schedule ii

Hands

Fandom: Naruto

Characters: Uzumaki Naruto, Uzumaki Boruto, Uzumaki Hinata, Baby Uzumaki

Pairings: Boruto/??, Naruhina, Borudad and baby girl

Words: 2,310

Author’s Note: Not what I was planning on posting next, but I’ll take it. Thanks in part to matchaball

“She might quiet down if you pick her up,” Uzumaki Naruto stood in the doorway of his new granddaughter’s nursery, smiling at the sight of his son leaning against her crib, his hand dangling down to just brush over his daughter’s blanket. “Babies like to be held, ‘ttebayo.”

“I know,” Uzumaki Boruto, twenty-four year old new dad and recently promoted Jounin, spared his father a glance before looking back down at his daughter, a deep frown creasing his brow. Curious, Naruto went to stand on the other side of the crib, lowering his bandaged hand over the railing to slid his finger into the little girl’s tiny, clenched fist. For the moment, her fussing stopped and her large eyes focused on Naruto.

“You know,” Naruto started, looking over at his son. “I haven’t seen you hold her since she’s been home,” he commented, raising a brow in question at Boruto, who still just frowned down at the squirming baby girl. “Something wrong?”

“No,” Boruto answered quietly, but Naruto knew he was lying. He was the young man’s father, after all! Plus, you couldn’t lie to Uzumaki Naruto. Instead of pressing him right away, Naruto just reached down to pick up his new granddaughter, much to the baby’s delight, and stepped back to sit in the rocking chair. The soft, hand stitched pillows gave under his weight and Naruto let out a sigh, watching Boruto from the corner of his eye as he settled his granddaughter comfortably against his chest, her little head in the crook of his arm. She still clung to his bandaged hand, her cries and whimpers long gone, and now just stared up at him with wide, blue eyes. After a hesitant moment, Boruto came around the crib and sat adjacent for his father on the wooden bin that held all the baby’s new blankets and sheets.

Naruto watched him, quietly assessing the deep lines on his forehead and the bags under his son’s eyes, the way he’d started chewing on the inside of his cheek again, and thought he was beginning to understand what might be bothering his son. Chalk it up to a father’s intuition, or just the fact that Naruto had a knack for understanding people, but he recognized the worry in his son’s blue eyes. The doubt and fear that he tried desperately to hide, and Naruto knew what caused the stiffness in his son’s shoulders, he knew why he hesitated to touch or hold his own daughter, and Naruto knew why he looked so ill at ease. He knew because he’d been there, he’d felt that, felt it all, and he understood. “She’s a good baby. A lot less fussy than you were, ttebayo.”

Keep reading

Doctors' reactions to reading my neuropsych ADHD eval

“This is….extensive…”
“Oh good, now I can give you drugs. Gotta cover my butt with these Schedule IIs.”
“You have a very high IQ?”
“Can’t believe what they require you to do just to get assistance”
“Hmm… I suppose I’ll have to prescribe you stimulants. That’s what your after, right?”
“How long did it take you to go through this?? Wow.”

My responses:
“Yup”
“That’s important.”
“I suppose?”
“Yeah it’s a bit much”
“They do make a huge difference in terms of me accomplishing things. So yes.”
“Five hours”

the reason Even transferred to Nissen, probably. i don't know i did something, here, have it.

his head was racing again, thoughts ahead of actions, no safe distance between one another that could prevent the metaphorical car from crashing. he had been like this for a few days. well, not /like this/ in the strict meaning of the expression, but enough like this to know what was coming. the uneasiness, the euphoria early in the morning and grandiloquent ideas, sketching his sleep away, working ahead of the teacher’s lecturing schedule. HELL, WORLD WAR II WAS JUST FASCINATING, how did anyone expected for him to await for the following lesson, and the one that would follow that one, to finally read how it ended. Well, to be honest, the end of it was quite obvious, since there were no nazis ruling over Germany anymore, but, STILL. That shit was breathtaking, man. So real. He couldn’t believe it had actually happened like, only a little more than half century ago. Scary af. Don’t you think?
If he had just rambled all of this out loud, he didn’t notice until his desk partner gave him the weirdest look and a plastic smile that yelled !!!AWKWARDNESS!!! and then prompt him to whoosh it up. “or you’d get called out by the teacher”, she said, quite nicely, Even thought. People usually thought the boy was kind of odd, but just in an interesting way that gave him this cool reputation of being fun to be around, so making “friends” wasn’t really as much a big of a deal as it used to be when he was little, people rather liked him, even if they didn’t really know him further than that first facade of coolness and extroversion. Well, this was the moment it all goes to the most Absolute Shit. God knows he had tried to prevent this from happening, yet there he was. Damn bipolar disorder, back at it again with the unbalanced meds. He chuckled at the thought, which drew the teacher’s attention towards him, an eyebrow raised. She probably said something along the lines “would you like to explain the rest of us what it’s so funny about the Hitlerian Youths, Bech Næsheim?”, or maybe something less sassy, considering she was quite a nice old lady already swinging in her late sixties.
He maybe intended to answer, but he couldn’t, so he just… got up and left his chair unguarded. The eyes of the other fifteen students followed his back as he wandered around the room, making the path towards the blackboard unnecessarily long. Once he reached the plank he took a piece of chalk, with the astonished teacher standing still like a statue right next to him. His hand danced over the surface, or so did he think. It was more like spikes of energy and random twirls through his arm and projected into the board, making the letters funny and, really, barely readable for a far. Everyone was a staring in confusion, the teacher grabbed him by the wrist, not harsh, not even strong enough to get a reaction out of him. She asked what exactly he was doing, if he was okay. Someone sitting in the last row of desks yelled that he was probably on some “weird ass drugs” and a choir of laughter followed the commentary. This, as expected, did not drag Even’s attention, for he continued to write on the blackboard everything he has memorized about World War II. It could have easily been mistaken for a satanic conjuring if his terrible calligraphy was taken into account, as it was stated by another kid in the class. The teacher, still confused but visibly annoyed now, pulled his arm down and tried to put a distance between the boy and the board, noticing how the threats of disciplinary repercussions disappeared into thin air before reaching Even’s brain. The blonde soon forgot about what he was writing and focused briefly on the way everything around him spiraled quickly. He tried to let go of the grip of the teacher’s hands, who held him still as her lips spit out questions such as “are you high?” “have you taken anything ilegal?” “are you okay?” and again “Even, are you okay?” It was hard to piece together a reasonable answer with the loud mumbling of the class right in front of them, staring as if it was some sick performance that was sparing then from a tedious history class. He felt like laughing, so he laughed, and everyone just laughed along, or, perhaps, at him; he couldn’t really tell at that time, but he certainly did recognize the nature of their chuckles when it all passed.
It had taken him three weeks to recover completely for the mania, the depression, and the shock that had came along with exposure. It had not been easy, even at his seventeen. two years of keeping it a secret had not prepared him for the situation, not one bit, and it hit hard and had shaken him to the core, so badly his parents had been obligated to put him under professional care in fear of big big big relapse. It had only made it worse, so it took him three weeks and seven extra days to finally find the courage to walk back into Bakka’s corridors. He felt vulnerable, like every stare was fixed on him and his back. He held tight to Sonja’s hand most of the time, but it was still hard to pretend like he wasn’t definitely overhearing the conversation down the hall between the cheerleaders. “i’ve heard he went full on paycho on history class” “you saying he’s crazy?” “why do the pretty ones always have some kind of fuck up secret?” “I know, it’s so annoying” “vincent says he tried to hang himself once, but i don’t think it’s true?” “he’s too tall for hanging, Nia, maybe it was pills or some shit” “yeah, isn’t he a drug addict or something?” “no, margery says he’s schizo, she saw this movie once and claims the main did exactly what he did on the board and that coocoo way of acting.” “does it matter really? he has a girlfriend anyway so there was nothing there to catch either.” everyone laughed in agreement and then vanished inside a class after the bell rang. Even tried to reach his own room without any other messes concerning him and his little show, but people still stared at him, and a boy one year younger yelled “halla, norman bates, welcome back” as he passed by and continued his way making funny faces at him while his mates coddled each other and patted his back, saying “that’s a good one”. he stopped his feet mid-hallway and closed his eyes harshly, as if to get the world around him to disappear. he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and walked himself out of the school before the class started. he did not think he could put up with all of it, so he went back home and laid in bed for another week.

i. boys like him lick their lips before they kiss you. boys like him tell you to lodge your tongue between their teeth. boys like him always ask you questions about your mother and the boys who broke you and it’s always: who are you hanging out with this weekend? or what’s your work schedule this week?

ii. boys like him take take take but it’s okay because no one else has tried to know you the way they have. boys like him study the way your hair frames your face and they always tell you you’re beautiful, even through the heartache.

iii. boys like him ask about you to divert the focus away from themselves. boys like him make you realize you have known them for months and they’ve never mentioned their little brother; you only know the way their eyes change color when they are upset. boys like him only give when they want to receive and never let you get close enough to hurt them.

iv. boys like him are the mine mine mine guys but don’t worry it’s cute when they get jealous guys, the kind of guys who will make you delete every picture of you and your ex-boyfriend because it makes them feel insecure.

v. boys like him care. they care too much or maybe it’s not enough or maybe they are that goddamn heartless that they can act like this, but boys like him tell you they want to throw up when they imagine you with anyone else. boys like him grow pale when they think they are not enough but

vi. boys like him kiss girls behind closed doors. boys like him use sex as an excuse to mend their bruised egos and fuck up almost intentionally to shield their hearts. boys like him care about you, but they care about themselves more. boys like him know you could crush them, so they never let it go that far.

vii. boys like him know how to manipulate you. they cry on your shoulder and make you think: no, no, he’s just confused; he just needs someone to be there for him. after all, that’s what all the pretty, soft, flowery girls would do, and boys like him tell you you are too rough rough rough, nothing like a woman should be. you are asphalt and scraped knees and boys like him are afraid of your raw beauty.

viii. boys like him are difficult to get over. they make you cry, then wipe your tears until you are laughing. they make you miss the way they made you feel when they were lying between their teeth. boys like him are sunsets that fade to darkness and you are fascinated by the way the sliver of light travels through them.

ix. boys like him make you believe you are nothing without them, that you will never find anyone else, that your only two options are to be with them or be alone. boys like him force you to let go and miss you only the second you start moving on. boys like him don’t want to see you treated better because it makes them feel like they are not enough for you.

x. boys like him aren’t enough for you. boys like him are cowards. boys like him are afraid. boys like him hurt more than you will ever know, but boys like him are wrong when they think that is an excuse for being an asshole.

—  ten things i know about boys like him
youtube

Before we had YouTube or the ability to Vid the BBC were making these great little shippy promo slots like this. 

Today is Japanese American Internment Remembrance Day. 

On this day in 1942, FDR issued Executive Order 9066, which authorized the internment of all people of Japanese descent living in the “exclusion zone,” which constituted most of the United States’ Pacific Coast. Approximately 110,000 people of Japanese descent living on the American mainland were interned in “Wartime Relocation Camps”. 

Though the decision was at the time justified as a wartime measure against sabotage, no evidence exists to imply that sabotage originating with Japanese immigrants or their families ever occurred. Internment and exclusion were entirely the result of anti-Japanese racial bias. Racist sentiment against East Asians was common, and, at times, resulted in bans or quotas to prevent bar immigrants from China and Japan from receiving visas or entering the country. 

5

VOEZ and Cytus II TpGS 2106 info update:

  • The game cycle of VOEZ is you play the songs in the game as any other rhythm games, and then you’ll be shown pieces of story one by one in diary-like story telling style.
  • The time in VOEZ is synchronized with time in the real world. The main characters started as a high school students when VOEZ is released, but 2 years from now they’ll become a university students. It’s all managed through the game updates.
  • The game will be updated every 3-6 months
  • VOEZ Cafe, a cafe resembling VOEZ world in Rayark Headquarters, will be opened on April
  • VOEZ is scheduled to be released in China first for the time being. Simultaneous worldwide release is under consideration.
  • Cytus II is scheduled to be released on December 2016, but Rayark tells fans to not get their hopes too high about it, because it could be delayed. Check out more info about Cytus II here