Reform Through Arab-ification (on hold...)
  • Reads 1,903
  • Votes 167
  • Parts 18
  • Time 1h 50m
  • Reads 1,903
  • Votes 167
  • Parts 18
  • Time 1h 50m
Ongoing, First published Apr 24, 2014
"I've always thought of myself as a decent, respectable human being. Even at my worst, I really think a slap on the wrist and a good scolding is enough of a retribution to whatever teeny cock-up I get blamed for. Sure, I may have gotten drunk and flushed my dad's credit cards down the toilet - there was also that time when I took a piss on my parents' marital bed after a long and very alcohol-infused night out, but to be fair, my wonderful parents shouldn't have chosen the bedroom closest to the bathroom and designed it to have the exact same door. It's bloody difficult enough to tell them apart when you're sober, let alone when you're too drunk to talk coherently. The two or three or eight drags of Archie's suspiciously fat cigarette probably didn't help, either."

Meet Steve. A wild, self-righteous, ballsy little prick. Meet the Talibs. A straight-talking, conservative family of strict Muslims who take absolutely no shit from anyone. Force them to spend some time together, and what do you get? 

What, indeed.
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Odd Rose cover
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Love Like A Delinquent cover
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Odd Rose

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-"Why are you crying?" What, I didn't know I was crying. -"Come on." He offers a hand to help me up. -"Stay away... from me." I get up on my own a grunt escaping my lips when I feel pain in my knees. -"Your knees!" He crouches down to look at them up close. -"Oh don't act as if you care." I look down and see he has wet hair, which is reasonable since he came out of the bathroom. *Swoop* He scoops me up, my injured knees on his left and my head rests on his right shoulder. I hitch as he picks me up. -"What do you think you're doing? Put me down this instant!" I try to wiggle out of his arms, but it's useless, he holds me tighter to his chest. He gently places me on the bed, and I sit on the edge, I instantly throw my hand to his face intending to slap him. As if it were muscle memory he blocks my hand and gently holds it. He crouches down not breaking eye contact. -"Stella, I'm... sorry. I acted out on you." I know Jacob, and that probably was hard for him to admit. -"Let me treat your knees." He places a gentle hand over my wound. ~ ~ ~ ~ Her Dad was murdered fighting for what was right, her mom didn't love her dad all that much...or her, she plans to follow her dad's footsteps even though that might lead her to death. Her parents had a planed marriage, her mom was more on the medium class while her dad was lower, that said, he needed money to help some important people and ended up marrying a women he didn't love. She has an awful opinion of men. She loved her dad, but she was still mad at him, for his decisions. A little something might happen in her life to change that perspective.