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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

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World Cup VI

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adeventures Universe

Summary: It's heartbreaking

It's the worst kind of pain imaginable.

The kind of pain that lodges in a chest, in a throat, in a mind. The kind of pain that radiates throughout a body, weighing on someone, eating away at them until there's nothing left.

Eaten from the inside out.

Until there's nothing left but an empty husk of a person.

To be so close to a dream that will never be reached.

Not now.

Not ever.

It chokes someone from the inside, suffocating them until they can do nothing but accept their fate.

There's not much else to say about it.

The kind of pain that is only really experienced once in a lifetime.

The kind of pain only experienced in extra time of a football match as one last substitute is made.

The board goes up.

"On for number fourteen, number one for Sweden, Harder-Eriksson."

The final of a World Cup.

Sweden, two.

Spain, two.

And the worst person to take penalties against is subbed on.

"No," Talia says as she watches you run on," No, please. Please."

You'd taken a knock in the semifinals against Colombia, a bad one that had you sitting out most of the final.

Selfishly, Talia was glad for it.

The two goals she had scored wouldn't have gone in had you been standing between the sticks.

Had you been on in the beginning, there would have been no extra time.

You are the greatest goalkeeper in the world and you're never out of control in finals.

You thrive under the pressure, under the pressure of the whole world watching your every mood, under the pressure of Magda and Pernille's legacy.

You rise to the occasion every time.

You show why you are so sought after.

Extra time leaks away and the tears already fall as penalties are announced.

Your Sweden team isn't known for their penalty-taking abilities but it hardly matters. All it takes is one penalty to win.

One ball in the back of the net.

You can delay that for as long as you need to.

One goal to win a match.

One goal for a childhood dream to shatter.

One missed save to return to Spain as a World Champion.

But you have never let a penalty passed in your entire career.

Not at Linköping. Not at Arsenal. Not at Barcelona.

Not for Denmark. Not for Sweden.

No penalty has ever escaped you.

The shots are taken in quick succession.

You don't let any pass but neither does Spain's keeper.

The anticipation swells. The tension builds. The camera flashes to fans in the crowd.

To Patri, sitting in the stands with her hands clasped in front of her and a nervous look on her face. Talia has never seen her cousin so shaken before.

She cuts a striking picture against the complete calmness of Magda and Pernille when the camera switches again. They don't look worried in the slightest.

They've always been your biggest supporters, the biggest believers in your ability to do anything you set your mind to. They've seen the talent in you for years.

There is no reason for them to be worried.

Talia takes the ball, the last penalty for Spain.

She steps forward.

You come out of your goal, walking forward towards her until you're face to face.

The conflict is clear on your face.

To anyone else, you look deadly calm. Magda's feature on your face matches your mother's expression in the crowd but Talia can see through it.

The slight furrow of your brow, the downturn of the corner of your mouth. The way that you can't quite meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry," You say as she places the ball on the penalty spot.

"I know," Talia replies.

"I am really sorry, my love. I...I didn't want it to end like this."

"Don't be. Go do what you do best."

Talia's dreams of a World Cup slip through her fingers in an instant. She usually shoots right, in the top corner. This time though, she'll shoot left to the bottom.

Pernille sits up in the stands as you back away from Talia, returning to your line.

The stadium holds its breath.

A home World Cup win would mean the world to Sweden. To defeat the hosts would mean the world to Spain.

But you stand in their way.

A formidable force between the sticks with more experience than most your age and an unshakeable spirit that intimidates by just your mere presence on the pitch.

"She's got this," Magda whispers to her, clasping Pernille's hand tight," Even if it is Talia."

The stadium ripples with anticipation, shouts escaping throats as Talia lets the ball fly...

Your familiar red jersey moves, your black gloves reaching out.

Your body crashes to the ground.

A millisecond too late and the ball would have gone in.

Your fingertips manage to brush it away though, forcing it away from your line.

The knock to Spain's confidence is big.

It can be felt all around the stadium and just a box away, Pernille sees Patri bury her head in her hands.

Sweden's last penalty is taken quickly.

Scored even quicker by your captain.

A title defended on home soil. The triumph of Sweden over Spain.

The crowd is electric and Magda pumps her fist into the air, screaming like she'd just won this herself and Pernille hauls herself out of her seat to head down to the barriers with her wife to greet you.

The crowd is nothing compared to the roaring in Talia's ears as that pain settles into her bones and gnaws away at her muscles.

She falls to the floor, breathing in a ragged breath as a childhood dream slips away from her.

"I'm sorry," She can hear over her sobs," My love, I'm so sorry."

Familiar arms wrap around her. A familiar smell filling her senses and she grabs onto a familiar red jersey, pulling at it and forcing herself even closer.

"Go," She says," And celebrate."

"No," You reply, sitting down next to her and guiding her head to your shoulder where she could cry without cameras watching her," I'm staying right here."

"Your mothers-"

"Can wait," You insist," I want to be here. With you."

You've singlehandedly ruined Natalia's dreams. You had dangled a World Cup in her face and snatched it away again.

It was so close.

She was so close to being the first person to ever score a penalty against you.

Mere inches sat between her and the World Cup.

But you'd ruined it. You anticipated her change. You pushed away her penalty.

Last time, you'd scored Sweden's only goal. This year, you'd saved all of Spain's penalties.

You are Sweden's hero. Sweden's golden girl. Sweden's vice-captain and the greatest goalkeeper they've ever produced.

There is no hope of competing against you.

A World Cup won and a World Cup lost.

Magda and Pernille wait by the barrier. Talia can see them, ready to celebrate with you.

But you don't go anywhere.

You just hold her as she cries.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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astrobiscuits · 8 months

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Unknown asteroids #1

🦭Adorno (21029) – of Spanish origin; means to decorate/embellish; (for females only) if Sun, Mars, Saturn or the Descendant are badly aspected by this asteroid in the natal chart, it can indicate being “objectified” by men; if one of the mentioned planets/angle are positively aspected by this asteroid, it can indicate fighting for women's rights when it comes to the objectification of women

🦭Advincula (23017) – of Latin origin; denotes someone advanced in a certain skill/job/life experiences OR someone who can advance a certain field

🦭Aenna (1155) – of Hebrew origin; means favor/grace, God has favored me; denotes someone getting blessed by a higher force

🦭Aemilia (159) – of Latin origin; means industrious; denotes a workaholic and/or someone who works in engineering; a second meaning: to strive/excel

🦭Aeschylus (2876) – father of Greek tragedy drama; denotes a strong affinity for drama works (either in reading or writing them); if it aspects Uranus, it can bring popularity due to scandals/dramatic past

🦭Bengt (1846) – of Latin origin, but frequently used in Sweden; means blessed

🦭Cappi (49777) – of Italian origin; means lucky

🦭Elpis (59) – of Greek origin; means "the spirit of hope"; like the star card in tarot, this asteroid shows us where we are most hopeful

🦭Gorky (2768) – of English origin; means awkward/strange

🦭Khandrika (12068) – of Indian origin; means small village/small place

🦭Khalat (468725) – of Indian origin; means robe; denotes someone with high social status, someone who dresses expensive

🦭Libby (5672) – of British origin; means God’s promise; if relevant in synastry, it can indicate fated connections, someone given to us from the above

🦭Odeh (34786) – of Arabic origin; denotes someone (or something) coming back into your life, similar to Aesculapia (1027)

🦭Oenomaos (164555) – from Greek mythology (corresponds to King Oenomaus of Pisa); shows love for consuming wine; if prominent in the natal chart, it can point to an alcoholic

🦭Oenone (215) – from Greek mythology; a nymph abandoned by her lover, Paris, who choose Helen of Troy over her; prominent in people who have been cheated on/left by lovers

🦭Okugi (5174) – of Japanese origin; means the heart or depth of something, secrets, mysteries, esoterica

🦭Okuni (7769) – of Japanese origin; means homeland or native country

🦭Olathe (18984) – its meaning comes from the Shawnee language; means lovely/beautiful

🦭Paeonia (1061) – of Latin origin; denotes the latin term for peony (symbols of peony: love, honor, romance, beauty)

🦭Palach (1834) – of Russian origin; means executioner, hangman, butcher, torturer

🦭Piedade (11912) – of Portugese origin; means pity, mercy, kindness towards an enemy

🦭Pierre (1392) – of French origin; means stone, rock

🦭Quigley (18699) – of Irish origin; means “from the mother’s side”; denotes someone very similar to their own mother or her family, heavily attached to the mother figure or someone who has grown up without a father; a second meaning: “unruly hair”; denotes someone with crazy hair

🦭Quinn (107561) – of Irish origin; means wise, intelligent

🦭Quito (10793) – of Spanish origin; means “center of the world”; denotes someone popular and/or famous

🦭Seiwa (16700) – of Japanese origin; means saint; denotes a person of superior knowledge and virtue; a second meaning: peace, calm

🦭Vangelis (6354) – of Greek origin; means good news

🦭Vate (12312) – of English origin, but borrowed from Latin; means prophet, fortune teller, inspired writer; prominent in witches and tarot readers

🦭Vedrana (176014) – of Croatian and Serbian origin; denotes someone who is lighthearted, joyful, cheerful

🦭Xenia (625) – of Greek origin; denotes a great host, someone hospitable and welcoming with guests and strangers in need

(21029, 23017, 1155, 159, 2876, 1846, 49777, 59, 2768, 12068, 468725, 5672, 34786, 164555, 215, 5174, 7769, 18984, 1061, 1834, 11912, 1392, 18699, 107561, 10793, 16700, 6354, 12312, 176014, 625)

#astro #astro community #astrology #astro placements #astro observations #astro posts #astroblr #astro blog #astro notes #asteroids #asteroid astrology #asteroid observations

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boyfhee · 4 months

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﹙𝓲ssue﹚ㅤ:ㅤmemoirs of the windㅤ...ㅤ( 제이 )

ㅤㅤ﹙2072﹚ ㅤ장르 angst, bittersweetㅤㅤwarnings drinking, light implications of substance abuse, smoking, break-up, sort of non closure on his partㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ for @okwonyo's celestial ballet event ! i had sm fun writing this, thank u for hosting the event iNDEX

ib only by lee hi ⋆ there are references to the lyrics in this work

the clock strikes eight, a click of the lighter follows— the flame settles on the wick of the candle, fluttering before resting still like everything else in the apartment. the wind plays its melancholic howls as if music orchestrated for the day. outside, it’s a dance of leaves waving on trees. inside, it’s your birthday, and it’s quiet.

he sits at the kitchen counter, eyes fixed on the cake. it’s your favourite, cherry vanilla, with little flowers made of red buttercream adding to its appeal. the candle lights up a little over and across the sweet delicacy, albeit nothing compared to the dim lights of his kitchen. he sighs, and wonders, and wonders, and then whispers above the weighing silence.

“happy birthday,” he says to the ghost of you. perhaps you’re on the couch watching him, or maybe on the stool across from him. in his mind, you’re here. in his heart, on his lips, and when the alcohol wears off for a brief minute— you’re back to sweden.

“happiest birthday,” he mutters again, eyes never leaving your name on the cake. it’s your first birthday without him. you said you’d spend your birthdays with him but here you are nonetheless. here he is, wondering, waiting, wasting himself over memories from six months ago. over words you probably have never meant, maybe they never weighed enough for you.

there’s alcohol on the side. you detest it— gosh— shuddering away from the whiff alone. jay thought he would have to give up on drinking if he wanted to keep you. there has never been an ‘if’ actually, for he stopped buying beer and wine, stayed away from drinking even though his friends made fun of him, sometimes. and yet there you were on his instagram feed, smiling, partying with a bottle of Kopparberg in your hand.

‘times change,’ you had said once when he saw you munching on your mint-chocolate ice cream. you had claimed to hate it, and then you were on the couch, saying you had changed your mind and it definitely doesn’t taste like toothpaste. ‘people change, jay,’

that day, he didn’t think much over your words and laughed it off, deciding to have a taste as well. today, however, it’s all hitting him like a wave at the sea during a storm. he wonders what else has changed. do you still like macaroons? do you still wear that bracelet he gifted on your hundred days anniversary? is lee hi still your favourite artist?

he remembers the song— only, it’s also from your favourite album of hers. you played it on repeat sometimes, while cleaning your room or baking. soft hums of its familiar melodies danced off your lips while you did laundry. jay could only ask himself why you like it so much, until he actually asked you one day, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the doorframe.

‘it’s cute and romantic,’ you had responded while folding your clothes, the slight fragrance of your detergent spinning in the air. ‘it sounds like love,’

that was like you, to associate and define things as love. his kisses tasted like love, touch felt like love, voice resonated with love— sometimes, he’d stop and shake his head at your words with a silly smile. how could you see love in everything around, in things as ugly as shame, and pretty as stars? he remembers meeting you and you described the feeling as love.

you came in like a spring wind. first day, first interaction, and he was floored.

jay doesn’t know much about love. he isn’t the one to ponder about it and put it in words. love, to him, is the feeling, happy or sad. to him, it’s in longing and yearning, yet also in letting go. you were his first girlfriend, and his hands were shaking when he felt like he had the entire world on his palms. he would stutter and stumble and you would lend him a hand. that’s love to him. when his patience ran thin and he ended up saying words he didn’t mean, when arguments left you with silence weaving itself in between, you would hold him and promise to stay together, and he says he’ll do better. that’s love to him.

love, to jay, was when he came home in a hurry to your long texts— your bags laid out with clothes inside, and he let your hand slip out of his fingers.

‘can you explain yourself?’ he had asked, anxious and frantic, going crazy behind his eyes. his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he pulled you aside, holding your hands ever so dearly and in fear.

‘there’s nothing to explain. i told you everything over text,’ and that’s all you had said before going back to packing your stuff. jay saw your flight tickets on the bedside table and realised there was a lot you didn’t tell him about— and you’re still a mystery to him.

‘did i do something wrong?’

‘did i push you away?’

‘am i not good enough?’

all these questions spun in the room, and you had taken his hand ever so tenderly, planting a soft, gentle kiss, looking at him in the eyes with pain— love. you had told him so inexplicably how happy you were and how much the time you two spent meant to you. you had told him how lovely he was and how all your rainy nights and lonely days felt like you were being coloured in his shiny light because he was with you.

you told him, he believed, and you let go of his hands with a bittersweet smile before walking back to your closet.

‘did you fall out of love?’ silence.

‘are you tired of me?’ and silence.

he still thinks about those questions he asked, even now as he’s sitting in front of your supposed birthday cake. you never responded, but your silence told more than words could ever recite. he wishes you had answered him, though. it would’ve been easier for him to move on, even though he has always known what your answer would be. sometimes, he wishes for you to come back running, half because he wants to close the door on you and hurt you the same way you hurt him, and half because he wants to hold you in his arms and pour out all the love he has for you. his fingers hover above the like button of your posts. he wonders if he should comment or maybe send you a direct message. he wants to pull you back, but you look so happy without him— and who was he ever to take away your happiness? so he just scrolls past, liking other posts and reels, and hangs in there drowning in thoughts of you until you post again— and the ugly cycle continues.

jay notices the candle melting and puts it away on the kitchen counter, not wanting the wax to poison the cake if it ever could. he grabs a can of beer from the fridge, downs it, and then grabs another, then another, and another, to the point his vision is blurring. he tries to light a cigarette but the lighter doesn’t work. he takes off his cardigan and throws it around in attempt to make a mess. he wants you to see him— pitiful and in pain, and he wants you to stop him like you always had.

he tunes in the recorder, listening to a few of the songs that you enjoyed. he never bothered changing it. and he drinks yet another can of beer, looking around and out of the window, looking at the unattended cake and the melted wax on the table. oh how you would scrape it out with your nails.

“do you think about me?” he asks into the empty. the question gnaws at him from the inside, along with a thousand others. he waits, and waits, hoping for a response, knowing it’s useless, hopeless. “sometimes, i think about you every minute,”

he tries to think of how you’d respond to those words— with a laugh, maybe. maybe, you’d tell him you think of him too, he can only guess, he can only imagine. he imagines you walking up to him and leaning down for a kiss. you’d whisper something sweet in your enchanting voice and then kiss him again, this time getting onto his lap, your lips pulling him in a way he can’t help but wrap his arms around you. and just when it would be getting better— you’d pull away.

‘i don’t like dancing,’ you had mentioned once, as he suddenly remembers via the alcohol taking him down the memory lane, when he asked you for a dance at the freshers party. he didn’t even know you then, not more than the fact that you were the most beautiful person he had seen that night.

and then a year later, you were in his apartment, arms over his shoulders, his hands on your waist. you gave him this sweet smile and made him inch closer for a kiss, all while waltzing to your favourite song. you said you didn’t mind dancing if it was him, only him. because he was the only one.

and jay huffs at the memory, a bit frustrated. it was a lie, a pure white lie. you didn’t mind sharing dance with a few of your friends. he knew it was childish of him to be upset at this, but he’s annoyed nonetheless. you’ve told him lies, about love, about him, about yourself; to the point he believed they were the truth. like when you said he didn’t have a talent for music so he should take engineering instead so that you two could stay together. and when you said everything would be fine now that he was in love with you— a whole lot of lies. he grips the can tightly at the memory, pressing his fingers into the metal. and then your song comes on.

jay just stares at the recorder for a few seconds. he pictures you walking up to him from the living room with a smile on your face, asking him for a dance and he’d agree— as he does, standing up from the stool except this time, he’s holding a beer can instead of your hand. every step he takes reminds him of the little dance you two performed together. he closes his eyes occasionally, taking in the lyrics, the chorus that you like so much. he let his mind trace over every single memory of yours he has preserved in his mind. how quickly you made him fall for you and how swiftly you left.

like a wind blowing past the curtains into his living room, you came into his life, and entranced him in your presence. you had asked him to make room for you in his heart and he gave you your entire self and soul. being with you was an adventure, like walking into a storm. he had to share his love and you’ll never let go. now, he starts picturing you in his arms while waltzing down the kitchen all alone, reliving the feeling of your body pressed close to him.

he lets his feet guide him around his apartment, down to the living room, bumping into the couch slightly but he doesn’t stop. it’s like the first dance he shared with you, magical, as you had him lost in yourself completely. all the walks together with you, hands intertwined together, it all plays in his head like a movie. and jay never understood the song like you did, but he can walk on the world stage and thump his chest to claim you’re the only one— but it wouldn’t mean a damn thing since he’s not yours in return.

he takes a sip of beer, humming to the melody of the song as he waltzes on his own, walking down to the balcony. you were his muse, and his notepad is full of songs he wrote about you, and he— jay lets out a chuckle— a passerby. you came in like a wind, calling him your only one amongst the other people you had pulled in your whirl all along, and he leans against the railing, taking last sips of beer from his can.

a wind flows by— and you’re gone.

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fight-for-what-you-love · 2 days

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♪ Worldwide - Big Time Rush

I'm gonna be honest- these episodes kind of fell apart while I was making this. The more I re-wrote the story for it's second draft the less this version made sense and the less interested I was to work on it. I have not much else to say except sorry this part is kinda iffy and sorry it took so long. I promise you I'll make up for this in the next episode I PROMISE

Notes on both episodes under the cut!

Sweden Sour

* (I think it’d be really funny if Cody just doesn’t talk at all this episode. Not a word. Just nods and head shakes and depressed faces.)

* Cody’s incredibly depressed after Noah’s elimination. Sierra’s over the moon, though. She sees Cody depressed and gives him a tight side hug, petting his head. She tries consoling him with “I know you’re sad, but it’s ok! At least I’m still here~.” Cody starts sobbing, head in hands. Heather is sick of this already.

* The teams get their “ibuilda” pieces and the Amazons argue on what it’s supposed to be. Cody stares at the pieces for a few seconds before the light briefly re enters his eyes. He starts building. Courtney tells him to stop but Heather tells her he’s obviously got it, so let him work. They start helping him build… something.

* Once the Amazons are done, Heather, Sierra and Courtney take a step back to see what they’ve built. It’s a giant wooden Noah head. Their faces drop. Heather is filled with murderous rage.

* We built Noah’s face (We’re gonna take first place) Cause we built Noah’s faaaace

* Tyler’s jumper would be white.

* Cody doesn’t sing in this number. Chris notices and stares at him threateningly. He reluctantly hums the chorus and Chris takes what he can get.

* (Alejandro takes off his shirt to pull the boat like a freak. Duncan is unfazed and Tyler will deny it if you ask him if he blushed.)

* Sierra hits Noah’s Head hard enough it falls over on its side and suggests sawing off the side to ride in him like a boat. Heather and Courtney agree to this. Cody has no comment.

* Duncan and Alejandro don't bother bending over backwards to please Tyler. Duncan makes himself captain and no one argues.

* When the Amazons go to pick a captain, Courtney grabs the hat and declares herself captain without input. Heather tries to argue but Courtney argues back- Cody is in no condition, no one trusts Sierra and Heather took control the last challenge so this time she’s in charge. Heather reluctantly backs down.

* Amazons catch up to team Chris in the water. Alejandro sees them approach and makes note of Cody’s face, making fun of him for being so upset about “the Noah thing”. Cody furrows his eyebrows and points furiously at Chris’s boat. Courtney agrees that yes, they should shoot their boat.

* It doesn’t matter who wins the challenge since it’s a non elimination round, but I want to say the Amazons persevere. The massage helps Cody enough that he’s not stone faced next episode at least.

Aftermath III (Aftermath Aftermayhem)

* Gwen, Owen and Noah are introduced together. Gwen walks out first and Owen, hugging Noah to the point of lifting him off the ground, walks behind her.

* Geoff asks what all that’s about and Gwen responds that Owen refused to let him go until Noah “understood just how sorry he was”. Noah insists he forgives him, but Owen still won’t let him go.

* The Owen square is replaced by the Tyler square. The prompt is survive. (The hosts throw a bunch of debris at the contestant for thirty seconds and if they dodge everything they move on.)

* (For brevity’s sake, assume all of the contestants that participated in the board game in the original episode participated here [with the exception of Tyler, who is replaced with Owen]. They all get eliminated the same way as well, Noah getting got by aliens, Owen falling down the booby trap square and Beth making it to the final question.)

* When Beth gets stumped on the last question (What was Duncan's band called) Noah yells at her, frustrated: “Oh my- It’s Der Schnitzel Kickers, Beth!!” Confetti and balloons fall from the ceiling.

* (He knows this because Cody had mentioned it in a conversation after the London challenge.)

* Noah initially complains about winning the game, but Owen reminds him that he gets to see Cody again and he shuts up immediately.

* “Noah wins!” “Wasn’t he disquali-” “NOAH WINS!! Let’s wrap it up. We’re done here.”

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ara-line · 6 months

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Some myth busting about Israel's Eurovision participation

Do note that I use countries here when referring to participation. The term broadcasters would be more accurate since a national broadcaster chooses the entrant and the broadcaster is a member of the European Broadcasting Union, the organization behind Eurovision. But a lot of people use the term countries instead of broadcasters, hence why I'm using that word as well.

Myth 1. "Israel isn't even in Europe"

Well, any country that's part of the European Broadcasting Union (EBU), which Israel, Azerbaijan, Armenia, and Georgia are members of, can participate. Same goes for associate members like Australia, hence why Australia is allowed to participate. Lebanon and Morocco could also participate but choose not to because of Israel. In fact, Morocco's only participation was when Israel wasn't participating in the contest, and Lebanon planned to participate but didn't because of Israel's participation. There are rumours going around that this is also the case for Tunisia and Qatar.

Myth 2. "Eurovision banned Russia but not Israel."

Not completely true. Russia was initially going to participate in the 2022 contest, but several countries protested against Russia's participation and threatened to withdraw if Russia was allowed to participate, thus leading to them being kicked out. We will come back to this point about several countries threatening to leave.

Myth 3. "A lot of the artists speaking out about Israel could actually just withdraw from the contest to make a real statement."

You do realize the EBU actually will fine countries if they withdraw too late without good reason? I'm pretty sure a lot of these countries have contracts in place for their contestants, and since the contest is set to take place in mid May, withdrawing would mean possibly being blacklisted from the music industry and losing out on more opportunities. Not for being pro Palestine, but because they backed out on a contract they signed and left the many, many people who work behind the scenes high and dry on really short notice.

Technically not a myth but worth mentioning: 4. "Israel should be kicked out because her presence is a security risk."

Where do we even begin with this? If a country like Sweden, where the contest is being hosted, isn't able to protect its contestants from terrorist attacks, they shouldn't be hosting. It's that simple. I doubt anyone would've said this if Russia was allowed to participate in 2022.

Myth 5. "Eurovision lets Israel pinkwash its crimes."

@pauvrecamille really summed up how a lot of the discourse around pinkwashing can be boiled down to "country I hate gives their gays more rights than one I like." We could talk about how the only transgender winner is from Israel herself.

And if there is a case to be made for pinkwashing in Eurovision, I would argue that it applies more to Russia and Azerbaijan than it does to Israel. At least Israelis can criticize their government and not fear being arrested.

Speaking of Azerbaijan:

Myth 6. "If even one country withdraws from the contest, then that will send a statement to the contest."

Not true. Armenia withdrew from the 2021 contest because of the war with Azerbaijan, while Azerbaijan was allowed to participate in the contest. This is even after we already know they've cheated twice in the contest, on top of the human rights violations. And we could talk about how so many were forcibly displaced because of Azerbaijan hosting the competition in 2012.

We can also talk about how Ukraine withdrew from the contest in 2015 because of Russia's invasion. Russia was still allowed to participate and went on to place second that year.

In 2008, Russia invaded Georgia and in 2009, the Georgian entry was called "We Don't Wanna Put In" which contained veiled references to Putin's invasion. Because Russia was hosting the contest that year, the EBU tried to get Georgia to change their song. Georgia refused and ended up withdrawing.

Remember what I said about several countries threatening to withdraw if Russia was allowed to participate in 2022? It took a total of 10 countries expressing their concerns about Russia's participation and three or four threatening to withdraw if Russia was allowed to actually get the EBU to reverse course on their decision. So there's that.

EDIT: Myth 7: "People wouldn't be bullying the artists for participating in the contest if the EBU kicked Israel out."

Why am I even surprised this is a talking point?

Edit: Myth 8: "Eurovision is treating Israel differently because of the whole lyrics change situation."

I've seen this on both sides, and this is not true. I've mentioned Georgia earlier, but I also want to mention Armenia's 2015 entry, originally called Don't Deny. It was changed to Face the Shadow and allowed to compete. It's reportedly about the Armenian genocide. The point is, stuff like this happens all the time. In 2021, in the midst of protests and lack of freedom, Belarus sent a pro government band with a song containing veiled lyrics threatening to subjugate the protestors. The EBU allowed them to submit another song but ultimately, Belarus was kicked out after they still failed to follow the rules.

So no, this is not out of the norm. At least from what I know. I'm more than happy to edit this section out if I have been proven wrong. God knows I've edited this post many, many times.

Final thoughts:

A lot of the people who are all high and mighty about boycotting Eurovision would absolutely not be doing that if it was Russia participating. They certainly didn't when Azerbaijan did in 2021.

A lot of the misinformation around Eurovision this year can be chalked up to antisemitism and not understanding how contracts work. I think it's also really performative and virtue signaling at best. Yes, it's true that the postcards(clips for the broadcast while preparing for the next performer) for the 2019 contest, held in Israel, where filmed in disputed territories.

Actually, let's talk about the postcards.

You see, KAN, the Israeli broadcaster, chose not to film the postcards in territories like the West Bank. And they were criticized for it by the right wing Israeli government. So there is a true fact about something bad the Israeli government did that you can criticize them for.

Now back to the topic at hand.

Yes, it's true that Israel's lyrics were changed so they could go ahead and participate this year. It's just that now, it's really difficult to have a sane conversation about Israel in general. It's difficult to have a sane conversation about antisemitism with some people. Take this post here trying to combat antisemitism only to end up having to fight Islamophobia. Put a big F in the chat for the OP of that post, yikes.

If no one got called anti LGBT when the World Cup was held in Qatar and people still watched, I don't see why people who choose to watch Eurovision this year should be called pro genocide.

Last but not least, I want to end this on a more positive note, so this year's contest is looking really good. No one's completely sure who will take the win this year, but right now the song with the most bets to win the contest is Switzerland. It's not like 2023, where we all knew who was going to win weeks before the actual contest. So I'm interested in the outcome this year. You guys are more than welcome to throw in your own opinions on this year's caliber of songs if you want.

#a lot of my fellow anti #tankies #will probably appreciate this post because of how much misinformation is going around about Eurovision and Israel this year #hence why I've tagged it as such #eurovision song contest #palestine #stop making the left look bad you donkeys #most of you don't know what you're talking about #israel #misinformation

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bittersuitejacobs · 2 months

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• an unhealthy obsession • Nate Jacobs •

one. spectacle

Summary: A new school year is about to begin and after reinventing herself into the perfect prey, Ophelia finds herself in Nate Jacobs' crosshairs far sooner than she'd expected, at McKay's end of Summer party.

Warnings: SMUT, drinking, semi-public fingering, implied traumatic childhood.

A/N: 3032 words. Coming out of the gates red hot. This whole fic is very self indulgent, you have been warned. Looking forward to hearing what you guys think about this set up. ❤️

{ masterpost }

THE TAGLIST IS ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

---

Nate Jacobs was a shockingly easy person to read.

Ophelia Chase, who was no stranger to falling into obsession - whether it was with books, movies, shows, or people - found him to be an incredibly alluring subject for observation, so perhaps it was less that Nate himself was easy to read, and more that Ophelia was a most competent reader. Either way, she'd noticed his apparent saviour complex, his desperate desire to be some kind of hero, especially when it came to Maddie. It had started with this idle thought, a curiosity as to whether she could use it to get him to notice her too.

Ophelia knew in a rather detached way that she has become someone who others would consider objectively hot. It stemmed from being an unfortunately plain and sickly child, which continued for most of her experience being homeschooled through middle school, as did her less than flattering wardrobe and hair choices. Both of which were courtesy of a controlling mother who was struggling with feeling out of control in her own life and making up for it by treating her only daughter like the World's ugliest doll. At least that's what Ophelia had believed for a long time; the sickness that too plagued her childhood, left her feeble and frail and often bedridden was less an act of God, as her mother so often wept, but an act of malice perpetrated by the very same woman. Now, with an entirely too permissive father who travelled for work, and no more poisons being discretely fed to her, to keep her needing the mother who feared her freedom, Ophelia was finally, after years, beginning to come into her own as a teenager.

But she started in the background.

She worked hard to remain unnoticed. At parties hosted by her peers, she dressed well enough not to stand out, but never enough to draw attention to herself. Observing from the sidelines, drink in hand, figuring out the creatures around her, it's how she first properly noticed Nate, not that he was entirely foreign to her to begin with. But the real obsession started when she'd noticed his wandering eyes, clinging to those she hadn't anticipated him being drawn to, always when he knew Maddie wasn't looking. Pretty girls, sweet girls, girls who were surprisingly different to his admittedly beautiful but brash girlfriend.

Maddie was a hurricane of a girl, Ophelia wondered if Nate was trying to tame her like a bucking bull.

Nate wants to be in charge. Wants to be the hero. Wants.

And Ophelia wanted him.

So it started with catching the eye.

It started with dressing the part.

After spending the Summer in Sweden with her father, she gets back a few days before her Senior year starts with high hopes and set intentions. A day at the mall has her set with a whole new wardrobe, and Mckay's party is the first chance she has to try it out. Its a far cry from the baggy jeans and graphic tees she'd spent most of the past few years in. A tight, white t-shirt with the words 'Too Sweet' stretched across her chest, tucked into a high waisted pleated skirt with a flirty hem on her thighs, the look was completed with white, knee high socks and a pair of cherry red flats. Her long, healthy hair was pulled into two messy buns, and she kept her makeup light, apart from the red lip she wore. The perfume, however, was a novelty, aift from her father, sweet and citrusy, from one of his trips to Spain.

If this was to be the debut of the new and eye catching Ophelia Chase, she'd make sure everything was absolutely perfect. She'd even been practicing, for far longer than she was willing to admit, to hide the Southern twang to her accent, mirrored from her father, whom she'd spent most of her time with growing up.

However, when she finally arrived at the party itself, it seemed she still had a lot to learn, considering she was unable to abandon her wallflower ways. Drink in hand, she received no shortage of attention considering her look, but still felt awkward being noticed so much more than she usually was, even after taking a few dexys a pretty boy offered her as she'd headed to the bathroom. Or perhaps they'd made her too aware of how different, how out of place she felt when caught in their gazes.

There was a moment where Nate, who'd she'd been seeing around all night, gorgeous and shirtless, swanning around like he owned the place, actually noticed her. He's drunk, had been since she'd arrived around eleven, but he'd also been pressed up on some girl who definitely wasn't his girlfriend, so Ophelia kept her focus elsewhere. Still, it made her smile; his tumultuous relationship with Maddie apparently wouldn't be a problem tonight. Every cruel aside her mother had hissed long ago about the likes of Nathaniel Jacobs whenever his family had been brought up blow through her mind at once. She often wondered how much of her mother's ire had come from a place of truth; she warned Ophelia that just being near him would spoil her, ruin her, taint her in some terrible, intangible way. As a child, she'd thought that couldn't possibly be true. At seventeen, however, the prospect kind of thrilled her.

Now, she was sitting on the arm of a sofa, pleats of her perfectly white skirt splitting on her thigh as she chatted lightly with a girl she'd seen around school, hanging out with Maddie and Kat; BB. Out of the corner of her eye she spots him in the kitchen, pouring another shot for himself, when he looks up and catches sight of her.

Ophelia's heart is in her throat suddenly -

BB makes an amusing observation about someone across the room, and Ophelia's momentarily caught up in laughter. Its only when BB grins broadly at the laughing girl and announces she's going to get a drink, asking if Ophelia wants one, to which she smiles sweetly and agrees. In her own head, she's wondering if she has time to head outside for a cigarette, and doesn't notice she now has new company before he speaks.

"Cute shirt, is it true?" Giving a start at the sudden voice beside her, Ophelia then looks down for a second, before seeing the 'Too Sweet' emblazoned tightly across her chest. Looking up again, she sees Nate smirking with amusement, "I get the feeling it is."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Like her heart isn't going a hundred miles an hour in her chest. He offers her a shot, one of the two he's holding, eyebrows raised in silent question, silent challenge. Ophelia wet her lips, smiling slyly, attempting to regain her composure, "not sure if I should be accepting drinks from strange men," still, she took it from his hands, heady buzzing in her ears from the brief moment their fingers brush.

They've had multiple classes together since the start of high school.

"I'm Nate," he offered, "now we're not strangers, Too Sweet." He offered his own shot to cheers.

"Fi," she cheerses him, and they both take the shots. Ophelia, who's been drinking around the world for years, isn't bothered by the way it burns, but pretty girls, sweet girls, they're not supposed to take shots like it's nothing. Tequila was always something she enjoyed, though she prefers it with a chaser, it still brought back fond memories of time spent in Mexico with her dad. Ophelia makes a face, shudders a little, and listens to the way Nate laughs at her reaction, pride blooming in her chest at her own performance. He takes the shot glasses and puts them on a nearby table that's already covered in bottles and cups, returning to take the seat BB had just vacated. He's got a hand on her thigh, sliding just up beneath the hem of her skirt.

"How come I've never seen you around before?" He had, Ophelia had just never been worth looking at before now. Feeling uncharacteristically bold, Ophelia shifts, presses her leg into his hand just a little.

"Who says you haven't?"

"Because I'd remember a pretty girl like you," he gives her thigh a squeeze, and Ophelia can feels like she's about to go into cardiac arrest from the way he's looking at her. Everything feels warm and fuzzy and wonderful and Ophelia thinks about how fucking often she'd pictured this moment, this 'first' meeting, but never imagined it going this well. Instead, Ophelia laughs, blush rising on her cheeks.

"Fuck, I thought I was the sweet one," she dropped her gaze.

"You are from where I'm sitting," he wets his lips, once again looking her over, gaze clearly leering. Emboldened as she feels the shot start to hit her, she slid from the arm of the sofa into his lap.

"You wanna check again?" Not in a thousand years could she have imagined how this situation would be playing out. Nate Jacobs' arm around her, Nate Jacobs holding her face, Nate Jacobs running his thumb along her bottom lip as he gazed at her with what she can only describe as want. His thumb comes away clean, her shiny, transfer-proof lipstick proving itself to be true. Ophelia can read the amusement in his eyes, "I didn't want it coming off on my drinks," her blush only grew deeper, despite the fact it was the thinnest truth, self conscious of any alternative situations he may have assumed she was preparing for.

"Too sweet," Nate had muttered faintly with a smirk, Ophelia grinned back, letting him pull her in for a kiss. They're both drunk, Ophelia's head spinning as he nips at her lip, deepens the kiss into something messy and passionate, his tongue in her mouth, hand moving from her face to her thigh. She's not sure when she moved to straddle his lap, but she hears the appreciative way he murmurs, "that's right," against her lips as she wraps her arms around his neck, pressed against him, his hands on her ass.

It was as if her blood was singing in her veins to be in this moment, at this party, already wrapped up in the very boy who's attention she'd designed herself hoping to entice. The future, the concequenses, be damned; she moaned into Nate's mouth as he roughly groped her ass.

One of his hands moves, warm and broad as it trailed back over her thigh beneath her skirt. Nate has always known what he wants, was always rather direct about it too, from what Ophelia had witnessed, and now was no different. When he pushes her pretty, lace panties to the side, sliding a finger into her with ease in the middle of the party, Ophelia gasps.

"So fucking wet," Nate teased, already adding another finger, curling them inside of her. Instead of a proper response, Ophelia's eyes fell closed, biting her lip to hold back the pleased noises trying to escape her. If anyone around then had taken notice - which they hadn't, since Nate's hand on her ass under her skirt was enough for everyone to already look away - Ophelia didn't care.

Nate kisses her again, rougher this time, biting at her lip, finger fucking her in his lap as his other hand came up to rest on the back of her neck in a firm grip. Blaming the drinking, or the music, or the dexys, or shirtless, flirty Nate goddamn Jacobs, Ophelia sighs and whimpers into Nate's mouth as her hips rock gently against his fingers, his thumb insistent against her clit.

"Nate-" she chokes out breathlessly as she's getting close, forehead pressed against his. Nate smirks at her, looks so goddamn pleased with himself, but thankfully doesn't stop.

"Gonna make you cum in the middle of the party, aren't I?" He goads, all warm and encouraging and smug. She wants to tell him to shut up, but he's unfortunately right, and Ophelia's not getting anywhere close to coherent right now. All she can do is nod, weakly, panting and breathless as she feels herself begin to topple over the edge, "slut," he goads against her lips with a grin. Ophelia leans in, kissing him to muffle how she's whimpering as her orgasm crashes through her, stars bursting bright behind her eyes, a mix of shame and elation following in its wake.

Never ever could have imagined this.

Coming down from the sudden rush of endorphins, she pulls back a little, only to see Nate's smug, wide smile as he removes his fingers from her, raising them to his lips. Ophelia, who was already shocked by her own actions, breathing hard, arms still around his neck, watches with a flustered, wide-eyes gaze as Nate sticks both fingers in his mouth, tasting her, tasting what he'd been able to do to her.

"Sweet girl," his grin is all teeth; Ophelia feels trapped in his dark, hungry gaze, but desire still burns low in her gut amid the satisfaction. Nate's hand finds her thigh again, squeezing gently, "lets get another drink and go upstairs; you can return the favour."

Fuck, her mum was right. She'd absolutely let him ruin her.

Ophelia nods eagerly, despite her expression still clearly reading as flustered, but before she can, he pulls her in for a final kiss, makes her taste herself on his tongue. A soft, needy noise escapes her, and before he finally lets her stand, Nate mutters -

"Such a good fucking girl, Fi."

She thinks she might pass out with how much she wants him right now.

As she stands, he smacks her ass before he gets up, and Ophelia, having regained access to her higher brain function, rolls her eyes at him, but grins.

But in the kitchen, halfway through pouring another drink, someone Ophelia vaguely recognises as one of Nate's friends mutters something to him that makes him furious. Its like he's forgotten her entirely, storming from the kitchen, leaving her utterly confused by the very sudden change. Debating whether to follow him or wait there, her mind is made up by the pretty, soft spoken blonde who compliments her outfit. The girl introduces herself as Jules, wearing a rather cute outfit of her own, in dark blues and florals, and Ophelia compliments her as such.

"I'm Ophelia, by the way," she offers with a bright smile, "but Lia's less of a mouthful," she offers with a laugh. Jules is new to town, and has the most beautiful laugh.

"Did you pick Ophelia?" Jules grins, but Ophelia shook her head.

"Mona couldn't find a way to feminize Hamlet," she smiled wryly, "so I had to grow up hearing 'never kill yourself over a boy'."

"Clearly she should have had more faith; you would totally own as Hamlet," Jules' face fell, however, as Ophelia's expression twists bitterly.

"I would," she agrees, head starting to feel fuzzy in all the wrong ways, as it did whenever she found herself reflecting on her mother, "Mona should have done a lot of things differently."

"Sorry," immediately Jules is apologising, "I shouldn't have -" but Ophelia tries to relax, giving her a tight smile.

"Shout out to terrible moms for breaking the stereotype," she managed, ruefully, grabbing the nearest bottle of liquor, forgoing a cup as she raised it in sarcastic cheers. Jules, however, barks a laugh, shaking her head.

"I will gladly drink to that," she offers in solidarity as Ophelia takes a large mouthful of the vodka. Surprised by the unfortunate common ground, something warms in her, the tension genuinely easing, and she offers the bottle. Jules only takes a token sip, but the moment breaks as both girls end up bursting into laughter, commiserating together.

When Ophelia leaves to find the bathroom, she assures Jules she'll return, but it's Jules who manages to disappear before she gets back. The atmosphere in the kitchen is tense. Nate is back but looks like he's more than half way to murderous as he's chugging the last of the vodka Ophelia had drunk from earlier.

And she barely gets through a sentence to him before he spits at her to fuck off. His gaze is so fucking cold -

"I just- are you- ?"

"I said -" he steps up to her, leaning in and radiating malevolent intent as he looms so large over her in this moment, "fuck. Off." Ophelia shrinks back, like she isn't thinking about how damn hot she thinks he is right now, how much she wants him to push her up against the nearest wall or counter.

"I'm going," she huffs, quietly defensive as a front, "sorry for trying to give a shit, Jesus fucking Christ," stepping back with placating hands. In her haste to get away, she misses the brief moment in which Nate's fury holds a flicker of surprise, but it passes, disperses as she retreats from the kitchen towards the front of the house. She doesn't see him throw the empty bottle in the garbage disposal with so much force it shatters upon impact, but she certainly hears it.

Mckay's house isn't really within walking distance, which she forgets until she's a block away and halfway through a cigarette. So she has to call herself an uber to return to the quiet, empty, upper-middle class family home that is the Chase residence. Tucked into bed, she's out before her head even hits the pillow, and only when she wakes up the next day, shocking hang over hitting her like a truck, that she can reflect on the night.

All things considered, it was at least a partial success. She'd definitely caught his attention, at least until something more important to him had stolen it. It wouldn't take her long to learn that it was Maddie and some college guy fucking in the pool, doing the exact same thing Nate has used Ophelia for; making the other jealous.

But, Ophelia thinks with quiet pride as she popped Advil and drank water like her life depended on it, that tonight was definitely a good start.

#nate jacobs x oc #nate jacobs x original character #nate jacobs imagine #euphoria x oc #euphoria oc #euphoria original character #euphoria x original character #nate jacobs fanfic #nate jacobs x reader #euphoria imagine #auo

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beauty-and-passion · 4 months

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Eurovision 2024: broken promises and one last hope

Hello.

I know this post took a bit longer than usual, but I needed some time to collect my thoughts about this year’s Eurovision.

Yes, I watched it. Why? Because it wouldn’t have been fair to the artists, who took part in this year’s competition. It’s not because of them that the show was so polarized, so they didn’t deserve to be punished for that.

Also, I needed to see how far the EBU would go. I needed to see and I needed to remember. And everyone needs to remember too. Remember this year and remember what happened, when the EBU followed its policy so strictly, it ended up making the most tense show I’ve ever watched.

I will share my thoughts and I will try my best to do it effectively. It won’t be a short post and I apologize, but I tried my best.

_________________________________

Sweden: was it worth it?

We all had big expectations for this year’s show. There was Petra Mede, everyone’s favorite host. And Sweden is well known for doing great shows. This year should've been great.

The first semifinal starts and we're bombarded by greatest hits of the past. Cool for five minutes, boring after one hour.

I’m disappointed: I expected something better from Sweden, not them recycling something already done in the past. But that’s what they did by sending Loreen back to win again, so I suppose it’s fitting.

Okay, so we have Johnny Logan, Ireland’s three-time winner. Is he singing one of his songs? No, he’s singing Tattoo.

Weird choice. Why call Ireland’s three-time winner to perform a Swedish song? Why call a representative of the nation who won as many times as you and make him sing one of your songs and not one of his?

If I were to think badly, I would think this was Sweden's subtle way to impose its supremacy on Ireland. A sort of: "You're not the best anymore, I reached you and I will surpass you. You will succumb to me". But Sweden would never do something like that, wouldn’t it?

Then we have the second semifinal. And we have a song, which can be resumed as follows: “We know we stole Finland’s victory last year, but instead of admitting there is a problem with the voting system (and the entire system for that matter), we’d much rather prefer to whine, because people have been sooooo mean with us. And yes, we will keep sending the same stuff every time, because it makes us win. At the end of the day, all we want is to keep winning, so shut up and love us.”

I don’t know you, but the line between being self-aware of your flaws and openly admitting all you want is to win (all while insulting the country that almost won last year, by saying that their show would’ve been so stupid ah ah, while ours is so cool, see how cool we are?) is very thin. And even the greatest hosting country of all time can succumb to its own hubris once in a while.

Then we reach the final. Okay, the semifinals' shows were meh and left me with a bitter aftertaste, but hey, that’s the final! It must be awesome!

After two hours, I was looking at the clock, waiting for the entire thing to be over.

Did we really need a thirst song about Martin Österdahl, the most hated EBU Executive Supervisor? Was it really necessary to sexualize this man? Is it because he’s Swedish? Is it because Sweden needs to kiss the ESC’s ass even more? Or is it because the ESC really really wants to make this guy more popular, considering people hate him?

After hinting at them in every possible way for the entire week, in the end we got AI-generated ABBA. Well, shoutout to the real ABBA for not participating in this: last year they said they would’ve not taken part and they didn't. Respect.

Alcazar were the biggest surprise of the entire week, because they are a piece of my childhood and Crying at the Discoteque is still a huge bop. But heaven forbid we having fun for more than five minutes, so they were sent away immediately.

At the end of the day, my question is: was it worth it, Sweden? Was it worth winning seven times, only to celebrate with the most boring show ever?

I cannot believe I’m saying this, but I missed Portugal’s show. Yes, the show I called “torture”, because they kept spamming the entire country for days.

You know what? I’d rather watch a country constantly spam its beauties and its culture, than another greatest hit compilation. By god, you’re hosting Eurovision. That's your chance to display your country on the greatest window Europe has to offer. And you use that chance, to repeat over and over “Eurovision good” and talk about it only.

I know Eurovision is good and cool and I love the reminder... but please, give us something more, Sweden. Something you. Listening to a country say: “We don’t have anything else to offer besides Eurovision” does not make me laugh. It makes me sad. It's not that you don't have anything else to offer, Sweden: it's that you don't want to show what else you have to offer.

You have gorgeous natural places (Höga Kusten and Gotland just to name two). You have the second-longest bridge in Europe and it's fucking impressive. Your capital is full of wonderful islands - and I found out there are tours with buses that go both on the ground and in the water. How fucking cool is that?!

Do we want to talk about culture? Your coffee breaks are literally part of your lifestyle and even have a specific name. You have that great concept of lagom which a lot of people should learn too. You are full of beautiful art and funny foods - heck, there is even a Disgusting Food Museum in Malmö! And I didn't find out thanks to Eurovision, but thanks to fucking Tripadvisor.

It's just sad, you know? Don't underestimate yourself so much, Sweden. You have a ton to offer besides this show.

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The Netherlands: victim of paradoxes

Europapa was one of fan’s favorite songs and of course it was: a catchy tune, funny singer, fun and happiness for a song that was both a celebration of Europe and a touching love letter from Joost to his parents.

Of course it got people’s hearts. We all love the story of a character who comes up with a dream and wants to fulfill it. And if we can, we want to make that dream come true.

So just imagine how devastating it was, to find out Joost has been disqualified. I was minding my own business when I found out and I was shocked, so I can’t even imagine how bad his hardcore fans felt.

The first question was, of course, why. What happened? What could’ve done a man who has always wanted to attend Eurovision, to get disqualified? Not warned, not penalized. Disqualified. What did he ever do, to put in jeopardy his lifelong dream like that?

I don't know if we’ll ever find out the whole truth. All we know is that Joost asked a woman to stop filming him, she refused and kept following him, so he made a “threatening gesture” towards the camera, while not touching her.

Which gesture? No idea. Maybe he showed his middle finger, maybe he tried to lower the camera, maybe he said “fuck you and stop filming me”, maybe he tried to hit the camera. I don’t know. But in this case, I would really like to know - and not just what he did, but how the whole thing went.

If this year taught us something, is the importance of context. If Joost Klein tried to punch the camera is one thing and he should be condemned for that. But if Joost Klein tried to punch the camera after being filmed without his permission, because a woman was harassing him and following him, thus breaking the agreement that wanted him to not be filmed after stage… well, that's another thing.

Sure, he shouldn’t have reacted this way. But you can understand by yourself that snapping at someone out of the blue is one thing and snapping because you’re fed up with harassment is another thing.

Did Joost deserve some punishment? Sure. But did the person filming him without consent deserve punishment too? Of course. If you have to apply punishments, you have to do it equally, not with a double standard. So if he was disqualified, that woman should've been removed from her position too. But as far as I know, she wasn't.

Also, why didn't the EBU tell exactly what happened right from the start? Why refer to it as “an incident” and give only vague explanations? Why not mention Joost's disqualification during the Grand Final? Why did people have to find out through social media and the Grand Final happened as if nothing?

That's weird, that's not the behavior of someone who has nothing to hide. What’s the matter, EBU? Why this weird lack of communication? And why not show the footage of the incident and make everything clear? Now you’re respecting Joost’s right to not be filmed? A bit too late for that, isn’t it?

So yes, in a paradoxical turn of events, Joost Klein got his dream denied by the same show he wanted to be part of. The guy with the most European song ever, the one who stuck to the ESC motto “united by music”, the one who celebrated Europe, the one whose childhood dream was to be part of this European show, got disqualified by the same European show.

What can I say? I just hope karma will do its job for him. If he's innocent, he will get good things. If he's in the wrong, he will get his punishment.

In the meantime, you can still support him, stream his songs and check his albums. Here on YouTube you will find basically all of them, since it doesn’t seem he has a YouTube channel (yet).

And if his fans still find everything absurd and unjustifiable, don't worry: if Eurovision 2023 (and all previous ones) taught us something, is that you don’t have to be the winner, to steal people’s hearts. Sometimes, you just need one performance.

And this one stole everyone's heart.

youtube

Also, since apparently paradoxes were not enough, it seems like European flags were banned for being political? European flags during a European show in a European country in the European continent.

Uh?!

EBU, one question: on which continent do you think you’re in? Spoiler: it’s not America.

_________________________________

EBU’s biggest mistake

Let's talk a bit about the current global situation, shall we? No, you can't escape from it.

So, unless you lived under a rock until now, you know that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict has been going on for a long time and that recently it intensified again because of the new Gaza conflict. Israel pretends to not have committed war crimes, the rest of the world tells them to stop committing them, there are protests everywhere and people are ready to jump at each other’s throats to defend one country or the other.

Now, you’re the EBU. You say your show isn’t political. And that’s true: Eurovision isn’t political. Eurovision is a musical competition. It has nothing to do with politics.

But Eurovision takes place on planet Earth. And, as said, the situation on planet Earth is a bit tense right now. So you already know that, if you stick one single finger in this situation, you will get BIG reactions from the public.

So, what do you do, when Israel asks you to participate?

a) You tell Israel, very politely and very professionally, that you appreciate their application, but cannot accept them this year, because the situation is what it is and letting them in would bring chaos and potential dangers into a contest whose main foundation is being safe and non-political.

b) You let Israel in and let Palestine participate too, at least in spirit through people’s voices and decisions to mention it. This way, no one can say you’re taking sides, since you’re letting both sides participate.

c) You let Israel in and censor everything and everyone else, so not only you bring chaos inside your non-political contest, but make it even more political than ever and end up taking sides too.

Guess what EBU chose.

In order to stick to their non-political policy, EBU put blinders on and ignored the rest of the world. In order to let one country in because "Eurovision is non-political, so everyone is allowed to participate", they brought politics into their non-political show.

And no, it's not unexpected: it was obvious that, by letting Israel in, politics would've entered the competition too. This country and politics are bound tightly now, because of the current situation: of course if you let one in, the other will enter too.

And with politics, all the chaos of the current situation found its way in too. And that means EBU literally put in danger:

25 artists and their teams coming from all over Europe

the same Israeli gal and her team

all the tourists coming from all over the world to attend Eurovision

Swedish people who were living their normal lives and were suddenly surrounded by protests and chaos

the protesters who could've been involved in potential clashes

members of the police who also could've been involved in potential clashes

“But hey”, you might say, “nothing bad happened, in the end! You’re being too negative!”

Sure, thankfully nothing bad happened. But the risk was there, it was huge and it's not that "it would've been here anyway": the risk could've been completely avoided, by applying just a bit more human reasoning.

But even after politics found its way into the show, even after that, EBU could've saved the whole thing. If only one human being with a functioning brain said something like: "Okay, politics is in, even if we didn't want to. Now all we can do is let the other side of the conflict speak too, while we stay neutral".

But no, oh no. Mentioning Palestine and ceasefire means politics and our show isn't political. So let's ignore the fact that our decision to follow the policy verbatim led to politics being inside the show and let's keep applying the rules as if nothing: no one should mention politics, so Eric Saade cannot perform with the kefiah, Bambie Thug should remove their messages about ceasefire, Iolanda cannot keep her nails with Palestine's colors (seriously?!) and people's booing should be drowned with anti-booing technology.

You know, it's incredibly fascinating how EBU's stubborn decision to strictly follow the rules not only allowed politics inside the show, but led to the EBU itself taking a political stand, all while censoring every other opposition. EBU's rigid, mechanical application of the policy led to the EBU contradicting the same policy it was oh-so-religiously following. By making sure the show wasn't political, EBU applied censorship and not only made it even more political, but politically oriented towards one side of the conflict.

I don't know who the EBU members are and if they're human beings with functioning brains or just AI-generated bots, but please: stop following the rules like mindless robots and start using human reasoning in your decision-making process. And use common sense too, because if an idiot like me could foresee the consequences, you should've been able to foresee them too.

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Israel: bullying cannot buy you victory

Now, we have Israel in. And the Israeli gal and her team perfectly know that their sole presence will lead to controversy and political stands.

So, if you were in their place, what would have you done?

kept a low profile during the entire competition;

showed at least an ounce of regret for unintentionally putting everyone in danger;

bullied everyone and tried to find any possible chance to beef with the other artists;

Guess what the Israeli team chose.

During the entire competition, these people kept harassing other artists, filming them without consent, calling them names, misgendering them. They kept this arrogant behavior, as if they owned the place and all other countries were just invited to their show.

And if there’s something I hate more than arrogance, is arrogance with a side dish of bullying.

So, to all the people whining because “Martina Satti yawned while Eden was speaking and Joost hid his face”: if that’s bullying, for you, you have a great life and I envy you. I wish I was bullied like that in school. But my bullying was more like… well, calling me names, harassing me and listening/spying what I was doing without my consent.

But apparently harassing the competitors wasn’t enough, so Israel decided to harass the viewers too, by begging for votes. Yes, they begged for votes. Yes, they spammed ads all over YouTube. Yes, I got one too and it was on a Eurovision-unrelated video and it made my blood boil. Yes, they were this desperate. And yes, that’s pathetic.

Also: is this legal? Is this allowed? EBU, are we sure this is part of the rules you follow so strictly? And please, tell me: is harassment also part of those same rules?

But do not worry: in the end, karma found its way. And despite the arrogance, the harassment, the tons of money spent to beg people, none of these means was enough to grant Israel the victory they oh-so-desperately wanted.

On the contrary: in a wonderfully ironic twist, the winner was one of the artists they kept misgendering and harassing. Mmmh, delicious irony, my favorite.

So thank you Israel for wasting money all over YouTube, I hope they were a lot. Thank you to all the people who made a political vote, you really got the spirit of the show, I hope you will never watch it again. Thank you Israeli team for harassing everyone and making an already tense competition even more tense. And, most importantly, thank you EBU for bringing politics in a non-political show: great fucking job, I hope someone will get fired.

And now, let's finally talk about music. Israel's song was nothing special, just the umpteenth bland song I've listened to 200 times already. And we all know it didn't get 300+ votes because everyone was in love with it. People's taste is not so bland and boring. And the final points proved it.

(On a side note, if I were Eden, I would be offended by these votes. At least the people who voted for Loreen last year didn't do it because of Sweden, but because of her talent. This year, I doubt that the people who voted for Eden gave a shit about her talent at all)

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France: I need to make some apologies

Listen, you have to understand: we Italians know that French singers are good. We laugh, we say they’re “so French” and they keep Frenching and everything, but we know they rarely disappoint.

The problem is that France is good at the same things we’re good too. We’re both good at soccer, we’re good with food, wine, fashion. And we’re both good at singing.

So, France, remember: we might make fun of you but my god, your artists are amazing. When Slimane sang that part acapella two meters away from his microphone, I literally got shivers. He is a fucking great singer, his voice is incredible and he deserved more than 7 points.

I know French Frenching, but we should give credit when necessary:

youtube

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Estonia, Spain and basically everyone else: two words and more apologies

Estonia 20th and Spain 22nd? Super robbed. The ignominy. The audacity. They served us beautiful Estonian language and a Spanish gal with a soft voice and that's how they got rewarded? They deserve more and better and people are stupid.

Also, I don’t know what kind of beef Greeks have with Marina, but she was good and doesn’t deserve all of this hate. Also because most of the complaints I've heard about make no sense, so… uh?!

Germany: fucking finally, people gave you votes. Thank you for persevering, your song was truly nice and I liked it too.

Armenia: yes, top 10! For great, lively, wonderful Balkan rhythm! You deserve it and your country deserves love and appreciation.

Italy: I’m okay with this result. Angelina’s performance was better, compared to the one in the semi-finals (also, better costume too, the other was too revealing and too much in general). 7th place is fine.

Ireland: I know that’s not a song for everyone and okay, fine, maybe it’s nothing special either… but my god, have you seen the performance they put on? A-ma-zing. It was interesting, captivating and full of details. And the narrative is perfect too: you can see how Bambie slowly befriends the demon and ends up killing it. It was truly enjoyable to watch. So I’m glad it got 6th place, they deserve an even higher position.

Ukraine: please keep slaying, your artists are always so great and they keep proving it every goddamn time. Also, that moment when Ukraine surpassed Israel was delicious: money truly cannot buy you love and support.

The UK: seriously, why are you whining about people not giving you points? The song was okay, but nothing truly special. Still, you got 18th place! What should Norway say, instead? Poor Norway, it has all my sympathy, the song wasn't this bad.

And now, to you all: you know what to do. Follow your favorites, stream their songs, shower them with love. Eurovision is over, but these artists are not disappearing. They are still out there, making beautiful music. Go check on them.

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Croatia: “the audience will come to my concert, not the jury”

Baby Lasagna was a blessing and as Italian, I want to properly apologize for giving it 16 points total only. You deserved 24, shame on us for being stupid morons.

Croatia gave us a beautiful song, from a beautiful artist with a great message and upbeat sounds. And I’m not the only one who thinks this, because the rest of the public agrees with me. Marko gave us pure joy and entertainment in an evening that was mostly sadness, tension and boredom.

And yes, it’s sad he didn’t win… but he knew it, before Switzerland’s points have been announced. Look at his face, during the final voting: as soon as Petra said Switzerland only needed 182 points, he realized he was going to lose. You can see him understanding and accepting it. He knew Switzerland would get these points. I knew. Everybody knew.

So no, this wasn’t like last year: last year, it was a one-on-one game between Finland and Sweden and a tug-of-war between public and jury. This year, we had a lot of favorites. Marko was the favorite, but if Joost wasn’t disqualified, maybe the points would’ve been even more distributed.

But you know what? Marko actually got the best possible result you can get in Eurovision. People adore you, you become a legend and your country doesn’t have to deal with EBU’s bullshit. You get the best of both worlds and it doesn’t cost you a cent.

Also, consider that Marko accepted his 2nd place graciously and maturely, went back home and was welcomed by basically the whole Zagreb (Let3 were there too! Kings supporting a king, very fitting). And in an interview, he said something like “I don’t care about the jury points, because the jury doesn’t come to my concerts”. Which proves he is:

a mood

a king

the truth oracle

everyone’s spirit animal

the winner of the people

the coolest guy ever

So, Croatia: I understand your disappointment, the jury system REALLY needs to change. And no, you won't host Eurovision next year. But consider that you're everyone's favorite country now. And you won't have to deal with whatever shit will happen in 2025! So sit back, relax, may your tourism thrive and your quality of life be high.

And if all of you people really enjoyed Baby Lasagna, please consider he has a YouTube channel and there are two other songs, besides Rim Tim Tagi Dim. One criticizes social media and the influencer system, while the other is a piece of great life advice from the title: “Don't hate yourself, but don't love yourself too much”. Thank you, king, for being so real.

And in case you’re wondering, yes, they’re both huge bops.

Do your magic, people: subscribe to his channel, stream his songs, watch his videos, shower him with love and, most importantly, meow back.

youtube

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Switzerland: a contest that can live up to its promise

In the end Switzerland won. And it’s a good victory, you know? You might not like the song, but consider that Nemo sang pop, rap and opera, all while jumping on that rotating platform-thingy and running all over the stage. And they even bent back, while keeping a high note and rotating. I can’t even keep a high note by standing still, let alone by doing all the stuff they did.

Also, this is the first victory for a non-binary person, so great for them. And basically no one knew Nemo before Eurovision, so the show came back to its roots, by giving fame to an unknown artist.

Last but not least, in an ironic turn of events, this victory is the least political thing that happened on that stage. In the most polarized, political show ever, the winner is the quintessential neutral country. Almost poetic, in a way.

And this victory is also a huge slap in the face for the EBU: in the end, it wasn't its rigid adherence to the policy that made the show non-political, it was the jury’s vote. How the tables have turned.

But there is another reason why this victory is good after all and it’s because it’s a hopeful one. The winner isn’t famous, they didn’t harass anyone, they didn’t use money to win, they brought nothing besides their identity, a kind heart and a flag they had to sneak in because of the weird “flag rule” EBU pulled out.

And I would like to remind you that, during their victory speech, Nemo said this:

"I hope this contest can live up to its promise and continue to stand for peace and dignity for every person in this world".

I think it’s a speech that tells everything about this year’s show. This year, the contest didn’t live up to its promise: it put people in unnecessary danger, it brought tension, it made it political. EBU’s strictness led to a lot of consequences, the exact ones it tried so desperately to avoid.

As a result, no one enjoyed their time. I didn't enjoy my time. When Sunday came, I was relieved that the week was finally over and I was able to leave Eurovision behind. I didn't feel an ounce of the usual post-Eurovision nostalgia. I was just glad it was over.

And it's sad and unfair, because Eurovision isn't this. Eurovision is a perfect little window of peace and unity, away from the chaos of the world. For a few hours, three evenings a year, we can leave the real problems behind and focus on silly ones, like which country should win, which should be forever ashamed and which artist will become a legend.

This year, it wasn't like that. This year politics found its way in and wrecked everything. What was supposed to be a silly, funny, lighthearted show became so heavily politically charged, it broke under the weight.

And now that I think about it, Nemo breaking the trophy is the perfect metaphorical representation of this year's competition.

Just like that trophy, Eurovision is something frail and beautiful and mishandling can break it. And oh boy, the EBU truly mishandled it. Even if it was an accident, even if it wasn't done on purpose, the trophy is still broken. The show is broken.

But when asked about their broken trophy, Nemo didn't mourn it: Nemo gave words of hope. Maybe the broken trophy can be repaired. And maybe Eurovision can be repaired too.

How? Well, maybe by starting to learn when and how to apply rules. By using common sense and sensibility. And by checking the world outside too. If we want Eurovision to keep being that small window separated from real world problems, we can't just ignore them: we need to check them and react accordingly.

And if we have to break a rule to guarantee peace and safety, then so be it. One broken rule is not as important as safety and unity.

After all, what makes Eurovision isn't a set of rules: it's the artists, with their talents, their messages, their hopes, their voices, their dreams. They are Eurovision. They are the pull that draws everyone in. They are the reason why people are "united by music". Not because a rule orders them to, not because of the EBU: because of these artists.

Maybe the EBU can start from that. Maybe it can start by looking at the human aspect. Maybe it can start by going out and looking around. And maybe it can learn to take more care of the artists who are the foundation of the show.

And maybe, maybe, they will be able to repair Eurovision too.

See you, hopefully, next year.

#eurovision #eurovision 2024 #esc #esc 2024 #sweden #the netherlands #israel #france #croatia #switzerland #baby lasagna #nemo #the artists are eurovision #I hope people will never forget it #thank god this year is over #time to recover now

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wickedwitzh · 25 days

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Something short that I wrote last night when I couldn’t sleep - fits within my broad AU from 2x10 onwards that so far only exists in my head.

Margo x Sergei, 670 words, mature

December 1984

Stockholm is, for the lack of a better word, nice.

Freezing, for sure. Loud, but at the same time, startlingly quiet for a capital. A bit bleak. With streets more narrow than what Margo is used to, and more cars, somehow.

It’s also quite breathtaking, in a very understated sort of way.

And there is snow. Margo has only seen snow a handful times in her life, and seeing the white-ish mass brings her a disproportionate amount of joy that she tries (and fails) to hide from her fellow attendees, especially the Russians.

She is still not quite sure why they are here. Technically it’s a four-way meeting about the future of the international space programme, where the United States and the USSR, flanked by South Korea and China respectively, are supposed to discuss their future endeavours. It’s hosted by the ESA, because the four countries in question could not agree on the logistics and besides, Europe wants its slice of the space cake. And so Margo, and Molly, and Bill, and Aleida, all end up in Stockholm, arguing with the Soviets and the Chinese and even with the Europeans, sometimes.

It’s simultaneously worse and better than the ICA, Margo thinks. Like, sure, the ICA is less interactive, which, on the other hand, means that she doesn’t get tired so easily. And the ICA is about scientific progress, not politics. And the hotels usually have better bars. And the conferences are held in early Autumn, mostly in London, where the temperatures are bearable, and not in Sweden in December, just after the Nobel week.

Margo doesn’t take well to the cold climate. Her nose is running constantly and she doesn’t have proper gloves and she is cold almost all the time, but then… But then. Sergei’s hands are warm against her skin; the heat hits her cheeks when his fingers trace intricate patterns on the inside of her thighs; and when he pushes her against the mattress — gently, but decisively, in such perfect proportions that it makes her go insane with want — for a few moments, the chill disappears.

When he buries himself deep inside her, Margo only sighs with pleasure and twists her hips, all thoughts banished from her head. It’s only after, when they lay, panting, buried under the ridiculously puffy comforter, that she realizes that he’s still, technically, married.

She doesn’t see the ring anymore, though.

“We’ve started the divorce proceedings,” Sergei says into her hair. “It’s as amicable as possible. Jurij has already proposed; Yulia will marry him as soon as our divorce is through.”

It still amazes Margo sometimes, this strange geometric shape of human affairs that Sergei is able to navigate, but she’s met Yulia, she knows that his marriage has been over for quite some time already. It makes her feel a tiny bit better about sleeping with a married man.

They discuss other things too, of course. The Mars programme. The new nuclear fuels. Their coworkers and their bosses and the insane timelines imposed on them.

They talk about these things in between the conference proceedings; on a wooden bench overlooking Skeppsbron; under the bare cherry trees in Kungsträdgården; as they stroll down Kastanjgatan, a little behind the rest of the group that is on the lookout for the next pub where they’ve been told to ask for something called “Norrlands guld”.

They vaguely remember that their babysitters — the KGB and the CIA alike — are trailing somewhere behind them, but it’s terrifyingly easy to pretend that it’s only the two of them, in this strange city that’s oozing European charm but is not popular enough to serve as a backdrop in Hollywood movies.

They get careless, though. They are too open with each other, too happy in each other’s presence. Not to mention the other, more intimate stuff. It’s a stupid mistake that only two people absurdly in love could make. But it’s still a mistake, and as it turns out a few months later, there will be a price to pay.

#margo x sergei #for all mankind #the things that could have been #set in Stockholm because I am ridiculously in love with that city for reasons that I don’t entirely understand #i will probably never write this au as a one fic but I might take the advice about ficlets…

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allthegeopolitics · 5 months

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Thousands of people have protested in the Swedish city of Malmo against Israel’s participation in the Eurovision Song Contest, with Israel’s war on Gaza casting a shadow over the final of the glitzy contest. On Saturday, a large crowd of protesters gathered on the central square of the Swedish host city before marching towards the contest venue, waving Palestinian flags and shouting “Eurovision united by genocide” – a twist on the contest’s official slogan “united by music”. A protester told Al Jazeera that it was unfair that a country that is “committing genocide” was allowed to take part in the event, and he said that demonstrators were upset by the confiscation of Palestinian flags and scarves by the authorities.

#eurovision #Palestine #Israel #Genocide #Gaza

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bluewinnerangel · 1 year

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Flags of Europe Quiz with your host Louis Tomlinson

Basically every Europe show he's one way or another been wearing its flag's colors.. we don't start off strong but he's got more German shows to complete that flag and I almost gave up on this idea with Latvia and Lithuania there but now that he's literally wearing Poland's flag I had to put it together:

1. Hamburg, Germany, 29/08/2023

2. Copenhagen, Denmark, 31/08/2023

3. Oslo, Norway, 01/09/2023

4. Stockholm, Sweden, 02/09/2023

5. Helsinki, Finland, 04/09/2023

6. Tallinn, Estonia, 05/09/2023

7. Riga, Latvia, 07/09/2023

8. Kaunas, Lithuania, 08/09/2023

9. Krakow, Poland, 10/09/2023

10. Lodz, Poland, 11/09/2023 extra pic for the white shoes we tryin

10. Vienna, Austria, 13/09/2023

11. Ljubljana, 14/09/2023 +some blue on the shoes we still tryin

END, Budapest, Hungary, 15/09/2023 he broke it

twas fun

#correct me if im wrong on anything geography is my enemy

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mariacallous · 2 months

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In January 2020, Mexico made history as the first Latin American country to adopt a feminist foreign policy. Pioneered by Sweden six years earlier in 2014, feminist foreign policy (FFP) initially began as a niche effort in the Nordic region. For many years, Sweden stood alone on the global stage, emphasizing that its FFP focused on enhancing women’s “rights, resources, and representation” in the country’s diplomatic and development efforts worldwide. That effort was the result of the vision and leadership of Sweden’s foreign minister at the time, Margot Wallström, although there was widespread support for the policy across the government and it was continued by subsequent ministers.

It would be another three years before other nations followed suit: In 2017, Canada announced a Feminist International Assistance Policy. At the end of 2018, Luxembourg’s new coalition government committed to developing a FFP in their coalition agreement. And in 2019, Mexico and France pledged to co-host a major women’s rights anniversary conference in 2021 while beginning to explore the development of feminist foreign policies simultaneously.

I had an inside view on that process having convened the existing FFP governments and numerous international experts just before Mexico’s announcement. Together, we developed a global definition and framework for FFP. As I wrote for this magazine in January 2020, this approach was largely followed by the Mexican policy. The goals for Mexico in adopting an FFP were to increase the rights of women and LGBTQ+ individuals on the world stage, diversify their diplomatic corps, boost resourcing for gender equality issues, and ensure that internal policies within the foreign ministry aligned with this approach, including a zero-tolerance policy toward gender-based harassment.

Now, under the leadership of a new female foreign minister, Alicia Bárcena, and following the election of Mexico’s first woman president, Claudia Sheinbaum, I was excited to travel to Mexico City in July as it hit another milestone: becoming the first country outside Europe to host the annual ministerial-level conference on FFP. It was an opportunity for me to take stock of what Mexico has achieved since it adopted an FFP, and to see what progress it has made toward its goals.

Initially convened by Germany’s Annalena Baerbock in 2022 and then by the Dutch last year, Mexico took a unique approach to the conference by focusing it on a specific policy issue—in this case, the forthcoming Summit of the Future. This conference, taking place at the U.N. General Assembly in September, aims to begin laying the groundwork for the successor goals to the Sustainable Development Goals framework. It is already a fraught and polarized process, and progressive leadership is sorely needed.

Last week provided clear evidence that Mexico is making progress in modeling that leadership—including in consistently advocating for progressive language in often contentious international multilateral negotiations, such as the United Nations Climate Change Conference (COP). For example, in its interventions at the latest COP, Mexico placed human rights, intersectionality and gender equity at the heart of climate action and recognized the role of women environmental defenders and Indigenous women in a just transition.

“Mexico is often a lone voice in holding the line on critical human rights, Indigenous rights and gender equality language at the climate talks, even among the FFP countries,” said Bridget Burns, the executive director of the Women’s Environment and Development Organization who has spent the last 15 years organizing women’s rights activists in climate negotiations and attended the July conference to speak on the sustainable development panel.

Mexico’s decision to link their hosting of the FFP Conference to the Summit of the Future—as evidenced in an outcome document they published and are circulating for signature ahead of the General Assembly’s high-level week in September—challenged FFP governments to engage a feminist approach in mainstream foreign policy dialogue, not just in gender-related discussions like the U.N. Commission on the Status of Women. “The Summit of the Future aspires to a better tomorrow, but lofty goals won’t translate to real systemic change without feminist civil society,” said Sehnaz Kiymaz, senior coordinator of the Women’s Major Group.

On the multilateral front, Mexico has shown leadership by co-chairing the Feminist Foreign Policy Plus Group (FFP+) at the UN, alongside Spain. This body held the first ministerial-level meeting on FFP at the General Assembly last year and adopted the world’s first political declaration on FFP. Signed by 18 countries, governments pledged “to take feminist, intersectional and gender-transformative approaches to our foreign policies,” and outlined six areas for action in this regard. This was the first time FFP countries publicly pledged to work together as a group to address pressing global challenges through a feminist approach. While smaller subsets of this cohort have worked together multilaterally to condemn women’s rights rollbacks in Afghanistan or in support of an international legal framework on the right to care and be cared for, the first big test of this more systematic approach will be the forthcoming Summit of the Future, where feminists have been advocating for gender to be referenced as a cross-cutting priority.

Mexico has also recently ratified two international instruments to directly benefit women: Convention 189 of the International Labor Organization (ILO) on domestic workers and Convention 190 of the ILO on violence and harassment in the workplace. Under the mantle of its FFP, Mexico has championed the importance of care work in the advancement of women’s rights and countries’ development at the U.N. Human Rights Council and at the Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean through the Global Alliance for Care Work.

While international women’s rights activists at the conference largely gave positive feedback on Mexico’s track record, the response from Mexican civil society was more critical. Activists organized a side event to present their more skeptical view of Mexican FFP. María Paulina Rivera Chávez, a member of the Mexican coalition and an organizer of the event, argued a conference could only go so far. “It is fundamental to decenter the state, understanding that feminist foreign policies must be horizontal,” she said.

A major theme of that side event and of Mexican activists’ interventions in the official ministerial conference was the incongruence of the Mexican government’s leadership on feminist approaches internationally while women’s human rights at home have suffered. Such criticisms of the Andrés Manuel López Obrador government are not unfounded. In one particularly troubling interview a few years ago, he suggested that Mexico’s high rate of femicide—11 women are murdered daily, with rates on the rise compared to other crimes—was merely a false provocation by his political opponents. Negative biases against women are pervasive in Mexico, with 90 percent of the population holding such biases.

Mexico has made strides in improving gender equality in other areas, however. Women now make up half of the Mexican legislature and have been appointed to lead high-level institutions, such as the Supreme Court, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the Central Bank, with cascading positive effects on gender equality. Bárcena, for instance, clearly asserted from her first speech on the job that Mexico’s FFP would remain a top priority. This is no accident. At the federal level, significant efforts have been made to enforce gender parity laws and implement more than 80 percent of the legal frameworks promoting, enforcing and monitoring gender equality as stipulated by international benchmarks. Mexican women have also seen some improvements in maternal mortality rates, access to internet services, and protections to the right to abortion, with numerous national commitments to improve gender equality, such as measures to alleviate the burden of care on women.

But while there has been an increase in the number of women in the legislature and government positions, women from Indigenous, Afro-descendent, and working-class backgrounds continue to be underrepresented in political roles. And there has been a steady increase over the last decade in femicides, disappearances and sexual violence which Mexican feminist organizations and international actors have found are directly linked to the militarization of law enforcement under the guise of Mexico’s war on drugs and organized crime.

Additional criticisms of the Mexican FFP itself include the foreign ministry’s insularity and reluctance to engage with Mexican feminist activists in the development and implementation of its FFP. There was also a hesitation by the previous foreign ministry leadership to collaborate with Inmujeres, Mexico’s gender ministry, preferring to keep control of the FFP within the foreign ministry alone. It is not uncommon for gender ministries to be excluded in foreign policymaking as they are often perceived as lacking the necessary expertise or authority on foreign policy. However, Inmujeres is an exception in this regard and the criticism was valid. This was on my mind as I participated in the conference last month, and straight out of the gate I could observe a clear departure from the past approach under Bárcena’s leadership: The foreign ministry officially partnered with Inmujeres to co-host the conference, and the heads of both agencies were equally prominent voices throughout the three-day event. Similarly, the foreign ministry also made efforts to engage Mexican feminist civil society in conference planning, inviting civil society to a consultation day in the weeks leading up to the conference.

Following the right-wing electoral successes and likely abandonment of FFP in countries like Sweden, Argentina, and potentially the Netherlands, the success of a Mexican model of FFP is all the more important. Mexican activists I spoke with expressed optimism about Bárcena’s leadership, which they had not extended to her predecessor. Certainly, there is some cynicism about whether Mexico’s next president, a woman, will be any better on the issue of femicide than her mentor and predecessor, López Obrador, but there is some room for hope. If the leadership of a female foreign minister like Bárcena has been more effective in mobilizing political and convening power behind FFP, there’s potential that Sheinbaum will also show more interest than her predecessor.

While Mexican civil society has critiqued that Sheinbaum did not present a plan on how she would continue and improve the country’s FFP and repair the government’s relationship with feminist civil society, Sheinbaum’s plan—entitled 100 Pasos Para La Transformación—takes a human rights-based approach to gender equality. This is promising, because political approaches, which are more common, tend to reduce the human rights of women, girls, and gender-diverse persons as a means to an end, such as better economic, education, or health outcomes. The plan proposes measures to alleviate the care burden on women, safeguard sexual and reproductive health and rights, protect LGBTQ+ communities, promote gender parity in cabinets, improve land rights for rural women, reduce femicides, and more.

That Sheinbaum has not explicitly addressed the importance of Mexico’s FFP is not necessarily surprising. Most feminist and women’s rights organizations are understandably more focused on issues within their own borders, and foreign policy rarely drives political power and the focus of the electorate. Discussion of feminist foreign policy is thus typically the domain of the foreign minister and in some cases other relevant ministers—such as international development in Germany, or the trade ministry in Sweden under its previous government. (Canada’s Justin Trudeau stands out as a rare exception, having championed feminism and Canada’s feminist approach to policymaking at the Group of Seven and international gender equality forums throughout his tenure as prime minister.)

But even without top-down leadership from a president, savvy officials within the Mexican foreign and gender ministries are using FFP to make progress. While there has not yet been a public accounting of the progress made in implementing FFP, the clear leadership Mexico is demonstrating on the world stage in key negotiations, its successful conference, and the anticipated new government set the stage for Mexico to boldly advance its FFP. It will serve as a valuable example to the world.

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