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damiannasworld · 4 hours
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I was going through my phone and found the first ever picture I have taken of Jere (Cafe Pori Jazz, Pori 8.7.23)
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Then I wondered what is the latest one. I was in JO Tallinn gig but didn't take any pictures of him, only video and this is my gif from the latest video I have (Helitehas, Tallinn 5.3.24)
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And now I'm curious, those of you who have seen him what are your first and latest pictures/videos of him? I'd like to see!
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damiannasworld · 4 hours
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I’m back with my Bojan during Demoni agenda, this time at Kultsa 1.0
x/x
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damiannasworld · 4 hours
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Umazane Misli karaoke - Nace version
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damiannasworld · 4 hours
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At Circolo Magnolia, Milan 27.3.2024 deangrainger.jpg ig stories 28.3.2024
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damiannasworld · 4 hours
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Jure singing Umazane Misli
27/3/24 - Milan, IT (mine)
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damiannasworld · 4 hours
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Kris singing Umazane Misli
27/3/24 - Milan, IT (mine)
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damiannasworld · 4 hours
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Nace singing Umazane Misli
27/3/24 - Milan, IT (mine)
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damiannasworld · 4 hours
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Jan “singing Umazane Misli
27/3/24 - Milan, IT (mine)
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damiannasworld · 4 hours
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he’s just a girl/boy/whatever
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27/3/24 - Milan, IT (mine)
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damiannasworld · 4 hours
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I love his smile so much, and I think Jan does too making Nace laugh so much 🥰🥰🥰 (I wonder what he was saying.)
München, 26.03.2024
📸: me (don't repost to another site)
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damiannasworld · 4 hours
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Jan and Nace being adorable together part 1
I love them so much! 😭💗
München, 26.03.2024
📸: me (don't repost to another site)
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damiannasworld · 4 hours
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THE BAND SINGING UMAZANE MISLI [x]
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damiannasworld · 4 hours
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The way my brain fucking tingles when these guys say the word ”suomi”. Scietists should study that
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damiannasworld · 12 hours
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29 for bojere ❤
Apologies for the delay, Anon, but thank you for the prompt and I hope you enjoy it! (It got very long...)
Waking up the morning after their second Helsinki gig was never going to be a fun experience, but having that knowledge didn’t make it any easier. Bojan groaned, resisting the urge to pull the pillow over his head and block out everything until he ran out of time, and reached for his phone. 9 am. OK, so that was something at least – their ferry wasn’t until the early afternoon, so there was still time before he needed to throw everything in his suitcase and leave Finland behind. Leave Jere behind, you mean, a snide little voice needled him in the back of his mind. Bojan dropped his phone back on the bedside table and at least allowed himself to bury his face in the pillow instead. The other side of the bed was empty but judging by the rattling and clanking coming from next door, Jere was in the kitchen. He’s talking to himself – muttering, really – in that way that Bojan’s learned that he does, narrating his own life in rolling Finnish as he goes about his day. Bojan doesn't do well alone – never has, truth be told – and he knows it. It's why his time as a solo artist was so short lived, and why he'd asked Kris to take Martin’s old room when he moved in with his partner. There's just something comforting about having someone else nearby, even when they're in the next room doing their own thing. For a moment, he lets his mind wander; lets himself believe that this is just a normal morning in a normal day, with nowhere they need to be an nothing they need to do. He can follow Jere into the kitchen, waste time trading lazy kisses with no urgency for them to go further, share a leisurely breakfast just the two of them. They can take a stroll together, binge Netflix, order a takeaway, just enjoy all the time they have together doing the most mundane things. The door creaks, snapping him out of it. Of course, none of that can happen – he's got somewhere to be. Sighing, he turns to look round at Jere, who’s shuffling into the room with a mug in each hand. “Bojan, you're awake.” He pulls himself up so he's sitting against the headboard and nods. The sight of Jere swamped in a hockey shirt and sweatpants, hair ruffled and feet bare, is so domestic that it brings a lump to his throat and he doesn't quite trust himself to speak. If Jere notices he says nothing. He passes Bojan one of the mugs, the one patterned with gaudy orange and pink flowers. He’d presented Bojan with it in the autumn, proudly announcing “It is you” before tripping over the word “shagadelic” three times and dissolving into laughter. The fact that he's remembered and kept this eyesore of a mug safe for his return months and an apartment move later – that it wasn't just a one-off joke – makes his throat hurt even more. For a long moment he just focuses on sipping his scalding coffee and Jere does the same. The silence is almost peaceful, almost not loaded. It’s Jere who breaks it. “I tell Joker guys I get you back in one piece.” Bojan remembers – he was there for every one of the increasingly dramatic promises that Jere had made to his bandmates at the end of each night they’d been in Helsinki. It had started simply enough, swearing that he’d make sure Bojan didn’t spend all night out and about at the city’s clubs (accomplished – they’d gone straight back to Jere’s still-new-to-Bojan apartment) and that he’d force him to abide by vocal rest (debatable – it was probably for the best they’d not run into any of Jere’s neighbours so far), but had gradually morphed into a list of all the possible risks Jere would guard him from, from hysterical fans to rampaging moose to – at Jure’s particular insistence – rabid Moomins.
“So, I feed you and bring you back to hotel. All laundry in case this time, yes?”
Bojan nods again, sipping at his coffee. He’d accepted his errant clothes back from Jere at the start of the trip with just as much ceremony as they’d been presented to him and stowed them away safely already. Of course, if one of Jere’s t-shirts had happened to bury itself in there underneath everything else, he wasn’t going to mention it. "And then me and Hӓӓrijӓ bring you all to ferry to make sure you are there OK. Good plan, yes?” He can see from the corner of his vision that Jere is ducking slightly, trying to catch his eye, and has no choice but to look up. It makes it all the worse, just as he’d known it would. He wonders if Jere will look so calm when they say goodbye. Probably not, even in public at the port; definitely not when they say their real goodbye to each other here before stepping out of the front door. He’s got past evidence to go off of, of course, and knows as soon as he lets everything show in his face he won’t be able to stop. So he just doesn’t. “But then I think you have not been to Tallinn before.” Jere carries on, slow and deliberate and too thoughtful. He’s not quite tapping his chin in consideration, but it’s a close call. “Maybe you not know your way around. You don’t find venue, you miss gig, fans angry, end of band. Not good. Bojan is too pretty not to be star.”
Despite everything, Bojan feels the tug of a smile at the corner of his lips. Jere having an absurd tangent for all occasions is nothing new to him – it was one of the first things that had drawn him to him at the pre-parties, even if the earliest ones had mainly been through gestures and miming – but he can’t help but be amused by it each and every time.
Then Jere is suddenly pulling his phone out from his pocket, swiping through it as he reaches out to put his mug on the bedside table. It takes him a moment to find what he’s looking for, but as soon as he lands on it he’s passing the phone to Bojan with a triumphant “So, I book this.” Bojan blinks at the screen, still cradling his coffee in one hand. It’s a ferry ticket. “You’re coming with us to Tallinn?” It’s there in black and white in front of him, but he can’t help his words still coming out as a question. He checks the timing of the email and sees it came through yesterday just before the end of their gig. It’s clearly a spur of the moment decision and Bojan loves him for it. “Yes, yes. I will be guide for you, me and Hӓӓrijӓ. Show you all the best kebab van and kareoke.” His face splits into a full-blown grin as he passes back the phone. “Alika’s going to be happy to see you too.” Jere nods enthusiastically. “Yes, I think maybe we get big cake to celebrate. And I will jump out for surprise!” And suddenly, with their goodbye pushed back – only by a day, just forty eight hours, but forty eight more hours than we had just a moment ago – it’s so easy to dissolve into laughter, to lose themselves in such a ridiculous idea, to just be them. Bojan is a split second away from asking if Jere knows any Estonian bakers who might be willing and able to whip up a giant decoy cake at such short notice when suddenly Jere gets himself under control enough to swipe again through his phone and hold it out. “But then also I book this.” He accepts the phone again, glances down at the screen and promptly freezes. He feels lightheaded all of a sudden, barely able to make out anything past ‘Helsinki-Vantaa’, ‘Ljubljana’, and ‘5 May’. “Jere, what – ” His voice catches in his throat and all he can do is stare at him, wide-eyed. For his part, Jere is deliberately nonchalant, but Bojan can see the tension in his shoulders blaring his nervousness out to the whole world. “I have album to work on, but only one gig. I check with the guys and they say you have time then. But is just me, not Hӓӓrijӓ, so maybe they are disappointed.” “I can’t believe it – I – ” He shakes his head. There’s too much to say to be able to wrangle it into a sentence or two. “I want this to work. I want that we know when we will see each other, not just...” Jere seems to run out of words, resorting to scrunching up his face and gesturing vaguely, but Bojan knows what he means. “And you come here now three times. I do not make it to London – ” “That’s not your fault, you were busy.” The words may be true and well-worn by now through all the times he’s repeated them to himself and others, but they still weigh heavily in Bojan’s mouth as he swallows down the lingering disappointment he can see reflected in Jere’s face. “But still, I do not come. I do not want you to think I don’t care. I want I see you in your home and be part of your life.” He hesitates slightly, then continues, quieter and less certain, “If... if that is OK.” “OK?” Bojan can’t believe those are actual words that have just left the other man’s mouth. “Jere, that’s... I... yes, I want that too. I just can’t believe it.” Jere’s phone slips from Bojan’s hand as he starts forward, hands cupping Jere’s face and reeling him in for a kiss that tastes of sleep and coffee and him all at once. It ends up not being one kiss so much as several, pressed in quick succession against Jere’s mouth as he sighs and relaxes into Bojan, combing his hair back and trailing down his neck. “I promise this is not the only time.” he murmurs against Bojan’s lips when they part for a second, foreheads pressed together. Their next kiss is deeper, starting slower than the others though it doesn’t stay that way for long as Bojan pulls Jere down again to the mattress with him. Their coffee grows cold on the bedside table, but neither of them notice.
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damiannasworld · 14 hours
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...who gave him the hat 😂
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damiannasworld · 14 hours
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I love this part from this interview Bojan did right after he came from Finland cause I can hear him thinking if he had more fun when he partied with Jere until the morning or when he watched twilight with jere until the morning
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damiannasworld · 14 hours
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They got him and he knows it too
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