If you’ve heard the news, Episode 8 is the last episode in which Tanaka Kazunari played Ukai Keishin. I’m so glad he got to say this line and went out with a big flourish. Thank you for your amazing voice, and may you rest in peace.
Ch 236 has made me so so proud of how far Hinata has come??? (which is business as usual i know shut up)
but like, the game starts off and everyone is all “haha why is that tiny kid a middle blocker–”
oh shit son were you watching? did u see that!? that’s why
Now, Tsukibahara is f l u s t e r e d over this fluffy gremlin. Coach gives ‘em a pep talk like “y’all, just focus on the game as a whole” so they’re like ok ok we got this, #10 is rotated to the back now phew so they’re feeling all:
Has this been commented on yet? There was one line in the subs for Yuri on Ice Episode 9 that I might have translated differently.
The subs say: Please be my coach until I retire.
The Japanese is: 引退まで、僕のことお願いします! / Intai made, boku no koto onegaishimasu!
Yuuri doesn’t use the word “coach” and instead uses that very general “boku no koto.” Which is like “me and all of the things relating to me.”
Personally, I would have translated it as “Until I retire… Please take care of me!” which keeps some of that ambiguity from the Japanese. And really does sound a lot like a proposal!
Also, and this is just my impression which native speakers might disagree with, but I feel like the tone of voice Yuuri uses with “onegaishimasu” might even take it closer to “I’m entrusting (myself) to you” than “please take care of (me).”
Just in my daily life, usually when I hear “onegaishimasu” with that kind of falling intonation it feels more like an assertion than a request. (Although maybe that’s just me! Would love to hear other people’s thoughts.)
Langblr moment: when you’re at a museum/monument and they have brochures in like ten different languages and you know at least two or three of them and it’s like choosing an ice cream flavor or maybe kind of like the voice where you gotta pick which singer is gonna be your coach
This is a lesson I have had to learn many times throughout my work with the gods. My gods are not soft gods, frolicking gods, the type that see you and giggle coyly.
My gods are made of harder stuff. Stone on which to write the runes. Roots as deep as Niflheim. The rage of battle. Dirt-on-peet-whiskey.
But that does not mean that my gods are cruel. They do not see me in pain and delight in it. I sometimes forget. That is… I shout over their voices with my own.
When I find myself in emotional turmoil (which has happened a lot recently), I expect them to be the high school football coach in movies. Come on, get a hold of yourself! You’re better than this. Nobody has time for your touchy-feely crying sessions.
When this happened a year ago, they turned to a friend. They gave my friend dreams in the hopes that the story would remind me to let them carry me when I need someone else to take on the weight. Sure, my gods are made of stone and roots and rage and spirits… but they are also made of comfort and the hearthstone and hospitality and companionship.
This time, they went to someone much closer to home, someone I wasn’t sure I could turn to for these problems. But I got a call from my mother, who assured me of the things I needed to hear. I know that though my mom meant the words she said, Someone Else did too.
Another not-fluffy one. Warning for homophobia. Read on AO3.
“Bittle, on the ice.”
Bitty hopped over the wall and right into a play. The other players
towered over him, zooming past him as he spun and dodged. He couldn’t tell his
own teammates from the opposition. Where was the puck?
nyello im a nb trans boy and i was just wondering if you happened to have any resources for making your voice deeper? sorry if i havent worded this very well
I’ve been trying to find a way to lower my voice too actually because I won’t be able to start T anytime soon, but so far I haven’t found anything that really works for me. Something from here might work for you though:
Speak from your chest rather than your throat. Like, control your vibrations. It’s apparently very easy to do once you get a hang of it (which I never managed to do lol) (video) / (video)
Do exercises to strecth our your vocal cords. (video)
Voice training. (You’ll need a coach for this) (video)
Drink lots of water. Your vocal cords need to be smoothe and relaxed to work at top preformance.
“I feel like when we were coming back this season, I was a little nervous,” the 47-year-old singer admitted. “I was like, 'This is going to be weird!’ But, you know, the show is so real. All it is is us just being there and being us. So, it’s been really fun.”
“Obviously, any time I can be around Blake is a blessing,” she sweetly added.
“I’m coming over” Remus read the message and threw his phone on the coach. It meant that Sirius would be here in about twenty minutes.
He squeezed joint between his lips and opened the chocolate bar. The cramps were annoying but bearable, there was no point for Sirius to come, but Remus was not in the mood for arguing.
He laid on the floor relaxing muscles, inhaling sweetish smoke and dissolving in the twilight of the room. Curtains was closed but he could see morning sun in the gap between them, he heard low humming of the city which made his mind dizzy.
“Moony?” Remus heard Sirius’ worried voice somewhere from the hallway but didn’t bother to answer. Sooner or later Black would find him.
“Oh, here you are” said Sirius with relief and next time he would speak Remus expected to hear pity in his voice. And he hated that. But Sirius just sat down next to him, leaning to the coach. “You are okay here, huh?” he grinned and Remus could not help but smile back.
“As you can see I’m having the best time of my life” he snorted and exhaled the curl of smoke.
Sirius leaned back on his elbows and took joint from Remus’ fingers. “Somehow you always manage to hide this shit from me, you greedy ass”.
“Somehow you always pop up right when I am smoking and steal my weed” he giggled as Sirius squeezed his cold fingers.
“Ouch, it’s sharing!” Sirius pretended he is offended. “We’re friends, Mooney, and friends do share, you know”.
Remus watched his long black hair falling on his forehead, covering his eyes.
“Sure, I know, Pads” whispered Remus and sat up. Of course friends share, they share bed, they share kisses and they share breath, breath Remus was now stealing from Sirius’ lips. Sirius tasted like bitter and smoke and his tongue made Remus shiver.
Sirius pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around Remus’ shoulders, biting his lower lip.
Remus felt stoned, felt like he was loosing the last touch with reality and he didn’t want to think if it was because of weed he smoked or because of Sirius kissing him.
GoM providing words of encouragement to their S/O who's playing in a volleyball match and nothing's going right. Like their serves aren't going over, tosses are off, spikes getting blocked, etc.
Akashi Seijuro: He was good at everything, which just added to your frustration as another toss missed. You rake your fingers through your bangs out of annoyance.
The coach called a time out. Breathing in deeply, you try to calm down as he lectures the team. You are only human, and being human means that you’re prone to irritation when things aren’t going your way.
“________.” Akashi says directly over your head as he leans on the railing. His voice is soothing, cooling your hot blood. “I may not play volleyball, but the team that keeps the ball from hitting the ground wins. And I know you can do that.”
His words somehow simplified the game to a point; it made all the tactics and plays feel insignificant.
You repeat his words to yourself. “Keep the ball from hitting the ground…keep the ball from hitting the ground…that’s it!”
A plan forms in your head and you quickly explain the details to your team members. Although tired and dejected, they nod and agree it could work.
As you walk on to the court with a new spring in your step, you don’t forget to turn around and flash Akashi a smile of gratitude.
Kise Ryouta: You can hear his cheers from the sidelines every time you serve. It was hard to miss his distinct voice. And even though you know he was genuinely trying to motivate you, his cheers started feeling more like jeers as the game started going south.
Sighing, you collapse on to the bench and use a towel to wipe away the sweat on your forehead.
“_______!” He’s calling your name across the court, getting quite a bit of attention from girls as he noticed who he was. “_______, do you love your team?”
Instead of smiling with a carefree look, his eyes are intense and they let you know that he was serious. The words weren’t much, and they didn’t seem very encouraging, but they made you remember why you played. You didn’t play for yourself, or to beat the opponents. You played for the team.
A smile unravels across your face as his words sink in. Yes, you loved your team. And you would do anything to make sure it wins.
Kuroko Tetsuya: Kuroko Tetsuya rarely yelled. Regardless, you knew he was silently watching your game in the stands and cheering in his own way. You smack the ball with the palm of your hand, down on to the other court, only for the ball to be blocked. The point goes to the opponents and the coach calls a time out.
“Take it play by play. Stay calm. And work as a team.” That’s all he says as the team greedily sucks down some water.
You pause, certain that Kuroko was calling to you.
“________-san, up here.” Kuroko is peering over the railing with a neutral face. “The game only ends when you stop fighting. It’s only 0% of victory when you stop fighting.”
You smile at his reassuring words, knowing that they carry a lot of weight. They were the same words he had once said to Aomine. Hope surges within you again as your team runs back on to the court.
Midorima Shintarou: Despite Midorima’s claims to not understand volleyball at all, he seemed to be able to follow the game. That just made you feel worse because he would understand that you weren’t playing well.
“______! You can do this!”
You were almost certain that you were dreaming. Midorima Shintarou didn’t yell, nor did he ever show that he cared in public. You know he did, but you didn’t think he’d cheer for you out loud.
Glancing up at him, you can tell that he’s trying to ignore his red cheeks. But as you connect gazes, his eyes gain warmth and he nods while he slightly smiles.
He had faith in you. And that’s all you needed to know. If he had faith in you, and the team had faith in you, then you could have faith in yourself too. You could do this.
Murasakibara Atsushi: The giant was munching away at his snacks last time you saw him. He probably wasn’t even paying attention to the game. Most days, you would be mad that he wasn’t really watching, but you didn’t want him to see when you weren’t playing well.
“_______-chin better crush the other team!” The almost lackadaisical yell from the tall Murasakibara Atsushi was offset by the bag of chips in his hand, but you knew he meant it nonetheless. He wasn’t the type for yelling, but you could tell that he cared as he brushes crumbs away from his mouth and watches the court below with wide-awake eyes. “Go, _________-chin!”
You breathe out, turning back to the court as you’re handed the ball to serve. Tossing the ball in the air, you jump up and connect your palm with the ball, leaving it to cleanly sail over the court.
Aomine Daiki: “Hey, _____!” The muscular basketball player of a boyfriend is leaning over the side of the stands.
You smile weakly in response, not wanting him to see you when you weren’t at your best. Maybe it was dumb, but since he was so good at basketball, you felt like you had to give it your all as well. But the fact that all of your spikes weren’t scoring points because of the huge blockers made you want to drown in a pit of shame.
He grins, unconcerned. “The strongest team wins, right?” He calls over the railing, making you feel more ashamed. “But the strongest team always works together to find a way to score.”
His last sentence sinks in slowly and makes the sides of your mouth slowly curl up.
“Besides,” He grins cheekily, “you look fantastic in those shorts.”
“Give him a warning,” said the voice through the earpiece I was wearing. I did as instructed, speaking in the emotionless monotone I’d been coached to use. But the student, a sixth grader with some impulsivity issues and whose trust I’d spent months working to gain, was excited and spoke out of turn again. “Tell him he has a detention,” my earpiece commanded. At which point the boy stood up and pointed to the back of the room, where the three classroom “coaches” huddled around a walkie talkie. “Miss: don’t listen to them! You be you. Talk to me! I’m a person! Be a person, Miss. Be you!”