no matter what everyone says i hate my voice

anonymous asked:

I don't know why it makes Me So mad that HV are getting all of this recognition and all, that's good for them and 5sos but I genuinely believe they don't deserve it, I can't see the hard work in their album that took 2 years to be finished, and it's not that clean, I think the balance is not found, and not to talk about Rena's garbage performances, her singing voice is perforating to my ears, I don't know how people can hook with that band, they don't give anything to the fans

Honestly I feel the same. Everyone assumes I hate hv and no matter how many times I say that’s not true, they don’t listen. I just. Don’t approve of any band who didn’t work hard for what they have. It just so happens that, on a 5sos exposing/ exposing pr stunts blog, they are the least worthy band I talk about. Rena hasn’t worked enough with her voice to be a legitimate singer, iain and Miranda can play but don’t pot an effort into branding and imaging, Casey is alright but not amazing, and Nia is a total let down on drums. They shouldn’t have what they have, and people who deserve it WAY more, are still practicing in their parents basements trying to get a gig.

anonymous asked:

*peaks* maybe an Ichi one where s/o wanting him to see himself as they do or S/o that doesn't think highly about themselves. (I relate a lot to Ichi...want that cat loving dweeb to know that he's loved and stuff)

((It’s alright anon, no need to hide, I’m not Ichi, I won’t bite OwO. Anywho, I will combine two into one with this! Also, sorry this one took a bit. I was trying to figure out how to use italics on mobile b/c my laptop is doing a system restore.))

———————–

“Ichimatsu, I love you. You know that right?” You came up and embraced your boyfriend from behind. You see, he had a bit of a self loathing issue. He could never see any of his good qualities, and to be frank, it annoyed you. He was so amazing and you felt you didn’t deserve him, but he thought differently.

“I don’t see why though. After all, I’m trash. Disgusting garbage. Useless filth simply taking up space until my life ultimately ends.” You couldn’t see it, but he was blushing very slightly. He loved when you praised him or said you loved him. Even though he wasn’t worthy of someone like you.

“Don’t talk like that. I’m the garbage in this relationship. You’re sweet, you always cuddle with me, you let me borrow your hoodies, and you take care of strays. You’re amazing Ichimatsu.” You said, feeling worse about yourself. “Whereas I…I’m horrible. I’m ugly, no one really likes me, my own family ignores me, I rant too much, my voice sounds worse than nails on a chalkboard, my hair’s all greasy and I just…I don’t deserve you Ichimatsu… I just don’t. I’m not worthy of someone like you…” You said, burying your face into his shoulder.

His eyes widened at your last statement. He had previously been thinking the same thing about you. But. He never realized that you felt like that. That you…hated yourself so much. He began to feel really guilty. He turned around and awkwardly pulled you to his chest and began petting you like you were a cat.

“Ichimatsu?” You said, trying to look up at him.

“You’re wonderful…” he said quietly. “You’re nice to everyone, no matter what they’ve done, you’re understanding, accepting, your voice is really sweet, and you’re just… beautiful. You’re not trash. I’m the dumpster…I didn’t even notice my significant other thinking badly about themselves. I’m a disgusting excuse of a human being…”

“Stop talking like that Ichimatsu! I hate it when you put yourself down like that!”

“That’s quite hypocritical of you to say considering that you were putting yourself down just now.” He said, matter of factly.

You looked away, not sure how to respond.

“I’ll stop talking bad if you do…” He muttered.

“I'd…… like that.” You said as you snuggled deeper into his chest. He continued petting you soothingly, the last thing you heard before falling asleep was a faint.

“I’ll always love you (s/o)…”

Love to Hate

     "Baby! Please come in here!“ he calls from the bedroom, but my feet stay glued to the floor.

     "Y/N, come on! What’s going on?” he yells again, his voice confused and tired, and again, I ignore him. 

     I stare at my reflection, studying each imperfect detail. The mirror shows me exactly how I see myself: one eye is smaller than the other, my black hair is frizzy and unhealthy, my lips are thin and boring, I have too much fat around my hips and thighs, the bumps on my thighs remind me of the way dough rises on biscuits (and not in a good way), my boobs are too small for the size of my stomach and hips, my smile looks strained and tired, and I just look so plain, homely, and…normal…Niall doesn’t deserve normal; he deserves perfection, an extraordinary woman, and I am anything but that. 

     Tears form in my eyes as I continue brushing my teeth and trying to focus on anything but my lack of beauty. With my mouth searing with that clean spearmint sting, I rinse my face and walk into the bedroom. There, my extraordinary boyfriend lays on the bed in his boxers, legs spread taking up basically the entire bed, his arms up behind his head creating a personal pillow, and his eyes slowly fluttering open and closed as he watches TV. I crawl into the cool bed beside him, and I pull the covers over me, silently turning to the side to hide my frustration. Niall, being the loving but oblivious man he is, turns off the lights, the TV, and curls into me, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me on the cheek. Within a few moments he is snoring into my ear and I know it’s now safe to let the tears flow. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Suddenly, bright lights are pouring down on me, flooding my consciousness with blinding whiteness. I hear the giggles and murmurs of a crowd of people invading my mind and forcing me to open my eyes to face the terror that confronts me. It takes a few minutes for my vision to focus and all I see are a sea of faces. these cruel, mimicking faces stare at me sadistically and I look around to figure out where the hell I am. 

     I soon realize that I’m on a massive stage, complete with megatrons. Soon, those burst to life and there I see myself, a confused and scared look on my face. the camera zooms out and I let out a blood curdling scream. I’m standing there, on this stage, completely naked in front of thousands of people. I scurry to cover my naked body, shame, embarrassment, confusion and anger turn my thoughts red. That’s when I hear it. His laugh. I look over, and there he is, the love of my life, looking at me without a shred of love or concern on his face.

     "Oh, Y/N, you poor girl,“ Niall sneers mockingly. "How could you ever think for a second that I could be in love with you?” he asks incredulously, getting a huge laugh from the crowd. 

     "Look at you, you sad, sad thing. Your hair is disgusting, your boobs are tiny, your ass is flat, and look at those monster thighs! Does everyone see what I’m talking about?“ The girls cheer in response. "Now ladies,” Niall continues, “I hate to say this, but if you look anything at all like Y/N here, you have absolutely zero chance with me, or with any of the lads for that matter! Please don’t let yourself be fooled like poor Y/N, it’s absolutely disgraceful! Niall announced, and the laughing continued. Their laughing voices and sneering faces consumed my thoughts. "Disgusting! Disgraceful! Detestable!” Niall’s laughing face repeats in my mind over and over again, and then I collapse to the ground, the pain and horror too overwhelming for my fragile mind. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     I woke up with my heart racing and a sick feeling in my stomach. I jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom, tears flowing down my face. How could I be so stupid? I need to wise up and leave Niall before he leaves me and tears my heart out. I’m not worth everything he has to offer. I stare at myself in the mirror for what feels like the millionth time, and I see everything that Niall pointed out in my dream. Sobs wrack my body, making each extra ounce of fat shake, quiver, and look disgusting. Every part of me is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. Each atrocity I notice is even more detestable than the last. I’m not fucking worthy of him…I’m not fucking worthy of anything!

     I begin to scream as I claw at my thighs and stomach, hate for every cell of my body fills every cell of my body. The door lurches open with a tired, shocked, and terrified looking Niall standing behind it, but I barely even notice. 

     His strong pale arms wrap around my body while my screams die down into terrible sobs. Niall whispers “shhhh” in my ear repeatedly. I can feel the warmth flow from his heart into my back and I continue to stare at myself in the mirror, Niall gripping onto me like a barnacle clings to the hull of a ship. I’m somehow so much more beautiful when he is here. It’s like his light fills up the room and makes everything a little better. Without him though, I’m worthless. If Niall is what makes me less than wretched, then I don’t deserve him. I close my eyes as a few more tears escape and I quiet down, internalizing my hate and pain. 

     "You’re so beautiful, Y/N,“ Niall whispers against my shoulder. 

     "And you’re a liar,” I sneer, unable to believe him.

     "Look at me. Look me in the eyes right now,“ Niall demands. 

     I raise my eyes to the mirror and see his bright blue ones staring at me over my shoulder. 

     "Do I look like I’m lying?” he asks, lifting one eyebrow with the most sincere look on his face. 

     "No, but good liars never do,“ I reply and look away. 

     "Come on baby, trust me,” he pleads. 

     "I trust you, you know I trust you!“ I say,"I just can’t believe you,” I whisper.

     "Well then, love, I’ll just have to show you,“ Niall smiles and before I know it, he’s standing next to me, his hand in mine, and looking into the mirror. 

     "Look at your face for me, babe. I’m gonna tell you what I see,” he says. 

     I nod slightly and look at my face in the mirror. 

     "Your eyes are rich and warm, your eyebrows are so natural and real, your nose is adorable, especially when I kiss it,“ he giggles as he does just that, causing me to roll my eyes. "Your lips are so gentle and sweet and every breath, every word that leaves them makes this world a better place. They taste like home.”

     I glance at Niall’s reflection when he says this and his eyes are wide with sincerity and his tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his lips as he stares at me, and something just clicks, like flipping a switch, and suddenly there is an intense sexual tension in the air.

      Niall clears his throat roughly, “your chin is one of my favorite things about you, Y/N, strange as it sounds. You get this little dimple on it when you laugh really hard, and it fills me with warmth. Your hair is perfect to play with while we cuddle and gently tug when we fuck, and you know how much I love that!” That comment forces me to smirk as my tension falls away slowly. “Your neck, so strong and elegant, is perfect for hickeys and nuzzling. Your shoulders are so expressive, the way you hold them lets me know exactly what you’re feeling. Your boobs, baby, those perfect boobs,” he says as he slowly lifts my top off, “are my favorite thing to lay on and the pillow I miss most when I’m away on tour. Your stomach, Y/N, is incredible. I love that when you’re sad or angry, all I have to do is tickle you, just a little, and you’re in a fit of giggles. I love kissing down your body, and laying extra kisses on your adorable belly-button. You know I love your hips and how soft they are when I grab them while we’re having sex, and I love your ass and the way you shake it when you’re feeling playful and you know I’m watching,” he says as his fingers slide down my sides only to hook in the waistband of my pajama pants and panties and slowly pull them to the floor. As I stand there completely naked before Niall, he continues. “I love love LOVE your thighs and the way they feel when they grip my hips or my head, whichever you prefer,” he winks, “and I love to bite and kiss them more than anything. Your legs are so perfect baby, and I love watching you lather them in lotion after you shave, and then I love feeling them when you’re so excited about how smooth they are. Lastly, I love your feet and I love the way you stick them between mine when you’re cold in bed and force me to warm them up for you. I love everything about you, Y/N. I love you more than anything in the world, don’t you know that? Now do you see what I mean when I say that you are beautiful?” His eyes continue to plead with me, and I can see the hope that he shed all my fears away in their brightness. 

     As I stare at myself naked in the mirror, Niall’s beautiful hands resting lightly on my hips, I start to see what he means. I may not be society’s definition of perfect, but for Niall, I’m the most perfect girl out there. I nod to Niall to signal that I understand, and a huge grin forms on his face. He spins me to face him before planting a huge sloppy kiss on my lips. I laugh against his mouth and wrap my arms around him, giving in to temptation. All i can feel are his breath on my lips and his hands on my skin. Within moments I am breathless and Niall grabs my hand, pulling me back into the bedroom before he pulls me onto the bed with him. 

     For a moment, we just lay there. His eyes stare into mine with a kind of longing I rarely see in him. He reaches up to cup my cheek, smiles slightly, and then dives in for another hot kiss. His lips melt into mine, the warm sensation filling my body, and I can feel my pain and worries flowing from my body as I ease into a sense of relaxation and arousal. I let my body take control, and simply feel Niall next to me, holding me, making me his, I lose myself, my thoughts, my worries when our bodies are entangled like this. Our breaths intermingle and our heartbeats become one. My hands wander up and down Niall’s back, my fingers digging into his flesh as if I want to tear him open and climb inside. It’s the primal need to converge as one synchronized being that pulls the frustrated moans from my mouth. His boxers and even our skin are unnecessary barriers that prevent us from merging into a single being. My hands grip Niall’s boxers, pulling this way and that as frustrated grunts tumble from my lips as I attempt to such my love into the flesh of his neck. 

     "Off,“ I grumble, before I let go of the fabric and let him do the work. 

     I feel rather than hear his laugh when he reaches down and pulls the boxers from his body. Immediately, I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him as close to me as possible. However close he gets, it’s just not close enough. I roll myself on top of his body, and sit up quickly. Just that moment of separation causes Niall to whimper and I reach down to grip his shoulders and pull him up to me. Sitting in his lap, I wrap my naked legs around him, and my arms wind around his shoulders. I cling to him as I move my body in unison with his, breathing into his ear as I grind down into him. 

     It’s now my turn to whimper as the need to have him inside grows and grows until it’s absolutely unbearable. I lift myself off of his body just enough for him to reach down and align his throbbing cock with my core. As seen as I feel his tip slide easily inside, I plunge my body down on him, taking him as deep as I can. A satisfied breath leaves both of our mouths and for a moment, we stay still. No speaking. No moving. Just feeling and breathing. The sensation builds a kind of togetherness, a unity that is unlike any other. 

     I lift myself up slightly, reveling in the way his cock glides out of my pussy, and when I slowly move back down, my name falls from Niall’s lips in one long breath as if he’d been waiting his entire life to feel the kind of relief and belonging that our love-making brought him. I smile as I continue my slow-paced motions sliding up and down on his cock while he holds me against his chest and his fingers dig into the skin on my hips. I smile, remembering what Niall said about loving the softness of my hips when we have sex, and the thought urges me to move a little faster. As I increase my pace, Niall increases his breathing and soon the air is filled with the erotic sounds of love-making. Our breathy moans, the creak of the bed, the sound of my ass slapping down on his thighs spurs us both on until we are in a frenzy. I can feel Niall’s body tense beneath mine and I know that he’s close. I reach between us to wrap my fingers around the base of his cock as it leaves my pussy and the sensation pulls a growl from deep within Niall’s throat.

     He bites down harshly on my shoulder before he flips us over and begins to pound into me harder and faster than I thought he could. His moans raise in pitch and my walls clench around him as he pushes both of us closer to the edge. I reach between us, placing my fingers on my clit to help myself finally fall into that sacred bliss. One look into Niall’s oceanic eyes and I can see he’s ready. The profane look on his face, eyes wide open staring at me, brows furrowed in concentration, perfect lips parted obscenely, and a sheen of sweat giving him a ridiculous angelic glow, and I am done for. His body stills as he comes inside me and my walls clench around him holding him close as orgasmic tremors pass through my body. Niall’s heavy breath fans out over my face and my chest heaves with exertion. He pumps in and out slowly a few more times before pulling out and collapsing next to me, his arm draped over my stomach. 

     "You’re bloody perfect,” he says as his eyes flutter closed, and with a gentle smile on my face, I fall asleep in the arms of my one true love. 

Listen

Henry’s voice message on flitto:
Hi everyone~ ah I have something that I want to say today.
I don’t know how I should say this but just wanna say that no matter what happens in the future, I will always think about my fans and they will always be in my heart. I’ll always love you…so don’t hate me(c)

Am I a coward?

These were my morning thoughts…

Are you a coward when you can not speak your words. I was fixated on my children speaking their emotions. I feel too many people keep their emotions bottled up. I feel we own our emotions and felt we should express them out loud. No matter what they were make your voice heard. I am strong with my words but not everyone hears them. There have been times when I have written notes. One of my first notes was to my father as a young girl maybe 10 years old. I told him I hated him and I wrote a note to say I was sorry. I didn’t do it all the time, I just tried not to speak and stay out of his way. I grew up with a very strict father and there was a lot of abuse. I didn’t know how to speak because if I did I was being fresh and that warranted a slap in the mouth. I was being honest and I was being a child. When children hear certain things we think they are fresh but they are not. For example this lady told my son and his friend “watch your mouth” and they came to me puzzled as to how can they do that. They said they can only watch their mouth in a mirror and they could not understand what she said. I do not believe as I child I was fresh I believe I was trying to stand up for myself but the result was painful so I just stopped talking. As I grew up I became fresh, my parents didn’t listen and all they did was scream so that’s what I did. When I went out and someone was snarky or rude I would tell them about themselves and get into arguments. This continued for years. I would fight with my exhusband all the time and because he never heard my words since they were insulting and loud, I would write a note. I didn’t do it often but when I really needed to be heard I put it on paper. I finally stopped with the yelling and poor communication when I became a mother for the third time. My child was physically disabled and she changed my outlook and the way I communicate. Why would anyone want to speak to a person that talks so loud and insulting. By then email was a popular form of communication and you can keep track of conversations. I communicate via email now for everything work, school or business relations. On occasion I still write notes but I love cards. That is something I do often for people I love, friends, family and the men I have dated. Cards are my favorite thing because they are little reminders and can be anything you want them to be. When dealing with loved ones or relationships is writing a letter a cowardly thing. I go back and forth with this because I feel I need to write a letter now. I just don’t know where to begin and my letters are at least 4 pages because I have to put everything into it and leave no room for misinterpretation so is my word best. I’m thinking I may write the note as a reference and speak my words. I always read outloud but feel either I leave something out or have to write a follow up because I need to be certain. It’s hard to find the right words in the moment because often times I get caught off guard and have so much to say that I miss the point and go around in circles. Now that I said that I think I will write some bullet points and then spit it out in a summary. I need to talk outloud because I need clarity.

this is really long and just kind of rambling

All this Felicia Day drama reminded me about how annoying all this intense backlash towards “fake gamers” (and more specifically “fake girl gamers”) is
Kaceytron is a really good example of the effects of this and she’s hilarious and pretty much a genius imo. She capitalizes off of the absurd amounts of seething rage from people on the internet in reaction to the very idea of a girl who says she enjoys video games but in reality…doesn’t know much about video games or is bad at them….!!!!  Her whole persona is this huge caricature that pokes fun at how much ridiculous anger there is online about this perceived problem of girls pretending to like games for attention or whatever and everybody fucking falls for it and actually yells at her as if they think she’s being genuine. They’re GIVING HER MONEY by getting mad, and it’s so ironic it’s almost painful.
Even in her videos that are extreeeemely obvious satire where she’s pumping up the “airheaded fake geek girl” act to 11, people respond to her angrily or make fun of her and it’s the funniest shit ever. They’re so ready to shit on her with volcanic rage like ME HARDCORE GAMER, FAKE GAMER BAD, ME SMASH that all critical thinking and self-awareness flies out the window. Aww yeah, a stupid girl on the internet, *cracks knuckles* time to lay down the law >:)

All she has to do is show her boobs and act ditzy and it presses all the right buttons for nerds who can’t stand that kind of thing for some reason and must retaliate by calling her a whore or a dumb slut, or else justice will go unserved. …Why do we care so much though?
Though I know now that it’s incredibly unreasonable and a huge waste of energy to be so hateful towards girls who don’t fit the stereotypical nerd image or seek male attention by liking video games, I can -kind of- see where these angry people are coming from, because I used to care!
When I was like 17, I thought “Oh no!!! With all these fake gamer booth babe attention hogs running around, nobody will take girls in this hobby seriously!!! people will think I’M just doing it for attention!!! They’re giving us a bad name!!!” But then, suddenly, I realized that’s fucking stupid and it literally doesn’t affect me in any way. If people assume I’m a fake illuminati lizard shadowgamer slut witch who lies about enjoying video games for some kind of personal gain, then that’s their problem, not mine. I like video games!!! I’m bad at them, but they’re really fun, and as long as they’re not being hurtful to others, I don’t care who shares this hobby with me.
If girls want to show their cleavage on cam while streaming some stupid MOBA, or take pictures where they’re slobbering all over their xbox controller and gazing at the camera with bedroom eyes (doesn’t anyone realize how unsanitary that is though) or discuss video games enthusiastically despite not being “hardcore” or “nerdy” enough then…Ok?? That’s their business. I think it’s silly and weird to seductively put a controller in your mouth or pose naked in a bed of video games, but I don’t HATE them or even feel the slightest bit of anger towards them for it.
Some of these girls are just trying to express themselves, even if it’s embarrassing for some people to look at (but who HASN’T done embarrassing stuff online…come on), but it’s not hurting anyone. It’s just a fucking hobby, you don’t need to grill them and make sure they’re 100% legit and fit all the qualifications, they’re not running for the presidency here. They’re not manipulating you into paying attention to them like some popularity succubus who cackles behind the scenes like, “Yes!!!! All these geeky boys are bowing down to ME, because I said I like video games!!! Muahahaha!!! Soon I will take over video games!!!!”
The vast majority of them actually…prepare urself for this….like video games!!!!! Holy shit! Probably even as much as you do! Can they name all 500000 pokemon? Are they ranked PLatinumultimatewhaterthefuck in LoL? Do they only play bad games, or easy games? Why do you care? There’s just as many embarrassing, unknowledgable tryhard dudes involved in the gaming community as there are females, and most of the time they fly under the radar without being accused of attention-whoring or lying by masses of enraged commenters. Big youtube personalities like DSP who get a lot of shit for being gigantic buffoons who suck at games exist, and yet this “fake girl gamer” thing is treated as a real problem that is “ruining the hobby” and girls on the internet can’t even mention liking games without people doubting them and spewing shit everywhere as if they need to prove themselves to these people.
And if you’re mad at how girls show off their boobs for views or pander to straight male gamers, why are you getting mad at the girl? Why aren’t you getting mad at a society where girls receive more attention just because of their sex appeal, or where everyone is so focused on whether or not a girl is fuckable that nothing else about them matters or holds any value. Video games are full of scantily-clad heroines showing their jiggly boobs and asses and this obviously sells well to the male demographic, so why are you shocked and appalled that women in the community want to feel more accepted or feel sexy by emulating that?
Yaya Han, a super popular cosplayer, is a genuinely nice person and a talented costume-maker, yet most of her fans just rudely comment about her boobs as if that’s her only selling point, (even though she’s said in the past that it makes her uncomfortable) and her haters only seem to focus on how they dislike that she shows off her body, and call her a whore because of this, or think this somehow makes her a faker.
Yaya Han isn’t perfect, there are reasonable critics of her out there, and fans who aren’t total sleezebags, but go on her facebook page for a few minutes and you’ll see what I mean : \  When she calls people out for being jerks, she’s met with even more assholes who cry about how she’s being “hypocritical”, because if she wears revealing cosplays, then she shouldn’t feel uncomfortable if tons of people reduce her to a sex object instead of treating her like a human!! Can people not understand how ridiculous that is?
I feel really bad for people like her, and I feel bad for people who can clearly see all this shitty stuff happening and honestly say “There isn’t a problem!”
Even when shitty stuff was happening to ME, when I was immature and so caught up in staying in with the cool crowd that I didn’t want to complain and be seen as one of “those” girls, I told myself that it wasn’t a problem. But now I know that no matter what I do, people will hate me for silly reasons like thinking I fake my voice or something, and I can’t make everyone happy, so I might as well just be real and talk about this stuff, cause who knows, maybe someone will read this and have the same epiphany I had years ago, or they’ll have a better perspective on the issue. That’s all I have 2 say