ladyofsnark
If someone were to die at the age of 63 after a lifelong battle with MS or Sickle Cell, we’d all say they were a “fighter” or an “inspiration.” But when someone dies after a lifelong battle with severe mental illness and drug addiction, we say it was a tragedy and tell everyone “don’t be like him, please seek help.” That’s bullshit. Robin Williams sought help his entire life. He saw a psychiatrist. He quit drinking. He went to rehab. He did this for decades. That’s HOW he made it to 63. For some people, 63 is a fucking miracle. I know several people who didn’t make it past 23 and I’d do anything to have 40 more years with them.

anonymous reader on The Dish

One of the more helpful and insightful things I’ve seen about depression/suicide in the last couple of days.

(via mysweetetc)

THISSSS!!!!

(via thisisglorious)

frostings

Anonymous asked:

LOVE please :)

frostings answered:

Dearest anon, I’m going to assume this is Kakasaku. Hope that is cool with you. 

—————-

Love, Kakashi found, isn’t what he expected it to be. 

Well, of course there were the usuals. The bated breath, the odd humiliation of feeling that he wasn’t good enough, the skipped heartbeats, the clammy hands, the trembling sighs: All the hallmarks of people who fell in love. 

But if he was to be completely honest, he was disappointed how this phase ended so quickly, unbelievably quickly. He didn’t know if it was because he was so late in the game (if he ever had game in the first place) or because he and Sakura had known each other forever to be truly playing the shy lovers longer than they should. He had literally seen her at her worst: Zits all over her face, sleeping in mud, not bathing for over two weeks. And she’d seen much worse of him. Oh yes, much worse. The worst.

Now that they had passed through the starstruck phase, there was the whole business of….loving. It did feel businesslike, for the lack of the better term, the gentle breaking of the news to friends and family, the repeated explanations. Sakura had very tactfully told those who took a little more effort in believing them to either believe it or to shut their pieholes for good. Well, at least that was an effective method. 

And there’s this business of…moving in together. Not moving in together, as in, co-habitation, but the process of moving closer into the other’s space. There were walls to be knocked down, and rooms to be aired out, and he wasn’t always ready. Sometimes he would catch Sakura looking disappointed, when he’d casually shut her out, slamming the door in her face. But it’s second nature to me, Kakashi wanted to protest, but saying that aloud would be an even bigger disappointment.

But he tries, and luckily for him, she forgives. The thing was, he wanted her there, he really wanted her there, because she was clever and saw through all his crap, and took no excuses. However, he needed a lot of work, and a lot of help.

So maybe, this was what love was, that look of frustration mingled with understanding when they clash, when they run into the sharp angles, when she finally yelled at him for being inconsiderate. He’s still afraid that one day she’d see him and leave but one day she actually said, “Don’t be ridiculous; I’ll always love you.” And she said that in the exact same tone when she said, “Kakashi, you are impossible,” and he doesn’t quite understand why; but it’s all he needed to hear to know that yes, this was the real thing.  

(It’s better than anything Jiraiya’s ever written.)

leelooface

It was entirely subconscious whenever he’d straighten his back and puff out his chest into a more masculine posture. He’d recently come to realize that this was only ever the case whenever he was around a certain pink haired medic-nin. He couldn’t recall when this had started. Only that the telltale sign he was doing it was when his cheeks would become overheated and the color would then spread to his ears in embarrassment before he’d force his shoulders back into his usual slouch.

It was entirely subconscious whenever he’d straighten his back and puff out his chest into a more masculine posture. He’d recently come to realize that this was only ever the case whenever he was around a certain pink haired medic-nin. He couldn’t recall when this had started. Only that the telltale sign he was doing it was when his cheeks would become overheated and the color would then spread to his ears in embarrassment before he’d force his shoulders back into his usual slouch.

Rearranging Furniture; KakaSaku Oneshot

IN LIGHT OF RECENT EVENTS, I felt like writing my frustrations out.
This is my first KakaSaku fanfiction in 9 years. phew! 
i hope you like it! :) 

Title: Rearranging Furniture
Rating: T (for the language)
Characters: Hatake Kakashi, Haruno Sakura
Words: 1401 words
Summary: Sakura comes with a couple of surprises.
Fanfiction.net Link: [x]

——-

The door violently swung open to reveal a scowling pink-haired kunoichi, stomping her feet as she entered the room.

Hatake Kakashi snapped to attention from where he stood in the small kitchen to the right; surprised not because he didn’t know she was coming—he felt Sakura’s chakra flaring from a block away—but because he didn’t know she was THIS angry and shit, did i forget something?

Sakura went straight to couch, but didn’t sit down; she paced in a straight line parallel to it. “The nerve of some people, seriously!”

Kakashi exhaled. He didn’t realize that he stopped breathing then. “Sakura?”

"I was at Yamase’s earlier," Sakura’s voice became less loud, but Kakashi could tell that she wasn’t less pissed off. "You know, minding my own business? When this group of old crones decide that it’s their business too, apparently."

Kakashi brushes a hand through his hair and looks heavenward. Not those old crones again. Seriously? What’s a shinobi—someone with an occupation that deals mainly in secrets—got to do to have some privacy with his romantic relationships?

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