the title is jazzed up with shimmery, iridescent type. At the top is the tagling "She was forced to marry a god... Then she took his breath away!"

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine how thick the tension is between ex-husband Geto and you, his hot, rich nepo baby ex with whom he went from enemies to lovers and now back to enemies.

"You're demoting my student?!" Suguru asks in disbelief.

You're seated in his Tokyo Jujutsu High office on the other side of the desk. Legs folded, nails perfectly manicured, pantsuit custom-made - you are the very picture of post-divorce vengeance.

There was no hiding the extra moment his stare fixed on you when you'd walked in.

"No, babe, I'm not. The higher ups are," you reply and your ex's eye twitches. He hated being called pet names he deemed 'juvenile' even while you were together, preferring more elegance like 'my love' or 'darling' or 'sweetheart.' Of course, now you call him babe to spite him.

"You're shitting me," he says.

You shrug and sort of feel bad for the young sorcerer getting demoted, but not that bad. "What do you want me to do, Suguru? Your little pet project has needed to get bailed out of her last three missions. Maybe go have a talk with her, find out what's her damage, and then we could be back in business."

Suguru can't exactly argue with the facts. He just gives you a scathing look and signs the paper you need to archive. The moment he finishes the last stroke of his name, he waves you off.

"Go on and finish your other chores your daddy sent you on." And of course, he has to take a jab at you in return. "Sweetheart." His actual nickname for you when you were together. It made you blush back then, and now your face turns red for an entirely different reason.

Rolling your eyes, you snatch up the paperwork, making sure your sleeve rides up when you grab it. On your wrist is a chunky gold bracelet with a half dozen custom charms on it. You made sure to wear something he couldn't help but comment on. His gaze locks onto it, as you predicted.

"That doesn't look like something you'd buy for yourself." Regret briefly flashes across his face once he realizes the opening he just gave you.

"Oh yeah," you say casually and move around the desk to stand in front of him. "That Kamo Clan guy, the one that was a few years ahead of us? He's been sending me little gifts lately. I guess he's finally on the marriage market. But if you like the bracelet so much, here."

You unzip his jacket and slowly run your hand from his collarbone down to his pec. Suguru stares into your soul the whole way down. Even through the fabric of his dress shirt, his skin is hot to the touch. It's summer, and you can just imagine the pretty tan he's sporting underneath. But that's a thought for another time. Now you need him to suffer a bit.

Tucking the bracelet into his shirt pocket, you withdraw your hand and walk towards the door like nothing happened.

"Bye, Suguru!" you cheer with a little finger wiggle.

Your ex-husband, who's desperately trying to blink the dark look out of his eyes, glares at you whilst splayed out in his chair with his jacket wide open.

"I hate you," he says.

You give Suguru a hand heart and leave his office.

First, y'all got pining, self-sacrificial ex-husband Gojo and his formerly feisty ex-wife who still love each other, now please enjoy this sample of ex-husband Geto and his hot, rich nepo baby ex-wife who plays "The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived" on repeat whenever she's about to go see him

[Masterlist]

[rmadridcore]

The Perfect Pair

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Requested

Summary: You and Jude attend his teammate’s documentary premiere, sharing affectionate moments and inside jokes.

Word Count: 1.6K

Masterlist

Author’s note: Hii 😍 this is the first request I got and here it is. Hope you like it anon, let me know your thoughts! Also, if any of you have any fic requests, they’re currently open 🫡❤️

——————————————————————————

Jude was still absorbed in the mirror, meticulously adjusting the gold chains on his white blazer for what seemed like the hundredth time. He leaned in closer, fixing the details around his collar with an intense focus, only to sigh as he took a step back, seemingly still dissatisfied.

“Need any help?” you offered from the edge of the bed, where you’d been patiently waiting for a while now, amused by how the roles had reversed. Typically, he was the one rolling his eyes or letting out exasperated sighs while you perfected your look, but tonight it was his turn, and it made you grin. Jude, the perfectionist.

“Nope, I think I’ve got this,” he said, though he still cast one last look in the mirror. Sighing playfully, you got to your feet, heading toward the door as he finally decided he was ready. Following you, his hand naturally found its place at your lower back, a familiar, grounding gesture.

But, true to form, Jude stopped just shy of the hallway, casting one more glance at himself in the mirror, reaching up to fuss with his hair.

With a laugh, you gently tugged his arm. “Come on, pretty boy; Thibaut’s premiere won’t wait for you,” you teased, practically nudging him out of the house. He chuckled, letting you pull him forward.

“Easy there, woman.” He shot you a mischievous smile, taking the hint. “You’re determined, huh?”

“Well, one of us has to be!” you shot back, a smirk on your lips. Finally, you both slid into the backseat of the car, where Jude wasted no time grabbing your hand, pressing a soft kiss to it before settling it on his lap. He didn’t let go, instead lacing your fingers through his, an automatic, tender gesture that never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“You’re actually making me feel underdressed,” you quipped, admiring his outfit. His white blazer, adorned with gold chains, was stunning — daring but elegant, and perfectly Jude. Your black slip dress and chunky gold jewelry matched his look subtly, but next to him, you felt almost modest.

He leaned in, his eyes gleaming with admiration. “Are you kidding? Even in sweatpants with your hair messy, you’d be the one stealing the show.” He lifted your hand to his lips once more, letting his kiss linger, his gaze conveying warmth and adoration. “You’ll have all eyes on you tonight, I’m sure of it.”

You smiled softly, your heart swelling as you looked back at him. “We’ll share the spotlight, then. You kind of have a way of commanding a room too, you know?”

Jude laughed, his eyes dancing with humor. “Guess we have that in common.”

As you arrived at the venue, the energy was electric, with photographers and fans milling about. Inside, you spotted some of Jude’s teammates with their partners, each looking like they were attending a completely different event. Jude’s grin widened when he spotted Kylian in a casual jacket and jeans combo, Rodrygo in a bold silk shirt, and some of the other guys in wildly different styles. It was the perfect example of when the friend group skips the “What are we wearing?” conversation.

“Talk about no dress code,” Jude whispered to you with a laugh, shaking his head.

Finally, it was time for the red carpet. Jude walked out beside you, smiling and waving as you made your way along the velvet ropes. When you reached the photographers, he wrapped an arm around your waist, drawing you close. Jude had no intention of hiding how smitten he was, and the cameras seemed to love it. He tilted his head down, pressing his cheek against your temple as the flashes went off.

The red carpet is abuzz with flashing cameras and reporters calling out, all of them eager to get a good shot of Jude and you. As you step onto the carpet together, you feel his hand tighten around yours, pulling you just a little closer to his side. It’s a simple gesture, but with the crowd and the chaos, his closeness gives you a strange sense of calm.

“Jude, over here!” a photographer calls out, and Jude flashes a bright smile, giving a friendly wave before looking back at you, his eyes lighting up.

“You good?” he murmurs, leaning down just close enough that you catch the warmth of his breath.

“Yeah,” you laugh, feeling the blush rise to your cheeks. “But I think you’re the one they’re all here to see, superstar.”

“Not without you, I’m not,” he chuckles, his eyes softening as he looks down at you, and then, without missing a beat, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in for the photos. Jude’s arm is secure around you, and every time a photographer calls his name, he seems just as focused on making sure you’re smiling right there beside him.

“Now, give me your best smile,” he whispers with a teasing grin, nudging you playfully with his hip.

“I was smiling perfectly fine,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes. But you can’t help but laugh anyway, and the flashbulbs capture the moment.

After a few more shots, you instinctively step to the side, ready to let Jude have his solo photos. But the second he realizes you’ve moved away, he reaches out and catches your wrist, pulling you right back to his side.

“Oh, no, you’re not going anywhere,” he says with that smirk of his, his hand slipping from your wrist back to the small of your back.

“Jude,” you laugh, flustered. “They’re here for you!”

“Maybe so, but I’m here for you,” he says, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple. The flashes go wild as he does, and you catch the gleam in his eye as he realizes it.

“Don’t give them too much,” you murmur, laughing as he pulls you close enough that his cheek brushes yours.

“They should know who I’m with,” he replies, his voice softer now, but still that playful tone. “Besides, you make me look better.”

You laugh again, feeling that mix of nerves and warmth spread through you, and the photographers eat it up, the two of you sharing smiles and whispers that the cameras try to capture. His thumb rubs gently against your lower back as he holds you close, a soft, intimate gesture that you don’t even think he’s aware of.

The crowd calls his name again, and he takes one more photo with you by his side before pulling you just slightly to look at him. “All good?” he asks, tilting his head as if to check in, the sincerity in his eyes grounding you amidst all the chaos.

“All good,” you reply, giving him a nod. “But I’ll let you have your solo shot.”

“Not happening,” he replies, laughing as he keeps you right by his side.

And with his hand in yours and that grin on his face, you realize that there’s nowhere else either of you would rather be.

The premiere had gone off without a hitch. You’d both enjoyed the documentary, laughed and mingled with his teammates and their partners, and Jude, as always, had been the life of the evening. Now, sitting in the car with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, you feel the warmth of the night and the buzz of excitement slowly easing away into a comfortable, quiet intimacy.

You lean your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment as the city lights streak past outside. Jude’s hand rests lightly on your shoulder, his thumb tracing soft circles against the fabric of your dress. His warmth is familiar, grounding, and in the stillness, you feel a smile tug at the corner of your mouth.

“Tired?” he asks, his voice soft, and you nod without lifting your head, letting out a content sigh.

“It’s your fault, you know,” you tease, nudging him slightly. “You dragged me to the after party, and I ended up listening to you all argue about who was the best dressed for half the night.”

Jude chuckles, his hand moving to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. “Please, you know it was all about showing you off,” he says with a grin, glancing down at you. “And, by the way, I was clearly the best-dressed.”

“Oh, obviously,” you say with a laugh, turning your face toward him so that your nose brushes against his shoulder. “Though I think you’re just fishing for compliments at this point.”

“Maybe I am.” He squeezes your shoulder a bit tighter, leaning his head back to look at you more fully, his eyes softening as they meet yours. “But, hey, I had a pretty great date tonight.”

You feel the blush creep up your cheeks, and you roll your eyes, trying to brush off the flattery. “You say that because you’re biased.”

“No, I say it because it’s true,” he murmurs, his voice warm and sincere now, that teasing edge gone. He takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Best date I’ve had, actually. Thanks for coming with me, my love.”

The quiet honesty in his words makes your heart skip a beat. You tighten your grip on his hand, your smile growing as you gaze up at him. “Anytime, babe.”

He rests his cheek on the top of your head, pulling you closer, and the two of you sit in comfortable silence as the car glides through the night, your fingers entwined and your hearts in sync.

[r4spb3rr13s]

“what? surprised i’m smarter than you, bakugou?”

katsuki doesn’t have an answer.

the first day he saw you, you were striding past him towards the dorm room right next to his with mina hanging off your arm. you had thick sunglasses pushing your hair back, chunky gold hoops dangling from your lobes and a big, playboy bunny necklace resting between your tits.

he had to hold in the aggressive eye-roll when you introduced yourself to him with a sly grin. your lips were glittery, baby pink and looked soft- no, they didn’t, what?

he’d stared at your hand and went into his room without a word.

his night was spent listening to you and mina blast someone called ‘ayesha erotica’. he’d never wanted to blow someone’s speakers up more.

it unfortunately wasn’t the last he’d seen of you- no, you decided to start popping up everywhere. it’s almost like you were trying to get on his nerves. that’s how katsuki felt anyways.

he would be leaving his lecture, and you were strutting past in the denim shorts held around your hips with a chunky belt. your belly ring glinted in the sun, and the click clack of your heeled boots made the zip of your ‘juicy’ hoodie slip down with every step.

he hated to say it, but he froze in the doorway and watched the entire way you walked.

then he snapped himself out of it and hurried away like an embarrassed schoolgirl.

but then it happened again- this time, you were in flared leggings and a tube top, platform sandals showing off your painted toes - katsuki noticed they matched your nails.

you’d been talking to mina, and noticed him staring, so you waggled your fingers at him.

he flipped you off.

it was the start to a beautiful friendship, historians would say.

when the pink girl brought you to one of their parties, katsuki dropped his head into his hands and tried his best not to groan. you, with your dumb smile, stood in a tiny halter-neck dress.

your smile didn’t bother katsuki the most that night, though - it was more the fact hanta and denki had taken it upon themselves to sandwich you in between them.

but he watched you- you with your big, wide eyes, your stupid giggles and you slapping their chests and telling them to ‘stooooppp!’

it really pissed him off.

how could you be so dumb? it was obvious what they were doing, and everyone knew they were fucking whores-

why was he so mad?

he shut himself in his room for a week after that.

so when he saw you and mina stood outside your professor’s office holding pieces of paper, katsuki didn’t know what to think.

oh god, what if you started crying at your grade? fuck- he just needed to walk away and avoid your blubbering-

“bakugou!! come look at y/n’s essay!” mina yelled.

his shoulders dropped, and he prepared himself to pretend to be nice - it took so much energy to pretend to be nice for katsuki!

but still, he didn’t want to make your brows furrow, or eyes fill with tears. he didn’t fucking know why. he just didn’t, okay?

so he trudges over… and you’re grinning, from ear to ear. you’re in your typical attire - a tiny cami holding you in and a zebra print skirt cutting off way too high to be deemed appropriate for school.

he wasn’t really complaining though, because every flash of skin made his heart punch his chest.

you thrust the paper into his hands, and he grunts, giving you a little glare.

you stick your tongue out at him, but he starts to read.

and… it’s amazing?

it’s well written, the paragraphs flow, your topic is so interesting and something katsuki would have never even begun to think about-

and as he reaches the last page, he looks at the mark in red pen.

100/100.

his jaw drops, and it must have been obvious because you let out a snort.

“what? surprised i’m smarter than you, bakugou?”

and dumbly, he nods.

then he looks up and sees your frown. then he realises he nodded. then mina clears her throat.

“why are you surprised?”

he looks away and gives you your paper back. it’s obvious, really- but he can’t say that. it’s so douche-y… but he has been being a douche.

he dares to look back at you, and when he does, his heart plummets to his feet.

you’re stood with a hand on your hip, brow raised. you’re smart, beautiful and you have an attitude… katsuki stands there trying to piece it together.

you scoff and push the paper to his chest, “keep it. maybe you can learn a thing or two from it, katsuki.”

oh fuck.

he has a crush on you?

[pearlsgirls]

Chunky Rectangle Gold Drop Earrings Chunky Gold Rectangle Dangle Earrings Mother Of Pearl Gold Drop Earrings Heart Drop Gold Earrings PRODUCT DESCRIPTION: CHUNKY RECTANGLE MOTHER OF PEARL HEART EARRINGS ♥️Stainless Steel Rectangle Base ♥️Mother Of Pearl ♥️HONESTLY HANDCRFATED ! All of the jewellry is handcrafted by myself in my little PEARLS&GIRLS studio and not just bought and re-saled :) ♥️PACKED IN BEAUTIFUL BOX🎁 All items will be sent in a beautiful sturdy box with Pearls&Girls logo:) ♥️COMES WITH A GIFT Beautiful jewellery gift with every order! ♥️DISPATCH & DELIVERY TIMES All items are made to order. It usually takes 2-3 working days to prepare and ship an order. ♥️SHIPPING INFORMATION ALL ORDERS SHIP WORLDWIDE FOR FREE ! EUROPE -5 -7working days USA- approx. 7 working days REST OF THE WORLD - Usually arrives in 5-12 business days *Please, upgrade your delivery option if you need tracking for your parcel.* ♥️CONTACT Thank you so much for visiting! please feel free to drop me a message should you have any questions:) ♥️SOCIAL MEDIA For more jewelry and to join my newsletter you can find me on my website www.pearlsandgirls.com ♥️REFUNDS & EXCHANGES I always happy to assist and try my best to make my clients smile! I am offering hassle free refunds & exchanges in case of damaged items

[queenpiranhadon]

You all know the whole thing about how the Devil wears Prada and the Angel wears Dior??

Imagine there's this huge Prada x Dior collab event dedicated to this, except not only have two of the top fashion brands come together for this event, but they have some of Japan's favorite Pro Hero couples modeling for each.

Dior's cover features Pro Heroes Deku and Uravity, the two of them had been dating for a while now, closing in on 4 years together and all of Japan has been waiting for one of them to pop the question. They both look ethereal, elegant and majestic and above all, angelic, clad in pearly flowy white outfits.

Ochako's in an elegantly modest white satin dress, with the iconic Dior ribbon in her hair and soft white heels that pull the whole outfit together.

Izuku's in a classy white suit and almost makes it look like he's glowing - accentuating his soft and yet sharp features, along with pure white sneakers and a chain necklace with the brand's name emblazoned across it.

However, as angelic as Deku and Uravity looked, - it's nothing compared to you and Katsuki.

Where Izuku and Ochako had aimed for elegance, you and Katsuki angled towards badass.

The two of you - unlike Izuku and Ochako were more or less the veterans of Pro Hero dating life, having dated since the early UA days and being happily married for a good six years now.

You, in your striking red dress that basically dripped with a sign of power, paired with gorgeous red heels, your entire outfits basically the same shade as Katsuki's vibrant red eyes. Unlike Ochako, whose hair was done up in a stylish updo, yours was free, framing your beautiful face with a gold chain circling around your neck.

Katsuki couldn't take his eyes off of you, his eyes darkened and so enamored in you, drinking up your gorgeous form and relishing in the fact that you were his.

The whole world could see it, solely based on the photos that came out of the photoshoot, you perched so prettily in his lap, looking down at him with your lips slightly parted, nimble fingers touching the chain that laid against his collarbone, the same chain you wore.

He had chunky black Prada boots on, bold and abrasive, similar to his personality. His tie was undone, the silk hung around his shoulders, similar to how it was when the two of you still went to UA. His deep red shirt was slightly unbuttoned, exposing some of his chest, but his suit was a charcoal black, that contrasted his pale skin. He looked so delectable, so unbelievably sexy, it took all of your willpower to not kiss him senseless in front of all the cameras.

His vermillion eyes look up at you, only you, as if you're the only person in the world, and to him, in that moment, you might as well be. You were goddess-like, in every sense of the world, and Katsuki Bakugou, was yours, and yours only.

The Angel wears Dior and the Devil wears Prada, yes, but no one can say the Devil didn't have a heart after seeing the way you and Katsuki look at each other.

A/N: I'm sorry he's just so unbelievably FINE - this is kinda bad but whatever, just modeling with Katsuki while you're together and letting the world get a glimpse of how much you two love each other is just 😩

[b0neheadbvtch]

Yet to meet another metalhead butch, or femmes that genuinely like metalhead butches like me on here. Where are you all??

On the thicker side, not muscly, a buzz cut to mullet, then mullet to buzz cut. Wears nothing but black and white clothes, mainly black. Band tees/hoodies and vans/boots. Big chunky biker rings that are definitely for men. But socially awkward, autistic, quite shy, introverted, moody, but has a heart of gold for the right people/person. A loser. Nerdy.

Where? 🫡

[rillils]

🌸 wakanda stucky + rich

His mother was the first to warn him, back when Steve was knee-high to a grasshopper: sometimes, things simply don’t go the way you had planned them, or wanted them to go.

If he could have had it his way, he would have laid the world’s weight in gold on Bucky’s lap. But life has a wicked sense of humor, and so Steve comes to him just as he once was: with no home, no shield, nor a penny to his name. In fact, with nothing but the name itself, and a bad reputation attached to it.

Bucky has seen him like this before, Steve knows; it’s no more and no less than Steve had for most of their lives. He won’t scorn Steve for it.

This doesn’t stop Steve’s hands from shaking when he sits with Bucky by the hearth, late in the afternoon, with dirt from the garden under his fingernails, and the smallest of three tabby kittens waging a vicious war against the toe of his boot.

“The truth is,” he confesses softly, because after all he’s done, after all he’s seen in this ever fickle world of theirs, he’d rather swallow his pride now than waste another day waiting for the right time, and risk missing his chance all over again. “I’ve got nothing to offer you. Except for. Except for myself.”

Surprisingly, Bucky laughs. It’s not scornful, though: it’s a soft, a tender sound.

He sets his mending aside, and slips his hands into Steve’s own.

The palm of his flesh hand is rough and warm, and against his skin, Steve feels the calloused fingers of a man who’s been tending to soil and cattle day after day; a man who’s been spending his evenings whittling clumsily shaped animal figurines for the neighbors’ children out of scraps of firewood, just to watch them laugh in shrill delight at his misshapen dogs, at the oddly rectangular horse he attempted last week, and the chunky little block that was supposed to be a cat, but turned out bearing a remarkable resemblance to a piglet instead.

“You think that’s nothing,” Bucky rumbles, rubbing gentle circles on Steve’s knuckle with the pad of his thumb, “but it’s everything to me.” He finds Steve’s eyes, love written openly in each crease and dimple of his features, and the heart of the heart beating in Steve’s chest clenches with the sweetest pain of all. “You’re everything to me.”

The world, Steve wishes he had enough voice to whisper now, The whole world, the sun, the stars, I’d give it all to you.

He curls his fingers around Bucky’s, slipping to the edge of his seat to rest their foreheads together.

Here he was thinking his hands were empty, and yet – they’ve never felt so full before.

[submariini]

When Finland’s Käärijä took the stage at this year’s Eurovision, a star was instantly, explosively born. With an outrageous energy, infectious presence and that oh-so-catchy hook, the Vantaa-based rapper may not have won the contest but he certainly snatched the hearts of those in his home country and beyond. We ask Käärijä the million dollar question: what next?

[full article under the cut]

Last May, a peculiar frenzy engulfed Finland. Virtually all green foods – cucumbers, especially – were sold out from stores. Buildings across the land were bathed in vivid green lights. Social media brimmed with green-themed parties, while data obtained by Swedish fintech company Klarna showed a 570 per cent increase in the online sales of neon green shirts.

This phenomenon was all thanks to Käärijä, the rapper who represented Finland in the 2023 Eurovision Song Contest. His now-infamous, blazing green puff sleeve bolero – dreamt up by Finnish broadcasting company Yle’s costume design team and which he dons when performing the smash hit track ‘Cha Cha Cha’ – had taken on a life of its own, the lush hue uniting the entire nation amid the competition. “It was incredible to see it happen and so cool being part of it,” Käärijä says. “It wasn’t planned at all – it was the people who created the commotion. I’ll definitely never forget it.”

When we speak over Zoom, Käärijä, whose real name is Jere Pöyhönen, is lounging in his minimal apartment in Vantaa, a city just outside Helsinki. He appears on my screen shirtless, a chunky gold chain dangling on his neck. On his head sits a pastel turquoise cap adorned with little cat ears. As he gestures with his hands, I spot flashes of poison green nail varnish. Pöyhönen’s chosen attire, or lack thereof, is extremely fitting – he typically performs bare-chested (“It gets so hot during my gigs”) and his Instagram handle is @paidatonriehuja, or ‘shirtless rascal’.

Hot off a performance in western Finland, the 29-year-old is enjoying his first days off in a while. It’s been a sweltering summer of non-stop touring, with fans flocking to festivals and concerts nationwide to see his explosive live show. Things are not winding down either, with Käärijä heading off on his first-ever European tour this month. Some of these shows sold out in mere minutes, an indication of his immense international following. “It’s so exciting; I’m definitely jumping into a new territory with that tour,” Pöyhönen says. “But I don’t have any expectations – I’m just going to let everything happen organically rather than stressing about it.”

Although he created one of this year’s buzziest songs, the guy on my screen is humble and, save for his look, almost un assuming. I remark on the stark contrast to his fiery and flamboyant stage presence. “Through Käärijä, I get to channel all the craziness, quirkiness and hyperactivity I’ve had since I was a child,” Pöyhönen says, describing himself offstage as “just this ordinary dude”. Without delving into further details, he tells me that the name Käärijä (translating roughly to moneymaker) stems from a history with gambling. Despite the darkness of its origin, he notes that the moniker is to be taken with a grain of salt.

While it might seem like Käärijä exploded into the public consciousness from obscurity, Pöyhönen has a long journey in music behind him. Born in Helsinki but having spent most of his youth in Vantaa, he started dabbling in the medium at just three years old. Coming from a musical family (“My dad and big brother both play the guitar”), jamming sessions were commonplace in the Pöyhönen household, his instrument of choice being the drums. “I was playing with pots and spoons before I got a set of those plastic kids’ drums,” he says. “When we moved to a bigger house, we built a band room downstairs where me and my brother spent a lot of time practising.”

At that time, rap music hadn’t yet entered Pöyhönen’s life; he was strictly a self-described “metal guy”. His older brother had instilled in him a love for the genre, particularly metal icons Rammstein. Upon starting high school, his musical taste broadened and he began listening to Eminem and popular Finnish rap groups Fintelligens and JVG. “Me and my friends were filming our own music videos to old rap songs, learning the words by heart,” Pöyhönen says. “It [making rap music] pretty much started as this humour thing I did with my mates.”

Encouraged by his loved ones, Pöyhönen began writing his own songs, still playing it for laughs. Turned out he had a knack for it. “Since I was little, I’ve been an avid storyteller – my imagination ran a little wilder than the rest of the kids’ at my school,” he says. “So when I started making music, I didn’t even need inspiration; I was able to whip up the lyrics from my head.”

But then, at 15, an unexpected turning point came by way of a severe sudden illness. Rushed to the hospital with ulcerative colitis, a chronic inflammatory bowel disease, Pöyhönen underwent emergency surgery to remove his colon. Had he not been treated immediately, the complications could have been fatal. “I was writing songs in the hospital – music became a source of strength for me,” he says. “I decided that if I make it through this, I’m going to give my all to music and be serious about it.”

After over a decade of hard work and countless hours in the studio, Käärijä released his first album, Fantastista (Fantastic), in 2020, but it would take three years for him to become a household name in Finland. After snapping up the top prize in Uuden Musiikin Kilpailu (the Finnish contest for new music) with his party anthem ‘Cha Cha Cha’, a song dedicated to a hedonistic night out fusing rap, electronic music and metal, he secured the coveted spot as his country’s entrant for the 2023 Eurovision, held in Liverpool. One of Pöyhönen’s craziest dreams had come true.

For Pöyhönen, Eurovision was “an amazing but immensely tough experience”. The event’s intense schedule and the little time carved out for practising surprised the artist. There was no room for errors or retakes once it was time for rehearsals. “They didn’t give much mercy,” he says. On the bright side, the long days filled with “lots of press conferences and waiting around” gave Pöyhönen a chance to get to know the other artists. “The group we had there was wonderful – there wasn’t a competitive atmosphere at all,” he says. One of the contestants he became especially close with was Sweden’s Loreen, with whom he exchanged numbers and promised to “meet up and talk about everything else but music”.

By the time the grand finale came, Käärijä’s explosive performance and infectious song had made him one of the favourites to win. Ultimately he came second, while Loreen nabbed first place. How did Pöyhönen handle the letdown? “It was a huge disappointment, but in the end, the feeling didn’t last long,” he says. “When I thought about how far I’d gotten, the incredible journey it was and all the new friends I made, I realised that these things are far more meaningful than winning.” Plus, he still achieved something major: ‘Cha Cha Cha’ made history as the first ever Finnish song to reach Spotify’s global most-listened charts. The track’s reach proved to Pöyhönen that language doesn’t matter; it’s all about creating a singular, infectious sound: “The mouth is just as much of an instrument as the piano or the guitar is,” he says.

Having made history, I ask Pöyhönen if he felt any pressure after the Eurovision bubble had burst. “Of course there are the thoughts of ‘what now?’ and ‘is this going to be it, will anyone be interested anymore next year?’ – I’m aware that the hype won’t last forever,” he says. “But I’m onto creating the next thing, trying not to feel any pressure for future releases. I haven’t done that before, so why would I do that now?”

Pöyhönen hints at a new album dropping sometime next year, but in the meantime, he’s enjoying the attention – including his Vogue Scandinavia debut. Shot at the extraordinary home of the late interior architect Antti Nurmesniemi and his wife, textile artist Vuokko Nurmesniemi, we find the space where Pöyhönen and Käärijä meet, the quiet confidence mingling with that more-is-more persona.

And while Käärijä might develop as a character (“I want to show that he’s more than just a bolero chap”), he’s adamant that he will stay true to his music and keep singing in Finnish, despite the sudden international attention. “In the end, I’m doing this for myself,” he says. “Also, why change something that works?”

Photographer: Karoliina Bärlund Stylist: Sanna Silander Talent: Käärijä Hair Stylist and Makeup Artist: Neea Kuurne Photographer Assistant: Milja Laakso Stylist Assistant: Nelli Korhonen