#strong jewish women

[lostinsidelostoutside]

This comes from aish.com and I love it 💙

These are very brave women and more important they are survivors.

Yaffa Adar survived the Holocaust and Hamas 💙

Rachel edir distracted the terrorists for 20 hours saving herself and her husband 💙

Adina Moshe a hostage ,helped kids and others in Hamas tunnels 💙

Rimon Kirsht Stared down her Hamas captor while keeping her arm around meirav tal 💙

The all female Tank crews from the Paran Brigade eliminated over 50 Hamas terrorists 💙💙

Amazing 💙

These women are strong , courageous and brave and an inspiration in courage 💙

[malkahpariyz]

National Women’s Day

March 8th , 2024

Movie of the day : Kemba (2024)

Take a good look at the story of a woman. 👩🏾

- The Modest Blog

[reanimatedgh0ul]

debating whether or not sam would watch this show kinda inclined to say yes tbh

[i-am-the-staci-evans]

ALYSON BAUER

Alyson is the main female character of the YA/NA romance/drama series, The One Series. She's a mean girl, a cheerleader, a blonde, and she's popular. She's everything that you should hate with every fiber of your being. But she's not the villain. She's the antihero. She's not even a real blonde!

She's the founder and leader of the early 2000s' pop vocal act, UTurn. Lead female singer. Lead songwriter and music producer. The center and the visual.

Sure, she has villain-like qualities, but she goes out of her way to protect her friends from their shady managers. She's the Alpha of this series, a role that should've been given to a man, but it's given to a woman instead. No matter what's thrown at her, Alyson will burn everything to the ground if it means she and her friends will have rights to their own band.

Get The One Series now on Amazon today. Available in both Kindle Unlimited and paperback.

[psychologeek]

I love it so much thank you 😍

I think about Miryam the prophet (idk as who)

and Yehudit (as Mulan, maybe?)

Or maybe Hulda as Mulan?

This is lovely 🏵️🏵️

Famous Jewish royalty and nobility as Disney Princesses:

Growing up, I loved Disney Princesses, but I never saw any representation of Jewish princesses. Which was a shame, because I grew up with stories of strong Jewish women, I just never got to see their stories in mainstream media. I have two younger sisters, and I wish they could grow up seeing just one Disney Princess from our culture and heritage. So, being an artist, I decided to take the five classic white princesses, and redesign them to be five strong Jewish royalty and nobility. I decided to represent a large swath of time periods and locations, just like Disney Princess stories cover different time periods and locations, and to celebrate the diversity of Jewish history. So, let's go!

Queen Esther

For Cinderella, I chose to depict Queen Esther, because they both share themes of concealing one's identity. Esther is the heroine of Megillat Esther, a book in the Tanakh. She was forced to become the wife of the Persian king Achashverosh, but because of it she was able to save the Jewish people from genocide at the hands of Haman. Queen Esther might be a "typical" choice, but I think that not many people truly appreciate her and her story, despite how well-known it is.

Qasmuna

For Belle, I chose the poet Qasmuna, because Belle is a studious woman, and Qasmuna was a scholar and a poet. Qasmuna was an Arabic-language Andalusian poet during the middle ages. Not much is known about her, but she is one of the very few recorded Jewish Arabic-language poets of her time. Some sources attribute her to having been the vizier Shmuel HaNagid (Samuel Ibn Nagrillah)'s daughter, making her the closest to royalty as was possible for a Dhimmi at the time. I depicted her wearing lavish clothing, but also wearing a yellow shawl and a gold calf necklace to signify her Dhimmitude.

Licoricia of Winchester

For Aurora, I chose to depict Licoricia of Winchester since Disney's Sleeping Beauty takes place in England. Licoricia was a 13th century English businesswoman and community leader. She funded and lent money to prominent gentile figures at the time, including King Henry III. She is considered one of the most influencial Jewish women in her time. She was murdured, possibly in a robbery, but her murderer had never been found or held accountable. I based her outfit off of the recently unvailed statue of her in Winchester, England.

Queen of Sheba

For Ariel, I chose to depict the Queen of Sheba, since they both traveled long ways to a different place. The Queen of Sheba is mentioned in the Tanakh and Apocrypha, as well as folktales. She traveled to the Kingdom of Israel to meet King Shlomo and test his wisdom. Many have attributed her to being the woman voice in Shlomo's Song of Songs. She was a powerful and wealthy leader, and almost managed to best Shlomo in knowledge. According to tradition, she converted to Judaism and travled back to Ethiopia and led her people towards Judaism.

Queen Shelmazion

For Snow White, I chose to depict Queen Shelamzion. Queen Shelamzion was one of the last independent Jewish rulers of Judea before the total Roman takeover. Roman sources absolutely smeared her name, likely because Shelamzion was a powerful Jewish woman who opposed the Roman occupation. However, Shelamzion was a good rular, who attempted to make peace among her people, and is credited with saving seventy sages from Roman slaughter. It is said that because of her righteousness, during her rule, it rained only on Shabbat so that farmers would not miss out on needed worktime due to the rain, since they weren't working on Shabbat anyway, and that the harvest in Judea were always bountiful.

I hope you learned something and appreciate my depictions of Jewish Disney Princesses :)

I have a ko-fi if you'd like to tip, but there's absolutely no obligation.

[id in alt text]

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Hedy Lamarr (Samson and Delilah, Ziegfeld Girl)—Look. I'm sure someone has already submitted Hedy Lamarr because she was spectacularly beautiful, and a very strong lady too: she fled both an abusive marriage AND nazi persecution at a very young age and rebuilt a life for herself pursuing her love for acting all on her own!! Her career as an actress was stellar; while she began acting outside of Hollywood (her very first movie, Ecstasy, won a prize at the Venice Film Festival), she conquered American hearts very quickly with her first movie in the US, Algiers, and then just kept getting better and better. If all this isn't enough, she was also an inventor: her invention of the frequency-hopping spread spectrum radio transmission technique forms the base of bluetooth and has a lot of applications in all kinds of communication technologies. I think that deserves a prize, don't you?

Marilyn Monroe (How to Marry a Millionaire, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Some Like It Hot)— Ngl I thought you all were lying about sexual attraction until I saw Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Hedy Lamarr:

The only person you can find both on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and in the Inventor's Hall of Fame--her radio-frequency-hopping technology forms the basis for cordless phones, wi-fi, and a dozen other aspects of modern life. She was also passionate in her efforts to aid the Allies in WWII (unsurprising for a Jewish-Austrian Emigree to America), and her name served as the backbone for one of the best running jokes in what is possibly Mel Brooks' best movie. Look, Louis B. Mayer apparently believed he could plausibly promote her as "The world's most beautiful woman". Is an entire website full of people going to be less audacious than one Louis B. Mayer? I didn't think so!

Described as "Hedy has the most incredible personal sophistication. She knows the peculiarly European art of being womanly; she knows what men want in a beautiful woman, what attracts them, and she forces herself to be these things. She has magnetism with warmth, something that neither Dietrich nor Garbo has managed to achieve" by Howard Sharpe, she managed to escape her controlling husband (and Nazi Germany) by a) Disguising as her maid and fleeing to Paris or b) Convincing the husband to let her wear all of her jewelry to a dinner, only to disappear afterwards. Also she was particularly clever and helped develop Frequency-Hopping Spread Spectrum (I can't really explain it but anyway...)

Her depiction of Delilah and Samson and Delilah just lives rent free in my head. The woman was gorgeous.

One of the most beautiful women ever in film, spoken by many critics and fans. Beautiful shapely figure, deeper seductive voice, and often played femme fatale roles. She was also brilliant and an inventor. Mainly self-taught, she invested her spare time, including on set between takes, in designing and drafting inventions, which included an improved traffic stoplight and a tablet that would dissolve in water to create a flavored carbonated drink, and much more.

Gorgeous and brilliant pioneer of modern technology and the middle part.

Marilyn Monroe:

She's amazing!!! A classic bombshell, as well as a strong women who overcame so many obstacles. She also advocated for others, like Ella Fitzgerald.

That fucking saxophone that cuts in whenever she appears on screen in Some Like it Hot

I mean, it's Marilyn Monroe. She's adorable. She's gorgeous. She funny. She's the total package

She's the original American sex symbol, an iconic beautiful woman with eyes you could get lost in, legs for days, gorgeous hair, and a cute tummy. Her voice! Just listen to her voice!!!!!

She is considered one of THE sex symbols of the 1960s and one of the greatest actresses of all time! She HAS to be on this list!

no vintage movie woman is more iconically hot

People are most familiar with pictures of her in the white dress or the Happy Birthday Mr President one, but imo she is at her most beautiful and looks most comfortable when she is photographed by women like Eve Arnold

It’s Marilyn Monroe. If Aphrodite was an actual person, she’d be Marilyn. Do I really need to say more?

What can I say that hasn't been said? Marilyn's legacy is so much bigger than she was in life. She's a defining symbol of 50s and 60s Hollywood sex and it's obvious why. She was absolutely stunning and the camera loved her.

[scarlet--wiccan]

Agatha All Along, the highly anticipated follow-up to WandaVision, begins airing this week on Disney+. Now is the perfect to revisit some important information about both shows and the context in which some of Agatha's new characters are being introduced.

WandaVision primarily followed the character Wanda Maximoff and expanded on her family history by introducing her late parents as well her twin sons, who are born from magic and age rapidly over the course of the series.

In the Marvel comics source material, Wanda is part of a large, multigenerational family of Jewish and Romani characters whose stories frequently reflect the systemic violence and oppression that both communities face-- including Romani Holocaust victims, who are critically underrepresented in both education and media. In the MCU, these identities and histories are completely erased, and the characters are all played by white actors. Alternate versions of these characters also appear in the Fox X-Men films, and are similarly whitewashed.

The Romani people are a racialized minority that originated as a South Asian diaspora, and who face severe systemic oppression in Europe and North America. The modern Romani population is quite diverse, but they are not of white ethnic origin, and despite the fact that Wanda and her family have historically been drawn with white features, they are minority characters and ought to be considered as such.

Depictions of witches and witchcraft are often entwined with antisemitism and anti-Romani racism. In pop culture, witches and fortunetellers are typically portrayed as visual stereotypes of Romani women. In the real world, fortunetelling is a profession born from survival work, one which Romani families are often heavily policed and racially profiled for practicing. While Wanda usually subverts these tropes, they are often played straight elsewhere in the superhero genre, and any story about witches, especially one featuring Romani characters, needs to be critiqued in this context.

Agatha All Along introduces viewers to a new cast of characters, including Lilia Calderu, played by Patti LuPone, and the enigmatic "Teen", played by Joe Locke, who is heavily speculated to be an incarnation of Wanda's son, Billy.

In the comics, Lilia is a member of a prominent Romani family in Wanda's community. Often lauded as the "witch queen of the gypsies," Lilia embodies many racial stereotypes about Romani women. In Agatha All Along, Lilia is depicted as an older Sicilian woman, however, being portrayed as a batty fortuneteller with a tawdry psychic shop, she still embodies an offensive trope. Although Lilia is far from "good" representation, this is not an improvement-- if anything, it's even more exploitative.

Billy was raised in a Jewish American household and places a very strong emphasis on his Jewish identity, in addition to having Romani heritage. His identity as a young gay man is always presented in conjunction with this heritage, not in spite of it. Though there is a significance to Locke being a gay actor playing a gay character, his casting-- if he is indeed playing Billy-- is not authentic. White gay representation should not supersede racial inclusivity, and it is not an excuse for whitewashing or Jewish erasure.

Marvel Studios recently announced that the character Doctor Doom will be played by Robert Downey Jr., who is returning to the franchise after many years in the role of Iron Man. In the source material, Doom is also a Romani character with a very similar background to Wanda's. This identity is central to Doom's character-- although he is written to be both morally and politically challenging, the liberation of his people has always been a primary motive.

Clearly, this type of whitewashing is an ongoing pattern in the MCU franchise. Although "Teen's" identity is still unconfirmed and Lilia may, ultimately, be of little consequence, they are part of a larger problem, and Agatha All Along needs to critiqued in that context.

[lizbethborden]

There really is no female Jeremy Allen White. He is an objectively weird looking man who is now considered a heartthrob and is playing Springsteen in a new biopic--that's a romantic hero role if ever there was one. I'm not saying that's bad or wrong but I am saying no woman who naturally looks as wonky as he does would have success like him. Like he is actually UGLIER than young Bruce was.

They UGLIFIED Bruce Springsteen by casting him.

Meanwhile, women in human reality like Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Gilda Radner, who HAD strong, distinct features like his, are being played by these people in fictionalized versions of their lives:

The fact that this is how history is choosing to remember these women is insane and bizarre. Truly, you cannot exist as a woman in public eye or public memory unless you are ornamental. Worse than ornamental, you must be generically ornamental, made on an assembly line, as female beauty often is now via plastic surgery.

I feel that this kind of commentary is not being made because it's politically suspect to talk about women's looks--and don't get me wrong, I understand what's at stake in terms of not just human emotion, but falling into misogynist traps. But we MUST recognize that this is a problem. It's one thing for fictional women with no basis in reality to be cookie cutter--not a good thing, but certainly a different thing. But for real women who actually existed to have their simple, natural, human characteristics erased and replaced with flavor of the month plastic surgeried generic Hollywood Female nonsense is disrespectful in the extreme. (Especially because Gilda Radner and RBG were Jewish and their Jewish features would have deeply impacted their lives.)

[bobemajses]

Jewish bride and her mother in Djerba, Tunisia, 1983

The Tunisian Jewish bride was hennaed first by her mother-in-law, and then the following day again by a professional artist. The bride would sleep with the henna and strings overnight. In the morning, the women come to the bride’s house to check if the henna came out nicely; if it is good, they kiss her fingers and praise her beauty. If the colour is not strong enough, then they henna her again; all in all, the bride is hennaed about four or five times over the course of a week. The Jews of Djerba continued this tradition well into the 20th century.

[drdemonprince]

I am a trans man and I have lots in common with cis men.

I am a Jewish man, and my “ethnic” white features are the ones that trans men meet with fear and revulsion: hairiness, balding, shortness, and carrying weight in my hips and ass. I look like my father, my grandfather, and my brother. I will not apologize for that.

I am a queer man, and I love and defend my queerness. I get de-gendered and they/themmed because I am expressive, I am dynamic, and I am loud. I love drag, I love to queen out, I love gay mens’ history and culture. I love leather, I love kink, and I love seeing other people like me in those spaces. I love to feel, see, hear, touch and connect with other men— cis and trans.

I am a disabled man. I have that in common with cis men too. Men who are afraid they are not manly enough because they are not physically strong, because they cannot endure hard labor, or work out or play sports. Men who are “weak” for being mentally ill, or autistic, or expressing their emotions at inappropriate times. Autistic men who have “childish” interests and are terrified of being mocked for them, or who can only enjoy what they love “ironically”.

I am on HRT. I have that in common with hundreds of men who have naturally lower testosterone, and older men. I wear a binder, which is something I have in common with men with gynecomastia.

The longer I transition, the more the constellation of traits that make me “clockable” or “non passing” as trans shifts, and takes on new meaning. Yes, I have wide hips, a big ass, I am short, I am queer, I am mentally ill. No, I am not like “the average” man. But I see myself reflected in new places all the time.

I am a person who wields the privileges of whiteness and male gender. I am constantly learning how to be humble, how to let others speak, and how to be in mutuality and support instead of “protective”. I see this same struggle in other men in activism, who have been assumed to be leaders, but now need to learn to follow, and learn to listen.

I am a man, straightforwardly. Other men are my brothers, and I love them. Women are my sisters, and I care for them and want them to walk freely in the world. No person is not my kin, and I want them to be liberated. All our fights are entwined.

Thanks for making the space to share this.

An absolutely beautiful message, thank you.

[buddhistmusings]

A lot of transphobia is really an extension of antisemitism.

"They want to make our men feminine"

"They want to take away our women's fertility"

But when you pause to ask who "they" are, it really comes down to a series of choose-your-own-adventure antisemitic conspiracies. Soros, huh? Oh, it's the globalist elites?

And even when it is not itself an antisemitic conspiracy, I really do think it operates similarly to antisemitism. Conspiracy is at the heart of both. They both suggest that there's an outsized influence of a quite small minority of people. They both require the policing of the behaviors of people not in the group in question. People who do not behave according to mainstream expectations can have their loyalties questioned or have it suggested that they're somehow under the pernicious influences of the targeted group. Children's well-being is invoked often in both antisemitic and transphobic rhetoric, despite the obvious fact that both transphobia and antisemitism are themselves threats to the wellbeing of children.

They also are both the targets of Christian nationalism and involve religious elements.

One interesting version of this is the narrative that both groups also need to be protected. You'll often find that Christian nationalists, if they aren't outright hateful, invoke Jews as a group they should be taking care of and protecting, even as they demean them. I notice something similar when people talk about trans men, who, of course, they do not see as men, needing to be protected from the threat of transition. In both cases, neither group is understood on their own terms, but on the utility they have for Christian ideology (which in the case of transmisandry is deeply related to misogyny, on the premise that trans men are really women, and women do not have agency).

They both alternate between demonization and infantalization. Between being a strong, powerful group that controls society and being a weak, confused group that needs to be controlled by a paternalistic Christian hand.

Now, I'm saying this as somebody who belongs to the trans+ umbrella, though my relationship with gender itself is nebulous and confusing, but not as somebody who is Jewish, so I am not qualified to speak from a personal standpoint on that perspective. I am sure that people who are members of both groups would have a lot of insights that I would not notice!

[yourheartinyourmouth]

the 1970s are over, you don’t have to get a nose job to get a husband anymore (you don’t need a husband!)

please your face is so beautiful with its natural features you don’t need to look more central european

hate hate hate rhinoplasty ads that target jewish people (esp jewish women). jewish women your noses are great dont listen to people who want to use antisemitism to profit off of your insecurities

[randomshyperson]

Shameless - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The book club forces Wanda to go to a bookstore in downtown Westview, where she meets you. Or the one where Wanda tries a new hobby and finds a reason to end her marriage.

Warnings: (+16), some dirty implications but nothing explicit, mentions of make-out, no cheating (but intent), strangers to lovers, milf-horny wanda, compulsory heterosexuality and mentions of homophobia, an attempt at the 80s scene, some angst but a happy ending. | Words: 7.525k

A/N-> I don’t know where this came from.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

The book club had been Agatha's idea.

A harmless little pastime is how she would describe it during the weekly community meeting. Some short and simple speech about how modern housewives needed distractions while their husbands were at work and the kids were at school, anything that would please the ears of the preacher and the town council enough for the men to ignore the remnants of card games or bottles of alcohol that appeared whenever Agatha organized any “ladies' meetings” - as she liked to describe it.

Wanda and almost all the other women were happy to participate - and that is, almost all of them since Dorothy had not joined anything Agatha was involved in for two years now, ever since the blonde refused to visit the nightclub that was inaugurated downtown, commenting that it was not a suitable place for family ladies, and in Wanda's opinion, missing out on one of the most fun evenings she had ever had.

This time, Agatha's new invention was weekly meetings of a book club, which for the older woman, was the perfect excuse to get away from her husband Ralph and his strong odor of cheap beer and their grumpy son who apparently didn't know how to take glasses to the sink. Two hours a week to stay off chores and focus on her friends, and as a bonus, to read and discuss the literature she would have had access to if higher education was something women were encouraged to earn.

Wanda was one of the few in the quiet Westview who had a degree - It had been a shared dream of her and her mother Natalya, who wished to see both her children off to college and it was a fortunate thing that it happened before her sad passing. The most unfair thing about that was that despite her mother's wishes for Wanda’s independence, once Natalya was gone, all that Erik did was encourage her to leave college and look for a husband, the last of which Wanda eventually gave in to in her senior year. Jarvis Vision Stark was a couple of years older than her and was completing his degree in Engineering, and to almost everyone in her class, that had to be true love. He was a good-looking young man, with a good family and education, and he seemed so in love with her. With that in mind, Wanda tried to love Vision with the same intensity that he said he did, but with the passing of the years, and the arrival of the children, the fantasy dissolved into a boring routine and conformism.

Despite those issues, her twins, Billy and Tommy, were her most precious treasure. And they were also the only thing keeping her marriage on track, Wanda dared to think.

Getting a divorce, in the traditional Christian-Jewish community of Westview, would be a scandal under any circumstances. Sometimes, when she ventured to imagine being someone with this kind of courage, Wanda could only imagine the look of disappointment on her father's face when he heard the news, and the thought was soon shoved away like dirty clothes in the washing machine.

At least Wanda had Agatha. Her long-time, trusting friend, with whom she could share torments like this, and complain about slack-jawed, obstinate husbands.

And there was also now the book club.

Westview only had one library close to home, and well, Agatha had been clear in her instructions. No cheap or religious literature, she warned with a cigarette between her lips, gesturing with one hand when one of the girls asked about what the first meeting would be like. 

"Bring something interesting." Agatha suddenly gave a little smile, the same kind when she managed to bring a bottle of liquor hidden away for the Saturday church service. "Scandalous, if you dare."

They all sighed in surprise, complicit for the whole thing. Some began to whisper among themselves, but Wanda knew what she would have to do. There was nothing of the sort in Westview, so she would have to leave the residential neighborhood.

She woke up on Tuesday, dropped the kids off at school, and made breakfast. for Vision, who didn't even bother to say thank you, not happy to hear that Wanda was going out, but courteous enough to offer her a ride, which she declined almost immediately. She had the distinct impression that it was a way of being monitored, and she couldn't bear to deal with it when she was already so nervous. 

Taking the bus downtown, she went straight to the new commercial village of Westview. She caught a glimpse of some neighbors, who worked in the local shops but didn't say hello to any of them.

She walked until she found a bookstore, a small, old building with carts full of books at the door and advertisements that, although scattered and colorful, were easy to understand. It was a very cozy place, which made Wanda smile for a quick fantasy about having tried to work with books after her graduation if she hadn't been pregnant at the time.

A bell rang when she entered, but no one greeted her for the first few minutes she was inside. It gave her just enough time to go to one of the nearest bookshelves and run her fingers through the rows of books, a smile playing on her lips.

"Didn't you hear the door, Pchelka (little bee)?" A voice caught her attention, and Wanda turned, trying to see between the shelves. At a glance, short, red hair attracted her eye, and she blinked to find the face of a very pretty woman offering her a gentle smile. "One minute, sweetheart. We'll be right with you."

Wanda opened her mouth to say she wasn't in a hurry, sympathetic to the number of books the redhead was carrying, but in the next second, the woman disappeared between the columns and she didn’t have a chance to say anything at all. 

The bookstore remained empty and silent for another half minute, but once Wanda made mention of turning her attention back to the books behind her, a ladder opened from the ceiling, and out of it jumped a figure in an apron, and out of instinct, Wanda hopped away. 

"So sorry for the scare, Miss." You apologized with a soft chuckle at the scene, closing the attic in a single motion and running your hands through your hair and shoulders in an effort to blow off some of the dust. "We are reviewing the inventory. How can I be of assistance?"

Her breath caught in her throat at the image of your gentle and playful smile. She felt so foolish.  In all her 32 years, when was the last time she had been tongue-tied, if ever? 

You raised one of your eyebrows, and repeated the question, bringing a new color to her cheeks. Wanda broke into a clumsy giggle at the same second.

"Sorry, you caught me by surprise." She managed to cover it up, adjusting a lock of her hair and then moving her hands to smooth her clothes, suddenly unsure what to do with herself. "I’m…looking for a book."

You cracked another smile, finding the scene quite amusing. This older, breathtaking woman, all shy and adorable around you. "Well, we have lots of those." You teased, and Wanda felt her stomach do a complete turn at the sound of your raspy giggle. Maybe she was getting sick. Yeah, that would explain her body’s out-of-control reactions.   "What are you looking for, or perhaps a name...?"

"Wanda." She interrupts, and you frown in confusion. Taking a deep breath, she holds out her hand. "I am Wanda Maximoff."

Despite the strangeness of the moment and the fact that she didn't understand that you wanted the name of the book and not hers, you smiled warmly and repeated the gesture. Wanda has never hated work gloves as she does now, a curiosity burning to know what your skin would feel like on hers, the thought bringing such a strong color to her ears that she needs to look away immediately, barely catching the name that you mention next.

She clears her throat, and adds: "I'm actually joining a book club and the only guidance we had was to bring something interesting." And she risks looking you in the eye to add. "Scandalous."

You find it funny, even adorable if you could put it that way. Maybe it's because of the color of her face when she says it. Or maybe it's because these college students - Wanda judges you to be one for your apparent age - are more modern than she would have been and don't bother with this sort of subject.

"Hm, I think I can help with that." You retort with a thoughtful expression, beckoning for Wanda to follow you deeper into the store and she does so only after taking a deep breath.

The columns of poetry make her bite her lip in curiosity, some of the names Wanda recognizes from her own years as a student, but it is only when you are in the last aisle with the little gold plaque labeled "Sapphic Literature" that Wanda thinks she has stopped breathing.

You do everything very calmly. Climbing up one of the stairs, and taking some time to read the titles, you take a small book from one of the higher shelves and walk back to Wanda, whose face is almost Natasha's hair color now.

With a smile, you hold out the book, but don't let go, holding the item as she does. 

"There's nothing more scandalous than this for a small town like Westview." You say. "But if it's too much, Miss Maximoff, I can always suggest something different. You know, like stuff about the first war or Russian philosophy..."

"N-no, this is fine." She interrupts you, grabbing the book strongly and pulling it close to her chest. You don't know if she's trying to hide it or keep it from fleeing, but it makes you chuckle. "Thanks for the help."

"No problem." You reply, studying that face for a moment. Wanda swallows dry but holds your gaze. You clear your throat as soon as you realize you're staring. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

She almost sighs, her knees going weak at just the line her thoughts take. Shaking her head, she offers you a small smile. "No, that will be all." She says and practically runs off to the edge of the store, back to the cashier.

The redheaded woman is taking care of the payment now, and Wanda doesn't notice the look you exchange with her because she's too busy sensing your presence coming behind her.

"Excuse me, Miss Maximoff, let me wrap this up for you." Your whisper near her ear makes her shudder from head to toe, and it is fortunate that you grab the book from her as Wanda is sure she would have dropped it on the floor.

You walking away is the only reason Wanda's legs stop shaking.

"Good choice, ma'am." Commented the attendant as soon as you put the book on the counter to be scanned. Wanda noticed the small badge spelled out in silver letters "Natasha" stuck to her apron. "We are also fond of sapphic literature around here." She added with a complicit smile.  Wanda didn't understand why it seemed like a code for something, she was too distracted by the movements of your hands storing the book in a pretty bag. She remembers forcing a smile, paying with trembling fingers and practically running out of the bookstore, feeling your gaze burning into her back.

The bell made another noise on the way out, and with the bookstore empty, Natasha's laughter filled the air.

"How do you always find our people?" Questioned the other impressed, but you laughed short, shrugging.

"I won't deny that I have this ability, but in this case, how can you say? You saw her for like, three seconds."

Natasha shook her head, checking the cashier. "Oh, please, she was eye-fucking you this whole three seconds.” Declared the redhead, ignoring your protest at her choice of words. "Besides, it's kind of obvious by her not freaking out over sapphic poetry, isn't it?"

You sigh, somewhat disbelieving. "I don't know, people are more friendly nowadays." You try, but Natasha gestures away as if she doesn't agree.

"Your problem is that you're too naive, Parker." Retorted the redhead with an amused expression. "Women like me, experienced not old, are not so friendly. We come from different times, different generations. You couldn't go around reading gay literature anywhere, hardly found any to be fair. If she wasn't like us, she would have caused a scene at the mere suggestion."

"Alright, Romanoff, I believe you." You grumbled begrudgingly while grabbing one of the last boxes to be checked off the desk. "But that doesn't mean she was interested in me." You stated, but Nat snorted incredulously.

"I bet you five bucks she'll be back next week!" Retorted the redhead, but you only chuckled, letting her increase the bet as the distance grew.

-&-

A tense silence grew with every second in the crowded room. 

Wanda sat there, almost not breathing until she finally realized what she had just done. Read. The room began to spin next. She gripped the pages hard enough to wreck the book in her lap, but just as panic was about to overwhelm her, someone sighed loudly.

"Well, that was definitely scandalous." It was Monica, and the good humor of the comment made the room explode into little giggles.

The girls began commenting among themselves excitedly in the same second, some still somewhat hesitant and embarrassed, but definitely thrilled about the whole thing. Wanda felt a gentle hand on the back of her back, through the exposed part of the plastic chair.

"Just breathe, Wanda, everything's fine." It was Agatha, who was still sitting next to her. Who didn't hate her for reading a passage from Emily Dickinson in the middle of the book club, who was still her best friend. Wanda only managed to mumble a weak, whiny yes, and Agatha looked at her with concern before announcing to the entire room that they would take a break before the next reading. Wanda doesn't remember getting up, but she didn't breathe normally again until on the outside balcony of the Harkness Residence. "Here, honey."

The glass of water helped, and Wanda had just returned it to Agatha when the window door opened again. It was Monica, with an almost proud smile, who spoke only after sliding the glass door closed again.

"I have to say, Wanda, you have guts." Her friend joked, and Wanda grimaced.

"What...?"

"I didn't know there were more of us in Westview, Aggie. You could have told me." Monica complained to the older woman, giving Agatha's arm a gentle pat. But the woman just smiled awkwardly, looking at Wanda as if she were seeing her for the first time.

"She never mentioned it, I'm afraid." Agatha commented, and Wanda felt like she might throw up at any moment. "Hey, breathe honey. It's okay, all right? You're safe with us."

But Wanda put a hand over her chest, feeling it tighten. "My god, what I just did... They will tell my husband... my father will hear about it-"

"Hey, Wanda, here. Focus on me, darling, breathe." Agatha grabbed her hands, trying to help her control the panic and tears that began to roll down her face. "Honey, it was just a poem. Nothing is going to happen, okay, you just brought what I asked for, and none of them minded. Nothing has changed, now breathe. You're safe, Wanda."

“Of course, I would ruin the book club.” was the first thought she had hours later when she woke up before the time to pick the boys up from soccer. She didn't have to do it though - Agatha left a little note saying that she had taken care of everything and wished her rest. 

Monica drove her home so that Agatha could close the meeting without raising any more suspicions about Maximoff's state, who had had a panic attack because of a poem read aloud. If the other neighbors knew, it would create chatter, and Wanda simply couldn't handle that.

Monica left her safe and sound in her house, wrapped in blankets, and didn't mind staying until Wanda cried herself to sleep. And Wanda woke up alone, feeling worse than before as if a very embarrassing secret had been revealed to the world and was mocking her outside the bedroom walls.

But her children were back in no time, and as they rushed to the shower, she went to thank a very concerned Agatha Harkness.

"Are you feeling better, sweetheart?" Asked her friend gently holding her arm. Wanda didn't meet her eyes, nodding.

"Thank you for dropping the boys off." Murmured her quietly, swallowing before adding. "And for earlier. I didn't mean to bring any trouble."

Agatha gripped her with more determination. "Listen here, Wanda, it was no trouble at all, okay?" Assured the woman, who although in a serious tone, still had very gentle eyes. "You are my best friend, Wanda Maximoff. Nothing will ever change the care and love I feel for you. When you're ready to talk about today, about this part of you, I'll be here. And Monica too. You are not alone, honey. You never have been." There was a different complicity in the last sentence, but Wanda only sighed in relief, nodding and finally relaxing when Agatha hugged her.

She thanked her again between silent tears and Agatha only left when she was sure Wanda believed her words.

-&-

It took Wanda three weeks to return to the store. Not that you were counting, or thinking every day about the middle-aged woman who had a gay panic attack with your poor attempt at service. Not that Natasha didn't shut up about it.

And as luck would have it, you were alone in the store because your boss, who you also called a friend, was out picking up some orders and her sister at the University of New York, and well, it had been a slow day until the doorbell rang in the early afternoon and it was Wanda.

"You again." That was the first you managed to say, almost sighing and hating how affected it sounded. Luckily, Wanda seemed equally happy and relieved to see you again.

"Hello." She greeted, repeating last week's gesture of adjusting a lock of her hair. She looked different from before, more elegant, with a dark jeans jacket expensive enough to have come out of a magazine, and a dress underneath that made you swallow dry. 

You had no idea how long she spent in front of the mirror trying to choose the right outfit with two neighbors weighing her choices.

Trying to play it cool and sound as casual as possible, you add:  "Wanda Maximoff from the book club, right? Did they like the poems?"

She hesitated in a nervous smile, looking around as if to check if there were no other customers and satisfied with the distant presence of a boy in the Vinyl's Discs area and a lady further down the hall, as she practically whispered, "You were right. It was scandalous enough for Westview." She teased, managing to get a short laugh out of you that made her stomach do flips and her cheeks turn a rosy hue. It was decided, she wanted to hear the sound again and would do anything to be the one to make you laugh.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that." You retort with a little smile. "I hope you enjoyed the book too, though." Your addiction makes Wanda's heart skip a beat. So you cared if she was the person who enjoyed the reading, it wasn't all about a professional suggestion on how to make an impact on the book club as she presumed. Well, Agatha was right. 

Risking, probably everything, Wanda commented: "Oh, I definitely loved the reading. I had a good time imagining the scenarios she described." Despite the confidence in saying it, she was blushing, and the way she spoke as if a secret between the two of you and with your knowledge of how erotic Emily Dickinson's stories were, was the reason you knock over half the stack of books you were trying to organize onto the floor.

The noise attracted the attention of the other customers, but you forced a smile and gestured that everything was fine before you ducked down, quickly beginning to pick everything up while Wanda looked at you with a certain amusement, as if she had just confirmed a theory.

"Sorry. You caught me off guard." You mutter in embarrassment, and Wanda chuckles, ducking down as well. She helps you with the last of the fallen books, and in the gesture of returning them, your hands rub together and the whole world stops for a second.  Just long enough for you to look at her, and then to step away at once, clearing your throat. Wanda does the same, and before you have a chance to say anything, the record customer interrupts you.

It has to be the most annoying sale you've ever made. He stalls you for long minutes, and all you can do is watch out of the corner of your eye as Wanda slips further into the back of the bookstore, and you lose sight of her. To make matters worse, when the man finally leaves, familiar vehicle parks in the back of the store, and less than five minutes later, two figures with heavy boxes appear.

Yelena has gotten a haircut, and you have a moment of shock to deal with that. The next, she is making a terrible impression on the other customer in the store, the cookbook lady, who immediately grimaces as soon as your friend practically jumps on you. Whether it's the display of affection or Yelena's tattoos and rebellious posture, the woman leaves the store muttering lowly. 

You pay no attention to this, grinning as you match Yelena's hug before she lets go of you.

"сука, next time you lock up the semester, at least stop at the dorm to smoke with us!" Complained your friend as she leaned on the counter where she had left her magazine supply box. Natasha dropped hers with a tired grunt, and once the books were secured, she gave a warning slap on the feet that Yelena threatened to put on a shelf. 

"There won't be a next time." Natasha answers for you. "She's giving up for good."

Yelena lets out an exclamation, but you grimace. "That hasn't been decided, Romanoff." You defend yourself. "I just needed more time. I think I'll just switch vocations. Again."

Natasha giggled, but Yelena patted you on the shoulder. "Hey, don't look so down. I also think about quitting Fashion every week, and every week I remind myself that no one is as talented as Yelena Belova and the world must not be deprived of my masterpieces." The comment makes you and Natasha laugh and roll your eyes. 

The redhead pushes her sister by the shoulders away from the counter. "You said you came here to work, not get in Parker's way. Find something to do-"

"Oh, sure, I'll get us some coffee." Yelena interrupts, letting go of her sister's hands. She points a finger at you. "Cappucino or-"

"Sorry." Wanda's interruption makes the three of you look at her at once. She is intimidated, but only for a split second. Forcing a smile, she raises the book she holds at face height. "I was hoping to take this one."

You take an awkward step forward, and it is enough for Yelena to acquire an expression as if she just has won the lottery. Busy taking care of Wanda's purchase, you don't even notice the sisters' exchange of glances.

As you wrap up the book, you try to disguise the trembling in your hands. 

"I couldn't really thank you for the recommendation." Wanda speaks suddenly. You smile awkwardly, holding out the bag with the book on the counter.

"It was no trouble at all, Wanda." But she extends her hand over yours, and your heart stops.

"I really appreciated it, sweetheart." That's what Wanda says, stroking your skin with her thumb. "We have meetings every week, and maybe, you could join us in the next…"

You opened your mouth like a fish, babbling like a fool and completely in shock at the invitation of the most beautiful woman you have ever seen in your life. “I-I…”

"Would love to, of course." Yelena elbowed you so hard that you pulled your hand away from Wanda’s to massage the spot. She offered her worst-intention smile to Wanda, the kind she only used at college parties when she wanted guys who would never have a chance with her to buy her drinks. "She's a first-rate nerd, she'll love it, ma'am. I’m Yelena, by the way. My sister, Natasha, is the owner here. And since we’re talking about hanging out, did you know that we do friends' reunions around here? You're more than welcome to join us."

Wanda adjusts awkwardly, a little surprised. "Oh, what kind of reunion?"

Yelena sighs thoughtfully, shrugging. "Well, I don't want to call it a college party, because even though we're all college students, it's not done on NYU grounds and is reserved for fewer people and the drinking is much better..."

Chuckling short, and adjusting the bag on her wrist, Wanda denies it with her head. "It's a kind invitation, but I think I'm too old for such things."

"What nonsense!" Yelena retorts gesturing indignantly. “ "With all due respect, such a beautiful woman will completely enhance the party. And well, my sister always attends with her friends, and you must be the same age..." You bite the inside of your cheek hard, you love your friend but she is charming and beautiful and is clearly flirting with Wanda to annoy you. Wanda blushes, and Yelena knows she's won this one. Emerald eyes search yours, and you find that the one who might have won is actually you.

"Will you be there?" She asks, and having trouble hiding a smile, you nod. With a sigh, Wanda looks at the expectant blonde beside you. "I think I could show up for a little bit-"

"That's fantastic!" Yelena gets excited, not even waiting for Wanda to confirm before she ducks down on the counter and finds one of the invitations to these parties that Natasha hides near the cashier. 

You barely had a chance to say goodbye to Wanda, with Yelena and her party directions, but at least you had confirmation that the woman would be there for the last weekend of the month, the typical date when those meetings were organized. And the realization had you sliding to the floor behind the counter with one hand on your chest.

"My god I think I'm having an anxiety attack-"

"No, that's a gay outburst triggered by a hot milf." Yelena cut in with a roll of her eyes, crossing her arms as she approached you again. "You gonna have to put it together, 'cause we need to pick out what you're going to wear next week, on your hot date with her.”

You're as red as a tomato. "It's not a date! It's a book club!"

Natasha - who hadn't said anything about the interaction until now - burst out laughing, and teased "Hm, that's what young people are calling it these days."

"You two are terrible." You complained embarrassed, shaking your head in disbelief at the giggling sisters. "We don't even know if she's interested."

Natasha chuckled. "Of course she is. Sapphic poetry the first week, and now she comes back just to stroke your hand. Yes, Parker, everyone saw that. If that's not interest, I don't know what else to call it."

Sighing in defeat at the sisters' complicit gaze, you stood up again. "Let me get back to work." You grumbled, but still, Yelena followed you with thousands of ideas about what you could wear.

-&-

Book club sessions allow you to get to know Wanda better. And inevitably fall in love with her as you never had with anyone else, at least not at that intensity.

Unfortunately, a meeting full of middle-aged women with a certain willingness to gossip about any subject, especially the unusual friendship of the young college student from downtown with one of the most respectable ladies in the neighborhood put practically a watch on your back. All your moments with Wanda, stolen touches and long glances between snacks and reading verses for the next few weeks came burdened with the worry, especially for her, that the rest of the world could see all too well what was going on between you two. 

And there was also the great frustration that in fact, nothing was actually happening. Aside from the undeniable attraction and warm affection you developed for each other, you were just book club buddies. You couldn't even call Wanda a friend, in fact, you wouldn't want to. All you knew about her family was Agatha or Monica telling you, the other was limited to any other subject but this one. 

Pretending not to know or just accepting that Wanda had a life beyond the safety of your afternoons together hurt all the same.

Your only hope of progress for what was happening came at the end of the month, with the arrival of the reunion date between your friends. It was the most intimate event Wanda could attend and you had a feeling there would be no going back for whatever might happen that night.

The Thunderbolts was what the group of friends you and Yelena were part of called themselves since the beginning of college. And unlike Peter and Kate, or even the freshmen, America and Kamala, who were all set on what profession they would follow after graduation, you had already dropped three courses in total. Starting out in medical school as your parents would have liked, switching to applied biology with Peter until you tried computer science with America, you finally dropped out to work with books with Natasha. It was the closest thing to happiness, even if it meant lousy pay. 

But ignoring this, what was certain about you and the Thunderbolts was that you guys knew how to throw a decent party. 

The loud music didn't escape much from the top floor of the store because two years ago Natasha had gotten glassware with sound isolation for the rehearsals of the Red Skulls - her ex-girlfriend Carol Danvers' rock band - that kept neighbors from calling the police.

The drinking was taken care of by Natasha's friends, and well, it was always good stuff. There was also plenty of food and lots of weed, grown naturally in T'Challa's private greenhouses.

It was a college party, there was no denying it, but still, you went up to the roof, waiting for a woman twice your age who had a wedding ring mark on her finger.

Wanda almost didn't show up, and when she did, she was accompanied by a very beautiful woman. 

Natasha also had a thing for older women and was half drunk, a dangerous combination. Since Wanda was your flirt, the Romanoff wasted no time in approaching the other one, who introduced herself as Agatha Harkness and was more than happy to accompany the redhead on her tour of the studio apartment that made up the second and third floors of the bookstore.

You were trying to remain calm and mannerly around Wanda, but it was almost impossible not to become a mess when she was absurdly gorgeous in her half-open social shirt, smelling fucking good from yards away. 

As the night wore on and you both struggled to stay included in conversations with other people you knew - from Steve and his military school stories to Kate and her hilarious jokes - you began to wonder whether you were getting drunk on beer or on Wanda's perfume in your senses.

Fleeing back to the roof in the hopes of getting some air, you were about to consider leaving the party when Wanda found you again.

"I lost you for a second down there." She commented as she approached, hugging her body to the cold night around you. Your natural instinct would be to take off your jacket, but it suddenly seemed too intimate.

"Now you've found me." You returned with a small smile, glancing at her when she got close enough, only to find that she was already looking at you.

Swallowing dryly, you grew shy about her intense gaze and shifted to the hands she was smoothing on the ledge beside you. Wanda just stood there, close enough to touch until she leaned in a little to whisper.

"Did I do something to upset you? You're hiding from me."

Closing your eyes for a moment, you sighed before risking a look at her. "Agatha told me about your marriage." You state sincerely, and Wanda swallows dryly. "I'm not stupid, and I'm no good with games either. There's a husband, so I just won’t get involved. I'll only get hurt-"

"I'm very attracted to you." Wanda cut in, also decreasing the distance between your faces. Your heart simply stops and your breath catches. If she kissed you now, you'd probably say thank you. With a sigh, Wanda brings a hand to the collar of your shirt, pushing you away gently as a warning to herself. "She didn't lie. Agatha. I have a family, children, and a husband."

It was like a bucket of cold water on your head. But Wanda didn't let you move, keeping her grip on your shirt, and this was probably the only thing holding your tears too.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you since we met." She continues to confess as affected as you are, her green eyes desperate and hopeful. "I haven't felt this way in such a long time..."

But you choked, pulling away. "I don't want to be some game, Wanda. Some secret. And I hate to share-"

"Oh, darling we're so alike." She interrupted a short, possessive chuckle, grabbing your wrist and putting your arm around her before you could move further. The attraction was almost liquid over your limbs, pulling you towards her and you gasped, pressing your face into her collarbone before you lost control for good and take her for yourself in this roof, damn the consequences. "I thought your friend Yelena was more. My skin itched at the thought of her touching you, I almost came back here and burned the entire bookstore." She confessed in your ear as she slipped her arm around your shoulders to hug you. The intense embrace increased your heart rate, and it didn't help that Wanda was playing with the lobe of your ear between her teeth.

"Stop saying things like that or I just might..."

"What? Tell me what you’ll do with me." Wanda challenges equally affected and you lose it, digging your teeth into her collarbone and sucking hard. She whimpers, knees buckling as her hips thrust up towards yours, but all you do is force her back against the edge, your firm hands on her waist keeping her from gridding herself on you as she wants to.

"I could fuck you right here, Wanda. Send you home smelling of dirty sex." You assure her darkly, your hands playing dangerously on the limits of her blouse. All Wanda does is groan rusky in your ear, wishing you would do as you say. “I bet you’ve waiting for me to.”

The smug phrase almost takes her sanity completely: Wanda grunts needily, trying to grab your wrist and force your hand between her legs, but you pull away hard, leaving her a slack mess trying to balance on wobbly legs with the help of the wall.

"I won’t be your mistress, Wanda Maximoff." You warn hoarsely, yet determined. You adjust your messy hair. "Sorry, but this little game of ours ends tonight."

Wanda hesitates, biting her lip. You hold up your hands, to point at the ring finger, reminding her of her condition and in a way, mocking her as well. Wanda hates the way she feels herself throb between her legs because of your smirk. 

She thinks she would have gone after you if Agatha hadn't appeared on the roof, reminding her with a certain irony that it was time for “respectable ladies” to go home.

In the car, her friend noticed her quiet, sulky posture.

"Did that girl say anything to spoil your evening, dear?" Harkness asked in a mixture of curiosity and concern, and all Wanda could do was let out a wry laugh, one hand adjusting her hair.

"No, Aggie." Wanda retorted sincerely. "I'm more sure than before about what I told you last week."

Agatha hummed in understanding, remaining silent for a long moment of thought. As she passed a sign toward the residential neighborhood of Westview, she spoke:

"I know a lawyer. Miss Walters. Divorce specialist." She began, ignoring the tense posture the other had acquired. “Former family friend, who always said that if I called, she would give me a special discount. Ralph owns the house, so splitting from him would have meant goodbye to Westview, and well, he never bothered me enough to lose you."

Wanda's eyes widen as she understands what her friend is saying, and she stares at her with tears in her eyes. But Agatha smiles through the mirror reflection, shrugging.

"Nicholas may be a difficult boy, but he also deserved to have a mother around." She continues. "And we have fun, you and me and the girls, don't we darling?"

Wanda agrees tearfully, nodding. Agatha chuckles, making the last turn and the landscape becomes several little houses alike.

"Just make a decision while you have time, dear." She continues a bit more hurriedly, stealing glances at the houses that still have lights on. "That beautiful woman today, Natasha, reminded me of a youth I sacrificed. I am old, Wanda. Affairs are fun, but I no longer have time to start a life with someone I really care about. You do, and you don't even have to. You have a chance to be with someone you really feel passionate about, if only for a week."

Agatha parked the car, and the porch light came on. Vision was waiting for her at the door, a half-stern expression due to the exit he didn't agree with - An unusual pastime for a family lady, they had discussed before she left.

With a sigh, she said goodbye to Agatha and got out of the car. Jennifer Walters' phone card was in her pants pocket.

It could take four to five weeks of staring at the bookstore doorbell to finally see the face you wanted to see enter that bookstore. You would be surprised enough that Wanda looked even more beautiful since the last time you saw her, and that this almost made you lose your balance on the ladder you had climbed to organize books on the top shelf.

This time Wanda would ask for a book in the law section, just for the entertainment of studying your reaction when, after demanding that you wait for her to find what she was looking for, she would press a book on divorce against your chest. Wanda would have just over five seconds for you to understand what she was getting at, before she was pressed into the shelf and grabbed by the thighs to be lifted into the air, your mouth glued to hers and her legs locked around you.

The messiest, hottest make-out session she never had as a teenager, but it would make her feel like one again. Hands determined and curious as your tongue ripped out sounds inappropriate for a bookstore, until the bell rang again, and you had to part in gasping breaths.

Wanda would grab your shirt collar before you could go to meet the customer in the lobby to ask you out on a date. On the first date, you could talk about her children, about how the joint custody was going to work out, and how much time you would have to get to know each other. On the second you could go out to eat, and on the third Wanda would feel your fingers on the back seat of the car on the drive home.

Wanda imagined all this on the way, twisting the lawyer's paper between her fingers. 

"Welcome home, Wanda." Vision greeted her, giving her room to enter. Wanda forces a smile, as she removes her hand from her pocket to pass her arm around her spouse for what would probably be the last hug she would give him as his wife. “Did you have fun?”

“I did.”

-&-

It's your night shift.

Natasha has a habit of closing early on weekdays, with the exception of Fridays where she allows reading shifts for all the sleepless geeks, as she calls all the late readers who come to the bookstore after six in the evening.

The day has been quiet so far, and well, you've been too depressed for the past weeks since you decided to move on and get over Wanda Maximoff.

So of course when the bell rings and you lift your eyes from a superhero comic, it's her at the door.

A weary sigh escapes you at the almost apologetic expression of the woman fidgeting with her scarf, and without giving her some other reaction, you lower your eyes again.

"Good evening, Y/N." She greets politely, her voice hoarse.

Turning the page, as if actually reading the words crammed in front of you, you retort, " We're closing soon, so make it quick."

A smile plays on her lips at your response. "Well, I guess that'll be up to you." She retorts, and you frown in confusion, looking up only to watch Wanda turn the sign from open to closed, and lock the door.

You feel your face warm from the lust glint her eyes acquire, but you manage to raise an eyebrow.

"Don't tell me you came all this way to murder me."

She chuckles playfully, approaching at a slow pace while her hands work to remove her coat and leave it on top of one of the endless stacks of books in the reception area. "Is the place empty?"

You bite your lip as she puts on a show to remove her gloves, almost losing the train of thought. "Not really." You mumble, catching the other woman's brief disappointment and hesitation. Closing the comics in your lap to store them under the counter, you clear your throat. "There's an employee area behind this door." You let her know in a husky tone, and Wanda glances behind your shoulder for a moment before stepping around the counter. 

You hold your breath at having her so close now, but she doesn't break the short distance between your faces, leaning in to touch the doorknob. You take a deep breath, and her free hand seeks yours in your lap.

She entwines your fingers together and it takes you a full moment to notice the ring missing in hers. Wanda smiles when she realizes you understand.

"I signed the papers this morning." She whispers it as a secret between you, stroking the back of your hand with her thumb and enjoying the way your skin feels warm. "I was going to write, to let you know, but I decided I wanted you to have me entirely."

You swallow dry, shuddering at the confession. "Oh, that's... nice to know." It's all you manage for the moment, surprised you can still hear her speak when your heart is so loud in your own ear drums. Wanda bites back a mischievous smile and opens the door.

"Come, you can show me how much you appreciate my fairness."

You feel your face burn and grunt in embarrassment. "You're so full of yourself." You mumble, not resisting the tug she gives to get you inside. 

Barely inside when the door closes behind you, your back hits the wood and desperate hands tug your uniform jacket open. Wanda's gasping breaths mingle with yours as she kisses you roughly. 

Her hands work at your belt, but you slow the frantic pace to something so intense and intimate that Wanda melts against you, a moment later green eyes staring up at you tearfully.

"I didn't lie." You begin to explain hoarsely. "There are three customers in the café. They'll notice if we... There's no rush, Wanda." You smile at her tenderly, your hands on her cheeks. "Have dinner with me tonight. You can walk me home."

Her eyes sparkle with happiness, and Wanda nods in agreement, kissing you as a promise. One she will never be ashamed to fulfill, doesn't matter if not even the law allows it.

[remembering-angels]

His ultraviolence (18+)

Arranged merriage with Tommy shelby

Synopsis - the niece of alfie solomons marries alfie's cold-hearted gangster friend, tommy shelby.

(Based on a prompt I saw on character.ai, but the writing is my own entirely!!!)

I am writing in first person because writing in second person confuses me as a non native English speaker.

(Content- car sex (in public), misogynistic 1920s stuff, tommy is being mean ,you are reading a story about a gangster,dubcon, fluff ending )

First ever smut ,nobody bully me.

My uncle alfie solomons the leader of the Jewish gangs I London was a harsh and strict boss offering deal or death sort of buisness partnerships, to me though he was a good uncle, spoiled me and doted on me as much as he could, maybe that's why I never grew out of fairytales about princes and princesses. "Come come here my beautiful dove, come sit with uncle alfie, let's chat shall we" uncle alfie calls me to his office, I nervously bite my lip, alfie never wanted me to be a part of the buisness ,I wonder why he summons me now. "Uncle?" I come in to his office confused when suddenly I notice beyond the cloud of cigarette smoke sits a man,in a dark three piece suit, I had to admit my breath almost stopped ,he was handsome, too handsome to sit in a dusty "bakery " office, his blue cold eyes stared in to my soul it seems. "Lovely Lovely yes sit next to uncle" mumbles alfie summoning me to him,I sit nervously next to him, I seemed even more small next to alfies big frame and even more ridiculous sitting between two gang bosses in a pink and white dress.

"Darling this is tommy shelby ,he is a good friend of mine yes very good friend and he recently lost a wife" he takes off his glasses and turns to me "he needs a new wife" ,I look at him confused where this is going, alfie always had a way to talk and talk around his points, perhaps it's his defence mechanism. "Alfie get to the point " the man with the blue eyes finally speaks up, his voice gruff and commanding ,how dare he command alfie like that ,but alfie doesn't seem phased at all. "Oh yes yes right ,my point is,I offered mr shelby here your hand in marriage, now I know its a big change but he is a strong ally and this union will be beneficial for us both and for the buisness " alfie says ,looking at tommy again as if looking for reassurance, tommy doesn't answer ,he barely even blinks.

"W..what" I say confused, I knew women didn't have much say in the gangster world but alfie just offering me up to his friends was a hit to the gut. "Uncle!" I say again shocked, looking between tommy and alfie, "now don't make a scene love, thomas is good buisness man and a very dear friend, I am sure you'll be fine" ,my jaw almost drops at this, if tommy is such a great guy why doesn't alfie marry him instead huh. Alfie shifts uncomfortably in his chair, even his bubbly and loud personality couldn't save everyone in the room from the tension that was slowly getting more and more tense. "Uncle ..this is so sudden I dont-" alfie touched his beard in annoyance "Now darling this union is VERY important for me ,if you refuse I'll be very upset " alfie always sugarcoated everything with me ,lucky for me tommy didn't "if you refuse ,I'll break this partnership and start a war in London " he says in his trademark detached and cold voice. My heart sank, it was straight up blackmail .

It was not a happy occasion as alfies men put my entire life in boxed to be shipped off to bermingam, it was not a happy occasion despite alfie happily kissing me on the cheek and sending me off in to Tommy's car "you two have fun alright, I'll see you in the wedding, be a good girl love" alfie kisses me again, tommy rolls his eyes as he starts the car "bye alfie" he says almost happy to be going home finally. I was shocked at how much trust alfie and tommy put in each other, does alfie seriously trusts tommy that much to give out the closest he has to a daugher just like that?

The ride to bermingam was silent,silent enough for me to memorise by heart the way the engine moves ,the sound it makes, "so..is your name tommy or thomas" I finally try to break the ice ,"thomas but we are getting marries so tommy is fine" his answer was cold and short, he barely looked at me. "I see...um do you have a big family..tommy" I ask nervously. "Yes, I have 3 brothers, Arthur, finn, john and a sister eda..there is aunt polly too ,you'll meet her soon" his voice grown a bit softer talking about his family ,it was endearing. "A..are you all gypsies then?" I ask trying to find any way to continue the conversation that seems to be holding on only thanks to my talking. "Yes, we all live in caravans and practice witchcraft" he smirks, the sarcasm in his voice wasn't lost on me. I laugh,the kind of polite laugh you give a stranger when you don't know what to say "I see" ,I look in to the green fields before me as the car keeps rolling.

After some more minutes of tortured silence ,finally he decides to speak "are you a virgin?" He asks bluntly ,no shame in his voice, I blush ,looking at him wide eyed "is that the first thing you ask me?" A hint of shock in my voice, "you are my future wife " he says again with no shame. "You don't even want to know my interests? Hobbies? Favourite book?" My voice a tone of scolding to which tommy raises an eyebrow, looking at me finally for the first time during our ride "this is a buisness arrangement sweetheart, not a date, and I sure do have the right to know if my wife is a virgin or not" he answers sternly ,causing goodbumps to run down my spine. "Well you don't.. you don't have the right" I cross my arms in protest at his rudeness which causes tommy to let out a chuckle "I think I have my answer then" he says in a matter of fact "my lovely new virgin bride, lucky me eh" he teases ,the way he could get from cold and emotionless to humorous and playful was a bit jarring to say the least. "I..I'm not a virgin " why did I say that ,of course he was right but my head was spinning and alfie threw me to the wolves so I had to not seem as innocent as I probably looked.

"Not a virgin eh" tommy says skeptically, looking me up and down he suddenly drives off the road ,parking his car at a nearby tree grove, "let's fuck then " ,my eyes widen and my hands begin to feel cold "shouldn't we...wait to our wedding night " my throat feels dry,why did I lie about it, stupid me. Tommy narrowed his eyes "one of those girls eh, good girls who wait for their wedding night" his blue eyes were staring right through and inside me, nothing was hidden from him.. "Yes.. " I squirm under his gaze, "you are lying to me. I do not appreciate it" he shook his head ,his voice returned to the trademark detached tone "you are a shelby now, and there are rules,you don't lie to me" he raised his finger and then sighed again "I.. " the words get stuck in my throat, "get out of the car" he orders, a clear command, something told me not to break,I open the passenger car door with trembling hands and climb out ,shortly after he gets out of the car too and opens the back seat car door, "bend over the seat" he takes out a cigarette and rubs it between his lips.

"What? Why?" I take a small step back ,"you are gonna lie to me about being a virgin then you are gonna get fucked like an experienced woman, bend." He says nonchalantly, making my shiver again. "Couldn't this wait for a bed?" I look at the back seat covered in black leather . Tommy takes another smoke of his cigarette, a moment of silence and then him grabbing me by my jaw pinning me to his car "I told you,you are my property now, everything belongs to me and I'll take it anywhere I damn please, don't make me repeat myself " he warns ,I let out a shaky breath and a gasp as he lets go of my jaw, I can't cry ,not now. "You can't treat me like this, my uncle won't stand for it" I said trying to regain a bit of control, "you think I am afraid of alfie?" He asked in a mocking tone "I'm your husband"

With that he spins me around and bends me to the seat, the humiliation rose to my cheeks as he started touching my behind, slow circular motion and then, SLAP, I gasp, the sound of his palm smacking my ass was echoing, I gasp and whimper ,trying to hold on to the car seat, "this was for lying" he says, and this ,he pulls down my baby blue chemise , the cool air hits my bare parts ,making me gasp ,he brings a hand to my folds "hm i might believe you aren't a virgin after all, getting so wet already eh ,like a true whore" I blush "tommy please not here please" I beg him ,which causes his to press his fingers in to my sensitive bundle of nerves "alfie is such a fool, giving something so innocent to me" he says in dark amusment, playing with my sensitive knots and entering a finger inside me, "hmm tight like a virgin, why would you lie about something so easily checked?" ,"I..I don't know it was a spar of the moment" I say through humiliating tears.

"Don't cry,you brought this on yourself " he says in a cold detached voice ,a sound of a zipper is heared ,I dig my nails in to the car seat and enters ,slowly at first, positioning himself "you know I wanted to be gentle for your first night, but I think you enjoy being bent over and fucked more" ,I blush harder as he says it,my head is spinning, "tom it hurts" I cry out as he starts breaking through the thin layer of maidnehood "isn't it romantic your husband taking your virginity, isn't that what girls like you want" he asked as he starts moving inside me,picking up the pace which each thrust . "Not like this" I sob, "like what hm? What did you imagine tell me" he picks up the pace even more as I try to form a coherent sentence, "let me guess a nice man and a nice slow fuck, sorry love you married a gangster" his pace quickens even more to my gasp and moans, I almost forgot we were at a tree orchad ,the feeling of him stretching me is the only thing i can focus on, "tommy" I moan more ,he leans his body over me ,brushing the hair from my face "you'll be such a good wife, I am going to fuck a baby in you ,you want that hm? " I whimper and moan until he finally releases inside me ,I let out a shaky moan and a gasp ,he pulls out and zips himself up.

With shaky legs I climb off the seat ,I look like a baby deer as I try to stand on my shaky legs, he stands by the tree looking at me, taking a cigarette out and puffs a cloud of smoke. I look at him slightly fearfully. "Well you are not a liar anymore " he takes another puff or his cigarette, I look like I am about to cry "do you smoke" he asks, "n..no" I say my voice still shaky. "Drink whiskey?" ,"sometimes" ,"ride horses?" "No" he looks to the side annoyed, "so all you do is day dream about fairytale?" ,"sometimes ".

"Come here" he says ,his voice more gentle now, "I am not the kind of man you dream about, not some actor with a nice smile or Prince charming, I am a bad man and I do bad things, so I'll give you a choice, run back to your uncle or stay" I look at him wide eyed, my legs still shaky from his use, the way he said "stay" tugged at my heartstrings, it almost sounded desperate, raw, almost sounded like he was begging, " if you stay, If you stay you'll be cursed" he looked away ,a hint of pain in his voice, he lookes behind me as if he is seeing ghosts. "I'll stay" I say silently, I don't know why.i don't know why,I said it. he made me cry. My heart broke when I looked in to his mesmerizing ice blue eyes, the sadness in them ,could make me forget everything and hold him for hours ,but it wasn't love, no not yet, not the love that a young girl dreams of, a fairy tale sort of love with Prince charming, instead there is a cold gangster with a red right hand ,a blood he will never wash off him and a sadness planting its roots in his core so deep his blue eyes can never hide it. "Fine..stay" he says again ,walking to his car with me,I sit back in to the passenger seat, tommy looks at me more softly now "well be home soon, you can rest, the wedding can be in a week, buy yourself a nice dress" ,I lay my head on the seat closing my eyes.

[eretzyisrael]

by POTKIN AZARMEHR

‘Pro-Palestine’ protests have become a near-weekly occurrence across Britain. Since Hamas’s 7 October massacre, regular marches have been drawing in a growing number of young people, marked by passionate advocacy and fervent slogans. Yet despite their zeal, many of these protesters lack a fundamental understanding of the conflict they are so vociferously decrying.

In the past six months, I have attended many of these marches. Having engaged with numerous protesters, I have noticed a startling disconnect between their strong opinions on the Gaza conflict and their shaky grasp of basic facts about it. Among the most perplexing are the LGBT and feminist groups (the ‘Queers for Palestine’ types) who flirt with justifying Hamas’s atrocities. This is a bewildering alliance, given that Hamas’s Islamist ideology is clearly antithetical to the rights and values these groups claim to champion. Its reactionary agenda is profoundly hostile to women’s rights and LGBT individuals.

Protesters seem eager to make excuses for Hamas, but are conspicuously uninformed about exactly what or who this terrorist group represents. On 18 May, during a protest at Piccadilly Circus in London, I spoke to demonstrators who firmly believed that Hamas represents all Palestinians. When I questioned a well-educated participant about the last Palestinian election, she was unaware that none had occurred since 2006, when Hamas gained power in Gaza.

It wasn’t just young people who were uninformed. An older woman with an American accent, seemingly a veteran protester, admitted she knew that Hamas was linked to the Muslim Brotherhood, but had no deeper knowledge of its ideology or history. Others, such as members of revolutionary socialist groups, displayed similar gaps in understanding, unaware of critical events like the 1979 Iranian Revolution.

That revolution gave birth to the Islamic Republic of Iran, a theocratic regime that brutally oppresses its own citizens. It also sponsors Islamist groups like Hamas. I left Iran for the UK not long after that regime began and have spent years resisting its religious extremism and ruthless political intolerance. Protesters were not only unaware of these facts about the Iranian regime, but also ill-informed about the struggle against it, such as the ‘Woman, Life, Freedom’ protests against the government that began in 2022.

One particularly telling conversation involved a man advocating for a ‘Global Intifada’ to replace capitalism with socialism. When asked about successful socialist models, he was unfamiliar with the Israeli kibbutzim, one of history’s few successful egalitarian experiments. His ignorance of these communal settlements in Israel, built by socialist Jewish immigrants, was all too typical.

Perhaps the most telling moment was captured by commentator Konstantin Kisin earlier this year, when he encountered a young man holding a ‘Socialist Intifada’ placard. The protester admitted he had no idea what this meant and that he had taken the sign simply because it was handed to him.

Reflecting on past movements, such as the American anti-Vietnam War protests of the 1960s and the British Anti-Apartheid Movement of the 1980s, one can’t help but note a stark contrast. Protesters then were generally well-informed about their causes. Today’s pro-Palestine protests, however, seem to be driven more by unthinking fervour than by an understanding of the issues at hand.

Throughout all these protests, I am yet to encounter a single participant who condemns Hamas or carries a placard denouncing its terrorism. This not only undermines the protesters’ cause, but also risks aligning them with groups whose values fundamentally oppose the very rights and freedoms they claim to support. It appears that today’s young protesters are high on ideology, but woefully thin on facts.

Potkin Azarmehr is an Iranian activist and journalist who left Iran for the UK after the revolution of 1979.

[historicity-was-already-taken]

Early Review of The Girl Bandits of the Warsaw Ghetto, to be released Fall 2025

"Elizabeth Hyman has an important story to tell. It is the story of the brave Jewish women who risked their lives attempting to defy the Nazis’ intention to leave no trace of Jewish existence. These women not only acted as couriers and spies for the resistance but also took their place besides Jewish men as active fighters, hurling grenades and firing rounds of ammunition. At the same time, they wrote about the suffering of their fellow Jews so that they would be remembered by future generations. They knew that they might be the last Jews able to tell their story, and as such were committed to documenting the ‘days of destruction and revolt.’ The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, however, although an extraordinary act, was inevitably limited in scope. Nevertheless, its significance is clear; as the ghetto fighter Mordecai Anielewicz wrote shortly before his death, ‘The dream of my life has risen to become a fact. Self-defence in the ghetto will have been a reality. Jewish armed resistance and revenge are facts. I have been a witness to the magnificent, heroic fighting of Jewish men in battle.’ Whilst the story of the heroic Jewish men who participated in the armed revolt is relatively well known, far less has been written about the young Jewish women involved: Zivia Lubetkin, Tosia Altman, Feigele Peltel, Tema Schneiderman and Dr. Adina “Inka” Blady-Schweiger. Hyman’s meticulously researched book finally brings these women out of the shadows. Drawing on the work of scholars such as Lenore Weitzman, Judith Baumel, Atina Grossman, Sonia Hedgepath, Paula Hyman, Marion Kaplan, Vera Laska, Sybil Milton, Dalia Ofer, Joan Ringelheim, Carole Rittner, Rochelle G. Saidel and Nechama Tec, Hyman carefully explains the gendered nature of Jewish life in inter-war Poland, and how it laid the foundations for the involvement of Jewish women and girls in resisting Nazism. She then draws on an extensive body of primary sources – diaries, memoirs, oral histories, testimonies from those who did and did not survive – to chart the establishment of the Warsaw ghetto and the mass deportations in its final days. The Girl Bandits of the Warsaw Ghetto is a brilliant and important addition to both the scholarly literature on the Holocaust in Poland and more specifically the role of Jewish women during the war. By writing a narrative history of this extraordinary group of women and their work in the Jewish resistance in and around Warsaw, Hyman will be able to reach an audience outside of academia. Through the words of the women themselves readers are able to glimpse something of this terrible time. Hyman uses testimony both wisely and sensitively – weaving it into the narrative so adeptly that it almost feels as if the women themselves are telling the story – and yet not overloading her readers with the often-agonizing words of the writers. It is also to her credit that Hyman resists a moralising or triumphalist narrative: she simply aims to tell the story ... it is a work which should be read widely. The analysis of the source material is extremely strong throughout: testament to Hyman’s skill as a historian and emotional literacy as a reader. I have given an extremely positive account of Hyman’s manuscript. After several decades of working in the field, I nevertheless learnt a great deal from reading it. And perhaps more importantly still, I found myself profoundly moved by the brave young women in the book. In recent years I have become concerned that I am becoming hardened by my research. That I no longer read with the attentiveness to suffering that I once did. Hyman’s ability to infuse the women she writes about with emotions and complex personalities drew me back. A gifted storyteller, she reminded me once again that the women we both study are not just figures from history but complex human beings making excruciating decisions and trying to make sense of what they were being forced to endure as best they could. This book deserves to be read widely. I frequently review manuscripts and this is one of the best I’ve read."

Zoë Waxman

Professor of Holocaust History

University of Oxford

17/09/2024