#graded reader

[dokushoclub]

Short Story Collections for Learning Japanese

Short stories are very popular with language learners – and rightly so. Being able to finish even a short tale aimed at native speakers will feel like a great accomplishment.

I had a look at three approaches for intermediate and advanced learners to enjoy Japanese short stories. For each I can also recommend a few matching short story collections:

Short Stories in Easy Japanese

Japanese Short Stories with English Annotations

Parallel Readers

I give my more detailed thoughts on all these short story collections for learning Japanese in my blog post. You can find it here:

[minimalist-language-learning]

April roundup — Russian

Another month is over! Here are my Russian learning activities in April: 

Anki

I kept reviewing the Russian starter deck and the Ru15K deck (see my previous posts for more details). But I also started my own sentence deck. I’m currently adding sentences mostly from Animal Crossing that contain only one unknown word. I decided to focus on Animal Crossing for a while until I can understand most dialogues more easily. (They are surprisingly difficult at my current level. XD)

Assimil

This month I did lesson 11 - 36. After reaching lesson 36, I started to review older lessons. At some point, I noticed that the lessons became more challenging so I think I should spend a bit more time reviewing new lessons before moving on. Reviewing old ones will also help.

(YouTube) Comprehensible Russian: Beginner 1

I kept watching videos from this playlist. I'm currently at video 31. I like it when there are several videos about a certain topic instead of a different topic in every video. This way, certain words are repeated more often and I can learn more about this topic. Some of them are really interesting. 

(YouTube) In Russian From Afar - Beginner Videos A1

I only watched one video so far. He tells children stories and draws on a white board while speaking to make understanding easier (similar to Inna from Comprehensible Russian). Russian subtitles are available. I try to understand as much as I can without reading the subtitles in Russian but if in doubt I can check what he said. The first video I watched was very easy to understand, though. 

(YouTube) Inhale Russian

Similar to the beginner videos from Comprehensible Russian, just a bit more "modern“ and efficient and Russian subtitles are available. Instead of drawing, he already prepared all pictures on his computer so that he only needs to point at them during his speech. I like Inna’s drawings from Comprehensible Russian, but the use of photos and graphics makes understanding the meaning easier and faster in my opinion. 

However, he speaks veeery calm. Almost monotonous even. Maybe he speaks like this to make it easier for beginners? Personally, I don’t think it’s necessary to speak that calm. A little bit more emotions and personality would make the video more engaging. If someone talks too monotonous, I tend to zone out (my mind starts to wander). This makes it more difficult to stay focused which is not helpful if you want to learn something. 

Short Stories in Russian for intermediate (by Olly Richards) 

I finished this graded reader! I read the e-book version. This book is aimed at intermediate learners so it’s noticeably more difficult than the beginner book. But it’s still easier than the novel I started (which is aimed at native speakers). By looking up every word I noticed a few small errors in the text (like a wrong letter or an additional letter for example). It’s not a big deal but learners should keep that in mind.

I don’t know if it’s because the level of difficulty was higher but somehow these stories gave me a weird feeling. They were not really my cup of tea. I liked the stories of the beginner book much more. Nevertheless, I learned a lot.

Две встречи в Париже

This book contains two stories. I already read chapter 1 of Медовый месяц в Париже so I continued with chapter 2.

Animal Crossing

I continued playing Animal Crossing. I’m using Google Translate to digitalize the text from the game, then I look up words and safe the text for later review. I'm currently using this material to create sentence cards (like I mentioned above).

Метро 2033

I couldn’t wait any longer. XD I started to read chapter 1. Tons of new words, but since I know the video game I’m not completely lost. I have at least a vague idea what awaits me. I’m very curious about the book!

Stranger Things

I watched the first episode of Stranger Things in Russian on Netflix. I turned off the Russian subtitles because most of the time they don't match with the audio. This is a downside because I can't easily check unknown words. So I'll regard it as pure listening practice. I only understand single words here and there, which is no surprise at my current level, but that’s okay. 

Maybe it's a bit early but I prefer to mix easier content (aimed at language learners) and difficult content (aimed at native speakers) instead of listen to learner content only. More variety not only makes the learning process more fun and interesting but this will also help me to familiarize myself to native level content. It will take a lot of time time to get accustomed to content aimed at native speakers so I start early. 

Plus, watching (or reading) difficult but interesting content is also a great motivation booster. Understanding interesting series and books is my main reason to learn the language. It's very hard right now, but as long as I keep going it will get easier over time.

[sixeyesonathiel]

satoru hated his last name. hated it like a stone in his shoe—always there, always rubbing raw. gojo felt less like a name and more like a warning label. it wasn’t his, not really. it belonged to history books and clan heads and a bloodline that never once asked if he wanted any of it. being gojo meant being untouchable, invincible, alone. he grew up thinking of it like a muzzle. like shackles. like a script he never got to rewrite.

and then he married you.

and suddenly you're laughing, calling yourself mrs. gojo like it’s the most casual, normal thing in the world. no fear, no hesitation, just soft affection wrapped around something that once made his chest tighten. you sign it on forms, whisper it into the phone when making reservations, scrawl it on love notes you slip into his coat pocket before missions. like it's yours. like it's yours and his, not just a dynasty or a curse.

and he can’t take it. he can’t fucking take it.

you wear his name like a promise. like a shared secret. like you want it. like you want him. and satoru—satoru, the man, the boy beneath the title—he doesn't know what to do with that. he's unraveling. imploding. your voice saying his name makes him dizzy, because you don’t say it like the world does. you say it like it’s precious. like it’s soft. like it means something good.

and it’s so stupid, right? that a name he once loathed now makes his chest ache with something too big for words? all because of you? all because you made it beautiful?

he used to resent it. now he wants to carve it into the sky just so everyone knows you chose it. chose him. chose forever.

maybe the name was never the problem. maybe it just hadn’t belonged to the right person yet.

but now it does.

and now it sounds like home.

[benravioli]

Y'all I got a new graded reader (part of Jeff Pepper and Xiao Hui Wang's translation of Journey to the West) and it's so good. I've never had material more perfectly fit for my level, it's like Krashen himself is turning the gears in my brain

[superbassbuck]

Grade-A Pain in My Ass [masterlist]

Single dad!Bucky x Teacher!Reader, enemies to lovers

64.2k words || completed || domestic fluff || sexual tension || no y/n || f!reader || angst/comfort || smut || ao3 || playlist

Bucky Barnes is a single dad who doesn’t do love. He’s got everything he needs: a steady job, cozy home, and his whole life wrapped up in one little girl, his daughter Rebecca. No complications, and absolutely no room for romance. After a rude and not-so-pleasant first encounter, he finds out you’re the elementary school teacher of Rebecca’s class. He would make it his mission to avoid you at all costs and to absolutely not fall in love with you. I mean, how could he? Especially since you’re a grade-A pain in his ass.

one || two || three || four || five || six || seven || eight || nine || ten || eleven || twelve || thirteen

[ilium-ilia]

John Price is the type of professor to attend each lecture with a mug in his hand and glasses low on his nose.

Crisp slacks, salt and pepper hair, and a button up shirt—he likes order. Doesn't mess with the power point presentations or online assignments. His lecture hall sports an old chalkboard and all of his assignments will be handed in on paper, attendance is necessary to pass, and exams are to be taken during class time, no exceptions.

He is also—unfortunately—the most infuriating professor you've ever had the misfortune of signing up for.

Each assignment you turn in gets handed back with scrawling handwriting that reads see me after class in blood-red ink. He's insufferably predictable in the way he sits in his office, sprawled back in his chair, fingers tapping on the table as he waits for you. For a minimum of ten minutes he forces you to sit across his desk so he can scrutinize you with never-ending questions about your work as proof that you know what you're talking about.

You hate the red tinge of his cheeks, and that tight-lipped smile and curt nod he sports as he listens to your impromptu presentation. None of your classmates can corroborate Professor Price's antics—it seems targeted. Yet, at the end he always tells you what a wonderful job you've done and to keep it up before handing your paper back to you with a smile, sending you on your way.

What he doesn't tell you—however—is that there is a long line of zero's sitting in his grade book beneath your name. How is he supposed to let such star pupil slip out of his grasp so soon?

[seokminfilm]

printer problems — vernon chwe

🤍 pairing, vernon chwe x reader

🤍 warnings, non-idol au, fluff, loosely (and i mean LOOSELY) based on the tv show abbott elementary, first-grade teacher!vernon, kindergarten teacher!reader, vernon is whipped, coworkers to ???, lowkey flirting, svt members mentioned as teachers, cursing (vernon says like 4 curse words), awkward vernon ftw

🤍 summary, the seemingly untouchable first-grade teacher vernon chwe has a little (read: huge) crush, and it's on none other than the sweet kindergarten teacher (aka you)

🤍 author's note, i was scrolling on my 'for you' page on tumblr today and saw a post by @miniskirtmods talking about an abbott elementary au with vernon and i was instantly enamored with the idea 😭 yes i know nothing about this show BUT this was just too cute of an idea to exist SO here we are!

(psa: if you don't know about this show, no worries!! there are no references to the show in this because i know nothing about it and don't want to look stupid trying to know 😭 so just enjoy it as a teacher!vernon fic)

🤍 now playing, mutt (leon thomas)

🤍 word count, 924 | for @kstrucknet, @maestro-net

vernon felt like a second-grader, taking his measly lunch of a turkey sandwich and ranch-flavored veggie straws to the teacher's table as he spied out the land.

("spying out the land" meaning trying to find a place to sit among the many teachers that made this underfunded school what it is.)

he could sit with fifth-grade teacher soonyoung who had a worrying obsession with tiger-print clothes, second-grade teacher joshua who all the staff thought was secretly gay, or maybe even third-grade teacher seokmin who also doubled as the school's event planner, music teacher and librarian.

(yes, they were that understaffed.)

all of those options paled in comparison to you, though—the new kindergarten teacher who everyone loved. you had gotten on everyone's good side in just a short time, and all of your students loved you, singing your praises as they went through the halls.

and vernon's in love with you—how? he doesn't truly know? why? well, he can list a hundred things, but over half of that list would make him sound desperate for your company.

(which wasn't all a lie, either.)

so, vernon, like the second-grade loser he feels like, awkwardly makes his way over to the end of the table where you sit, munching on carrots after dealing with a small disagreement between kids arguing about which sour patch kids flavor was better.

"hi, chwe." you smile, eyes meeting his for the ninth time today—not that vernon was counting or anything. that would be crazy.

...that would be crazy.

"hey," vernon tries his best to be nonchalant, throwing his boxed lunch on the plastic, slightly rickety table as he falls into his seat. his wire-framed glasses slide awkwardly down his nose as he looks down at the box, and he feels his cheeks heat up as you chuckle at him.

"your day been uneventful so far?" you ask sweetly, taking a bite of your salad as you watch vernon slowly. he unpacks his lunch, neatly arranging it before discarding his lanyard with his teacher id enclosed and wetting his lips.

"yeah, thankfully. i mean a kid did almost shit in his chair in my classroom, but that's nothing too new." vernon looks up at you through his eyelashes, admiring the sound of your pretty giggles. god, even your giggles were pretty.

"what about you? how's your day going?" vernon asks, finally taking a bite of his food as he watches you scroll on your phone. your hair falls in your face perfectly, obscuring most of your face except your pretty eyes as you return your gaze back to vernon. and that's the tenth time you've looked him in his eyes.

"it's going pretty good! we played with toys most of the day since the printer stopped working, and we—for some odd reason—we went and got the gym teacher to fix it." you say with a confused tone of voice, and vernon laughs to himself, trying to hide it.

that was very true—the school, being critically understaffed and underfunded (double wham), had a small circle of people who were assigned to do different things. mingyu, the gym teacher, was also the last-minute technician at the school.

"mingyu can't fix anything most of the time, let alone a fucking printer. i don't know why we still let him try to repair things." vernon laughs, and you shake your head, shrugging.

"i don't know, i think it's chivalrous for him to try to fix something, even if he doesn't know how to do it. it's cute, seeing him struggle sometimes." you smile down at your food, and vernon's smile fades just slightly, your words cutting like silly scissors.

vernon wasn't one for fixing things—he'd try to, sure, but as soon as he knew there was no use trying, vernon would stop.

mingyu, on the other hand, wasn't a quitter. he'd do what he did without fail, and whether it worked or not, he'd give it his best. and mingyu was cute while struggling to try to fix things? vernon might as well die, then.

who knew that vernon would ever want to switch places with mingyu? he'd do anything to have you talk about him like that.

"hey, i can fix your printer." before vernon is thinking, vernon is speaking, and he and all of his coworkers know how that ends.

you're staring at him with surprise in your soft, doe-like eyes, and god, vernon feels like he's melting on the spot. you're leaning in just slightly, fork in mid-stab as you eye vernon down. "you can?"

vernon knows he can't fix anything, let alone a whole printer, but with you staring at him like that, how can he say no?

"of course i can." vernon runs with the lie, shrugging nonchalantly and glancing down at his watch to quickly regain his composure.

"let me work on it after school. i'll stay late if you stay late." vernon feels a surge of confidence rush through him, and you smile, raising a playful eyebrow as you smirk at him.

"are you asking me on a date, chwe?" you say teasingly, and vernon's lithe lips part to reveal the prettiest smile you think you've ever seen.

"if you want to call fixing the school's rickety-ass printer after school hours a date, then yeah," vernon says with another shrug, and you nod, smiling as the bell rings, signifying the end of lunch. the two of you stand up, sounds of children filling the room loudly as you mouth: "it's a date."

[meredithmcclaren]

CRUMBLE is out February 25th!

(I'll keep baking until then.)

Written by me, drawn by the lovely @andyharvest, and published by Little Brown Young Readers.

[weepingnectar]

mc holding on to her last thread of patience

I love them, they're so silly

[getouyuri]

every single song is about you!

pairing — gojo x reader x geto, poly satosugu x reader

summary — SPECIAL GRADE, a band consisting of four powerhouses, takes the world by storm. after geto quits, you, gojo and geto’s childhood friend, take his place— and their hearts.

content & warnings — sfw, suggestive at the end, m4a, gender neutral reader, gn!reader, angst, pining, normal modern au, band au (aka the SPECIAL GRADE au), frontman!gojo, rhythmist!reader, producer!geto, alcohol, cigarettes, eventual poly / eventual polyamorous relationship

author's note — thought about mari’s ask while I pondered this (this is your fault 🫵🏽🫵🏽 I heart you) but producer!geto x rhythmist!reader x frontman!gojo is on the mind. quick drabble to get this out of my headddd but i lowkey wanna write a long fic about this. this was proof read only Once so I hope there’s no mistakes 😭🙏🏽. full masterlist here.

writing © getouyuri. fanart © satosugu572. dividers © bernardsbendystraws. wc: 3k.

‘gojo and geto,’ two halves of the whole of SPECIAL GRADE.

there’s their killer bassist of course, yuki gold and glistening like the sun in the rearview mirror, adored by all but especially by the girls who love girls. she’s praised endlessly for her occasional bass solos that are as rare as they come and her background vocals that make gojo’s shine that much brighter. their drummer, sukuna, is in his own tier, heavy and loud, weighty boots announcing his presence if that cackle of his doesn’t broadcast it first. fawned over by the girls and guys who like ‘em mean, he beats his drums black and blue, all rough and tough and untouchable.

but it was always ‘gojo and geto’ in interviews following their big break. the two who started it all in geto’s garage with a rat trap in the corner, a worn-down karaoke machine that gojo wielded the plastic microphone of, garageband at geto’s fingertips and guitars in both of the boys’ hands. they could laugh it off as much as they wanted to, seamlessly interject that they’re four, not just two, yuki and sukuna deserving recognition as much as they do, but even the other band members credit everything to them and wait their turn for questions.

‘gojo and geto,’ the indomitable duo. calm and chaos that go hand in hand.

but before gojo and geto, it was always geto and gojo and you.

you, with your bright smile and encouraging words that pushed them to greater heights. you, who tried and failed to make sure gojo’s ego didn’t get too big for his britches (and giggled whenever gojo peacocked around, singing that he’d wave at you from the TV screen some day) and reasoned that geto’s reserved and calm nature could be harnessed for not just peacemaking, but glueing together a group of musicians and standing as a vision of dark, untouchable beauty that his future groupies would chomp at the bits for for years to come.

you, who laughed with geto and gojo, busted them out of trouble and shopped with them and tagged along to study at their sides over candy and soda, who carved your name into a tree in your neighborhood alongside theirs.

you, who buried yourself in high school and college textbooks as the boys threw themselves into making music with yuki and sukuna, becoming smaller and more distant but promising you’d always be there when it mattered. when they needed home and not a crowded venue.

geto thinks of you a month into his departure from SPECIAL GRADE. the internet was still in tears over the quote unquote breakup. everyone zoomed in on the grainy photos of geto’s smoothened brow and gojo’s twisted, hurt frown outside of the KFC they fought in front of, trying to read lips and find an explanation that wasn’t geto’s plain tweet of ‘i’m tired of it. i’m tired of it all.’

as if cutting out his piece of the pie from the whole of it would have a grander, more explosive reason than just… exhaustion. a healthy dose of paranoia and a bone-deep want to find himself outside of the glaring spotlight.

the industry and their record label fought to mold SPECIAL GRADE into something generic. a product to drain dry, pluck off the shelf and sell, exploit until there was nothing left. geto couldn’t take it— he wanted to make music from the heart, not because of some corporate bottom line. even worse, the attention from the media and fans made him feel like a mouse in the spotlight of a thousand cats’ eyes. the pressure closed in on him, fangs to his throat, until he squealed.

geto tried to drown it out, convince himself that everything else was just noise, but he knew he had to make a hard decision. to leave for his own sanity— so he did. breathing comes easier now that he’s sitting in his own corner out of the way without the shackles that used to tie him down.

geto texts you while drunk, eyes growing hot over your simple ‘u okay?’ instead of a ‘are u guys okay?’, your follow up of ‘ur still the greatest. don’t listen to anybody else but urself and everyone that cares for u. i’ve got ur back.’

gojo thinks of you, too, not even an hour after geto does— as if their brains are linked.

gojo still doesn’t get why geto walked off. like, he does, because even he gets fed up with all of it. but he pushes through it and ignores what people expect from him and the other members of SPECIAL GRADE.

music is a form of self-expression, an outlet to let oneself go and bare one’s soul through lyrics to the beat of the accompanying piece. a way to connect with others on a level deeper and more complex than the anatomy of a singular cell. the energy of the crowd that screams their songs back to them, the high of playing with the three people he considers his family, it’s all gojo’s ever wanted. everything is at his fingertips when he grabs his mic and presses his palm to the throat of the world in warning, reminding it that this? this is all his. he could never give it up.

music has always been their thing. geto’s and gojo’s, gojo’s and geto’s. watching his partner leave him felt akin to someone clawing gojo’s kidney out with their bare hands.

yuki’s been pushy in that caring way of hers and sukuna just grinds his jaw and stares him down, saying more with his eyes than that fiery mouth of his. their record label and manager demands he fix what gojo swears he didn’t break, his fans tweet at him constantly and chase him down in public for answers, the media is up his ass… but you’re not.

you’re patient and kind when he knocks on your door, feeling small on your doorstep without another shoulder brushing his and deep purple eyes flickering over at him as the boys share twin smiles. you let gojo in. you make him tea and set his head straight. you call them both idiots and gojo finally smiles.

“i’d die without you. really,” gojo tells you earnestly, fully convinced that it’s true.

you laugh it off. “you wouldn’t. now shut up and let me help you compose a text to geto,” you say, making grabby hands at him.

you’ve always been the one that glues the three together. you’re indispensable. a priceless treasure without a tag.

you were never one for stardom. you were content to follow your own path that lingered in the shadows. but a year after geto shakes off his woes and discards his cigarettes and bottles and becomes a producer, you visit his home studio with half-finished tracks downloaded onto your phone.

“can you help me out?” you ask from your spot on geto’s doorstep, scratching the back of your neck. “i know you’re super picky with your clientele and you’re probably gonna think this is ass— oh my god, wait, I didn’t even schedule an appointment with you—“

geto raises a hand and you quiet down. “come in,” he invites with a smile.

he helps you beat your songs into shape and properly walks you through music theory for months. you mess with his old rhythm guitar, the one he played in his parents’ garage until the neighbors would shout at him and gojo for the racket, and he finds you’re not half bad at thumbing the strings and learning rhythm guitar licks. so he opens up the glass case on the wall of his studio and hands you uzumaki— a beautiful, dark blue guitar with lazy swirls drawn into it— and lets you make magic.

you blow geto’s mind. and your debut single, produced by no one other than himself, blows up the internet.

it’s a little unusual for a newly fledged popstar like yourself to eventually go from manning the stage on your own to joining a goliath of a pop rock band, but it’s you. you’ve always been unpredictable, even if you hid it behind years of being a steady presence in geto and gojo’s lives. you hop in the deep end with SPECIAL GRADE, taking geto’s former spot that multiple contenders dipped in and out of because gojo, yuki, and sukuna could never find someone as good as geto.

you mesh with the band in a crazy way. you play rhythm guitar with the energy of a musical savant, graceful fingers darting up and down the fretboard like the devil itself is sitting in on your performance and you have something to prove. you press your back to gojo’s as he sings with the voice of an angel and brings entire stadiums to their knees, provide chord progressions and harmonic supports and rhythm that intertwines with yuki’s bassline, perfectly follow the beat and tempo that sukuna paves for you with his drumsticks.

it’s like you were meant to be part of SPECIAL GRADE.

the band seems so much brighter with you now in it. especially gojo himself— he turns into the summer sun incarnate when you smile at him and teasingly flutter your lashes mid-interview or during shows that are broadcasted to millions. people talk about their chemistry on and off stage as much as they did geto’s and gojo’s when geto was still in the limelight.

geto doesn’t necessarily feel left behind, per say, but he feels something akin to it watching you and gojo playfully squabble in the live room of geto’s home studio while geto sits at his soundboard in the control room. you bounce off of each other perfectly, complimenting one another like red and blue and shading in the spaces that the other doesn’t fill with different ideas for this song and that song, x and y. yuki beams, feeding off of yours and gojo’s energy as she tunes her bass, and sukuna hides a half smirk, half genuine grin when he barks at you to hush up and get to playing.

is this how you felt when you pursued your degree and watched geto and gojo’s backs get smaller and smaller as they ran off into the sunset, searching for their place in the world with gojo’s guitar on his hip and geto’s slung over his shoulder as their story unfurled? geto isn’t sure, so he sits back at SPECIAL GRADE’s third album release party with a red solo cup in hand, purple eyes trained on you and gojo as he tries to unravel what must’ve been on your mind all those years ago.

it plagues him. eats at him like maggots to a corpse.

one night, geto dreams of performing again.

he misses playing with the band, with gojo and off of gojo’s boundless energy, matching that mad genius stride for stride, even though geto’s never regretted taking a step back. they stand shoulder to shoulder before a sea of nothingness that drops off the stage, the frontman with his rhythmist and backup singer. the indomitable duo. uzumaki is warm and familiar beneath his fingertips as geto breathes life into the strings until they’re vibrating with kinetic energy. behind them, yuki wields her bass like a weapon. sukuna’s arms flex as he slams away at his drums.

inexplicably, you’re there too even though you joined long after geto exited stage left.

your rhythm guitar is no uzumaki. it’s beautiful and sleek but chaotic— frantic paint streaks racing along and around it, twisting and coiling. the color of it shines brightly. you take geto’s other side, sandwiching him between you and gojo, who happily hoots before throwing himself back into singing the lyrics that boom through the empty stadium.

it’s perfect.

geto’s left breathing heavily in the wake of the dream after waking up with a start, smiling stupidly in the dark and holding his heaving chest. his heart thrums beneath his palm.

that feeling that he felt before in the control room morphs into something else, a caterpillar formerly cocooned emerging as a butterfly, when he cracks on the last night of SPECIAL GRADE’s tour. the band spent the whole summer overseas, bouncing from city to city and performing with everything they’ve got— geto heard all the funny anecdotes and shit while on call with gojo, you chiming in from time to time in the background.

but he hadn’t actually seen concert clips until tonight— a quiet, lonely night that he spent on his couch answering emails on his laptop until he got bored and opened twitter. an app he never really checks unless he needs to retweet promotions that the many artists he produces music for post.

he hits the trending tab, fingers stalling when he sees rows upon rows of similar results that are up in flames. you and gojo. you. gojo. SPECIAL GRADE. #1 on the trending page is a quote: ‘i’m sorry, every single song is about you.’ when geto checks out the tag, briefly avoiding videos in favor of staring in befuddlement at all the fans tweeting out the quote like rabid dogs, he sees it. a name.

geto. geto suguru. suguru.

suguru.

suguru.

suguru.

he’s so distracted by his name that he doesn’t register the all-caps tweets saying ‘OH MY GOD THEY’RE DOING IT AGAINNNBTKAHRKSJQ’

(little does he know, you and gojo do this every show.)

heart in his throat, geto finally checks out the first video in the tag. it’s perfect quality, shot up close and personal from the VIP section. he can practically smell the sweat lathered on gojo’s face and neck and collarbones that makes him glisten beneath the wild lights, feel the raggedy gasps that puff out from your lips that are quirked up in a brilliant grin as if you’re breathing into geto’s neck. yuki’s waving at fans and blowing kisses to them. sukuna’s in the background spinning his drumsticks, keyed up and waiting for the next song. they all look perfect.

for some reason, though, yuki’s disassembling the formation, backing up until she’s near sukuna and leaving you and gojo center stage. that makes geto sit up a little straighter.

gojo turns as if searching for someone. his magnetic blue eyes land on the phone camera in the hands of the fan, and he’s laughing as he strides forward with a crooked finger before swiping up the phone with a promise to give it back. he holds it up high above his head as if readying himself for a selfie and ushers you into the frame. gojo squishes your sweaty cheek against his and holds the microphone between them.

yours and gojo’s voices paired together are devastatingly clear and rife with longing. “i’m sorry, every single song is about you.”

the responding roar of the fans nearly blows out his eardrums. they kick off their next song with that earth shattering bang as gojo relocates the fan and hands them their phone.

geto immediately knows what they’re talking about. who they’re talking about. and he spirals.

what songs are about geto?

all the ones that SPECIAL GRADE released after you joined them?

the ones released following geto leaving SPECIAL GRADE when it was just gojo, yuki, sukuna, and some unnamed rhythmist?

the first song that he and gojo ever constructed in geto’s garage, when gojo penned the lyrics with a hopelessly sweet smile on his face? “i guess you could call it a love song,” gojo mused at the time while tapping the eraser of his pencil against a stray piece of paper, blue eyes alight with something profound.

does geto have to go through their entire discography again and read further into the lyrics, seeking out which ones could be a call to him? yeah, yeah he will. geto’s already opening spotify, hitting the first SPECIAL GRADE song that pops up and reading the lyrics as gojo’s voice fills his living room.

fuck, did geto unknowingly produce any songs that you or gojo wrote about him?

geto doesn’t know.

he calls you. it goes to voicemail. he hangs up before he can hear the obnoxious beep that signals his time to speak. he hovers over gojo’s contact but doesn’t press it.

geto ends up leaving a few voicemails for you and for gojo respectively after a few drinks because he needs to get borderline shitfaced before he can speak his truth, desperate and shaky but gentle. reverent.

wine is good, he thinks as he drinks more of it. wine will make geto forget.

not that you let him. geto jolts awake at dawn to banging on his door, picks himself up from where he was curled up like a cat in his cool, lonely silk sheets, and stumbles to go answer it.

you and gojo are bright and alive on the other side of it. “took you long enough,” gojo sighs as if he’s been waiting for this, sweeping in with the self-importance of a storm that you can’t avoid, kicking his shoes off and carelessly tossing his jacket aside. an arm slings around geto’s shoulder, warm and welcoming, a sweet kiss pressed to his cheek.

you’re immediately at geto’s front, binding the three together with a hand on geto’s waist and your other arm atop gojo’s. “hush,” you click your tongue at gojo, but your eyes are full of adoration as you gaze at the grinning frontman. that adoration doesn’t leave as your gaze tilts up to meet geto’s star struck one. “it’s okay, though. we would’ve waited forever for you.”

“yeah. we would’ve,” gojo agrees. fully sincere.

eventually someone, and geto doesn’t remember who (maybe it was him. maybe it was you or gojo), murmurs, “we need to make up for all that lost time, though, don’t you think?”

“how many songs are actually about me? surely not all of them,” geto finds it in himself to say a few hours after he was pinned against his mattress, his hidden-away insecurities plucked apart by yours and gojo’s fingers. they replanted love deep into his marrow.

gojo, in all his naked, cat-like glory, is heavy atop geto’s prone form, snuggling into him. you’re glued to geto’s side, using his forearm as a pillow, one hand ghosting along gojo’s bare back and making his fine white hairs raise and the other tracing hearts into the centers of the hickeys dotted on geto’s skin like notes on sheet music.

you and gojo share a look. “all of them.”

author’s note: who up feeling insane (meeee)

tags: @libr4sonsa @spirit-kat @kaitospo @m1nrrva @enchantinghonymoon @exc3llentshot @dairyfaerie

i love u stsg poly i love u band aus. ARGH

how i felt writing this nonsense in less than 2 hours:

[dokushoclub]

hi!! do you have by any chance any collection of japanese short stories, or just any japanese short story, to recommend? (children literature is also welcome!)

Thanks for the ask! My favourite short story collection in simple Japanese is definitely the series どんどん読める！日本語ショートストリーズ by the publisher アルク.

There are three books in this series and it's the only Japanese short stories collection for learners of which I liked both the stories and the overall structure of the book. As you can see in the sample below, every kanji is accompanied by furigana, making it easier to read, and there are annotations for vocabulary above N3 and idioms.

I've added affiliate links to Amazon Japan, but you can also get these books through other shipping services like CDJapan or most shops that also sell Japanese textbooks.

[minimalist-language-learning]

March roundup - Russian

And as promised in my last post, here's my Russian roundup of March!

(Anki) Russian starter deck (this one)

By now, I reviewed every card at least once! This deck is a good start. Each card presents a sentence which changes every day (so that you learn the words and not memorize the sentence). If you click on a word, you can check its definition. Plus, some cards contain grammar explanations. However, I noticed that some sentences are confusing. Sometimes because of the lack of context and sometimes because they contain difficult phrases. Even after checking the individual words and the translation of some phrases, it didn’t make sense to me. In cases like this all you can do is to memorize what this combination of words means. Anyways, I'll continue reviewing this deck.

(Anki) ru15k (this one)

I suspended all cards except for the first 1k cards to focus on them first. I'm currently reviewing 10 new cards per day. Maybe a bit low, but my main focus is reading. That's why I try to keep my daily Anki time below 30 minutes. To me, this deck is only a supplement.

(YouTube) Comprehensible Russian: Zero Beginner

I watched almost all videos from this playlist! I skipped a few videos because sometimes the audio quality is not good or the video was originally a private lesson where you hear the learner in the background (they sometimes talk in English in these videos). Sometimes she uses words I don't know yet but, overall, I can understand these videos well.

(YouTube) Comprehensible Russian: Beginner 1

I'll stay with this YouTube channel and continue with the Beginner 1 playlist. I watched 4 videos so far. They are pretty similar to the ones from the Zero Beginner playlist but the topics are a bit more complex.

Short Stories in Russian for Beginners by Olly Richards

I finished all short stories from this book! Since I started from zero I had to look up almost every word in the beginning which was hard, but I learned a lot along the way. The stories were not as exciting like a bestseller for example but there was always an interesting plot twist. They introduce many common words and repeat them regularly in their stories, which helps to get used to them. By looking up every unknown word I noticed a few small errors in the text (e.g. sometimes a wrong letter was used so when I put this word in an online dictionary it wasn't possible to find it at first). It’s not a big deal but learners should keep that in mind and be a bit cautious. (I've read the ebook version)

Short Stories in Russian for Intermediate Learners by Olly Richards

This graded reader is aimed at intermediate learners so it’s noticeably more difficult. But it’s still easier than the novel I started which is aimed at native speakers. Like with the other graded reader before, I noticed a few small errors in the text (like a wrong letter or a additional letter for example). It's not a big problem, just be a bit cautious. (I'm reading the ebook version)

Assimil (lesson 11 - 17)

I did one lesson per day in the beginning but I noticed that I had trouble with new words. After 10 lessons, I reviewed some lessons a few more times before going on. After that I decided to listen and read every lesson (at least) twice before moving on, means I listen and read a new lesson on one day and on the next day I review this lesson once more. I move on as soon as I can understand the dialogue without checking the meaning of words.

Две встречи в Париже

This book contains two stories. The first one is Медовый месяц в Париже and I finished the first chapter! This is my personal highlight from this month. I chose this book as my first novel in Russian because it contains two rather short stories. This makes it less daunting and overwhelming. I also bought the audio book. I read around one page per day. The story is interesting so far. I'm curious how it will continue.

Reading novels is very difficult at my level of course. Compared to the graded readers the used language is more complex. So I need to look up a lot of words. It's difficult but I take my time. Reading a real novel feels great and is a strong motivation!

Fit in 30 Tagen Russisch (textbook)

I bought this textbook years ago but after a few lessons I felt overwhelmed because in every lesson they introduce many new words and phrases at once and the grammar explanations were too complicated and dry. To me, textbooks like these are not very beginner friendly. (Assimil does a much better job in my opinion.) But since I bought this book I also want to use it in some way, so now I started to read the dialogues and listen to the audio. I treat it like graded readers and not like a textbook. I only use this book as additional (level appropriate) reading material.

Euronews article

News articles are very difficult at my level but I wanted to read another one because I was very interested in the topic. I looked up lots of difficult words but I also gained interesting information.

(YouTube) In Russian From Afar - Beginner Videos A1

Originally, I wanted to start with "Russian with Max" at this point but then I came across this channel and changed my plan. I like his videos for beginners more. I'll switch to "Russian with Max" when I can understand more. The videos I watched so far have Russian subtitles. I try to understand as much as I can from the video itself but if in doubt I check the subtitles.

Animal Crossing

I also started to play Animal Crossing in Russian! I loved playing AC in Japanese so I wanted to play it in Russian, too. It's surprisingly difficult for beginners. I need to look up much more words than I thought. When I played it in Japanese, my initial level was much higher so it was pretty easy to understand. That's why I was a bit surprised. XD But I think the beginning is the most difficult part of the game because they explain a lot. Later you have more freedom and it gets more relaxing. It's not easy at my level but I enjoy it a lot.

This game is great in my opinion because you can learn many words from context. Plus, by interacting with different objects and characters you'll get familiar with these words in a meaningful way. Like in my case, I quickly learned the words пала́тка (tent) and о́стров (island) because the first task in the game is to find a nice place to live on a untouched island. Once you get absorbed in a game (or book) you'll easily learn words that are important for the story or to fulfill a task in the game.

If you want to read something above your level, I recommend to use your smartphone and the Google Translate app to scan the text from the game (or book). As soon as the text is digitalized its much easier to look up words. I look up each unknown word and try to understand the sentence as best as I can. I save these texts from the game for later review. In most cases I ignore the translation from Google Translate, because I won't learn anything from relying on this translation. I learn the most if I look up unknown words and make an effort to understand the sentence myself. Only if I really can't make sense of a sentence I look at the translation for clarification.

[katsukistofu]

i a-door you

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x fem reader. fluff. cursing. food. minor unintentional violence. ⭑ bakugo hits on you. literally.

You’re minding your business, book bag slung across your shoulder, and about to walk through the door to 2A’s classroom when something smacks you in the face.

Not only unprompted, but hard.

“Ow!”

It happens so quickly that you don’t remember squeezing your eyes shut as you stumble backwards, both hands flying to clutch your forehead.

Opening your eyes, you swear you can already feel the spot starting to bruise. The previously closed door to the classroom stood ajar and as the cherry on top of the concussion you just received, someone roughly brushes past you.

Fucking asshole.

You whip around, head still throbbing, about to give whoever it is a peace of your mind and finally speak above an inside voice for the first time since a robot almost fell on you during entrance exams semesters ago, when your teary eyes are met with crimson red ones.

He turns his head to give you a once over and your body freezes as his eyes linger a little longer on the darkening mark where the door got you. Something similar to amusement tugs at his lips.

“Pretty cute.”

You blink, dumbfounded as he casually turns on his heel to walk away.

What. The hell.

Did you literally just get hit on by Bakugo freaking Katsuki.

The identical dropped jaws of your classmates that were visible from inside the open doorway confirmed that what just happened was not in fact a post-traumatic induced hallucination, with Midoriya looking the most gobsmacked, his eyes almost comically bulging out of his skull, and upon glancing at Mina, who quickly gets over her initial shock to grin and shoot you a double thumbs up, she excitedly mouths ‘i told you so,’  and you’re not sure whether to laugh or to cry.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀:¨ ·.· ¨: ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ `· . ꔫ

The next day, you’re sporting a fresh, new bandaid on your forehead. It was quite a fashion statement, if you do say so yourself.

It was also the last one at the nurse’s so you were pretty happy to nab it, apparently being the brand that everyone chose when they too got their respective boo-boos.

The latte Mina and the girls brought back from your favorite cafe sat on the wooden coffee table in the common area, still steaming. You refused to go out with a huge bruise marring your appearance, even with the bandaid covering the most of it, and you would take the fullest advantage of the injured person princess treatment while it lasted.

All while awkwardly avoiding a certain blond.

Now that you’re thinking about it, he’s honestly always been kind of nice to you, in his own weird way.

Like when you were forced to ask if you could borrow his eraser, because apparently no one else in the class carried one. Imagine saving Japan your first year of highschool and only writing in pen, even for calculus. Is this what the future generation has come to?

After breathlessly rushing the words out in a hushed voice and wondering if he heard you at all, Bakugo doesn’t even turn around from where he’s resting his chin on his hand listening to Present Mic’s enthusiastic lecture on subject-verb agreement, as he reaches an arm behind him to drop it on your desk.

You’re not sure if you remembered to say “your” before “eraser,” so all he probably heard was “can I borrow eraser?” and it still haunts you to this day.

Shaking the thoughts of him from your mind, you flip your history textbook open to page three hundred and ninety four, ‘A Comprehensive Timeline of Quirk Generations.’ You’re attempting to study for your next upcoming quiz in Midnight’s class.

Key word: attempting.

A delicious smell was starting to waft your way from the kitchen across the room, and now you were kind of hungry. You could feel your attention waning and shook your head, the image of your most recent report card filled with straight As sobering you up. Food could come later, right now you had to focus.

Just twenty more minutes of review, then I'll eat.

Bakugo’s placing the breakfast he easily finished whipping up on the counter. As he uses a spatula to gently coax the fluffy soufflé pancakes out of the pan, he notices the familiar petals of your favorite flower decorating the ceramic he’s putting them on.

It was from a tableware set he picked out when everyone first moved into the dorms. Glasses had assigned everyone groceries among various other things to go shopping for in small groups, and he was paired up with Ponytail to go buy plates.

They were browsing the shelves of a local Daiso store filled with colorful, adorably decorated dishes and rice bowls, when he stopped in front of a price tag, eyes dragging up to study the item it belonged to. The details on it were intricate, and breathtakingly so.

It reminded him of how he felt whenever he looked at you.

Ponytail follows his gaze, and her own eyes brighten.

“Oh, it’s decorated with the favorite flower of–!”

“I know.” He cuts her off, glaring at the floral box set of bowls and plates, before carefully putting it in their cart.

Momo’s eyes widen a bit, before a small, knowing smile spreads across her lips and Bakugo curses at her perceptiveness.

He almost wished he was paired up with that icy-hot bastard instead, who was so oblivious that if you dangled a confession letter in front of him he would have thought you wanted him to proofread it for you.

That was a while ago now, and everyone’s been happily eating meals on the plates they bought ever since.

He tops off the pancakes with a handful of fresh berries and a drizzle of honey, and slides it next to a steaming plate of a kimchi omelette with a zigzag of sriracha sauce already on the counter.

From where he stands, he snorts at your bandaid, noticing the obnoxious amount of Hello Kitty’s plastered all around it. Out of all the bandaids from Recovery Girl’s collection that she kept in her office, of course you would pick the cutest fucking one.

It was undoubtedly something you would like, he thinks, begrudging in his fondness. It was so you.

“Get your ass over here.”

You jump in your spot on the couch at the loud volume of his voice, though it sounded a bit softer than usual. With a finger pointing to yourself, you raise your head in confusion. “Me….?”

Was this about yesterday? Oh my god, was he mad?

You’re not sure why he would be, since he’s not the one that got bitch-slapped in the face by a giant door.

“I don't see anyone else I'd be talking to.” Bakugo scoffs.

He's right, to your increasing dread. The entire common area is completely empty, and you have no choice but to comply with his request.

You’re still nervously fiddling with the edge of your hoodie sleeve, the usual comfort of its softness abandoning you as you approach the kitchen to find him standing at a seat near the counter, arms folded. It hasn’t even been a minute in the same proximity as him and his presence is kind of overwhelming you already.

You’re trying so hard not to stare at his biceps. And just him in general.

“Sit.” he commands, the sound of the metal stool echoing against his hand as he pats it.

You obediently sit down, cursing your lack of a backbone. But his tone didn’t sound like he was planning to take no for an answer, anyway.

“Eat.”

He jabs a thumb at the plate of warm, sweet smelling cloud-like goodness in front of you. You stare at him, wide-eyed.

“This is for me?”

“Huh. You’re slower than I thought you were.” He rolls his eyes and starts to dig into his own plate of omelette in front of him, taking a seat on the stool across from you. It looked good too, as expected. “You’re welcome or whatever.”

With his aggressive blessing and after throwing a quiet but extremely grateful ���thank you for the meal’ his way, you start to eat.

Your face lights up in joy as the divine taste of spongy goodness and honey spreads across your tongue, and you silently praise his mom for giving birth to the next Gordon Ramsay.

He flicks your forehead as you’re mid-bite in pancake and you yelp in surprise, raising your head to glare at his handsome face. What now? And did he have to be as infuriating as he was good-looking?

That crimson gaze once again stares you down, barely contained amusement dancing in embers of the hot coals of his eyes, and your skin grows warm as you realize you said that last part out loud.

You’re about to give into the urge to run away and take the plate of half-finished pancakes with you when he gruffly speaks up.

“You can’t retain information unless you have something in your stomach, idiot.”

You nod, mouth full, and make a mental note to study on an empty tummy away from him in the future. It’s like he reads your mind because you wince as he scowls, flicking your head again, although a little more gently this time.

Taking care to do it in a spot away from the bandaid covering the injury that he caused, your brain points out.

The both of you continue to eat in comfortable silence.

After a while, your plates are nearly clean.

You smile a little, realizing that you were eating on your favorite plate in the dorm’s kitchen the whole time, and admire the petals of your beloved flowers delicately painted in the center and outer edges of the stark white dish, with the pancakes no longer covering them.

Bakugo notices this, as you softly begin to trace the rim with your finger, and fights the twitch of his lips that threatened to curl upwards.

He’s also noticed those little glances you think you’ve been discreetly throwing his way between the bites of pancake, which you nearly inhaled to his pride.

You could almost be as quiet as that rock-faced animal whisperer of a classmate you both had, but you’ve always sucked at being subtle.

Good thing he hates subtle things.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks as you start to slide off the tall stool, a hint of smirk in his voice. It was cute, how you think you could run away from him so easily. You stop in your tracks, blinking at him as he rises from his own seat.

Strong, toned arms that you totally haven’t been staring at for the past half hour are slowly placed on both sides of you, caging you against the counter. An embarrassing noise escapes from your lips, and the cold granite bites into your back as you lean away, doing anything to avoid his gaze.

“Look at me.”

He rolls his eyes as you continue to look to the side, suddenly finding the chibi magnets of various high ranking heroes on the fridge to be very interesting.

“I said,” he grabs your chin in his hand, which was so big compared to your face that he could squish your cheeks between his ring finger and thumb, “look at me.

You huff, now forcefully held in place to face him against your will. “I’m looking.”

“Good.”

He leans down and his lips graze your ear, seeming to take great pleasure in only further adding to your embarrassment when he mutters:

“And don’t stand so fucking close to the door next time.”

not bakugo pulling the classic asian parent move and giving u food instead of a proper apology LOLL

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Ok, hear me out, Machine Herald Viktor x Reader AU with this line from Epic,,

Jayce: After everything you've done... how will you sleep at night?

Viktor: Next to my wife.

[5mary5]

HUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHH?!

OOÒOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSJDNSKXNDKDN

[look-over-yonder]

Thinking about where the Amphoreus cast would take you on a date in a modern universe.

Phainon takes you out to the movies. Don't worry about buying expensive cinema food—he's taking you out to the food court to get snacks first. What? You're worried about getting caught? Don't worry. He's already invented several different odd ways to sneak food in, but they work. Now your next problem is how much he might talk during movies.

Mydei takes you out to a diner. Nutrition is important after all, and he wants to take you somewhere where he knows you're eating well. Not to mention; this particular diner has an all-you-can-eat buffet. That’s absolutely not the reason why he chose this place, of course. Dates with Mydei are more on the casual side, even if he is a romantic at heart—but maybe he'll let you feed him if you ask.

Anaxa takes you out to a café. Surprising? It might be. But he's not just taking you to just any cafe. It's his favourite café—one of his favourite places to be other than alone. The café is quaint and cosy, noticeably quiet with faint music playing in the backdrop, and they serve delicious coffee. You see why he likes it so much, and you hope this place continues to stay a hidden gem between the two of you.

Aglaea takes you out to dinner. Yes, I say dinner, because this woman will take you out to the most luxurious fine-dining establishment money can buy. Aglaea always goes all out on dates because she's a busy woman. If she's pursuing you, you best believe she sees you as worth investing in. If she goes on more dates with you, things might get more casual, and she'll instead have dinner with you at her mansion. No biggie.

Hyacine takes you out on a picnic. She brings an assortment of foods, sometimes even confectioneries baked by herself or brought because she knew you liked them. You two sit together on your little picnic blanket over some grassland, and after digesting, end up lying side-by-side to watch the sky above. I hope you're imaginative, because she'll compare the clouds to some wild things.

Castorice takes you out to the library. While it may not seem as exciting as the rest, quiet intimacy can go a long way. You two sit side-by-side at a desk, reading the same book, shoulders bumping against each other on occasion. It's comfortable. Vulnerable, and her whisper of a voice breaks the silence sometimes to share some insight on the book you're reading together. But at some point? You get too distracted by her side profile.

Cipher takes you to all her favourite spots. She knows the city like the back of her hand and happens to know where the best places are to get away from society. From rooftops to abandoned buildings, she even shows you her secret little base she flees to whenever she has to lay low for a while. As your legs dangle together precariously off the edge of a building, she wraps her tail around your arm, leaning her head against your shoulder.