《Awaiting Angel - Larry Stylinson》Everyone Matters.
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This is not a chapter so if you are gonna bitch about it just leave.
As you can see, in every book I write one of the main characters (Mostly Louis) has a disability (Or should I call it a specialty.) and I have some drafts of books which are threaded with mental diseases.
What I wanted to tell you guys was, I don't write any of this for just my own pleasure or just to get reads and votes. Every book is written with a purpose and I thought that you guys should know about that. (Some of you already do.)
I write these kinds of books to make at least a little portion of this rude society realize that every single person out there really matters.
Even if they have Autism, Downs Syndrome, Angelman Syndrome, ADHD, tourette syndrome or any syndrome out there, they matter. Even if they have Depression, Bipolar, MPD, anger issues or whatever mental illness out there, they matter. They all matter. Just like you. Just like me. Just like everyone else.
So if you are just reading my books to look at Louis being cute, leave. Just leave. There is much more mean to this than that.
I want you all to realize how hard it is to the person who lives with it and to their close ones. I want you to realize the things that trigger a meltdown for a person. I want you to help them if you saw them having a hard time in public. I want you to be nice to them. I want you to be not disgusted by them. I want you all to have an open heart and an open mind about this.
I know you had an open heart and an open mind to see that the lgbt+ community does matter. So all I ask for is to have the same open mind and the same open heart to see this too.
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If you ever feel ignored or not loved, talk to me. I'm always here. I wouldn't be able to hug you physically but I promise to be with you.
I have problems, you have problem and everyone has problems. Talk them out loud. Look for help.
I know you don't wanna be annoying and an 'attention seeker'. But there are no such people like 'attention seekers'. We all just want to be loved and accepted. It's not a crime.
I love you all, no matter what. Stay happy and smile. (: xxx
(This is a late night though that comes with the heart ache from a thing that happened to my sister. I normally don't hate anyone but I hate whoever that makes fun of or are disgusted by my sister.)
-Ash
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"I am not sleepy so why don't we tell each other a story?" Her voice was low and raspy and fuck, I'd been lying if I say I wasn't turned the fuck on. "Like what?" I ask swallowing my pride and probably my sense of direction. Her skin was on top of mine, in contact, burning. "I don't know." She says taking her time to adjust herself on my lap. I had to grip the chair for support feeling all my breath vanish from my lungs. "Maybe a short bio about yourself." She advocates placing one of her hands on my chest. I feel the contact through my shirt, my eyes trained on every movement of hers. The worst of it all was that she is unaware of what she was doing to me. "Uh-" I feel my words shorten. On impulse, I grab her by her waist for support instead. Leaning back painfully on the single chair. "You're so cute when you're confused!" She giggles going ahead to move slightly on my lap. I blow out a groan feeling my erection harden.
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Going on tilt is like falling in love: both make you foolish and should be avoided at all costs. *BROOKEI hate Dean Hollis.I tell myself that every day. And some days, I almost believe it. Some days, I sell myself on at least a solid dislike of who he is and what he stands for.Like his stupid charming smile. His stupid sculpted forearms. And his stupid addictive cologne that leaves me light in the head and weak in the knees. He's a vintage blend of infuriating and intoxicating, all in one deceptively handsome bottle.Let's not forget his notoriety for emotional hit-and-runs. Dean is a bad decision just waiting to happen. I would know.Been there, done that... Literally.*DEANI remember the first time I saw Brooke Maccabe. My first thought was, holy shit. That's the hottest girl I've ever seen. I was trying to think of a good pickup line when she walked up to our door and gave Brendan a hug.My next thought was, fuck my life. Because that dime? She was my best friend's baby sister. And she was sixteen.Verboten. Off-limits. The Demilitarized Zone. She may as well have had a blinking red neon sign over her head that read, 'Look but don't touch: Violation punishable by death'.Problem is, I really wanted to touch.And the even bigger problem is, nine years later, I did.*18+ for explicit adult content
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