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msbigredmachine · 9 months

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Coming In London (Jey Uso/OC)

A date night for the ages across the pond. Post-Money in the Bank 2023. Jey Uso/OC one-shot.

Warnings: SMUT

Word count: 5.5k

A/N: New Edition's 'Can You Stand The Rain' was my muse for this fic. It kinda fit. I'm not weird I promise.

Enjoy!

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Money in the Bank was so much fun!

Zainab had attended a number of WWE shows with some great audiences in the past couple of years, but there was something about the atmosphere in the O2 Arena that could not be replicated elsewhere. They were on fire all night, especially for the main event, yet another one her boyfriend and his twin brother were headlining this year. Watching him feed off the fans’ energy and tear it up with his three brothers was mesmerizing. Emotions ran high afterwards and she ended up hanging out in the hotel lounge with the Bloodline and several other Superstars till the early hours of Sunday morning. It was hard to fall asleep with how happy everyone was about the great show they’d put on.

Jey was still passed out at breakfast time, buried beneath the white sheets of the plush bed of their hotel suite. Deciding not to disturb him, Zainab went alone, and ran into Jimmy and Roman at the buffet table. They were still buzzing from last night. As she kept them company, she noticed there was something else exciting them. They kept checking their phones, smiling from ear to ear and sharing secret looks. Her curiosity was piqued, but before she could press for more info, both men finished up their breakfast and quickly kissed her goodbye before leaving for their flights back home.

When she returned to her man, he was awake but still in bed, with his phone in his hands, the sheets pooled around his waist and his hair all disheveled and sexy. Damn, he looked so good. Like, “I woke up like this” kinda good.

“Morning, sexy. Hope you didn’t miss me too much,” she greeted, giggling when he yanked her down to the bed the moment she was within reach, almost knocking off her glasses. She accepted his soft, gentle kisses as his arms wrapped around her. He tasted like mint, like he’d just brushed his teeth. “I brought you a couple of muffins, a banana and some yogurt. How ya feelin’?”

“Like I been hit by a damn truck,” he murmured, sitting up to rest his back against the headboard while keeping his hold on her waist. “How was breakfast?”

“Good. Your twin and Roman were there. They were acting real sus. Kept smilin’ all wide and shit and checking their phones like you’re doing now. Who are y’all gossiping about?”

“Haha, no one, babe. We just goofin’ around.” Clearing his throat and putting his phone away, he smoothly changed the subject. “Date night at the London Eye is a go. Tonight gon’ be lit, baybeee.”

Zainab pursed her lips and adopted her most neutral expression. “Are you sure we’ll be able to go? You still look really tired.”

Jey couldn’t hold back his laugh at her faux concern. “Z, I’m good. We goin’. Don’t know why you so scared.”

“You know I don’t like heights, Mr. Day One Ish,” she rolled her eyes.

“Last time I was in London, I went on the ride. The view was unbelievable and I told myself I’d take you there if we ever got the chance. Don’t be a scaredy cat. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

Whenever his mind was set on something, he went through with it no matter what. Since he only wanted to show her a good time, she decided to indulge him. “Fine. Bianca invited me for afternoon tea. Imma do a little shopping afterwards, maybe get my nails done too. I’ll be back in time for tonight.”

Jey reached for his wallet and handed her his black American Express card. “Here. Go crazy with it. Just make sure you look sexy for me tonight.”

Zainab sighed dramatically and plucked the hard plastic from between his fingers, previous back-and-forths reminding her that he would not take no for an answer. “You spoil me too much, babe.”

She tried to sound stern, but that smile he loved was bright and happy, and he couldn’t stop himself from stealing another kiss. “For you, baby, ain’t no such thing as too much.” He meant it. She had him sprung, head over heels for her. He would give her the world if she asked for it. She worked so hard on the daily and she deserved to be spoiled and pampered all the time.

Zainab’s fingers trailed over his pec tattoo as a fiendish idea came to her. “Hmm. Would you like something in return then, Daddy? It’ll be unfair for you to do all the giving.”

“Well, if you insist…” he rasped, taking her hand and putting it between his legs, making her cup him through the sheets. His other hand curled dangerously around her neck, squeezing lightly, watching the flame of desire ignite in her gorgeous eyes, “...You can gimme that throat.”

His gruff demand, topped by his darkened irises and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, had her pussy purring. She drew the sheets off him and exposed his mouth-watering erection. Adjusting her frame on the bed, she closed her fist around his dick, leaning down to flick her tongue over the slit of his head, and her smirk widened when a sharp hiss escaped him.

“Whatever Daddy wants, Daddy gets,” she said to him with a wink, licking him one more time. As her mouth sank lower down his shaft, Jey felt his bones melt, and he laid back with a relaxed sigh and let her work her magic on him.

Today was going to be a great day.

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The weather was nice, mostly sunny with none of the infamous London rain showers in sight, thank God. After tea at the highly esteemed Fortnum & Mason, she headed out to the High Street with Bianca Belair to find a knockout outfit for tonight. The odds were in her favor as she quickly found a pair of heels that would rock her man’s world once he saw them. That inspired her to search for an equally stunning dress, and several stores later, she came across one that made even notoriously-hard-to-impress Bianca’s jaw drop. So that was settled. Next stop was Agent Provocateur. The store was stacked with so many beautiful designs of lingerie, it was tough to choose. With Bianca’s approval, Zainab finally settled on a blood-red, backless lace push-up bra and matching thong. She was highly impressed with the amount of cleavage the bra afforded her and how the color made her skin pop. She looked forward to watching it get torn apart by her boyfriend tonight.

Her predictions were headed in the right direction, as said boyfriend was already drooling before they left their suite for dinner. “Damn, girl. I ain't sure I wanna let you leave this room no more,” Jey drawled, resting his hands on her shapely hips. “You look good enough to eat, baby.”

Laughing as he tugged her backwards right up against his crotch, Zainab didn’t take her eyes off the mirror as she bumped him away with her backside. “Down, boy, before you make me drop my contact lens. This was your idea so we’re going. But who knows?” She locked darkened eyes with him through the round shaped mirror and twerked her ass for his benefit. “If I enjoy myself, I’ll be sure to let you…eat me…later tonight.”

Damn. “We’re gonna have an awesome time tonight, later and afterwards,” he declared loudly and confidently, finishing with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows that made her laugh. Her boyfriend could be so goofy sometimes.

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Dinner was quiet and intimate, and Zainab couldn't help but feel loved up and romantic as her man kept sweeping her off her feet. He was super attentive and she was enjoying the attention and their playful banter. She loved that he topped up her wine glass whenever it emptied, loved that he fed her the last piece of his steak. Being together like this was really nice; thanks to their busy careers, this kind of alone time was a luxury, one neither Jey nor Zainab took for granted.

The walk from the food market to the world famous ferris wheel was thankfully a short one. Zainab beamed as she entered the structure known as Cupid’s Pod and was greeted with rows of red roses and candles decorating the enclosure.

The ride came with a complimentary bottle of Rosé Champagne and a luxury box of Pink Champagne Truffles, set up on the wooden oval bench in the middle of the pod. Jey was right about the views from inside the London Eye. They were unbelievable, overlooking the boats gliding along the River Thames and several high rise buildings. The higher they went, the quieter it became, save for the personalized playlist playing softly in the background. Snuggled up with Jey on the bench, Zainab sipped some more champagne, indulged in some chocolate and basked in the ambience and the safety of her man's arms, which currently were around her waist, the heat of his body pressed against her from behind. His soft lips dispensed tender kisses along the curve of her neck, eliciting a small, welcoming moan from her at his gentle caresses.

“You so damn fine, girl,” he complimented, pressing more kisses to her skin, absorbing her intoxicating scent. “I’m glad you’re in London with me.”

“Thank you, my love. I’m glad I’m here with you too,” she smiled up at him, lazily rubbing his thigh.

“We met on this day two years ago. Do you remember?” he asked.

Zainab sighed dreamily, her eyes closed as she nuzzled her face against his. “Like it was yesterday.”

“Mm-hmm. I also remember your stubborn ass ain’t want nothin’ to do with me.”

“I told you why. I dated a soccer player and a basketball player. They both put me through some shit. Didn’t want to deal with another athlete.”

"Naw, baby girl. None of them dudes was right for you, that's all," Jey stated matter-of-factly, his toothy smirk showing off his silver jeweled grill.

“Ha, ‘course you’d say that.” Their romance was a slow burn, as both were still struggling with recent personal heartbreak when they first met. But their deep attraction to one another was something neither could stop themselves from exploring. When he was still working in the Thunderdome, he would make the trip to Fort Lauderdale to see her after the show every Friday night so they could bond and get to know each other better. They didn't even start sleeping together right away, because they were more interested in learning about each other first. When he resumed traveling, Zainab was sure that she would never hear from him again. But nothing changed. Not a day went by when he didn’t call her; a month did not pass without them meeting up at least once. She had been afraid of falling for him, but it was impossible not to. The man was beautiful, inside and out; not without his flaws and bad habits, but who wasn’t?

At first, she wasn’t sure how long they would last, given his crazy schedule and his history, along with her own bad breakups. But somehow she shelved all those fears and worked with him to strengthen their relationship. The fact that they were now one of the few couples in their circle still going strong to this day, meant they were doing something right.

She studied his features as he took her hands in his. There was a nervous energy about him tonight he'd been trying to conceal, but it only felt more palpable now. “You okay, baby?” she queried.

“Any regrets? Ya know, gettin' with me?” he asked, his voice quiet and shy.

She made a show of thinking about it. “About two or three, maybe,” she shrugged, and burst into laughter at his bombastic side-eye. “I’m just playin’,” she chortled, nudging him playfully. “We’ve had our ups and downs like any other couple, but it’s been incredible. I won't change a thing. You're an amazing boyfriend, Jey.”

“You’re amazing, Z. You’re a special person, and you been so good to me these past couple of years. I love you.” He smiled at her, and she couldn’t help but shiver at the intensity in his eyes.

“I love you too.” The feeling was still so surreal after all this time. Every time he said those words to her, she had to catch her breath. She knew about what he had endured in his past and how long it took for him to open up again. Knowing that he felt this way about her made her heart swell. She had never felt as happy and as loved as she did with him.

The moment stretched with them gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. Zainab raised his hand to her lips and placed a soft kiss across his knuckles. With that same hand, Jey caressed her cheek, down to her jaw, cupping her chin. His thumb softly rubbed across her bottom lip. Boldly, she sucked the tip into her mouth, her heated stare locked on him, and he could not resist replacing his thumb with his lips, feeding her with warm, languid kisses that made her lady bits clench and her toes curl.

Their little make out session was interrupted by the British A.I. woman’s voice announcing that they were at the very top of London. Jey reluctantly released Zainab and helped her to her feet. “The best of all the views is right here, babe. Take a look.” He pointed, gently rotating her and stepping back.

Summoning enough courage to go closer to the railings she’d been avoiding all evening, she cast a cautious glance out at the wondrous skyline before her. “You know what? I think I’m getting used to the height now,” she agreed, turning back around for his rebuttal.

Jey was down on one knee. A little velvet box was open in his hands with a sparkling diamond ring shining out of it.

Zainab burst out laughing and covered her face. “Oh my god you asshole! Are you fuckin’ serious?!”

Jey feigned hurt. “I know your ass ain’t cussin’ me out while I’m about to propose to you, woman,” he exclaimed, watching her walk away with her hands still on her face. He could hear her laughter gradually disintegrate, and when her shoulders began to shake with sobs, his eyes prickled. “Z…Baby, come here, I got somethin’ I wanna ask you,” he called out softly to her.

She was sure she was dreaming. It was a struggle processing this overwhelming surge of happiness, a happiness that only Jey Uso made her feel. She had to sit back down because her legs were shaking. She would definitely fall over and ruin this beautiful moment he'd clearly worked hard to set up. Luckily, Jey was kneeling before her, his hand resting on her thigh while holding up the ring to her. Her tears flowed freely, but he was there to wipe each one away, being there for her as he had been for the last two years.

“Fuck, I had a whole speech planned out and shit,” he whispered, his own voice clogged with emotion, “But now I got nothing, except that I’m so in love with you, baby. You changed my life, and I wanna be with you for the rest of it. Thank you for teaching me how to love again. Zainab Ortega, my queen, my love, will you marry me?”

Tears kept streaming down her cheeks, threatening to ruin her makeup as she stared at the man she loved more than anything in the whole world. She had only one answer. “Of course. Yes, yes I will,” she replied without hesitation, nodding enthusiastically as she watched him slide the stunning diamond ring on her finger. It fit perfectly.

Jey’s head was spinning. He never thought he’d be in this position so soon after Nisha. He thought he would never find love again. The morning Nisha breathed her last breath, he all but lost his will to wrestle, to function, to live. Never did he imagine that just eighteen months later, at a fundraiser to combat the disease that took his wife, he would meet someone else that made his heart flutter again, that caused his skin to sprout goosebumps with just a smile. At first, he felt so guilty and so ashamed of his feelings. But before her passing, Nisha had made him promise to move on, to open his heart again if he ever found the right woman.

So he did. Allowed himself to fall in love one more time. He couldn’t believe he’d found such a beautiful, caring, patient, sexy ass woman like Zainab. Her kind soul, her perennial optimism and her zest for life inspired him to push on with his own. Now, his career was thriving and he was in the best shape of his life. In so many ways, she saved his life. Putting a ring on her finger made all the sense in the world to him. With this, everything between them would become that much more final, much more complete.

Zainab stared down at her finger in complete awe. “It's so pretty! I can’t believe it. This must have been such a difficult step to take, baby,” she said, looking at him.

“At first, it was,” he confessed, wiping the corners of his eyes with the pad of his thumb. “But then I quickly realized how much in love I was with you, and I couldn’t live without you. I got that ring made two months ago, ma. This weekend wasn’t gonna go by without me poppin’ the question. Nisha will always be in my heart, but it’s you and me now, Z.”

She nodded in understanding and pulled him close, pressing her lips against his. “I would be honored to be your wife. I love you so much. Thank you.” She was literally on top of the world. She would never forget this trip to London, ever.

They spent the next ten minutes calling up family and friends to tell them the good news and show off her brand new engagement ring. There were a lot of happy tears and a lot of love. Apparently everyone had been waiting for this day to come. Roman and Jimmy had merely grinned proudly, and just as Zainab suspected, they both knew that this was going down tonight, which was why they’d been so cryptic and secretive at breakfast. Jey and Zainab were so happy to have the support of both their wonderful families.

She couldn’t stop fawning over the sizable diamond glowing on her ring finger. “Baby, this rock is so big.”

“Thought you liked big things,” Jey teased with a light squeeze of her waist, flashing her a knowing wink.

“You know first-hand that I do. Oh my god, Jey…we're getting married!”

“Mm-hmm. I’m so fuckin’ lucky, babe, you have no idea,” he gushed. He cupped the side of her face and bent down to kiss her, gently at first, then harder, leaning into her. Zainab ran her hands up the bulge of his biceps, moaning into his mouth when his tongue lashed against hers and his hand slid over her ass, giving it a firm squeeze.

“You know, proposing to you wasn’t the only thing I imagined doing in this here pod,” he said.

One look at the heat in his eyes made her understand right away. “No. You wouldn’t.”

“That a dare, baby?” He moved his mouth down to her neck, a small groan rumbling through him as he nipped and licked her skin. It served as the perfect distraction for his hands to slip under her dress and massage the round, ample globes of her backside.

“Babe, people can see us,” Zainab gasped, but melted into his arms anyway, “We’re gonna get in trouble. There’s cameras in here-”

“Fuck the cameras,” Jey dismissed. His penetrating stare shot tremors down her spine. "Do you know how fuckin’ hot you look tonight? Do you know the nasty shit I wanna do to you right now?”

She could already tell with the bulge pressing insistently against her. But she wanted to hear him say it. She couldn't quite think straight anyway. She wouldn't have been able to stop him if her life had depended on it. "Tell me, Daddy," she moaned.

"You drive me crazy when you dress up like this, baby, all sexy and provocative and shit…I seen dem thirsty ass motherfuckers at dinner, starin’ at you, wishing you were theirs...I wanted to bend your fine ass over our table and give you this dick in front of everybody. Let ‘em all know you mine."

“I will always be yours,” she whispered. "Always."

He walked her back to the bench, sitting down and pulling her to sit on him. As always, she fit perfectly on his lap, her ass resting between his muscular thighs. They hugged and kissed, his eager hands all over her body while she rocked back and forth against his hard erection. He took his time maneuvering her dress up to her waist, caressing her thighs the whole way and amplifying her already rabid need for him to be inside her. His fingers dipped beneath the lace edge of her panties, finding her wet and ready for him. He teased gently, lightly stroking her pussy lips, causing her to moan into his mouth. He knew just how to touch her, knew exactly how to make her body react to his every whim.

His hands slipped upwards to rest over her delectable bosom. “This a pretty ass bra, ma. You got it for me?”

“Yes, Daddy. You like it?” she asked. Jey answered her question by freeing her breasts from the confines like he was opening up a present. Her titties were nice and plump and made his mouth water. He eagerly took a nipple in his mouth and sucked while he massaged the other one.

“Baby…” she whimpered, hesitancy thick in her voice.

“Z…” he growled, his lips giving her nipple a quick, audibly wet tug that momentarily short-circuited her brain, “Unless you tellin’ me to fuck you harder, ion wanna hear it.”

His mouth covered hers before she could speak again, and this time she completely surrendered to him, allowing his tongue to slide in and wrestle with hers to a no-contest. She unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants to get access to him. As she pulled him out of his briefs and dragged her palm up and down the hard, smooth length of his cock, she gasped as he immediately tugged her new lace panties to the side and lowered her down onto him. The stretch was incredible, and they both moaned. She looked at her new fiancé, who sported a sexy smirk on his lips, watching her mouth fall open as she sat all the way down on his long, hard dick. They’d had sex many, many times together, but each time something new was awakened in her, even more so now as it occurred to her that anyone in the surrounding capsules could take a close look through the darkness and see what was happening. Her heart pounded in her chest in anticipation. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening, but she wasn’t going to stop it.

She moved on top of him, moaning as his dick twitched inside her, welcomed by her warm depths. He grabbed her breasts again, kneading them expertly, which made her bite her bottom lip harder than intended. When he pinched her nipples, her back arched and her head hung back. His long fingers then met her waist as he leaned in to suckle her throat and smell her, basking in the pleasure and feral desperation in her voice. Her thighs locked around his hips, giving her a little leverage to lift herself up and down on him with ease. She was dripping but still so tight around him thanks to how endowed he was.

“Damn, baby…keep ridin’ me like this and you gon’ be a mama in nine months,” Jey choked out, his eyes rolling back as she kept grinding herself on him, squeezing her walls snugly around his cock. “Imma give you all the babies, fuck, you feel so good…”

He already put a ring on it. Babies were the next step, surely. The thought of conceiving his child on the night of their wildest sexcapade yet, aroused her to no end. “Hmm, then breed me, Daddy,” Zainab groaned. Threading her fingers through his hair, she gave him a kiss so passionate that he moaned into her mouth, he then forced her to do the same when he smacked her ass, the sharp sting zipping down to her loins. The bench was not comfortable, but they were so into it, and the ambience was so romantic and sexy, that neither of them cared.

“Unnnhhh god, baby,” she whined with her lips parted over his own, tasting his heavy breaths, “Shit, you feel so good inside me.”

"I can see that, you creamin’ all over me,” Jey looked down at her gyrating hips with a smirk. Her creamy mess had visibly smeared his exposed gray-colored briefs. “You love this dick, don't you, baby?" he taunted, flicking his tongue over her lips.

“Yes Daddy.”

“I know you do. Fuck me, beautiful, bounce on this dick.” His moans had dissolved to primal growls now, mingling with the soft music and the wet, slapping sounds of their lovemaking. She pushed him down flat on his back, and the surprise on his handsome features evaporated when she began riding him harder, taking his dick deeper inside her with each drop down, with each salacious roll of her backside. Her moans mingled with his groans as he started to bounce her himself, his hands clutching the meat of her hips, moving her more vigorously up and down. His pouty lips were parted and gasping in stereo with hers as he made her fuck him, that big dick meeting the sweetest of her spots.

“Shit, Daddy, that dick in me!” she groaned. The atmosphere was so incredibly hot, she buried her face in his neck, moaning her pleasure as she felt herself start to tingle and throb. "Oh, fuck, Jey, I'm gonna come,” she breathed heavily, her voice vanishing into thin air as she bounced harder and faster on his dick, hunting down that potent high. She nearly lost her balance as it seized her, a glorious cascade of orgasm, her thighs quivering and skin humming as the explosion eviscerated her senses.

She felt him sit back upright and rise to his feet with her still in his arms, his mouth moving against hers with more purpose than usual. It wasn’t until she felt something cool and hard pressing against her bare back that she finally broke the kiss out of curiosity. Looking behind her, her heart stopped cold inside her chest.

Jey had pressed her directly against the clear glass wall of the capsule, with nothing below her but the twinkling lights of London. Zainab screamed and squirmed against his body, her head spinning with both fear and the remnants of her orgasm as she struggled to get away from the glass.

"Jesus! Fuck, Jey, what…"

"Hey, hey, shhh," he whispered, keeping a careful hold around her trembling frame. His lips swept tenderly over her jawline as he tried to keep her calm. She was shaking, her arms and legs gripping him with the strength of a boa constrictor. "Breathe for me, Zainab. Look at me. Look at me."

She twisted her face away from the view, her pretty eyes wide and frightened.

“I-I-I…”

“Calm down for me baby. Relax.” His mouth brushed along her throat, doing his part to quell her nerves. Her squirms subsided, but only a little. He could tell she still wanted to get away, but he kept her body firmly secured between himself and the glass. “Do you trust me?”

Right now, on the cusp of grave danger, she wasn’t so sure she did. “Yeah,” she finally ground out.

“Then you know I’ll never let anything happen to you. I gotchu.”

His kiss was gentle but insistent and full of reassurance. She felt his hand sneak along her hip, then the sharp tug of her panties pressing into her skin, and a tearing sound and the flimsy material falling away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him tuck the ruined undergarment into his back pocket. Keeping his body flush against hers, he molded her bare ass cheeks in his hands, grinding against her for a few seconds before sliding his dick back home. She clenched around his girth immediately, greedily, and Jey groaned softly as he worked himself into her with slow, winding circles that touched every single sweet spot her pussy possessed. He was a tight fit, always was. It felt so good that she couldn’t stop the moans that spilled from her lips.

“You like that, huh? Daddy’s gotchu,” he said, repeating the action again and again. He stared with wonder in his eyes at his love, the most wonderful woman in the world. “You so beautiful, baby. I love you so much.” Placing another gentle, calming kiss on her lips, he increased his pace. Zainab did what she could to block out the very real threat of the deathly drop behind her and focus on her fiancé now pounding into her. The sound of his body meeting hers was almost deafening in the exposed enclosure.

“Damn, Z, you soppin’ wet. I knew you’d like this shit. Love this pussy so much.” His expression was one of lust-filled triumph as he studied her face, the parting of her lips panting for him, goading him to angle his hips and fuck her harder and deeper, bottoming her out. “This turnin’ you on, huh, your ass and titties out, all of London watching you take my big dick…”

With another whimpering moan, her head rocked back against the glass as she felt her climax creep closer again. Her eyes fluttered shut as her nerves settled and more erogenous sensations took over. Her legs tensed around his waist as she rotated her hips in rhythm with his thrusts, each one pressing her ass deeper against the glass, making her wetter and wetter and bringing her closer to succumbing to that euphoric feeling that only her man, now her betrothed, could give her. Her breath was stolen from her as his dick continued to toy with her g-spot, his grunts and gasps warming her neck, her pussy walls quivering and rippling around his girth in reaction. “Fuck, Jey, right there…Mmm fuck, you ‘boutta make me come again!”

Holding his girl in place with his big strong hands, Jey intensified his strokes, his gruff voice grunting with the effort. "You fuckin’ right, baby, gimme that nut,” he mumbled, himself starting to unravel from the near-crippling pleasure. “Give it to me cuz it’s mine. Drain your pussy all over my dick."

Zainab hugged him even tighter, her nails digging through his shirt and into his back as her moans devolved to whimpers, and the faster he thrust into her, the further their bodies seemed to plunge from the same dizzying heights as the capsule they were in. She cried out as her release tore her apart, her walls suffocating his cock. Jey was right behind her, his guttural groan at the pulse of her throat, his dick lodged in the back of her pussy as he came just as hard for her. Desperately, she clenched around him, taking it all, milking him for everything he had as the world seemingly collapsed around them.

Seconds later, the A.I. woman’s voice popped up again to announce that the ride was descending in ten minutes. Jey leaned in for a breathless kiss as he pulled out of her and finally edged her away from the glass. She clung to him as he carried her back to the bench. He pulled wet wipes seemingly out of nowhere and cleaned her up, sharing more kisses with her while helping each other redress.

“You good?” he asked, smoothing her hair back into place and drawing her legs onto his lap.

Zainab nodded, biting her lip as the last of her climax rippled between her squeezed thighs. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“You loved it though,” he said, his deep voice seductively low as he stroked her thigh. “Don’t lie to Daddy now. I could tell you loved every second, you got so wet for me, babe...”

There was so much amusement and cockiness and love in his eyes. All for her. “You always make me wet, Daddy,” she admitted, glancing back at the sheet of glass she’d been trapped against just moments ago. She had to give him his props for his highly unique sense of adventure. “You think we’ll still be this lit after we’re married?” she questioned.

“Ay, as long as we work on it, together, like we been doin’, and we don’t let none of that outside noise creep in…we’ll be good. That’s what I want for us, Z.”

She liked that answer a lot. It was what she wanted, too. “I made you a promise earlier that if I enjoyed myself, you can eat me when we get back. My offer still stands,” she noted, batting her long lashes at him.

Jey smiled like the cat who got the cream. Literally. Picking out a truffle from the box, he popped it into his mouth and licked up the morsel that stained his finger.

“Mmm. I bet this goes great with pussy,” he commented with a sly smirk.

Fuck. Zainab’s throat went dry and her body instantly flooded with heat, despite having been thoroughly fucked just minutes ago. “You might be right,” she uttered back.

The capsule finally came to a safe stop on the ground, bringing the ride to an end. Jey and Zainab settled for a few more chocolatey smooches as the pod's doors opened. Expecting to be confronted about their antics by someone in authority, they were relieved when no one approached. The newly-engaged couple walked out hand in hand with big dreamy smiles on their faces, eager to retreat to their far more private hotel suite to continue their raunchy celebrations.

They took the box of chocolates with them…for research purposes, of course.

THE END

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I really enjoy writing soft Jey.

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#jey uso #jey uso smut #jey uso imagines #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x black oc #jey uso imagine #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x reader #main event jey uso #roman reigns

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whoseafraidofliloleme · 4 months

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i forgot to send u an ask but I'm on iland ep11 nd atp it has become so easy to guess who the producers are talking abt nd their rankings too I'm like well 😶😶I just guess nd it becomes ture esp for this specific episode the rankings became too easy to guess nd I'm like 😬😬anw I'll cb again to talk to u more last week of vacations 😞😞I'm gonna miss staying home nd sleeping 😞

how are u how are ur holidays??? did u eat smth nice nd tasty 😋 take care of yourself 💕

The way I see iland was that it was Heeseung going to find his future team members... I love all of them obvs but Heeseung is my baby.

Girl I feel you when it comes to just sleeping all the time and just being at home doing nothing really.

My holidays were great, I went to my aunt's house and it was good fun with extended family... Found out that we're very competitive and loud when it comes to games...

Hope your holidays have gone great too, been relaxing and calming with lots of good food as well!!.

#zainab answers #ask answered #answered ask #ask: hoondiors

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firstelevens · 6 months

Text

Author Question Tag Game

I was very kindly tagged by @thatmexisaurusrex! Thank you!

How many works do you have on AO3?

29 works! Ten of which were published this year.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

287,015 words!

When I did this last year, it was 106,109 accumulated over NINE YEARS of being on AO3, and now I've published 180,906 words in the past 14ish months. Bonkers.

What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly the MCU, but I've been known to dabble in Rogue One fic or the occasional literary webseries.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Last year, I answered this for my fics overall, and that hasn't changed, so here's the top five from this year:

sugar pie, honey bunch

my bed's too big for just me

(running home to your) sweet nothings

counted days, counted miles

by the moon and the stars in the sky

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to respond to all of them! I do tend to lose track of comments on older fics or prompt collections, because I sometimes get distracted by the other stuff I'm working on, but I always mean to go back and catch up.

I'm genuinely touched whenever people take a beat to tell me that they enjoyed a fic, or to mention a part that stood out to them, or even just to do the little "extra kudos!!!" thing. Plus, I'm lucky enough to have a handful of regular commenters now, and I'm always so eager to hear what they have to say and respond to their thoughts. Getting to chat with them is maybe one of my favorite parts of posting fic.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Honestly I simply do not write angsty endings, even if I've written angsty middles. I'll go as far as an open or ambiguous ending, but the catharsis of tragedy is not quite something I'm looking to do with my fic.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think nothing sweeter than my baby is a solid contender for happiest ending. The entire fic is extremely tender (in my opinion), and it ends with a proposal scene that I'm still extremely proud of.

Do you get hate on fics?

People have left a silly comment or two but nothing worth noticing.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope! I've tried, for the sake of writerly development, but it never really reads write when I try. (Also...choreography is HARD, y'all.)

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Yes! Pour one out for Kristen's Warehouse 13/Veronica Mars/Elementary crossover birthday fics.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! This summer, @sesamestreep and I co-wrote a prequel to the Bake Off AU called summer came like cinnamon, so sweet and it was so absurdly fun and you all have absolutely not seen the last of us working as a duo.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

All-time is a very long time indeed but Jyn/Cassian and Sam/Bucky have demonstrated some staying power thus far.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Ideally, the DJ White Wolf fic would become real and substantial one day, but I think it's doomed to be a loose collection of vibe-driven scenes forever.

What are your writing strengths?

If I've learned anything this year, it's that writing fake social media and online media content is a superpower that I have and it's SO fun to use. (I think this also connects to my default answer to this question, which is that I'm pretty good at making the worlds of my stories feel lived-in.)

What are your writing weaknesses?

Balancing plot and character is always a struggle for me, because if I could get away with it, my characters would just hang out and banter and do silly stuff forever, but like, sometimes the story has to move.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Bold and super effective when it's done well, but I've never managed it without feeling like it's distracting. I usually go with the free indirect discourse approach if I need to include languages other than English, which feels smoother within my own writing.

First fandom you wrote for?

Chuck! A fix-it fic for the series finale.

Favorite fic you’ve written?

The Bake Off AU! I chipped away at sugar pie, honey bunch for two entire years and I was so worried it would never work and then??? I managed to make it work??? Week after week???? For seventeen chapters!

It's always hard to know whether something is going to turn out like you saw it in your head, but the Bake Off AU turned out so much better than I could have imagined it would, and it has so much of me in it, and people were and continue to be so kind about it that I think it'll always be special to me.

tagging anyone who sees this and wants to do it! or like, if I've tagged you in something else and you'd rather do this, knock yourself out!

#if you made it to the end I love you and you're the best #zainab does ask meme things #this was a fun retrospective one year out from the last time I answered it! thank you for tagging me!

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sesamestreep · 1 year

Note

Taylor Swift prompts: Jyn/Cassian, 35

35. love me like I’m brand new (from this prompt list) Note: completely independent of Zainab's prompt fill from this week expanding her sambucky teachers AU, I was busy writing her a teachers AU for this prompt! Same hat, as usual! I meant to get it finished and published by our friendiversary (this past tuesday) but that didn't quite work out. Still, within a week ain't bad. Cross posted to AO3, if that's more your jam.

“Okay, I’m proposing a new drinking game,” Jyn’s voice crackles over the walkie-talkie. “Drink every time the DJ plays a song Cassian doesn’t know.”

Cassian whips his head around, looking for her but doesn’t see her anywhere in the crowded room. It is dark, though. And full of high schoolers who are mostly taller than her. She could be anywhere.

“Where are you?” he asks, into his own walkie-talkie. “I don’t even see you.”

“I am the night,” she replies, in her best Batman impression, which is not very good, honestly.

“We can’t play that drinking game,” Bodhi interjects. “We’ll be dead in under an hour.”

“Hey!”

“No drinking at prom,” Baze replies, bored.

“Wait, when did we make that rule?” Jyn asks.

“You better be joking.”

“I am, don’t worry. I take the safety and security of this event very seriously,” she says. “And I can’t think of anything worse than being drunk around high schoolers.”

“Drunk in front of your parents?” Bodhi suggests.

“That’s me every Christmas, baby!”

“Is this what we’re supposed to be using the walkie-talkies for?” Cassian asks.

“Wow, did you just tattle on me?”

“Chirrut, we’re gonna need a ruling,” Bodhi interjects.

“Ten-four,” Chirrut replies. “Definitely tattling.”

Jyn blows a raspberry directly into her walkie, and Cassian sighs. “I think he meant about the proper use of the radios, Chirrut.”

“Oh, then yes, this is exactly how I envisioned us using them,” he says.

“Best prom ever,” Bodhi says, dryly.

“Speaking of which, who’s in the lead in the flask count?”

“That would be my beloved, with a grand total of 12 so far,” Chirrut says, and Baze makes a point of groaning into the radio because he hates when Chirrut calls him pet names at work. “Followed by Cassian, with 8, and Jyn with 5. Bodhi and I are tied for last with 2 apiece.”

“Actually, Kay is in last place, with negative four thousand because he’s a little bitch who called out sick from chaperone duty at the last minute,” Jyn replies.

“Yes, let the record show Kay is in last place forever,” Chirrut says.

“Amen,” Cassian replies. “What are you doing with all these flasks, anyway?”

“Jyn, don’t you dare say Jungle Juice,” Bodhi says, immediately.

“JUNGLE J—hey!”

“Jungle Juice is never the solution to any problem!”

“You’re right about that,” she says. “Jungle juice is, at best, always just a neat way to go from having one problem to two problems.”

“To actually answer Cassian’s question, we generally just give them over to the central office,” Baze says. “With our report for the night. The administrative team decides what to do with that information afterwards.”

“We’re not really going to nerf these kids for getting rowdy at prom, are we?” Jyn asks. “We’re not even on school grounds.”

“I didn’t realize you were so tender-hearted, Erso.”

“Bite me, Andor! Just for that, I’m taking your second place spot in the Flask Olympics.”

“Flask-Off,” Chirrut replies.

“The Flasked Singer,” Bodhi suggests.

“Flask and you shall receive,” Jyn adds.

“Everyone shut the flask up and get off the walkies,” Baze interrupts. “You’re all giving me a migraine.”

Cassian tucks the radio back in his pocket and returns to his actual job of chaperoning. The students are all dancing to a song that he absolutely does not recognize, though it would require advanced forms of torture to get him to ever admit that to Jyn now. In the middle of the crowd, he spots Rey and Finn, still wearing their cheap plastic crowns from the prom court ceremony and doing some dance that involves windmilling their arms a lot. He shakes his head, and continues his sweep of the room, spotting Bodhi in a far corner and giving him a salute, which Bodhi returns.

“Flask-athalon,” Jyn says, at his elbow and he nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” he asks, not sure how she managed to sneak up on him.

“Bathroom,” she says. “Did you hear my flask joke? I thought of it on the way over, but I don’t want to get on Baze’s bad side.”

“So you chose to instead inflict it on me? What did I ever do?”

“Mean,” she says. “You’re so mean. And now you’re on my bad side. Was it worth it?”

“I’m not scared of your bad side,” he says, and it comes out all stupid and tender by accident. There was meant to be some bravado in there somewhere but he forgot, or he misplaced it, or something.

“They all say that,” Jyn replies, crossing her arms. Hers comes out tender too, probably also by accident. There’s a not-so-hidden but they don’t really mean it at the center of it. He means it, though.

“Everything alright?” he asks, and she frowns, confused. “On your patrol,” he clarifies.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Just had to comfort Rose Tico in the ladies’ room.”

“Poor Rose,” Cassian says. She had been in his office a handful of times last semester. Her sister is away at college this year, and she was having trouble adjusting. It seemed like she’d been doing better lately, though. “Nothing serious, I hope?”

“Well, Finn asked her to prom ages ago, as friends, but now he and Rey are kind of an item, but he still honored his promise to go with her and then he and Rey got voted prom king and queen and Rose had a meltdown that he only went with her as his date out of pity and that he’d rather be here with Rey and…it was a whole thing. Then, Jannah and Kaydel showed up to check on her and I gave them some space to work it all out.”

As if on cue, Rose re-enters the room at that moment, with Jannah grasping one hand and Kaydel holding the other. Cassian watches as they rejoin everyone on the dance floor and as Rey shrieks in delight at seeing them and throws her arms around Rose’s neck. Rose returns the hug, letting go of the other girls, and they sway like that, fully out of time with the music, for a good thirty seconds. Over their shoulders, Jannah and Finn are doing the robot while Kaydel pretends not to know any of them.

“Looks like they smoothed things over,” Cassian says, and Jyn nods, looking pleased.

“Every day. Every single day, I am so glad to not be a teenager anymore,” she says, while surveying the room.

“You’re preaching to the choir,” he replies. “I was such a pain in the ass back then.”

“You’re still a pain in the ass.”

Cassian laughs. “I was a different kind of pain in the ass, then. The worst kind.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she says, softly.

“Good,” he says, smiling. “That means I grew up into the sort of man my mother wanted me to be.”

Jyn doesn’t say anything to that, just watches the crowd of students with an inscrutable expression on her face. It was probably a weird thing to say, here, at prom, but it had just jumped out. She has that effect on him, strangely enough. He has this very stupid urge to be honest with her all the time, to just spit out whatever he’s thinking and feeling and pray that she finds it interesting or at least that it doesn’t scare her away. He’s still not sure what to do with that instinct.

Before he can decide, Bodhi’s voice crackles over the walkie-talkies, in stereo, since Jyn and Cassian are standing next to one another. “‘Look on my works, ye mighty and despair,’ suckers,” he says. “Chirrut, please bring my flask count up to four!”

“Four?” Jyn replies, unbelievably quick on the draw with her radio. “You got two off of one kid?!”

“I’m coming for your spot, baby!”

“Oh, it’s on now,” Jyn says, exclusively to Cassian. “I cannot let this kind of insult stand.”

Cassian pulls out his walkie-talkie. “Chirrut, does he get extra points for quoting Percy Shelley while confiscating flasks? Because I feel like maybe he should.”

“Traitor,” Jyn whispers, and then, into her radio, adds, “That’s not in the rules!”

“Agreed. This is purely a numbers game,” Baze replies.

“And Percy Shelley sucks!” Jyn says.

“Hey! Don’t make me come over there!”

“Bodhi doesn’t get extra points for style,” Chirrut interjects, over the radio, “but I am contemplating adding a ‘Best in Show’ category, with this in mind.”

“Wow,” Cassian says, mildly, to Jyn. “Now you can lose twice!”

“That invitation to bite me still stands, you know.”

“Oh, believe me, I do.”

Jyn stretches her arms out wide. “I should be on the move. I’m never going to take Baze’s spot if I stand here fucking around with you.”

“You’ll have to take mine first.”

“Oh, honey,” she says, patronizingly. “That won’t be a problem.”

“Y’all,” Bodhi’s voice crackles over the radio again, “I swear these kids are just drinking paint thinner.”

“Ew, did you try the flask?” Jyn asks into her walkie immediately. “If Bodhi gets to drink, we all do.”

“No, you absolute child, I just sniffed it.”

“And?”

“And I think it’s the last thing I’ll ever smell.”

Jyn sticks her tongue out at Cassian in disgust, making him laugh. “Easily half of mine have just been Fireball Whiskey,” he says, to the group.

“Ah, to be young,” Baze says, wistfully.

“You couldn’t pay me to drink that now,” Jyn says, just to him. “Actually, who am I kidding? I’m a public school teacher with student loans. You could pay me to do just about anything.”

“That is good to know,” Cassian says, raising an eyebrow at her suggestively, and she smacks his arm. “What? I have this fence at my place that needs painting and I–”

“First, Percy Shelley and now Mark Twain? Can’t I get a goddamn break around here?”

That is, of course, the moment two students choose to approach them and, naturally, they’re both on his caseload. They laugh nervously at hearing one of the teachers swear, but ultimately just ask Cassian if it’s okay for them to take a photo with him.

“Of course,” he says, straightening his jacket a little awkwardly.

“I’ll take it, if you like,” Jyn offers, holding out a hand. “I can work wonders with an iPhone.”

The two girls hand over their phones, and Jyn diligently takes a few shots with each of them. After a moment, she says, “Last chance to give Mr. Andor devil horns or bunny ears. Going once…”

“Okay, I think we’re good,” he says, stepping back to let the girls collect their phones from Jyn.

“Thanks, Mr. Andor,” one of them, Leida, says, brightly. “And you, Ms. Erso.”

“No problem,” Jyn says, looking amused.

“I really like your dress, by the way,” the other girl, Maia, adds.

“Oh, thank you,” Jyn replies, looking down at it self-consciously, as they head off. She returns her gaze to Cassian, looking ready to pounce. “What’s it like to have such ardent admirers?”

“Oh, shut up,” he says, rolling his eyes, even though he can feel his face warming up at her teasing. “Both of them are going off to ivy league schools with my help. That’s all it is.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it has nothing to do with how handsome you are.”

“You think I’m handsome?” he asks, delighted. “Jyn, I had no idea!”

“Then you’re as blind as Chirrut,” she grumbles, holding her radio up to her mouth. Before he can ask any follow-up questions, she presses the button and asks the group, “Are we tracking how many photos with students we take? Because I hate to admit this, but Cassian might be in the lead.”

“No way,” Bodhi responds. “I’ve taken so many!”

“Were we counting those?” Baze asks. “Chirrut, as master of ceremonies…”

“They’re going to have to start paying me extra to keep track of all these different competitions!”

“I was kidding!” Jyn exclaims. “Your students have seriously been asking for photos all night?”

There’s overlapping sounds of agreement from everyone, making Jyn frown.

“Those bastards,” she grumbles. “I let them eat lunch in my classroom so they don’t get bullied and they don’t even want a photo with me?”

“You see, this is where being a guidance counselor pays off,” Cassian says. “Sure, you need an advanced degree and you don’t make any more money, and you mostly deal with kids having breakdowns about FAFSA in your office all day, but sometimes, at prom, students will ask for a photo with you. That’s why Baze and I are crushing it.”

Jyn snorts. “Yeah, because I never deal with kids crying in the art room,” she says. “And besides, Bodhi is a teacher, just like me, and everyone likes him!”

“He’s an English teacher,” Cassian points out. “He pulls that Dead Poets Society crap with them and lets them recite poems while standing on their desks, or whatever. Of course they like him.”

“And I just teach them how to express themselves through art! Boring!”

“So boring,” he says, even though he sometimes thinks Jyn has the hardest teaching job in the whole school. She’s a photographer by training, but she has to teach every artistic discipline that the school can afford the supplies for. He’s been to her classroom when she’s doing her Senior Project Seminar, which functions like an independent study for the students to choose what they want to make for the semester, and she’ll be critiquing photos with one student, while helping another with a sculpture, and ordering supplies for the kids drawing with charcoal and pastels or painting with oils and watercolors. It makes his head spin just to watch.

“It’s not the dress, is it?” she suddenly asks, anxiously. “I know Maia said it was cute, but she wasn’t being sarcastic, right?”

“No, she—the dress is fine. You look nice.”

Jyn blinks at him, a little surprised, and really, it’s not like he never compliments her. Of course, caught wrong-footed like that, he immediately tries to backtrack. “I mean, it’s a little 90s, but that’s in again, apparently, so you’re good.”

“90s?” she asks, looking slightly insulted. “How is it 90s?”

“I don’t know, it’s just…black and plain. The neckline is kind of…you know…”

“I clearly do not! Didn’t you just say it was fine?”

“It is! There’s nothing wrong with the 90s! It’s not your actual prom dress, is it?”

Jyn gives him a withering look. “No, Cassian, it is not. I didn’t go to prom in the 90s, for one thing. I was in high school in the 2000s.”

“Close enough.”

“And I didn’t go to prom at all for what it’s worth.”

“You didn’t go to prom?”

She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t look at him. “Does that really surprise you?”

“Did no one ask you?”

She turns on him then. “Why is that your first thought?!”

“Because you said—I meant, because that would surprise me!”

“Sure!”

“I’m serious. I would be shocked, if that was the reason.”

“The reason was I thought dances were stupid and my uncle would have told me it was stupid and my boyfriend was older, so—”

“Ah, makes sense.”

“Don’t—it wasn’t like that.”

“Sounds like it was exactly like that.”

“It wasn’t—he was a nice guy. He would have gone, if I’d asked.”

“But you wanted to smoke weed and pretend to like the movie Fight Club in his basement instead.”

Jyn rolls her eyes again, but he can see she’s also fighting off a smile. “Something like that. Anyway, that was junior year and then…well, I dropped out, so I obviously couldn’t go to my senior prom.”

“I didn’t know that,” Cassian says. “You got your GED instead?”

“Yeah, after a year or two of fucking around and doing nothing with my life, I decided having a high school diploma and maybe a college education might be useful.”

“And boy were you wrong.”

She laughs. “Don’t tell the kids.”

“It’s part of my oath as their guidance counselor, don’t worry.”

“What about you? Did you do the whole prom thing when you were in school?”

Cassian shifts uncomfortably, checking to make sure none of their students are in earshot. “Uh, yeah, you could say that,” he says, once he’s satisfied they won’t be overheard. “I had kind of the typical prom experience, I guess.”

“I genuinely have no idea what that means.”

“It means, I was eighteen when I went to my prom, so I did the whole ‘rent a hotel room afterwards and get laid’ thing with my…girlfriend.”

Jyn covers her mouth with her hands, clearly hiding a laugh. “You did not!”

“I did,” he replies, cringing. “I’m not proud.”

“Is that where the healthy pause before ‘girlfriend’ came from? Shame?”

“It’s…we…” Cassian laughs. It’s been almost twenty years and he still doesn’t know how to explain his relationship with Bix to other people. It would almost be easier if they weren’t still friends, because then he could call her an ex and be done with it. He’s glad they’re still friends, for what it’s worth, it’s just so much more complicated to explain. “She wasn’t exactly my girlfriend.”

“Oh, no…”

“She was my best friend. She still is—one of them, at least.”

“Oh.”

“We went to prom together because, well, no one else asked either of us. And we decided to get a hotel room after because we were eighteen and no one could stop us and we wanted to…”

“Yeah, uh, I know what you wanted to do,” Jyn says, amused.

“It was one of those ‘let’s just get it over with, together’ kind of deals,” he says, feeling hot with embarrassment over his younger self’s antics. Everything feels so urgent and intense when you’re young, but that somehow fades with age. And he admits that even as an adult who’s still frequently urgent and intense. “It seemed like the best way to handle it, at the time.”

“So, you’re telling me that this was…your first time?”

Cassian nods.

“At prom?!”

“After prom! It’s not as bad!”

“By a very slim margin,” Jyn says, clearly taking pity on him. After a moment, she adds, “You said you and this girl are still close?”

“Yeah, we’re still friends. We tried to date afterwards, because it turned out we liked hooking up, but it wasn’t—we worked better as friends, ultimately. We’re still friends. I went to her wedding last year. I mean, I was in it, but that’s because I know her husband too.”

“Wait, Brasso’s wedding?” Jyn asks. He’d shown her and some of the staff pictures after he came back, he’s just now remembering. “You dated Brasso’s wife in high school?!”

“It was obviously before they knew each other. I mean, I introduced them, so…”

“That’s so weird.”

“It’s not that weird.”

“I just don’t have any exes I’m close with still,” she says, shaking her head. “Not close enough to be in their wedding. I mean, goddamn.”

“Bix is barely an ex-girlfriend, at this point. She’s like family.”

“Wow.”

“I’m guessing things didn’t end well with Fight Club guy?” Cassian asks.

“Technically, I think I was the Fight Club guy in that relationship,” she says, with a laugh. “And no, things didn’t end well.”

“Not something you like talking about, I gather.”

“Not really,” she says, looking far-off and sad. It’s possible there are tears in her eyes, or maybe it’s just a trick of the strobing lights coming from the DJ’s booth. “Not at prom, at least,” she adds, with a weak smile.

He smiles back. “Well, I’d offer to dance with you, to help give you the prom experience you never had, but all of these kids have cell phones and a video of us would for sure end up on the internet, which we should probably avoid.”

“Scared of going viral on TikTok with me?” she asks.

“Deeply, deeply scared, yes,” he says, putting his hand on his heart. “My worst nightmare is ending up on Good Morning America being interviewed about a heartwarming video of me that I didn’t know was being taken.”

“But maybe if we got famous, random people would buy supplies for our classrooms,” Jyn says, her enthusiasm clearly faked if the devilish glint in her eye is any indication.

“I’m a guidance counselor,” he says. “I don’t need supplies. I need someone to burn the College Board to the ground.”

“With enough followers on TikTok, we could probably make that happen.”

“Sounds like someone really wants to dance with me,” he quips.

“Well, it might be my last chance.”

The song changes then, to a chorus of coos from a group of students at the edge of the dance floor nearby, and Jyn laughs. Cassian, meanwhile, is sweating. He suspected that a few people knew he was interviewing at another school, but he didn’t want to bring it up to anyone until he was sure of his plans, one way or another. But, apparently, Jyn knows.

“Tell me you at least know who this is,” she says, pointing up to indicate she means the song that’s playing.

“I’ve never heard this song in my life,” he admits, a little breathlessly.

“But you recognize the singer?” she asks. Cassian shakes his head, and she laughs again. “How do you work in a high school and not know who Taylor Swift is?”

“I know who she is,” he objects. “I just don’t recognize her singing voice immediately, I guess.”

“I forgot. You sit in your windowless office and listen to Creed all day.”

“You caught me listening to Creed one time! It is not a habit.”

“Well,” Jyn starts to say, before pausing abruptly as two students pass in front of them. “Hold on, was that—?”

“Hey, guys,” Cassian calls, immediately, and the two boys stop in their tracks. “You’re not allowed to have that here. Hand it over.”

The students clearly take a moment to debate the merits of complying with this order, before one of them reaches into his jacket pocket and produces a flask. He hands it to Cassian with a mumbled apology, which he accepts with a nod and waves them back to the dance. Cassian flips the top open, and tips it in Jyn’s direction.

She sniffs it. “Peach schnapps,” she says. “Classic.”

Cassian retrieves his walkie-talkie. “Got another flask for the count,” he says. “Not sure if it goes to me or Jyn, though.”

“A group effort?” Bodhi asks. “Unheard of.”

“Half a point each?” Jyn suggests.

“I’ll give you each a full point for it,” Chirrut replies. “But please know your spirit of bipartisanship disgusts me to my core.”

“Noted,” Jyn says into her radio. To him, she says, “We should probably spread out. For actual security reasons, but mostly because I refuse to share a medal with you at the end of this thing.”

“Firstly, it’s a secondhand karate trophy for the top prize—”

“Okay, well, now I want it even more, so…”

“Secondly, you’re never going to tie me, let alone beat me—”

“Your confidence will be your downfall, Andor.”

“And lastly, who, uh…who told you I was interviewing for another job?”

She pauses at that, and looks him over. “Mon let it slip,” she says, after much consideration. “It was an accident, she didn’t mean to—”

Cassian waves away her explanation. “I’m sure,” he says. “I’m not upset.”

“She was ranting to me and Bodhi about something to do with the school board and—”

“So, you and Bodhi both know?”

Jyn winces. “Uh, yeah.”

“And Baze knows because I thought it was only fair that I told him I was looking for other jobs…”

“Which means Chirrut knows,” she says, and he laughs. “And I’m sure you told Kay.”

“Yeah, so that….is a lot of people,” Cassian says, weakly.

“It’s not like we’re going to judge you if you don’t get it.”

“I—why would you assume I won’t get the job?”

She blinks, caught off guard. “I don’t! That’s not what I meant. You probably will, but on the off chance you don’t.”

“They made me an offer,” he admits, and watches her deflate.

“Oh,” she says. “Well, then, congratulations?”

“I haven’t accepted yet,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous tic. “They’re going to call me on Monday, so I have until then to decide.”

“Do you know what you’re going to say?”

“Not yet. I’m still…thinking.”

“That’s not like you,” she says, crossing her arms. “You usually have your mind made up on stuff right away. You’re not a ‘last minute’ kind of guy.”

“Well, I’m glad you know what kind of guy I am,” he replies, feeling oddly adversarial. She doesn’t mean anything by it, but still. He doesn’t like hearing himself described as though he’s so predictable.

“Okay,” Jyn says, putting her hands up in surrender. “You don’t want to talk about it. That’s fine.”

“I’m just saying, you don’t know me like that.”

She blinks for a moment at that before she schools her expression into something more neutral. “You’re right,” she says. “I don’t know you. I don’t know what you’re going to do, and you probably won’t even tell me once you decide. You’ll let Mon, or Baze, or whoever, do that, instead.”

“That’s not—!”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” she says. “I’m just your co-worker, not your friend, I guess.”

“Jyn…”

“We need to split up, cover more ground.”

He thinks about trying to stop her, but then it would just be a big scene involving two chaperones at prom, which the students would find endlessly intriguing. He doesn’t want to draw that kind of attention, so he nods, solemnly, like this is all very important, and lets her go. Still, he can’t help it that he spends the rest of the night trying to spot her in the crowd as much as he does any actual chaperoning.

“The winner of the 3rd Annual Yavin High Senior Prom Flask-athalon–”

“I knew that would catch on,” Jyn interrupts, smugly.

“It’s the only choice,” Bodhi says, grinning.

“Please shut up so we can all go home,” Baze grumbles.

“Yes, listen to your undefeated flask hunting champion, Baze Malbus!” Chirrut announces, with great flair, as he hands over the trophy, which, even in the dim lighting of the parking lot, Cassian can clearly read that the inscription says 'Under 12 Judo Champion'. “Congratulations, my dear!”

“Thank you so much,” Baze says, drily, as he accepts his prize unenthusiastically.

“This is so rigged,” Jyn puts in from the other side of the group. “Baze wins every year.”

“Baze is good at catching teens drinking illegally, I don’t know what to tell you!”

“It’s true,” Baze adds. “It’s on my resume.”

“You know, that would be so weird for any other job,” Bodhi replies.

“Well, I wish I could give you all trophies for your hard work this evening, but then you wouldn’t learn any important lessons about teamwork or whatever it is that conservatives get mad about when the topic of participation trophies comes up,” Chirrut says, mildly.

“Kids these days,” Jyn says, mockingly shaking her fist. “Not enough of them hate themselves!”

“It’s important to experience as much crushing disappointment and embarrassment as possible before you get out into the real world,” Cassian agrees.

“And experience even more disappointment and embarrassment!” Bodhi adds. “While also paying taxes!”

“Also, there are only so many leftover trophies I can steal from the dojo before they’d notice and fire me,” Chirrut says.

“On that bright note,” Baze interjects, “let’s all go home. It’s been a long night and absolutely none of us are getting paid any extra to spend more time together.”

“Beautiful sentiment as always, Baze,” Jyn says.

“Thank you again for all your hard work!” Chirrut says, even as Baze grabs him by the elbow and starts gently towing him away in the direction of their car. “Our students are very lucky to have such dedicated teachers and counselors!”

“Thank you, Chirrut!” Bodhi calls after them.

“Drive safe, everybody!” Baze calls over his shoulder once Chirrut stops fighting him and laces their fingers together instead for the short walk.

“Night, guys,” Bodhi says to Jyn and Cassian before he starts to head off towards his own car.

“Goodnight, Bodhi,” Jyn replies, while Cassian waves him off.

The parking lot is empty except for their cars at this hour. They’d all met at the school and made the ride to the venue together, that way no one could call out of chaperone duty with car trouble or anything last minute like that. Probably there was some team-building aspect, too, but Cassian suspects the former was the primary motivation. Now, it’s creeping up to midnight and all the students have moved on to their afterparties and bonfires and whatever else, while the venue staff has streamers to clean up and tables to clear, and the chaperones are all heading home after a very long day.

It had rained briefly while the prom was going on, though it had thankfully waited until everyone was already at the venue to do so, which means no one’s photos or hair was likely ruined by it. The hazy humidity that had hung around all day was now replaced by a damp chill and a light breeze. The condensation glitters like jewels on the few cars in the lot and their dewy windows glow green as the streetlights reflect off of them. The wet ground blares with streaks of red light as Baze’s car starts up and his brake lights come on.

“Where’d you park?” Cassian asks Jyn, who’s still standing there, rooting around in her bag for her car keys.

“Oh,” she says, as if she wasn’t expecting him to address her. “Over there, by the auditorium.”

“Me too,” he says, nodding. “I’ll walk you.”

Having successfully retrieved her keys, Jyn brushes this off. “You don’t have to.”

“It’ll give me a chance to apologize.”

“It’s not that long of a walk.”

“I’ll talk fast,” Cassian replies, and holds out his arm as if to say, after you.

Jyn takes the hint and starts walking, allowing him to fall into step next to her.

“I’m sorry about what I said before, about you not knowing me very well. I didn’t mean to imply we aren’t friends, or that I don’t value your opinions, or anything like that,” he says, letting it all go like an exhale, because otherwise he won’t get the words out at all. “The problem is that I think you know me a little too well sometimes, and it honestly freaks me out. And tonight, you said the exact thing I was already worried about out loud, so I just panicked and tried to push you away.”

“The thing I said about waiting until the last minute really upset you that much?” Jyn asks, arms crossed over her chest. It takes him a second to realize it’s probably because she’s cold, and not because she’s mad at him. He starts to take off his suit jacket, but she stops him with a glare. “God, don’t.”

“You look cold.”

“I am cold, but my car is twenty yards away. I’ll live.”

“Fine.”

“Answer my question.”

Cassian stuffs his hands in his pockets just to have something to do with them. “Yes, it did upset me to hear that. I’ve been annoyed with myself about the same thing and I hated that it was obvious to you too.”

“Well, then, I guess I’m sorry too,” she says, earnestly. “I wasn’t judging you or anything, and I wasn’t trying to make you upset.”

“I know that. And thank you. I just—I can’t make up my mind what I want to do, and it’s very frustrating.”

“Do you think talking about it would help?”

“I’m not sure. The logical part of my brain is telling me to go, to take the new job. It’s more money, I’d be the head of the department in a better funded school. And while I love it here, unless Baze retires—”

“Which he won’t. At least, not for a long time.”

“Exactly, but still, that’s the only way I can move up and make more money. Unless I go to another school.”

“I get it,” Jyn says, and it sounds like she means it. “Those are valid considerations.”

“But I really do love it here,” Cassian objects. “I love the students, and I love the staff. I love working with all of you.”

“Yeah, and I bet all the teachers at that new school fucking suck,” she adds, with a malicious glint in her eye.

“I mean, what are the chances they do a yearly Flask-athalon at their prom?”

“It’s extremely unlikely,” Jyn says, somber now, “and if they do, they owe me and Chirrut royalties.”

“So, you see my dilemma?”

“I do. And I accept your apology, for what it’s worth. I didn’t know I’d be bringing up such a fraught subject for you. I would have been more careful, if I’d known.”

They arrive at Jyn’s car then and Cassian has to laugh at finding it parked one spot away from his own. The parking lot had been full when he got here, with a lot of underclassmen still around for extracurriculars and team practices and faculty staying late to do work, so he just picked the first spot he found. He hadn’t even noticed her car there, because someone had been parked between them. Now there’s just an empty space, where they stop to finish their conversation.

“It’s really fine,” he says, as he looks over at her. “I overreacted.”

Jyn shrugs one shoulder up to her ear, still looking cold in a way he finds provoking. He really wishes she’d just take his jacket. “It’s a big decision.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You know you won’t get rid of us just by going to another school, right?”

“Yes, but we’ll all see each other a lot less,” he says. “And you know how these things go. We’ll promise to stay in touch, or to get drinks, or just to see each other regularly, but we won’t. We’ll drift apart, sooner or later.”

“So, don’t take the job,” Jyn says, watching him carefully.

“What about all that other stuff–the money and the promotion and everything?”

“Who cares?” she says and he laughs, hopelessly. “I’m serious! If you were actually that motivated by money, you wouldn’t work in a public school. You wouldn’t have even gone to school for counseling, for that matter. So, turn it down.”

“But doesn’t that make me…kind of…?”

“Kind of what?”

“I don’t know! Ridiculous? Sentimental? Turning down more money to stay with my friends?”

“Again, I ask you: who cares?”

“Well, I fancy myself a very cool, detached person.”

Jyn snorts. “You?”

He frowns at her. “Yes, me! You don’t think I’m cool and detached?”

“No,” she says, “not at all. Are you crazy? You’re the least cool person I know!”

“Wow, thank you.”

“I mean, not that you’re not cool like—I’m saying you’re not too cool for anything, you know? Like, you care so much about everything! Even dumb bullshit that no one else can be bothered to even pay attention to, you care about it! I don’t know how you do it. I’m an art teacher, I’m supposed to be all passionate all the time, and I still feel like a robot compared to you. It must be exhausting to care so much.”

“That’s your impression of me?” Cassian asks, a little bowled over.

“I meant all of that as a compliment,” Jyn says, looking nervous. “And I didn’t mean to go on and on about it, I just—you assume everyone is like you, that they’re as good as you and they care as much, and I sometimes think you don’t see that you’re special. It’s the best thing about you, how much you care.”

“And I thought the best thing about me was my eyes,” he responds, weakly.

“Well, you do have nice eyes, that’s true,” she says, looking down at her shoes.

“I do have another reason—a selfish one—for thinking of accepting the new job.”

“What’s that?”

“I think that if there was someone here—someone on the faculty here, I mean—that I maybe wanted to date, it would possibly be less weird for us if I worked at a different school,” he answers, with his heart in his throat.

“Oh,” Jyn says, still not meeting his eye. Her foot scuffs back and forth on the pavement anxiously. “I guess, in that case, you would probably want to be sure that this person is actually interested in you before you make any huge life decisions with her—I mean, them—in mind.”

“I’m pretty sure she is interested in me too.”

“How do you know?”

“She just told me I have nice eyes,” he says.

Jyn looks at him then, her gaze lifting to his face suddenly as she narrows her eyes. “Seriously? How long have you—?”

It doesn’t take much effort—two steps, really—to get close enough to draw her into his arms and kiss her like he’s been wanting to basically since the day she started at the school. She makes a surprised noise that’s immediately muffled by their mouths coming together and then it’s just them kissing. Finally. And it’s every bit as good as he imagined it would be, with her kissing back with as much intensity as he’d expect from the person who loves to give him hell on a daily basis. Her arms come to wrap around his neck, dragging him down to her level, and his clasp around her lower back, desperately trying to afford them some stability in this position.

“The others are gone, right?” she asks, more or less against his mouth.

“Uh…” He turns his head, peering across the parking lot, which gives Jyn access to his jaw and his neck and he’s not mad about it, though it does make thinking straight more difficult than usual. He doesn’t see any other cars left. “I think it’s just us.”

“Good,” Jyn says, and pulls him with her by his shirt until her back hits the side of her car. Once settled there, she leans up for another kiss, and he has to brace himself against the door to stay standing. The condensation from the window wets his palm and makes him shiver, which makes Jyn laugh. He doesn’t bother explaining, since he’s not sure he could convince her that it has nothing to do with kissing her.

They make out like idiots, in the parking lot of the school they work at, where anyone could see them, for an inadvisably long time. By the time they come up for air, he has thoroughly ruined Jyn’s hair, the straps of her dress are hanging loosely off her shoulders, and anyone who looked at her would know she’d been doing some very serious kissing. Cassian is sure he’s looking equally disarrayed. Despite them being pressed closely together, he can feel the goosebumps rising on her skin and chafes her arms with his hands to warm them.

“How long?” she asks, softly, wearing an amused smile that might be at his attempt at gallantry or something else entirely. When he gives her a questioning look in response, she adds. “How long have you wanted to do that?”

Cassian pretends to think about it. “How long have you worked here?”

“Two years.”

“There’s your answer.”

“Really?” Jyn asks, astonished somehow. “I thought you hated me when we first met.”

“You made me nervous,” he says, still caressing her arms. “You still make me nervous.”

She loops her arms around his middle now, pressing them together in a way that feels very dangerous in a school parking lot. He clears his throat in the most obvious fashion imaginable and she gives him a knowing smile.

“That’s not the only thing you make me, for what it’s worth,” he points out.

“I gathered as much,” she says, pleased with herself.

He raises a hand to cup her cheek, drawing his thumb gently over the corner of her mouth. “You know, a nice person would say something about how I make them feel, at this point in the conversation.”

“You already got a whole speech about how passionate and sexy you are,” she objects. “Don’t be greedy.”

“I don’t think the word ‘sexy’ came up in that little speech of yours, actually. Could you maybe elaborate on that?”

Jyn shakes her head before she leans in to kiss him again, this time trading their earlier desperation for a slower pace. “Not here,” she says, once she’s drawn him in again. “Not to be corny, but my place or yours?”

“Whichever’s closer,” he says, immediately.

She laughs and bites her lip to try to hide it, which is very distracting. “Good answer. I think that’s me, then.”

“I’ll follow you,” Cassian replies, with a nod towards his own car.

“You don’t want to just ride over with me?”

“I don’t want to park here overnight, and I do not trust myself in a car alone with you right now.”

“It’s a five minute drive,” she says, unimpressed.

“I could get into a lot of trouble in five minutes.”

“Okay, then,” she says, with a gusty sigh. “You might have to put your money where your mouth is on that one.”

“Don’t worry. I’m willing to put my mouth lots of places.”

“Idiot,” she laughs, swatting his arm. “Let’s go, then. I’m freezing and I’m wet.”

“You’re—well, that’s—oh, from the car! And the condensation…from the rain.”

“Wow,” Jyn says. “That was so smooth.”

Cassian laughs, and hangs his head. “In my defense, I—”

“Yes?”

He looks down at her, looking a little flushed and mussed up and still utterly defiant and perfect. “I just can’t believe it took me this long to get here,” he admits, even though it’s a stupid and besotted thing to say.

Jyn gives him an endearingly sweet smile. “And I can’t believe I’m going to hook up with you after prom. I mean, what a cliché!”

“I did offer to give you the prom experience you never had,” he says, with a laugh. “Besides, some things are cliché for a reason.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asks, gazing up at him. “Why’s that?”

He thinks about all the stories he’s heard about love at first sight. He thinks about all the couples he’s heard say they’re in love with their best friend. He thinks about everyone who’s said that, when you’re with The One, you just know. He thinks about every piece of dating advice that told him to find someone who makes him laugh. And he thinks about happily ever after.

“Because they seem stupid until they happen to you,” he says, simply.

Jyn doesn’t bother saying she agrees. She just pulls him in for another kiss.

81 notes · View notes

shiftingparadymes · 2 years

Text

Birdhouse in Your Soul CC Pack

EDIT: DO YOUR RESEARCH ON THE OVERTURN OF ROE. DONATE IF POSSIBLE. IF YOU SUPPORT THE OVERTURN GET OFF THIS PAGE, UNFOLLOW ME AND DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME. IDC IF YOU LIKE ME OR MY CONTENT, I HATE YOU.

SUPPORT REPRODUCTIVE FREEDOM DONATE TO PROTECT REPRODUCTIVE RIGHTS FUND FLIGHTS FOR PEOPLE SEEKING ABORTIONS/GENDER AFFIRMING HEALTHCARE FINANCIAL AND EMOTIONAL SUPPORT FOR RESIDENTS OF TEXAS DONATE TO SUPPORT SAFE AND AFFORDABLE ABORTIONS IN THE MIDWEST

welp its finally here! it took a while but i got everything put together. this pack is called birdhouse in your soul after the tmbg song because they have been revolving in my brain hardcore lately (blame ale @eatsteas /pos). today, or should i say tonight, (its 4:15 am here) ive got three hairs, a pair of earrings and an outfit. there are issues with one of the hairs and the earrings, i couldnt get wardrobe wrangler to bin the earrings correctly and the matthew hair has gapping due to the original state of the hair. theyre all functional though :) i did not create any of the s4 items here (all credit goes to their respective creators) but i did convert em all

model: sekani kallis

@marigolde’s matthew tooltipped -: ✧ :-゜・．all ages and genders 13.5k poly (simgarooped version by @rascalcurious here)

ea’s ear hoop mid -: ✧ :-゜・．tf-ef 576 poly

model: bakari kallis

@simstrouble‘s montrose animated & tooltipped -: ✧ :-゜・．cu-am 16.5k poly

model: zainab kallis

@sheabuttyr’s faye animated & tooltipped -: ✧ :-゜・．pu-ef 4k poly

mashup of @trillyke‘s illusion top tooltipped -: ✧ :-゜・．af - all morphs - full body 3.2k poly (recolors of this outfit by @rascalcurious here)

download all here simfileshare | mediafire

i hope you guys enjoy! resources under the cut and my tou is here

also an extra big special thanks to @platinumaspiration for teaching me how to animate hairs and answering my silly questions, and thank you to my buddies on discord for entertaining me with various things like my man thats not my man ( @simstationdance im looking at u /lh) , lets go lesbians and my favorite from my close friend finn who doesnt have tumblr, vidcundwerfen. yea we’re fine totally

sekani’s top

bakari’s glasses bakari’s top

#the sims 2 #ts2 #the sims 2 cc #ts2 cc #s2cc #the sims 2 hair #the sims 2 clay hair #ts2 clay hair #clay hair #my cc #the sims 2 outfit #ts2 outfit #the sims 2 earrings #ts2 earrings #earrings #ts2 natural hair #the sims 2 natural hair

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nyukyujs · 2 years

Note

Yo kya :)

Yes dear ? ^_^

#★♡★ moots ... zainab💘 ★♡★#★♡★ kya answers ★♡★#<33

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qiyama-t · 8 months

Text

She was asked, “How did you find the way Allah treated your brother and your family?”

She answered: “I saw nothing but beauty”

- Sayeda Zainab, Battle of Karbala

السلام عليكم بطلة كربلاء

#ahlulbayt #islam #karbala #imam ali #imam hussain #Sunni #shia islam #quran #sahih bukhari #sahih muslim

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 1 year

Text

Tweet translation (autotranslated by Google):

One of the Zuaiter family killed his wife, the mother of his children, with ten bullets. And there are people from the clan who are posting a video of the victim’s brother opening the killer’s coffee as evidence that there is no trace or problem between them after the crime because he said “wash their shame” and if he had not killed his wife, the brother would have been killed!!!!! And that the perpetrator's life continues as normal, and no one talks about the crime!!!!

Published: Mar 26, 2023

[ Note: Autotranslated by Google. ]

Yesterday dawn, Saturday, March 25, at around 2:30, a horrific crime took place in the Choueifat desert locality. Zainab Ali Zuaiter (26 years old, Lebanese) and a mother of three children, was killed by her husband, called Hassan Musa Zuaiter (27 years old, Lebanese) from the town of Baalbek happened when the latter fired about ten bullets at his wife, killing her instantly. Soon, the security forces and criminal investigations came to the crime scene, and the victim, disfigured by a gunshot wound to the head and eyes, was transferred to the nearest hospital, covered in her own blood. General for the surroundings and relatives of the couple. The circumstances of the crime In the details, one of the residents of the area, a 55-year-old government employee, told Al-Modon that “the crime took place between two thirty and three in the morning yesterday, when the perpetrator, who works in several professions, most notably public transport, was sitting with his friends in a café.” A relative, to receive a call from an unknown person. Dazzled and pale in face, and clearly showing discontent and rage, the offender ran towards his nearby house, and after a few minutes we heard the loud scream. The witness added: "The husband fled with his three children, leaving his wife, covered in her blood and killed, on the bed, in their apartment, which is located next to the "Zaiter" supermarket. When the security forces arrived at the vicinity of the apartment, the husband and his family were hidden from view. This is while another neighbor suggested that the motive for the crime was “honor”, at the expense of the neighbor with whom Al-Modon contacted, refusing to disclose any other data.

While most of the residents near the couple's apartment indicated that the husband had been suffering from several nervous disorders for a long time, he could not bear to receive an anonymous call informing him of his wife's betrayal. They reported that the motive was that the husband searched his wife's phone (which had disappeared from the crime scene, according to security sources), and found pictures of her without a veil. This angered him, and made him kill his wife in front of his children, the eldest of whom is less than seven years old. While the husband disappeared from view, fleeing from the security forces that issued a search and investigation report against him, Al-Modon's security sources indicated that they are still examining the crime scene, the apartment, which was sealed with red wax. Honor killing! The follow-up sources, who refused to mention her name, reported that the victim was buried yesterday, a few hours after her death, in the "Hay al-Salam" cemetery adjacent to the Choueifat desert locality, while the victim's brother, Hassan Ali Zuaiter, refused to hold the funeral, until he took his revenge on the killer. While the killer is still hiding from view, the fate of their three children is unknown. Most of those Al-Modon contacted tried to evade the answer, and even created justifications for the husband, “in his capacity as a victim of his wife’s betrayal and treachery,” hiding behind some stereotypical and repetitive scenarios that emerge at every similar crime, contenting themselves with saying that the killer with the intention of taking his honor is the authority of the truth. And his owner, who was stolen from him by force, at the hands of his wife. This is while it was difficult to communicate with the grieving and angry family of the victim, who insisted on taking their rights into their own hands.

It is noteworthy that Article 562 of the Lebanese Penal Code dealt with “honor crimes”, which allowed the perpetrator of this crime to benefit from the excuse that is exempt from punishment. i.e., whoever surprises his husband, one of his ascendants, descendants, or sister in the act of witnessed adultery or in the case of unlawful sexual intercourse, and kills or harms one of them unintentionally, while the perpetrator of the murder benefits from a mitigating excuse if he surprises his husband, or One of his ancestors, descendants, or sister is in a suspicious situation with another.

However, according to Law No. 7/99 issued on 20/2/1999, Article 562 was repealed and replaced with the following text: “He who surprises his spouse, one of his ascendants, descendants or sister in the case of witnessed adultery or in the case of unlawful intercourse shall benefit from a mitigating excuse.” So I unintentionally killed or harmed one of them.” Where the amendment dealt with the excuse excuse to become a mitigating excuse in addition to the cancellation of the second paragraph of the old Article 562. This horrific crime, which has not been discussed so far, under the shadow of secrecy adopted by those close to the perpetrator and the victim alike for fear of shame and scandal, and with all its overlapping indications and suspicions, directly reflects the reality of rights in Lebanon, women’s rights in particular, rights It is dependent on popular chaos, security chaos, official connivance, legislative reaction in enacting fair laws, the absence of a legal, judicial and security deterrent for potential perpetrators, and even the dominance of defunct laws, such as “honor and revenge” and other social ills that spread in the northern Bekaa and the southern suburbs of Beirut, and have not been addressed to this day.

"iT's CuLtUrE nOt ReLiGiOn!!1!"

https://quranx.com/18.74,80-81

So they set out, until when they met a boy, al-Khidhr killed him. [Moses] said, "Have you killed a pure soul for other than [having killed] a soul? You have certainly done a deplorable thing."

[..]

And as for the boy, his parents were believers, and we feared that he would overburden them by transgression and disbelief.

So we intended that their Lord should substitute for them one better than him in purity and nearer to mercy.

https://quranx.com/5.32-33

Because of that, We decreed upon the Children of Israel that whoever kills a soul unless for a soul or for corruption [done] in the land - it is as if he had slain mankind entirely. And whoever saves one - it is as if he had saved mankind entirely. And our messengers had certainly come to them with clear proofs. Then indeed many of them, [even] after that, throughout the land, were transgressors.

Indeed, the penalty for those who wage war against Allah and His Messenger and strive upon earth [to cause] corruption is none but that they be killed or crucified or that their hands and feet be cut off from opposite sides or that they be exiled from the land. That is for them a disgrace in this world; and for them in the Hereafter is a great punishment

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Bukhari/USC-MSA/Volume-9/Book-84/Hadith-64/

Narrated `Ali:

Whenever I tell you a narration from Allah's Messenger (ﷺ), by Allah, I would rather fall down from the sky than ascribe a false statement to him, but if I tell you something between me and you (not a Hadith) then it was indeed a trick (i.e., I may say things just to cheat my enemy). No doubt I heard Allah's Apostle saying, "During the last days there will appear some young foolish people who will say the best words but their faith will not go beyond their throats (i.e. they will have no faith) and will go out from (leave) their religion as an arrow goes out of the game. So, where-ever you find them, kill them, for who-ever kills them shall have reward on the Day of Resurrection."

https://quranx.com/Hadith/AbuDawud/USC-MSA/Book-38/Hadith-4349/

Narrated Ali ibn AbuTalib:

A Jewess used to abuse the Prophet (ﷺ) and disparage him. A man strangled her till she died. The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) declared that no recompense was payable for her blood.

https://quranx.com/Hadith/AbuDawud/USC-MSA/Book-38/Hadith-4348/

Narrated Abdullah Ibn Abbas:

A blind man had a slave-mother who used to abuse the Prophet (ﷺ) and disparage him. He forbade her but she did not stop. He rebuked her but she did not give up her habit. One night she began to slander the Prophet (ﷺ) and abuse him. So he took a dagger, placed it on her belly, pressed it, and killed her. A child who came between her legs was smeared with the blood that was there. When the morning came, the Prophet (ﷺ) was informed about it. He assembled the people and said: I adjure by Allah the man who has done this action and I adjure him by my right to him that he should stand up. Jumping over the necks of the people and trembling the man stood up. He sat before the Prophet (ﷺ) and said: Messenger of Allah! I am her master; she used to abuse you and disparage you. I forbade her, but she did not stop, and I rebuked her, but she did not abandon her habit. I have two sons like pearls from her, and she was my companion. Last night she began to abuse and disparage you. So I took a dagger, put it on her belly and pressed it till I killed her. Thereupon the Prophet (ﷺ) said: Oh be witness, no retaliation is payable for her blood.

https://quranx.com/Hadith/IbnMajah/DarusSalam/Volume-3/Book-20/Hadith-2540/

It was narrated from `Ubadah bin Samit that the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) said:

“Carry out the legal punishments on relatives and strangers, and do not let the fear of blame stop you from carrying out the command of Allah (SWT).”

#Yasmine Mohammed #islam #Zainab Ali Zuaiter #honor killing #hijab #hijabi #Lebanon #religion #religion of violence #islamic violence #islamotrauma #religion is a mental illness

28 notes · View notes