#learn and demonstrate real life skills in game

[paper-mario-wiki]

Shangri-La Frontier mid-season review

This is by far the best fake video game I've ever seen written in fiction.

Most MMO-centric isekai stories have trouble with providing accurate and realistic depictions of the complexities and minutia that give MMOs the allure they have. I've seen so much handwavey bullshit tacked onto fake-games that introduce unrealistically overlooked mechanics for reasons like giving the protag immense power just because they're the protag and the story is about them. A good example of this is another MMO Isekai airing this season, "A Playthrough of a Certain Dude's VRMMO Life", wherein the main character becomes extremely rich, powerful, and famous by episode 2 because he stumbled into a stealth archer playstyle, a build which apparently no human in that universe had ever conceived of before, and then making a fortune by selling basic potions to everyone after NPCs stopped selling them (another thing he was uniquely able to do because not a single other player had the forethought to spec into alchemy). These lesser, dime-a-dozen isekai add up to be boring fantasy strories with gaming elements clumsily put in so that the author can demonstrate how powerful the world's inhabitants are by showing their stat allocation screen instead of, say, explaining anything about what they do that's so uniquely powerful and how they figured it out. Ya know, stuff you'd hope to hear about from any competent story.

Shangri-La Frontier is a breath of fresh air for anyone who, like me, is sick of authors ignoring the things that actually make video games compelling in service of creating a stock-standard narratives in fantasy worlds because it allows them to get away with bullshit. I've always found it very convenient that many isekai narratives indulge in things like chattel slavery, because it's societally normal enough for the protag to purchase a beautiful, vulnerable girl to add to his harem (dont worry, she is always inexplicably in love with him no matter what because he's SUCH a kind master). And it never really seems to go anywhere. Because the Video Game Isekai, while an interesting premise in theory, is more often than not used exclusively as a means to simplify the structure of a world's power scaling to abide by an arbitrary set of omnipresent universal rules (e.g. what people who have never cared to look into game development think of video games). This anime, by comparison, is VERY clearly authored by someone who plays a LOT of games.

Every piece of logic used to drive the plot forward, so far, is congruent to a real-world example of video game conventions, and I'm not just talking about levelling up and selling monster parts. Story elements that I've rarely (if ever) seen explored in other isekai are ever-present and genuinely clever and amusingly introduced. My favorite example of this so far has been the way the protagonist has been able to go head to head with so many overlevelled foes in the first 9 episodes. The story of course makes note of how good of a gamer Sanraku (our hero) is, but much like in real life games, being super duper good at dodging attacks doesn't really make up for a 70 level gap in items and learned skills. For that reason, he gets his ass whooped more often than he actually outsmarts others (so far he hasn't beaten a single player in pvp). So how is he getting out of these situations without dying so frequently? Simple: he got access to a later area too early relative to his level (sequence break) and got access to a high level follower NPC that's been carrying him. This is something he acknowledges directly several times, specifically using words like "Emul has been hard-carrying me for a while." This, to me, is extraordinarily meaningful. That's something you can exploit in Skyrim, man. That's REALISTIC CHEESE STRATS. The excitement and wonder I find in this show doesn't come from watching the protag do something unexpected, but by watching him do something that I would think to do.

This knowledge the author has demonstrated regarding modern gaming culture extends further into the actual realistic nature of game design and community. The story exists in a reality where full-dive VRMMOs are the be-all-end-all of gaming, and given the prohibitively expensive nature of developing and designing expansive, immersive worlds, most games are pretty shit. It's been hinted at so far that this is due to a monopolistic megacorp which is one of the only entities rich and powerful enough to make a good game (the game in question being the one that shares the title of the anime), but so far the strife of the characters have been pretty centralized to the happenings of the game world and its politics. By the way, lets talk about the game world's player base politics, which I'm also quite pleased with. It exists in the form of guilds and clans who struggle for power not by participating in seemingly random pvp with other powerful players to see who is the most epic and badass warrior (again, like many contemporary isekai typically opt for), but by gaining actual realistic support from a fictional playerbase with realistic desires and playstyles. Some guilds are interested in lore, some gather for alliance and boss raids, some for things like animal husbandry, and (naturally) at least one is dedicated to trolling and PKing. Each of these factions, through the very little that we've seen of them so far, communicate on forums and only know as much as is reasonable for them to know. The only reason they give a shit about the protagonist at all is because he gained access to a high-level unique scenario quest that they want information on how to access, and the only reason word of that got out in the first place was because someone posted a screenshot of him with a unique NPC onto a forum, asking about it as "where can i find this pet summon, its super cute!" That's real. That's video games, baby.

I like this show a lot so far. I like that it cares about video games, but I also like its writing. I like the main character and how hes less of an ultra badass super cool guy, and more of an earnest challenge-run lets player. Like, a lot of his dialogue straight up sounds strikingly similar to Japanese youtubers. And he's naturally always quick to point out inconsistencies in the game world's logic. I ALSO really like his community of pals from a janky old fighting game, and I ADORE the girl from his school who has a crush on him and also just so happens to be an exceptionally high level player from a top clan, and how she had to spend 9 episodes working up the courage to send him a friend request. I love that so, so much, dude.

I highly recommend this show if you're into a single thing I've mentioned. The animation is great. The world is beautiful. The character design is immaculate. And I'm looking forward to watching it continue.

[but-a-humble-goon]

It feels so fucking weird that Rockstar of all studios somehow created one of the most subversive and well written female supporting characters in gaming's recent years.

Sadie's introduced, shall we say, exactly as you'd expect a woman to in these kinds of stories. She's a damsel in distress, horrifically victimized by a gang of violent thugs who the "heroic" Dutch gang demonstrate they are better men than by rescuing and comforting her then being motivated by her suffering into taking action to kill the guys who did this to her. And if that had been the last we'd ever seen of Sadie she would fit right in with so many women in the background of so many westerns.

Instead though, she sticks around for the whole story, learns the gun, eventually becomes one of the most reliably skilled (and unhealthily enthusiastic) killers in the gang and wreaks her own bloody path of vengeance against what's left of the O'Driscolls, mercilessly hunting them to the last man in a fashion so violent even the hardened lifelong criminals are a little taken aback.

Now that's already doing a lot to be subversive but I think the thing that most got me about her story is it avoids becoming straightforwardly a "good person becomes corrupted into a monster by trauma and violence" story. Sadie goes very, VERY dark sure and she even gets the Unforgiven/Shane ending where there's no going back from the killing for her. John Marston gets to go live a mostly peaceful domestic life on a ranch with his family (at least until RDR1 happens) but Sadie decides this is all she has left and becomes a bounty hunter

Despite all that though, Sadie Adler never really stops being a good person. At least good relative to RDR2 where everybody's a criminal and a murderer. She takes charge, saves the whole gang and holds them all together when things are at their worst and even when the chips are down and the gang turns on itself and begins to drown in its own blood she remains one of the real ones. She comes to be one of the last people Arthur can rely on in the world. She consistently protects the others and puts them before herself. She always helps without ever needing to be asked. She never leaves anybody behind.

Something that stands out to me is there's multiple times where she assertively protects the male protagonists. She orders Arthur to stay well behind while she goes in to save Abigail by herself because he's sick and she keeps trying to talk John into going home to be with his family because unlike her he has something to lose.

Basically Sadie Adler is great and I love her. She's so much more textured, nuanced and just plain awesome than we normally get especially in stories of this kind and her story is handled with an honestly shocking amount of sympathy that I have come to really not expect from Rockstar.

[riaschamberofsecrets]

Shifting is a matter of the mind.

Shifting can be likened to the experience of dreaming, where the mind crafts vivid narratives that transport us to far-off places or fantastical realms. Just as dreams allow us to explore alternate realities while we sleep, shifting invites us to consciously navigate different dimensions of existence while awake. This process highlights the incredible power of our imagination, suggesting that our minds can act as portals to experiences beyond our immediate surroundings.

Imagine watching a movie that captivates your attention so fully that you momentarily forget the world around you. The characters, settings, and emotions become so real that you feel as though you are part of the story. In a similar vein, shifting allows individuals to step into a narrative of their choosing, where they can embody different roles or inhabit new worlds. This act of immersion underscores the mind’s ability to blur the line between fiction and reality, drawing parallels to how we engage with various forms of storytelling in our lives.

Consider the way athletes visualize their performance before a game. Many elite competitors employ mental imagery techniques, vividly picturing themselves executing flawless plays. This mental rehearsal enhances their actual performance, demonstrating that the mind is not merely a passive observer but an active participant in shaping reality. Shifting operates on this same principle: by visualizing a desired reality and believing in its possibility, individuals can create a pathway to that experience.

Furthermore, shifting can be compared to the process of learning a new skill. When we embark on a journey to master something, such as playing a musical instrument or learning a new language, our initial attempts may feel clumsy and challenging. However, with practice and persistence, we gradually become more adept. Shifting requires a similar dedication to honing one’s mental focus and belief in the ability to traverse different realities. Just as one must practice to become proficient in a skill, the act of shifting often involves cultivating a mindset that embraces exploration and the unknown.

Additionally, think about how nostalgia can transport us to fond memories of the past. When we reminisce about a cherished moment, we can vividly recall the sights, sounds, and feelings associated with that experience. This emotional connection illustrates how our minds can traverse time and space, allowing us to relive moments that have shaped us. Shifting taps into this same capability, offering a structured way to revisit or create new experiences that resonate deeply within us.

Ultimately, shifting is not merely an escape from reality; it is a profound testament to the capabilities of human consciousness. It encourages individuals to embrace their imagination as a powerful tool for exploration and self-discovery. By recognizing that the mind can shape experiences and realities, we unlock a greater understanding of our potential to redefine existence itself. In this way, shifting invites us to engage with life more fully, reminding us that our thoughts and beliefs hold the key to new possibilities.

[theposhsworld]

Pearl Notes posted on seduction in being playful. I call it being in your spoiled cat 🐈‍⬛ energy. If you follow your joy like a spoiled cat, you seduce the world. Happiness is a scarce commodity so people chase those who follow their joy. Create a beautiful fun world for yourself.

People have tiring jobs and mundane lives. This is why I say being cultured and sophisticated about beautiful things gives you an edge. Gentlemen are suckers for beauty. It’s not enough that you are beautiful but if you introduce them to a beautiful world full of joy that beauty never fades.

Pearl says you have to protect yourself first if you want men to protect you. In the Middle East we still have a patriarchy but if you come from a weak tribe & marry up you have to protect yourself. For hypergamous women, protecting yourself and not trusting people because you are competing for resources is essential.

Pickmeishas think protection can be outsourced. I was requested to write about Ballerina farms which I will get to why you can’t live like that and why women are choosing that foolishness over feminism. I warned ladies that a trad wife isn’t a kept woman. It is a propaganda piece but we can learn from it.

Real life queens are deep in the game of power politics where there are always people trying to take away their power. Even Queen Elizabeth was only a constitutional monarch, there was always a sister, daughter in law challenging her power and giving her a headache. As the sovereign you are the final authority.

In order to radiate joy, you have to put yourself first and have genuine boundaries. Slaves are not attractive. Men want to tame a free bird.

Gentlemen don’t want argumentative wives but they don’t want submissive wives. There is no fun in that. They want a woman who looks up to him and respects his competence where he is competent at. He doesn’t want a woman who submits which maid to hire and the house ends up looking like a mess because he doesn’t know what to look for in a good maid.

To be seductive you have to be like a spoiled pure bred house cat, like in the article I wrote four years ago. Follow your joy and be playful. For example I share my joy of opera and lately Palm Beach fashion and everyone wants to join me and be part of a fun beautiful world, men and women.

Confidently your joy and having fun is the key to seduction. That is why a Pickmeisha can never be a seductress thus never has power. If you try to be a people pleaser you will never radiate inner joy like a seductress. Having a devil may care attitude is essential to seduction. Now Pickmeishas think being a baddie is jumping into the bedroom right away and demonstrate how they do all the corn star moves with an A+. Pickmeisha will undress the man, even do a cringey striptease routine like they are auditioning for a Vegas cabaret and then jump on him and give him the type of blow dryer job like it’s a new category in the Paris Olympics and they are aiming for the gold medal.

To me a Pickmeisha trying to seduce is like the break dancing Australian kangaroo loving professor trying to break dance in the Olympics.

What makes a great break dancer? Being in the flow. You can’t be in the flow if you are pleasing people.

Some of you say, but you cater to men! Yes as a gender to add value to increase my dating marketplace value so then I am in an excellent position to trade and get what I want. I don’t worship my husband. That is gross. I aim to be the most beautiful in general because if heaven forbid I get widowed I can easily find an office job. If you are unattractive people create every barrier for things that have nothing to do with looks.

I learn what does the group I am trying to gain leverage value. Then after I add enough value and follow my joy, I sit back like a spoiled cat and watch them fight over me.

You don’t get hired with no skills. You need a skill but no one cares if you were an A+ student in fact think you might be annoying. If you are beautiful, elegant and can demonstrate a skill the employer wants it’s easy to be hired. Of course you can be hired while unattractive. I was. After my glow up, I had a completely different life. If you wear flattering clothes your life changes and all these doors open.

Thing of spoiled adored house cats. They follow their joy and knock things over. People love them and chase them, try to pet them and off them treats to distract the cat from the fun it’s having by proving they are more fun.

You need to be in your spoiled cat energy to seduce. Observe these magnificent creatures. They will teach you everything. For example the importance of rest in being loved. They are much more loved than a labour animal but rest in their spoiled cat energy half the day.

Cats never do what they don’t want to. That is part of their seductive charm.

Cats follow their joy and are playful. Sometimes they are naughty and mischievous because they are just having fun and want a reaction from you because they are board.

Cats have strong boundaries.

Cats express gratitude by purring

Cats are beautiful

Cats have big eyes

Cats groom themselves

Cats rest

Cats follow their joy

Cats are playful

Cats are very loving but you have to earn their love by respecting their boundaries and playing and petting correctly.. they don’t give love freely to just anyone like a dog.

Cats are not afraid to ask for what they want expecting they will get it

Cats are not afraid to express disappointment

Cats are confident in their cuteness and will often deliberately try to look cute to get what they want

Cats are loving and will try to purr on you when sick to heal you

Cats love to cuddle and love affection

You can’t boss a cat around

Housecats have slow confident movements

Cats are playful

Cats are unbothered

Almost everything I learned about seduction, I learned from my cats.

What other seduction lessons did you learn from spoiled house cats?

Spoiled house cats 🐈‍⬛ are the ultimate seducers. That is why I play my eye makeup to get big eyes. It works. I look at gentlemen with my big cat eyes and get what I want.

Cats chase their joy while puppies chase you and want to be picked. In TikTok there is a black cat vs golden retriever theory that I will touch upon in future posts.

If you want to be spoiled then watch spoiled pure bred house cats and copy. This also means creating a narrative in your head you were always daddy’s spoiled little princess.. if no such father than you are a spoiled child of God, God loves you. Create a narrative that you were always a spoiled playful cat and the world will spoil you.

I notice elite girls exchange jokes and funny stories but broke girls are so serious. Go out there, have some fun and observe very spoiled house cats and copy.

My cats raised me lol 🤣 and it shows!

What did you learn from cats 🐈‍⬛?

Credit Maria Al Massani

[sergeifyodorov]

hmm i was scrolling through Twitter earlier and as the designated leafs blog in my mind, what are your thoughts on fraser minten? like he’s so interesting to me because in the narrative i’ve created of him he was tavares’ fifth child but then was our balanced by knies being better, but then wjc happened and he still couldn’t crack it. now he’s on the blades (one of the best whl teams i think??) very interesting

NARRATIVELY he's definitely The Tavares Child -- okayyyy so. Sew. this New Generation of leafs (imho starting at Knies and including Easton Cowan as well as minten) kind of... each parallel a member of the Core: Knies is Auston's child (Arizona boy, big strong forward), Cowan is Mitch's child (London Knight, small winger with endless energy) and Minten is JT's child (Captain anywhere he goes, known for maturity and intelligence)... william child + morgan child ->

anyHWAY the real life scouting report under the cut (not too long i don't think)

Minten's a high second-rounder, which is the type of player that's generally designated as an "upper maybe" NHLer -- by which I mean odds-on he'll get NHL games (as Mints has) but it's less likely he'll become a serious full-time player (although many a second-rounder can and does do so!) The most interesting thing about his draft position was that the Leafs, under Kyle Dubas, traded DOWN to get him -- we had a low first-rounder, then traded it to Chicago to get rid of the Mrazek contract and got the pick that would become Mints in return. Many a source says that Kyle wanted Mints anyway and would have taken him with the first-round pick.

The general consensus is that Mints tops out as a middle-six centre, a 3C on a good team or a 2C on a worse one (or a 1C on the Boston Bruins.) His ceiling is probably about 40 or 50 points, maybe more depending on how much power-play usage he gets.

However, it's also noted (and was pretty obvious to me, even watching him at the WJC -- which I'll get to in a second!) that his real value is not and will likely never be in point production. He's a natural centre, good-to-great at faceoffs (a skill that he learned in part from JT!!) and very good defensively. Because he's still a kid, plays a bit physically and tends to be involved in the play at both ends, he probably takes a few too many undisciplined stick infractions, but these things of course can be straightened out with time and wisdom. Also, he's a touch of a personality hire: he was the youngest A on the all-timer Kamloops Blazers last year and was pretty much immediately named C after the Leafs sent him home this year; he was named captain of the CANADIAN WORLD JUNIORS team with zero other experience playing for Canada on the national level. He plays the piano! He's smart, polite, doesn't cause a fuss, wise beyond his years. Takes a guy far.

Anyway, the WJC: just an absolute hackjob by the coach and one of those years that really demonstrates that Hockey Canada still thinks it can get ahead by being Canada (the ol' throw bodies at the wall shtick) and not, like, because of its actual quality of development. I think bowing out when they did was a bit unlucky, but they absolutely were NOT primed to win it all -- especially because the coach basically seemed to have no concept of... line construction? or anything of the sort? Like he just tossed players together from a hat once (1) and decided they were just going to play out the tourney like that -- no real concept of "x is the playmaker, y is the shooter, z is the forechecker" or "these three are the transition line that take d-zone draws and use their speed to create rush chances/o-zone draws" or even something so simple as "this defensively-minded, slower centre is perhaps not the best match for the winger notorious for being opportunistic and shooty." Also, not to put too fine a point on it but a player can have a bad WJC and it doesn't mean anything, or a good WJC and it also doesn't mean anything -- Jesse Puljujarvi rose his draft stock by a good chunk in 2016 by having a FANTASTIC WJC, and he's currently on an AHL tryout. It's a small sample size, mostly played with teammates they barely know and against competition about a half-step up from what they're used to. Weird statlines happen.

Back to MINTS because we're still talking about him. Yess currently he's on the Blades -- traded from the Blazers because the Blazers are garbage and they want to Do Right By The Player and put him on a competitive team (done for two reasons: one, because it can be demoralizing to be the best player on a bad team, and two, because being on a good team in juniors often means you get actually good-for-your-development linemates and usage). He was generally not expected to make the Leafs at ALL this season (I mean, 20-year-old second-rounder, right?) and cracking the roster out of camp, even though he only got three games and has a rather blank statline is SUPER impressive. I'm pretty sure this is his last year of CHL eligibility, after which he'll probably either get put on the Marlies for a year to keep cooking or he'll make the Leafs again and stick around. Either way, he's slid twice I think so we burn a year of his ELC.

and my opinion of the boy? I love him. Let's go baby leafs baby leafs forevar

[evelhak]

Hi, Eve! 👋🏾 For the ask game: 1, 3, 12, 15, 25, 28, and 29. ^__^

Hi Maddie! ✨

1. what are 3 things you'd say shaped you into who you are?

Ok, wow, maybe you shouldn't ask this from someone as wordy and introspective as me, haha... (Actually I got self-conscious about how much I overshared and that's why it took me so long to post this... Sorry. For both?)

Let's say having intense interests, an endless attention span and being initially disadvantaged, the key word here being initially, because the first two things mentioned are big advantages that can overcome most other weaknesses to a great extent, it just means the results tend to show later than average. I think this dynamic being common to me shapes my attitude and perception in life a lot. In short, I don't run away in the face of hardship, but actually, sometimes I should, haha... (Don't worry, I'm getting better at it. Maybe.)

I feel like I need to demonstrate it somehow so here's basically how these three things made me into an author. Being the weird introverted autistic kid I was, I didn't really have friends, but I didn't understand why. If I didn't attempt to insert myself into groups, I was completely ignored, and if I did try to, I was bullied. It was completely incomprehensible to me, because sometimes all I did was say "hello" to a new kid, and they would look at me once from head to toe and say: "I don't like you." And that was that. (People's ability to immediately intuit who's the odd one out is insane sometimes.)

I was at my wit's end, but I always had such an interest in other people and a great desire for connection. So, every day I came home from kindergarten, I started to decode people's behaviour with little dolls, or try to, at least. At first, it was just that, I was trying to understand all the different perspectives to a puzzling social situation by looking at it through each different doll that represented a real person. But soon, since I always had a big imagination and hyper-empathy, it turned into something more, and I was not just playing the actual situations from real life, I was constructing elaborate personalities, life situations and stories that went way beyond the situation I had started with. I became intensely interested in human psychology, though of course, at that age, it was just trying to understand concepts that I saw working between people every day, like jealousy, cruelty, forgiveness, what made some people best friends, why some adults were always angry and why some were nice etc.

Around the same time, I fell in love with the first book series in my life (a very philosophical and psychological fairytale), which started another hobby that helped me gather more theoretical understanding of how people worked. I don't think I was quite conscious of it, but as I learned to write, these two things started merging into one, and I started writing stories, because at that point I had actually gathered a lot of insight into people and situations between them, and I needed an outlet for that. But it may have also been because I somehow realised that as long as I was just playing with dolls, no one would know what was in my mind. But if I could write it, then others could read it, and maybe then, others could see that I had something useful going on in my brain, something that could make me a desirable friend, too. Let's just say it worked, to an extent, but that's another story, haha.

But I had developed an intrinsic interest in understanding people and writing about it, by then. But you could say I became "the therapist friend" because I didn't initially understand people, which led me to spending all my time in my early years, (and now too, really) contemplating the human mind. And I became a writer because initially I had no other outlet to express myself because I lacked all the social skills. So, this is an example of how being bad at something often leads me to develop an intense interest in how to solve that problem, to construct an elaborate compensation system, and it's my attention span working in my favour that allows me to make something of it long term.

(In a way it's odd because I was always low-key included with the "gifted kids" but not really? I remember so many occasions when the people who were immediately good at things, got offended or gave up after things actually got hard for them, and then they were shocked when I finally out-performed them, even if it took literally 10 years for me to get there.)

On the flip side, I probably wouldn't be as disabled as I am now, if I didn't have those three qualities. For example, I didn't know I had a progressive back condition until I was 26. If I wasn't so predisposed to accept suffering and working harder and harder, believing that things will get better, I probably would have realised sooner that this was something that wasn't going to get better, but would just keep getting worse. So, I probably would have gone to the doctor before I was in so much pain that I was unable to work. And if I had, maybe I could sit at a desk for longer than two or three hours a day now.

So yeah. It's either positive kind of perseverance, or it's overcommitment, or "doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results". Depends entirely on how accurate my perception of which battle is worth fighting, is. Sometimes I'm gravely wrong, lmao. Pfft, I knew this was going to get wordy. But yeah, these things explain a lot about me, the good and the bad.

I will make the other answers shorter...

3. 3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

Wicked, Red Riding Hood and Irrational Man.

12. what's some advice you want to share?

This is pretty basic, but I find it's really good: Your needs before other people's wants. Other people's needs before your wants. Relationships go far with this simple principle. (Obviously communication is still key, because people aren't mind readers. And you still need to work on being able to identify what is a want and what is a need...)

Also, here's one I'm trying to work on the most actively right now: Let people think you're a bad/stupid/weird person. This is hard for me, because being misinterpreted has caused me so much pain throughout my life. Having communication differences can make you really conscious of how people misinterpreting and misrepresenting your meaning and intentions can be what being included or excluded in society depends upon. So, that's why it's really difficult for me to accept that no matter how much I explain myself, some people will never understand, because they don't want to, and I should just let them. There are enough people who are willing to see multiple sides, and I shouldn't get so fixated on trying to make the people who don't understand me, understand me. Being fixated on those people can even prevent me from seeing how many more open-minded people there are around me.

15. what do you think of when you hear the word "home"?

Maybe I'm a bore, but I do actually think of my physical home. Particularly my bed area, haha.

25. favourite season and why?

Autumn. It has the most pleasant weather, cool, refreshing, and it rains often, so I get to enjoy my favourite smell (petrichor).

28. do you collect anything?

Books. I have over 500 of them.

Also, these handmade butterfly brooches. They are so pretty and have cool names and little stories that explain their "personalities". I wear at least one to every event, interview, etc. that I go to as an author.

29. What do you do when you're sad?

Cry. I'm pretty simple, lol. Maybe I'll watch or read something that I know will enhance the feeling, because I don't always get my feelings out as often as I should, so I try to make the most of it when it happens, as bottling things is bad.

[l-1-z-a]

📺👑 Are They Teaching Future Dictators in Political Science?! The Sims 2 University

🎓 The Sims 2 University: Political Science or Dictator Training?! 🧐

Ever wondered what it would be like to study political science in The Sims 2 University? Well, brace yourself – it might not be what you think! In this hilarious video, we dive into the political science major and uncover the shocking "dictator-in-training" vibe that some of these classes give off. From mind-controlling lectures to courses that sound more like the blueprint for a power-hungry ruler, these Sims are getting a crash course in ruling the world – one semester at a time!

Join me as we explore the wild side of Sims 2 University and try to figure out if these students are preparing for a life of politics or plotting their rise to power! 💼👑

The video by Reese, published on April 5, 2025, offers an ironic analysis of the "Political Science" major in The Sims 2 University. With humor, the creator demonstrates how the major's in-game courses resemble the training of future dictators more than traditional political science education. The video explores the major's curriculum year by year, including its satirical course names and the required skills Sims must develop to graduate successfully.

Description of Political Science in the Game World

In The Sims 2 University, political science is described as the study of people and power, where students learn "the fine arts of manipulation and influence". This major gives Sims control over other characters and can lead to various careers—politics, of course, among them. The game’s humorous approach to the subject reflects a certain social critique of real-world politics.

The video’s creator notes that political science in the game is portrayed as a means of gaining influence and power, which significantly differs from the academic approach in real universities. This interpretation creates a comedic effect while also prompting reflection on how politics is perceived in popular culture.

Curriculum: From Public Speaking to Suppressing Protests

Freshman Year

In their first year, political science students take two courses. The first is "The Soapbox and You", a reference to the tradition of public speaking where people would literally stand on soapboxes to deliver speeches. This course teaches Sims to express opinions, engage in debates, and persuade others.

The second course is "Feudalism: Serf's Up!"—a pun combining “feudalism” with surfer slang. It humorously explores the historical political system in which kings granted land to nobles in exchange for loyalty.

Sophomore Year

In their second year, Sims take "Patriotism: Why Every Country Is Worse Than Yours"—a satirical take on extreme national pride that can lead to a sense of superiority over other nations. The course title ironically critiques nationalism and its distortions of perception.

Another course is "Lab: Making Your Own Monarchy", a tongue-in-cheek exploration of political structures. The video’s creator compares this to games like Risk or Europa Universalis, highlighting the absurdity of building a monarchy in a lab setting.

Junior Year

The junior year includes "Plutocracy: Buying the Vote", a critical look at systems where the wealthy hold power and influence governance. The subtitle, “buying the vote,” satirically hints at using money to sway political outcomes via campaign funding, lobbying, or corruption.

The second course is "Protesters: When to Repress", a dark satire on the dynamics between state power and civil unrest. According to the video’s author, at this point, the Sim becomes a “true Machiavellian.”

Senior Year

In their final year, Sims study "History Majors: Why You Should Hate Them", a playful jab at stereotypical academic rivalries. The video notes that the "History" major in the game includes a mirrored course about hating political scientists.

The capstone project is "Senior Project: Questionable Fundraising Internship", which may reference fundraising for revolutions or regimes—or the selling of questionable goods.

Key Skills for a Successful Political Scientist

To successfully complete the Political Science major, Sims must develop several key skills:

Charisma (5 points) – Reflects the importance of persuasion, public speaking, and interpersonal communication in politics. Political scientists need strong charisma to convince voters, win debates, and construct arguments.

Body (4 points) – An unexpected requirement that could relate to the physical stamina needed during campaigns or to a politician’s appearance, considering their public role. The video also suggests this may reference the often harsh nature of political change.

Creativity (4 points) – Indicates that politics often demands creative thinking and strategic innovation. This can relate to narrative-building, reframing issues for public support, or diplomacy requiring subtlety and tact.

Cleaning (4 points) – A satirical nod to the idea of “cleaning up” political messes—both literally and metaphorically. As a politician, a Sim might get involved in scandals and need to repair their reputation. It may also reference the “dirty work” of politics, including corruption or ethically questionable decisions.

Conclusion

Reese’s video is a witty analysis of how political science is depicted in The Sims 2 University, where the game satirically exaggerates the darker aspects of politics. The creator emphasizes that the "Political Science" major in the game feels more like training for future dictators than a traditional education—complete with courses on protest suppression, public manipulation, and authoritarian regime-building.

This approach reflects a certain cynicism about politics and pokes fun at political stereotypes, all while maintaining The Sims’ signature humor. As the video concludes, a Sim with this major will definitely need “an ethical compass,” or else the town of Pleasantview could be in serious trouble.

[legrandepapillon]

Wyll and Astarion having a friendly sparring match post-game to relive the glory days. Whether it ends soft or steamy is up to you!

Rating: E

i am SO sorry for the amount of time it took me to fill this, life & writer's block were jumping me. however i DID have a lot of fun writing this so thank you for the prompt!

should’ve known i’d pick steamy ofc. also something about the idea of Flaming Fist Blaze Wyll makes me twirl my hair & kick my legs

HC that Wyll is the type of commander to say “Please, Mr. Ravengard was my father, call me Wyll” to the starry-eyed recruits & fan their crush on him while Astaron rolls his eyes

elements of dom/sub (service top/pleasure dom wyll, bratty sub/power bottom astarion), rough sex, & a little blood play to be found here. also this is my first time writing explicit wyllstarion smut start to finish.

There were many sounds to be heard throughout the Flaming Fist stronghold throughout any given day, but the loudest tended to emanate from the training quarters smack in the center of the grounds. Wooden weapons against straw dummies, the bodies of fresh recruits hitting the hard leather during a bit of physical demonstration… and the groans of pain from said demonstrations that often left them battered and bruised. It was a consistent and profuse cacophony of ear-splitting noise in the Fist recruitment hall these days. Young women and men flocked to the ranks of the command, for once eager to ladder climb in the name of glory as opposed to gold; most of them starry-eyed and hopeful at the idea of laying on eyes on the Blaze Wyll Ravengard—Hero of Baldur’s Gate, former Blade of Frontiers, and the future Duke of the city.

During the day, under the scorching sun in the midst of training the city’s future militia, it could become loud enough to deafen. But at night with the moon high in the sky and only torch-light illuminating the abandoned grounds, the only sound was that of two men lost in their own world. A pair of old adventurers, skills still sharp from their well-formed routine of friendly sparring.

In a dirt ring outdoors where most recruits met a rather painful tumble to the hands of their more capable counterparts, Astarion and Wyll circle each other listlessly. One armed with a pair of glinting twin daggers, the other with the steel of his rapier pointed towards the dirt. Though their weapons are real and their blades sharp, neither have the intent to hurt each other.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Blade? I don’t exactly know how to play nice—haven’t you figured that out yet?” mocks Astarion, the barest hint of amusement in his voice while he dons a rather fake growl of threat. Wyll rolls his eyes in response, playing at being offended by the implication.

“I’m not worried about you playing nice, Astarion,” he shrugs. “Fight fair or fight dirty, either way I’ll win.”

The idea that he’d ever fight fair is almost as laughable as the idea that he’d fight bloodlessly had been in the beginning. Perhaps that would change with time, too.

Oh, and all the time it had taken. To learn the self-control necessary not to provide a killing blow. But he was rather amused with how well it honed his reflexes; fixing himself to respond defensively without hurting his counterpart surprisingly made for sharper instincts. He recalls a time long ago, back at a druidic grove filled with refugees from Elturel on the cusp of being thrown to the wolves. In the brief moments of levity where he witnessed the tiefling elders attempting to teach their little ones to play. The children were always too high-strung to remember that they had claws and horns and that they couldn’t simply wrestle without also keeping a bit of mindfulness. At the time, he’d merely looked on with vague disinterest while his group meandered through the grove trying to parse through the budding tensions. But he’d been oddly reminiscent of the children at the beginning of this; eager to pounce and have a romp around in the grass, but fearful of hurting someone. Of hurting Wyll.

Back then, Astarion had been accustomed only to fighting for survival. The concept of it being for fun—to pass time and clear his thoughts—was foreign to him.

Now? He has the presence of mind and prowess of some of those elders. He both knows the luxuries of friendly sparring without his life being at risk, and the thrills of toeing the line anyways.

Because that's what this is about in the end, isn’t it? The thrill? The excitement?

The domesticity of life in the Gate—life as the fiancé to Blaze Wyll Ravengard—though comfortable, was often mundane. This brought excitement. Their game, with more layers than he could ever voice, kept the spark alive.

“You’re overthinking again,” announces Wyll, making a sudden movement to the left to snap him back to the present. Astarion’s hand jerks out to cover his right side intuitively, ensuring he doesn’t provide the opening to his partner while he scans for one of his own.

“And you’re talking to me like one of your recruits, again,” he retorts. He finds his opening quicker than expected, lunging for a jab towards the younger man’s left flank. The flat of his blade meets empty air by only a half-second, Wyll dancing elegantly out of the way. He recovers quickly before he can sacrifice his advantage, pressing the offense with another swipe towards his chest with the other hand. The tip of the dagger barely scratches the edge of Wyll’s shoulder as he moves backwards, dodging before finding his own opening towards Astarion’s stomach. The flat of his rapier smacks his partner against his navel, only slightly catching the thick fabric of his tunic.

“Oh, c’mon, Astarion. You can be quicker than that,” taunts the former warlock with an airy laugh. And though the flickers of hubris might be unattractive to anyone else, his sparring partner can’t help but find it painfully arousing. He grins at him sharply before doing just that, light-feet taking him out of range from his rapier two beats before the next slash.

Both of them are still dexterous and well-trained. Years of fighting for survival on both ends has made their timing top notch, months of sparring for fun have made their reflexes impeccable. Each jab of the rapier is met with a carefully timed parry from a dagger, each riposte from a blade recovered smoothly by dancers’ feet. It’s like this more often than not; a test of endurance over brutality. Wyll is graceful like a dancer, Astarion more comparable to a feline, but they both have the finesse required to take the viciousness out of it.

Like a well-choreographed waltz, they feint and parry and slash with rhythm. From adagio to allegro, the tempo of their moves goes from tenuous and careful to eager and energetic. Stamina will provide the winner of their game, not mightiness.

And… alright. There are other things to be gained from this. Whenever there’s a vampire spawn involved, there could hardly be any expectation there wouldn’t be some sort of ulterior motive. If he gets to see Wyll in action similar to the heady excitement of their glory days, if he gets enough noble eye candy to accompany some of his more lascivious fantasies then… well, as they say, birds and stones.

Astarion always especially admires, in these moments stolen away from polite society, the glimmers of Wyll’s arrogance. Of course, the Blade turned Blaze tried so desperately to remain humble in light of becoming a Hero and being given his own command. I have to set an example, he insisted, weighed down by his own righteousness. We need protectors for this city that desire honor, not glory.

But bad an influence as he was, Astarion can’t help but admire the confidence in each move when he fights. His strikes are unsparing, his parries precise and he knows it. No lack of magic could make him a less admirable fighter, his sword arm had not gotten lazy and his feet had not turned to stones. Wyll was just as graceful now without infernal power pumping through his veins as he was the day they met, jumping down from that rock and spitting charming one-liners—most importantly, he didn’t need to say it for the other man to know.

It didn’t help any how attractive he could be like this, either. The sweat sticking his cotton tunic to his broad chest, toned muscles flexing with effort, crimson eye glistening with his excitement and lips tugged into a cocky smile. The way the moonlight illuminated deep russet toned flesh, making him have an almost ocean blue hue in some places. And his laughter, deep and warm like the fleeting rays of sun… Astarion could fall all over again, time and time again, just from this.

He’s so lost in his admiration he miscalculates a dodge, loses his footing and gives Wyll the ability to press his offense. The danger in his right hand is knocked abruptly into the dirt, leaving him with the one blade to fight with. His left hand is the weaker one, better for attacking rather than defending, and he knows well the consequences of being caught in such a state.

Best to switch tactics, and hope the element of surprise regains the upper hand. Beautiful man or else wise, Astarion has always been a sore loser. 

Tossing his blade he goes in for a tackle, and both men go tumbling to the dirt. He bargains correctly on taking Wyll by surprise; his rapier slips from his fingers as he goes down, a last-ditch effort not to accidentally stab either of them. There’s a grunt from the air being knocked out of him, but he recovers quickly. He hooks an arm beneath Astarion’s to try to maneuver himself on top, which only entices the reaction of Astarion wrapping his legs around his waist to try to throw himself back to advantage.

“Why can’t you ever fight honorably?” complains Wyll as they struggle, during one brief moment where he finds himself pinned face-down in the dirt. He bucks like a wild horse to get his opponent off of him, sending the both of them scrambling.

“Well, I thought you’d given me permission for a little rough play,” Astarion snipes back, before lunging back into the fray. There’s at least laughter at that, despite the struggle between them for advantage.

They grapple in this way for a while, faces inching closer to each other’s and hands groping desperately for leverage. It isn’t until Astarion finds himself on his back, wrists pinned to the dirt and knee in his hip that he finally gives up. It didn’t always end this way; sometimes he won, leaving Wyll with a bruised lip or ego or both. But the despair of defeat was always followed by the thrill of proximity whenever it did—their blood rushing with adrenaline, their faces inches apart, their breathing labored, and their bodies pressed so close it’s a wonder there’s any space to be found between them at all.

“Pinfall. Call it,” Wyll grins, his grip loose but firm on Astarion’s pale wrists. The man jerks his head against the dirt, looking away from that crimson eye swimming in obsidian—trying to maintain an inch of his dignity. Wyll’s other knee presses against his thigh. “Oh, don’t be a dirty fighter and a sore loser. Call it, Astarion.”

He looks back up at him. Tongue darts out to wet his dry lips. He doesn’t acquiesce; he almost never does when he loses. He does surge up to capture Wyll’s lips, kissing him hot and filthy in distraction. The man’s grip goes completely lax almost immediately, hands leaving his wrists so one can plant itself against Astarion’s cheek sweetly. The vampire isn’t looking for sweetness though. He’s miffed by his loss and entranced by his lover, needing something equally as thrilling as their combat to put him thoroughly in his place.

Wyll was the only one that could do that, after all. Put him in his place, make him heel. He’d do it biting and kicking and screaming but for Wyll he’d do it, at least.

Fangs nick at full lips in the kiss, the drops of blood blowing his pupils full with an insatiable hunger of all varieties. His partner isn’t at all perturbed by it either, pressing in with his hips with eager excitement at the sensation. It’s just this for a few breathless minutes, Wyll’s hand against his face and Astarion’s tongue lapping at the teasing drops of blood that leak from his lips. Mouths moving together passionately, seeking something out of this that neither of them could put words to.

It could be this for the rest of the night, if either of them wanted. Their game didn’t always have to end a certain way. Wyll would kiss him, or he would kiss Wyll, and that could be that. But Astarion wants more than this. He wants to be wrangled into his place, the unrepentant vampire spawn and his dogmatic monster hunter.

When Wyll pulls away from the kiss, he mouths at Astarion’s neck and eases his knee from the older man’s hip to hook under his thigh. He arches into the kisses in response, tilting his head so that he could feel the warmth of Wyll’s lips against more of skin, welcoming the man to have more of him. In the light of day Blaze Ravengard would never be caught so unhinged, but here in the moonlit training grounds he could be ravenous and devour his lover with no hesitation.

Cool, ever-chilled hands roam up the spine of the younger man and push him in closer—seeking all that too-hot body warmth Wyll had since he’d been turned infernal. His hips rock upwards and the other warm hand pins them to the ground firmly.

“Ah, ah,” breathes Wyll against his neck, plumes of warm air coming hot against his collarbone. “Be patient.”

“Screw patience.”

“You could always,” his teeth drag playfully over Astarion’s neck, almost directly opposite to the scars on the other side. The full body shudder that rakes through the other man makes him chuckle. “call the pinfall.”

The idea is tantalizing. It was cause and effect, this thing between them. Push and pull, give and take. A behavioral lesson, Wyll had once joked, panting hard and covered in a thin sheen of post-coital sweat. Astarion fought so hard against showing any signs of weakness or vulnerability, all down to the very act of submitting when he was beaten. He’d fought every day for two hundred years, been broken in every way imaginable but his spirit. And there’d been many times where he’d been able to acquiesce to the feeling of being broken under the thumb of Cazador, to admit that there was nothing anyone could ever do to escape him. That he was his spawn, likely for the rest of his miserable unlife, and that would be that. But he still snarked and schemed and stole—stole moments of freedom, moments of peace, moments of contrition and resistance.

He played the part of a mewling, sniveling subservient pet but never truly felt it. He never bowed, not really. Not without the sharp dig of his own claws in his fist. 

Wyll doesn’t expect a year to change that about him, and that’s the beautiful part of it. But Astarion could, sometimes, truly give up his own control. Every so often he could go lax, and lower his eyelids, and admit that Wyll has him. In every way that matters and some of the ways that don’t, too. He could be vulnerable and weak. Every so often, for this man, he’d even want to.

He could call the pinfall, and Wyll could praise him for being such a good boy, and kiss him sweetly. Settle himself between his thighs and truly worship him.

Tonight is not that night, however. They have the rest of Wyll’s life for Astarion to show complacency, but right now he wants to be shown why Wyll deserves it. He pulls back his lips to reveal his sharp canines, pins the other man with a challenging stare and grins like a feral animal. Wyll’s good eye blows wide and Astarion watches the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. The act of defiance is not met violently, except for the way he takes his mouth against his and conquers.

Wyll’s hand, firm and devout, moves from the grip on his hip to tug the loose fabric of his tunic up. Warm heat spreads through Astarion’s belly at the feel of his palm right there on his chilled flesh. And Astarion arches even at that, pathetic as it may be. The muscles in his abdomen seize, anticipatory with how close his lover could be where he wants him. A thumb hovers over his navel, and he wishes that the man would travel straight south and put those magnificent fingers to better use. But Wyll just kisses; desperately, eagerly, domineering and yet ever kind. 

When his mouth pulls away Astarion hisses, but is quickly placated with a kiss to his jawline. Warm soft lips place kisses ever where they can; his cheek, the corner of his mouth, the space where his ears meet his jaw, the slope of his ears and the tips of them too. He’s practically reverent, the heady passion with which he kisses outweighed by the floating sensation each brings with it.

“I love you like this, you know?” Wyll says into his ear, simple and warm. “I love it when you’re difficult.”

“You’re a fool,” Astarion pants in response, because doesn’t that just sound so inane and ridiculous and erotic. His hips jerk forward against the other man again, the tent in his pants catching at Wyll’s thigh. They both groan at the contact. 

“Your fool,” responds Wyll easily, kissing down to his neck. “Your sweet fool, my darling star, and only yours.”

Astarion silences him by slipping a hand in his trousers, palming at his cock through his small clothes. An overt act of defiance, pushing back against every instinct that shouts at him to submit. Wyll’s sucks air in through his teeth sharply and comes to terms that there are battles that he won’t be given but must fight.  A good lesson for a man fresh out of magic and learning survival by his own might.

And then there’s a palm on his throat, pressing his head back into the dirt. Carefully manicured claws dig just in the spot beneath his jawline, not deep enough to hurt but to enforce the idea of who won. Who is stronger, faster, better… who’s in control.

“You can be sweeter than that; gentler,” he whispers, and it carries the weight it needs to. Astarion shivers at the command, and the reminder cows him into submission far earlier than he’d like. He eases his groping, switches to a more polite massage and arcs with a whine beneath his monster hunter. It is frankly terrifying, how easy it is for this man to veer him back towards obedience. “Good boy.”

Another hiss, this time as the vampire scrambles to find his footing again. He arches his hips upwards, bucks like the pinned, cornered, feral animal he’s supposed to be rather than the domesticated one he’s becoming. Refuses to give his lover the satisfaction so easily, and without uttering a syllable manages to demand exactly what he wants. Wyll huffs a bit of laughter, muttering something about him being endearingly insolent. And then their lips are on each other again, the younger man’s hot pink tongue slipping into Astarion's mouth. He moans into the wet kiss, his hand going lax on Wyll’s dick and his other clawing at the man’s back desperately. Pressing him closer, trying to eliminate the little space between their bodies.

Just as sweetly and passionately as he kisses, Wyll touches. His hand is warm and gentle as it roams over Astarion’s abdomen, bunching the fabric of his tunic on his wrist and sliding upwards until he can shirk his arms out of it. They have to pull away to discard the offending clothing, tossing it haphazardly a few feet away in the dirt. In the moment, neither vampire nor his partner can pay credence to the fine Amnian silks it’s made of or how many hours he’d sunk into designing it. It might as well be a soiled handkerchief, the way it crumples on the dirt training grounds. 

Broad hands travel planes of milky white skin, gleaming beneath the moonlight. Index and thumb gently massage a pert pink nipple, causing Astarion to moan again into the kiss. The hand that’s been resting on his throat squeezes lightly, not hard enough to be punishing like earlier but just a gentle reminder of its presence. A reverent thumb swipes along his jawline, the rest of those calloused digits pulling him deeper into the kiss. 

And still Astarion’s hand strokes, touches, feels. Without permission, but that seems to be a battle that Wyll is okay with losing tonight. His hips rock forward into the rhythm of it, letting long lithe experienced digits grope him through the fabric of his small clothes. They remain this way for long minutes, until Astarion gives a needy whine and starts to maneuver around the cotton of Wyll’s underwear.

Wyll comes back to the game then, removing his hand from his throat to grab his wrist and pin it to the ground. He settles up on his haunches between Astarion’s legs, gives him a look of warning.

His voice is velvet smooth when he speaks, a sharp contrast to the vague threat he wraps around the words. “Do you want to get off tonight?” 

“What in the hells kind of stupid question is that—”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Of course—”

“Then stay,” he commands, before reaching for the hem of Astarion’s trousers. There’s a sternness to his voice that actually snaps the vampire out of his insubordinate attitude, makes him give a short nod of his head. Wyll is careful about undressing Astarion; gentle hands pull apart the laces on his breeches, and they’re bordering on veneration when they pull them with his small clothes down to his knees. It’s less than ideal, being bare-ass in the dirt where just anyone could stumble across the two of them.

But there’s a thrill in it, too. Of being so thoroughly subdued by his man—his sweet, foolish, darling man—that he would lay himself bare in every way imaginable. To give Wyll the power to humiliate him willingly is one of their many exercises in trust; to spar with him without it ending in bloodshed, to love him without hurting him, to take the brunt of his moods without ever returning an unkind gesture. To hold the very power of his destruction in the center of his palm, and still handle it like the finest china.

Astarion bites back the whimper of desire that threatens through the guard of his canines at the very thought. Still, Wyll notes his desperation anyway and is gracious enough to hurry through the motions. Though quick, his movements are far from being harsh or unsparing. He lowers himself slowly down the pale elf’s body with sweet kisses, lips brushing at pert pink nipples and sucking at the ticklish spot on his ribcage. When he’s nestled between Astarion’s thighs, face to face with his weeping wet cock, he even presses a loving kiss to his hipbone. The older man shudders at the action, body fully trembling with the desperation to be touched and the difficulty of obedience. The cruel, evil, sadistic monster in him wants to grab a fistful of Wyll’s hair and shove those soft lips over his tip. The submissive, lovable, tamed man that he’s become only flexes the muscles in his thighs and bats his eyelashes pleadingly.

“Wyll…” he sighs, hips bucking but still maintaining the teasing distance his lover has put between himself and where he wants him. 

“I’m going,” Wyll assures, gentleness laced through his tone to ensure Astarion understands that he’s not peeved at the insistence but rather endeared. It makes the very tips of his ears flush. “Voco arvina.”

One callused hand becomes slick with grease, glistening under the sparing moonlight whilst the other angles his lover’s hips upwards. Wyll takes a mouthful of Astarion’s cock like a seasoned veteran, like he’s the one that’s been on his knees for two centuries. And like the blushing virgin, the vampire keens. A moan loud enough to wake the entire barracks leaves his lips, back arching off of the gritty dirt training ground and into the wet heat of his fiancé’s mouth. The hand on his hips tightens in warning and Astarion practically melts into the command. He relaxes his muscles, wills himself to be still. To be good for this man. Oh, the rewards for being good so outweighed the satisfaction of being cruel these days.

He can feel himself losing his will to be combatant by the second. Impudence trickling out of his mind and replaced slowly with the overwhelming desire to give everything over to this beautiful, magnificent man.

Fingers by now well-practiced slide with the grease between the cleft of his ass, parting the cheeks to reach their destination with the dexterity of a man that knows what he’s doing. Wyll had bumbled with this in the very beginning. It was a shame, the only person who he’d ever given pleasure to in this way was himself and when Astarion had seen how he was doing it he almost wept for the poor man’s rear. It’d taken patience to get him to learn how to be gentle, how to touch and stroke and push and caress. But once he’d learned…—

“Gods damn it, Wyll!” Astarion hisses, unsure of whether to thrust up into his mouth or grind down onto the digits pressing into his entrance. His hips stutter and twitch but ultimately remain perfectly still in his lover’s grip. It’s a rather handy trick at teaching him this bit of discipline. The message comes through loud and clear. He’ll take only what Wyll Ravengard deigns to give him; he wouldn’t demand anything more, or anything less. And more importantly, he’d be grateful for it. Happy to be at the mercy of a man that knows better, happy to be mindless and pliant in the hands of a kind man for once. To be taken care of, to be cowed into vulnerability.

The thought sends whatever blood left in his system from dinner right to his cock, which twitches eagerly as Wyll sucks more of him down. Astarion kicks at the dirt beneath him, brings a single hand up to bite his fist. He knows better than to place a hand on the tidy canerows of the man’s freshly braided hair, or to reach for his wrist in a plea for more. It’d only serve to end their fun, disappoint him with how difficult he’s finding it to be good.

Astarion doesn’t want to disappoint Wyll. He wants to be good, he wants to be perfect, he wants to be his.

Because Wyll is not a cruel man. He’s not an unjust one, nor is he a demanding one. If there was any man on Earth he’d come to heel for, it had to be this one. He knows that he’s safe with him, that the trust he puts into his hands wouldn’t be misappropriated. And so he tries his best to be so good, because Wyll is good to him. He’d spent two centuries caving to men that only wanted to take, what kind of unsalvageable monster would he be to disobey the one that wanted to give?

Astarion makes a noise at the back of his throat, somewhere between a whine and a moan as Wyll lifts to lick at the tip of his dick. The pads of his fingers press deeper into him, massaging at his prostate reverently. And he does all this with his good eye fixated on Astarion’s expression, watching for any sign of discomfort or malcontent. It never comes.

Indeed, the vampire is open-mouth panting—his bottom lip pink and puffy from all the kissing. There’s no need for the steady repetitive breaths that come from him, there’s no need for breathing at all. But it feels right to pant like a dog. Wyll’s pretty, perfect pampered pet begging for more of his master's attention. It only becomes more deliberate with every lick or suck or tease from the man himself, the walls of his disobedience crumbling in every second. It doesn’t hurt to think of Wyll has his master, his owner, someone that has caught and tamed him. It doesn’t bother him for even a moment—not when Wyll playfully skims his sharpened canines along the shaft of his dick, not when he leans forward until his nose tickles at Astarion’s pubic bone. And certainly not when he swallows him down, and the vampire sees spots of long in the darkness where he’d squeezed his eyes closed. He falls into it all, nails digging into the dirt beneath him and hips rocking upward. 

He’s seeking his pleasure greedily now, no sight for anything other than that tumble off the edge into his own indolent nirvana. The steadily growing knot of tension in the pit of his stomach is only counterweighed by the thick blanket of subservience lowering over his consciousness. Slowly, one by one, all of his thoughts begin to filter out of his mind. Almost orderly, a procession of every negative emotion single file out of his forefront of awareness into all there’s left is this. Him. Wyll. Sweet Wyll. Giving Wyll. Loving, tender, cherishing Wyll Ravengard. His love for him floating cloudy through every nerve in his flesh, eyes rolling back in his head as he nears the precipice of the abyss, ready to hurdle over completely.

Never let this end, he thinks desperately, as his fiancé’s tongue laps at another bead of precum. Let me stay here, Master, I want to be here for you, always…

That proverbial abyss was rapidly gaining faster than he’d anticipated. But just as he’s ready to let go, to throw himself over with the knowledge that Wyll would be his safety net, a strong clamps down hard at the base of his cock. Astarion cries out a sob and his hips stutter, chasing the sweet release that he’s suddenly denied.

“Master,” Astarion sobs, already hoarse and teetering shamefully on the brink of satisfaction. “Fuck, please, why?!”

There’s a brief pause from Wyll at the moniker, as there always is. He double checks to ensure that Astarion is still present with him. As always, he won’t say or do a thing else beyond what his lover needs. By now, he’s used to being called by the old moniker—though in the beginning, there’d been lengthy and painful tedious discussions about how he never wanted to be to Astarion what Cazador had been. How he wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of being categorized by the same title that had subjugated his love.

When Astarion had ensured him that it was less of him becoming his new master, and more of him taking that title away to give it to someone far more deserving, his Blaze had been more on board.

And now, after all that, Wyll only needs brief check in before he’s diving back into the game.

“I’ll give you what you want, my love,” he hums, pressing kisses to pale thighs sheened with sweat. “Just call the pinfall.”

Astarion groans, tosses his head back against the dirt. Again, he is presented with the chance to cut the game short by submitting entirely. To give into Wyll’s sweet demand without protest, be awarded in turn. But it’s early in the night, and though his cock throbs with denial, he finds that he wants more still. There is another spar to be found here, in this and he finds that he isn’t ready to yield. Every thought of simple subservience flees him with the last dregs of his denied orgasm. If he cannot have his way, then Wyll won't have his, either.

He lifts his head. Licks at dry lips, quirks an eyebrow with more insouciance than he feels. He voice only shakes a little bit when he speaks, which he is unnecessarily proud of.

“Surely you have more to you than just your tongue and fingers? You’ll have to work harder than that, I’m afraid.”

“Cheeky little pet,” chuckles the younger man, pressing yet another kiss to his inner thigh. He stares up at him lovingly, fingers still working at the vampire's hole. The pleasure-driven strokes against his prostate ease entirely, fingers seeking to stretch rather than gratify. Astarion fights the grin that threatens his lips, knowing what comes next. His favorite part of the game.

He might be denied his release several times over, but at least he’ll be stuffed with cock while it happens.

As expected, Wyll clambers up onto his knees. He looms this way, presence hovering over the elven vampire in what should be an intimidating way. If it were anyone else, Astarion might feel just that. But this is his darling Wyll, his doting and indulgent master. He wouldn’t even dream of harming him—or not in any way that Astarion wouldn’t love—and the presence above him feels more like protection than a threat. There is only the enveloping warmth of safety, and electrically charged air of desire. 

Astarion is obedient enough to keep his hands by his head, even when he desires nothing more but to reach out and touch. Wyll's armor had rucked up and left a small exposed trail of hair leading down his navel. His trousers had come undone, and they hang low on his hips. In the time between the fall of the Absolute and his position as Blaze, he'd put on more weight—though most of it was hard muscle, brought on by months of non-stop combat training with his command. Astarion wants to sink his teeth into the extra span of deep, umber flesh. He wants to lick and caress and kiss. He might be allowed to later; when they could make love in a real bed, no games just Wyll and Astarion.

But first he wants to be fucked stupid. And to do that, he has to wait. Wait while Wyll tugs his armor and undershirt off of his chest, while he frees his thick erection from his smalls and shoves them down to his thighs, while he one-handed casts another grease spell. Years of spellcasting while wielding his weapon have made him an expert multitasker, and his fingers keep a steady if not unhurried pace while he works. Astarion doesn’t even bother trying to make himself look pretty. He just lays there and reacts how he pleases to the sensation of being stretched open on slender, dexterous fingers. His subdued throaty gasps and sweaty, red-face don’t make him any less attractive to Wyll. In fact, he strokes the grease onto his dick with a hunger in his eye, practically salivating at the display beneath him.

“You look so good for me, Astarion,” Wyll murmurs, voice thick with lust, confirming Astarion’s thoughts. “If only you could behave as prettily as you look.”

“W-Where—hah, mm…—where would be the fun in that?” he responds wickedly. And the man above him beams, not a single word needed to express just how much he agrees.

Wyll slips his fingers out—he’d worked up to three while lubing up, enough to give Astarion the stretch he loved without hurting him—and lowers himself over the vampire carefully. He rests most of his weight on his knees and forearm, despite many months of insistence on his lover's part that he could lay completely on him just fine. With a gentle nudge at Astarion’s thighs with his knees to make space for his body between his legs, he takes only a few moments to get comfortable. And then he’s smiling down at his lover, indulgent as he can be, before dipping low for a sweet kiss. The game pauses here, in this pocket of time right before he presses against his entrance, because he knows in the forthcoming moments he will not be kind. He wants to remind Astarion of how much he adores him, bring him forth out of the cloudy haze of fantasy to the reality of their romance. He will be rough, and bruising, and possibly even cruel with denial. But it is from a place of love and affection, never maliciousness.

And then Astarion feels the nudge of his tip at his entrance, and the smile on Wyll’s lips turns wicked.

“Call the pinfall. Last chance.”

“Go fuck yourself, darling,” Astarion coos back, too much affection in the words to be properly venomous.

“Why would I need to? I have you to use for that,” he pushes in now, sliding home in one swift moment. Astarion mewls, back arching off of the ground and eyes rolling. It’s exactly what he’d been wanting. Stretched so perfectly across his man, swiftly filled to the brim with cock. “Don’t I, pet?”

“Oh, Gods, yes,” Astarion sighs, not so much an answer to his inquiry but more of an encouragement to his fiancé to keep going. Wyll, however, pulls out to the tip on the next stroke and gives a disapproving look. If looks could kill, he’d drop dead between his lovers legs. Instead, his face smooths out into a cheeky smile.

“Hm. But I think you can take me deeper than that, can’t you?” Hitching both hands under the vampire's knees, he gently pushes his legs up and apart. Astarion folds in half quite easily—two centuries of forced flexibility coming right in hand. “Hold these for me, will you, love?”

“You are a,” Astarion reaches under his legs to hold his knees up, spread just like Wyll requests. He doesn’t argue, though he would be remiss not to complain. Especially when the request tints his cheeks such a bright pink, and Wyll is still giving him that cheeky, knowing look. “magnificent bastard, my dear.”

It's a frankly lewd position to be in—spread wide open like a cheap whore, an illuminated trail of grease leaking over his pale asscheeks. He's exposed entirely now, quite literally the definition of vulnerable, with only his smalls still hanging feebly off of one ankle. It's made even more scandalizing by the locale. Astarion is briefly reminded that any unfortunate recruit or unlucky night guard wandering around could stumble across them on the training grounds. But there's a rush of a thrill to even that, the threat of humiliation doing wondrous things to his already painfully hard erection. They could be caught, and he worries he wouldn't feel an iota of mortification. They could be caught, and all it would mean is someone else sees. See how tenderly he's held—no, owned by this brilliant man. Even when he is acting like a prick, or being disobedient, or refusing to do something so simple as admitting he's been beaten. Even when he's so defiant that he has to be a taught a lesson right in the middle of the range. Even then, he will be looked after by his master, his lover, his fiance, his Wyll.

Wyll smiles down at him knowingly, as if he'd read his throughts, before taking proper hold of his hips and slamming deep into him.

He sets a punishing pace outright, both of them too impatient to waste time. It would be maddening with any average cock, but Wyll is hardly average. Six bumpy ridges line the underside of his shaft—each of them roughly an inch or so apart. They were soft and pliable when he was flaccid, but when filled with arousal became firm. With the delicious curve to Wyll’s cock, each one caught perfectly on his prostate. It made him delirious, cock-drunk, driven mad with euphoria.

Astarion is left to claw uselessly at his own thighs, forbidden for now from reaching up to hold onto his horns but being properly railed to the point of thoughtlessness. Wyll covers him with his body, sinks his teeth into the place where his shoulder becomes his neck, and fucks him in long, inevitable strokes. Each one pounds home harsher than the last, lewd wet sounds of skin on skin and the crude squelching of grease filling the night air around their respective sounds of pleasure.

It’s delightful. His eyes roll back in his head, bottom lip caught on his canine as he chews at the soft flesh desperately. Wyll gives him exactly what he deserves, what he needs. One hand, still slippery with grease, takes a bruising grip to his hips whilst the other strokes him in tandem. A veritable assault of pleasure on every receptor in his body—the repetitive motion against his prostate, the contrasting sweet strokes along his shaft, the moans of satisfaction from the man he loves that betray just how much Wyll gets from this too.

Every so often, Astarion works himself up to the brink of an orgasm. He’ll feel it building up slowly—not the crash off the edge he’s accustomed to but a slow steady increase of tension. A dawning horizon of ecstasy, eclipsing all reasonable thought and leaving him reduced to increasingly labored pants of Wyll’s name. He’ll get right there at the peak, trembling with it, before his fiancé would harshly clamp off his release and kiss him softly in return. 

After the third time, Wyll panting against his neck and tears welling in his eyes from denial, he gives a frustrated sob. Seemingly having enough of his cruel bit of play, the man above him gently takes over the hold of his legs. Heels dig into Wyll’s back like spurs, long lithe legs strap around the other man's waist and cling on desperately. With his hands free, Astarion takes the liberty to express some of his frustration. He brings his hands up to dig into the man’s shoulders. Presses his nails deep into the dark flesh until he can smell pinpricks of blood, feel the tacky liquid slowly pool beneath his fingertips.

Wyll hisses in response and sinks his teeth into the crook of his shoulder in return. “Still haven't had enough, have you? I can do this all night, love.”

He’s sure his partner can’t; he’s only human, after all, and they’d used up a good deal of stamina on the sparring. But he’s not interested in arguing the point; his cock is thick and heavy against his stomach, weeping milky white on his navel. He doesn’t want to wait a second longer.

“You win, darling,” Astarion demands through gritted teeth. “Now, please, I need it. I need you.”

And here, it peaks. The turn of the game where Astarion gives Wyll what he needs out of it. To be needed. To be useful. To be able to give everything his lover desires, and more. If Astarion has spent his whole existence bucking authority, then Wyll has wasted so much of his trying to appeal to it. Or one figure of authority, in particular. An entire lifetime of being denied such simple pleasures such as a ‘Good job, Wyll’ or ‘I’m proud of you’ had done irreparable damage to his beloved Blade.

Astarion can’t fix any of that. But he can work at it like this. Giving Wyll the chance to do something good, and making sure he knew how thoroughly he’d accomplished the task. By whatever means necessary. If it means cowing a bit, giving into his own desires and allowing himself to slip fully into obedience, well then... birds and stones.

It works, of course. Wyll moans, deep and low in his chest. He sounds a little fuck-drunk when he speaks, muttering sweet nothings into pallid flesh as he readjusts his hold. “I have you. Gonna give you what you need, I promise…”

They’re both so close to the edge. Wyll pulls back to stare Astarion in the eyes—sentimental fool that he is, he always had a harder time getting off if he couldn’t see his face. There’s love and adoration there in that crimson iris of his, as there always is and certainly always will be.

Sometimes it’s too much, to be regarded so sweetly, and Astarion would bury his face in the pillows. But right now, he can only stare wide-eyed up at the man he loves, begging, pleading, groveling for whatever he has to give. The vampire spawn, completely and thoroughly tamed by his monster hunter.

Astarion leans up hesitantly, laves his tongue over the bite marks he’d left on his lover early that morning. They’re still bruised but beginning to close over, Wyll deliberately forgoing a healing potion so that everyone could see. He quite liked the world knowing that the malicious little vampire that stalked the shadows of the training grounds was his. That he fed him, he satisfied him, he took care of every one of his needs. Wyll would preen like a peacock when his brothers in arms would rib him about the marks. He never divulged a single detail of their sex life—let all the rumors do the talking. But Astarion knows just how much the intrigue it aroused fluffed his ego.

It’s why he pricks his teeth against the slowly healing punctures and whines, needy even to his own ears. Wyll’s hand moves from his hip to hold the back of his head, cradling him lovingly against his neck to grant permission.

He bites down immediately. His mouth is flooded with the heavy, thick flavor of ecstasy. The heat builds in two places in his stomach now, reaching a boiling point. He is close to the meltdown, release hurtling towards him like an inferno. He embraces it all the same, swallowing his monster hunter's blood greedily in service of his own pleasure. He takes one mouthful and moans as he feels hotness of it rush through him, another and it’s all he needs to finally catch up to his orgasm, spilling messily over Wyll’s hand and his own exposed belly. He only pulls off to moan, eyes rolling and vocal chords overworked as he shouts his man's praises. It’s the closest they’ve ever gotten to coming together because Wyll tumbles after him quickly after—pumping once, twice more before his hips stutter in a broken staccato and he's painting Astarion's insides with a throaty groan.

When they lay in the post-coital haze, Wyll slumped over Astarion and Astarion thrumming both with the man’s blood and mind-blowing orgasm, he can’t help but give a delirious little giggle. High and musical, shot through with all the mischievousness he still has.

Wyll doesn’t have the energy to lift his head up, but he does give a muffled, “What is it?” into the other man's sweat-drenched locks.

“Now your armor is going to have stains in the knees.”

A weary sigh from the man above him. He hadn’t been planning on laundering his armor just yet—usually, he put it off to do it alongside the recruits. Something about morale and camaraderie that Astarion didn’t care about. “I know. You’re a bad influence.”

A remorseless snort. “Oh, darling, aren’t I absolutely incorrigible? You should probably do something about that.”

“Mm. Yeah,” Wyll kisses his neck sweetly, tone noncommittal. “but then where would the fun be in that?”

[hurlumerlu]

The waiting game.

A short THK fanfic (AO3)

Kant had winked before his jump.

He had looked pitiful, barefoot in his hospital gown, so out of place on the deck of the boat, and about ready to piss himself – but he had winked. As if he couldn’t leave Bison without giving him one last crumb of connivance, one last we’re gonna be fine. All this had told Bison was that Kant wasn’t so sure of it himself.

Bison hadn’t rushed to the side of the boat, nor watched the waters for a sign, and he certainly hadn’t dived in. He had stuck to the plan – Kant’s plan – and fled the fast-arriving cops.

"Relax", Kant had said on the drive from the hospital. "Kidnapping me was the hardest part."

Alone now, in another car, Bison begs to differ.

But no need for dramatics. Kant’s a great swimmer, and greater yet at getting out of a bind. He had spent an evening demonstrating this skill very literally, back when Bison still thought it was all just games, and it had taken some real creativity to keep him tied-up. It had been worth it, then, to see the confidence give way to frustration, to helplessness, to pleasure.

It’s worth far more now.

Sure, there’s a difference between freeing yourself to show off in bed, and doing the same thing underwater. Panic makes you clumsy and dumb. But Kant’s steady under pressure, right? Even starring down the barrel of a gun, at the wrong end of Bison’s wrath, he had kept his head. One life-threatening situation’s the same as another, Kant would say if he was here.

Then he would add something like "the sea’s got nothing on you, my love", with sly bedroom-eyes, and Bison would bury his fingers in his man’s hair and pull, hard, until – hmm. Maybe not that. Kant would be at the wheel.

Bison would say "you’re going to stop the car" and Kant would only hum, but he’d already be looking for a place to pull over, and when Bison would specify "if you know what’s good for you" he would get that slow widening smile, anticipatory and provocative, and – fuck, Bison hates driving.

Hates it now more than ever, in this busted car on these busted roads with a busted radio, and nothing but the cloying, cloying silence.

The safe house is empty when he arrives, like he knew it would be. Bison had to evade patrols, he took a number of detours and bumpy, winding paths, but Kant will likely have to come on foot, and before that he’ll need to reach one of their supply caches – he also warned that the captain was a canny old bastard and might not be convinced by Kant’s showy execution.

For all Bison knows, Kant is still waiting for the coast to clear.

He could also have gotten lost. He had assured he wouldn’t, that he knew the area well , but every word out of his mouth is a trust exercise, so...

The safe house is empty. Bison was not hoping he’d find Kant there.

He inspects the premises on autopilot. Anyone good enough to locate the place would have shot or arrested him the second he appeared, but Fadel would bitch about complacency, and he’d be right. Bison will have all the time in the world to become slow and unguarded once they’ve all regrouped outside the country.

He can’t grow careless so close to the finish line.

There’s nothing for him to do, here. Fadel would be working on straightening the bathroom cabinet’s door, or fixing the kitchen’s window screen, but Bison doesn’t even know how to try. There’s not much he’s good at besides murder, and nothing that would help now. He’s a decent bowler, a terrific dart thrower, pretty alright with young children. He’s learned basic first aid. He’s a competent waiter and his English’s serviceable. His flirting gets results, though in many cases just looking willing is enough. Mostly, he’s good at killing time.

Usually.

He could clean his gun. He’s already done it twice, and by now all it would do is open the possibility for mistakes in the reassembling, but he could clean his gun.

He doesn’t. Puts it on the coffee table, next to the burner phone that isn’t getting any signal. Bison knew what to expect. They talked about this, he and Fadel, agreed not to contact each other before the end of the week. Everything is going as it’s supposed to.

Any minute now, Kant will walk through the door, grumbling about the heat, or bug bites, or both. Bison will get up slowly from the couch, not daring to let himself believe, but there will be no denying it once they come face to face. He won’t even try to hide his relief.

Kant will get that look, the smug knowing one, with the raised eyebrows and downturned mouth that together form a smile, and Bison will cross the room, press himself against Kant’s salt-smelling clothes and burrow, burrow, burrow, until he’s home.

Any minute now.

[upismediacenter]

FEATURE: More than just a game: The impact of sports on student life

Think sports are just about winning and losing? Think again. Sports are a hidden gem in student life, offering lessons that extend far beyond the playing field. The long hours of practice, the pressure to perform, and the balancing act between school and athletics requires student-athletes to deal with various challenges. These moments of growth translate into real-world skills, helping students navigate life's challenges with confidence.

Character Growth Through Athletic Participation

Sports demand a high level of commitment, cultivating perseverance and self-discipline. Through rigorous training and competitive events, students learn to manage their time, set goals, and work as a team.

When asked how being part of a sports team has shaped their personal development, these UPIS student-athletes shared valuable insights.

Joining the UPIS Girls Volleyball Team proved to be a turning point for Trisha Leguiab, who found that being part of a team helped her overcome one of her biggest personal challenges—socializing. Through countless practices and shared experiences with her teammates, she slowly became more comfortable in group settings. “My fear of socializing with people dissipated gradually after spending years training with the team,” she reflects. However, she still grappled with comparing herself to others and the pressure to constantly improve.

Involvement in sports had a different impact on Faye Obaña, captain of the UPIS Table Tennis Team. For her, it was a journey of learning accountability and mental resilience. “I learned that responsibility comes with everything, and you shouldn’t let negativity take you out of the zone,” she explains. This shift helped Faye cultivate her confidence and prioritize her own well-being, regardless of outside opinions.

For Joannah Aguinaldo, the captain of the UPIS Pep Squad, sports are an avenue for developing essential life skills. “Being part of a sports team improved my time management, leadership, and communication skills,” she shares. Joannah also acknowledges how her involvement opened doors to diverse experiences and interactions with people from various walks of life, something she may not have encountered outside of athletics.

These student-athletes demonstrate how participation in sports can profoundly shape character, resilience, and personal growth. Beyond physical fitness, the lessons learned—teamwork, discipline, and self-awareness—equip students to face life’s challenges.

Balancing Academics and Athletics

The relationship between sports and academic performance is complex. The direct impact on grades varies as some students may find that the discipline and time management required in sports enhance their focus in academics, while others may struggle to balance the demands of both commitments.

In response to inquiries about how her academic performance had changed since joining a sports team, Trisha observed that her grades remained relatively consistent. Though sports didn’t directly affect her academic performance, the impact on her routine was undeniable. “Comparing my grades before and after I joined the team, I would say that the sport had surprisingly no effect whatsoever on my academics. My grades were in the same range as before, but what I've noticed is that my eyebags were getting bigger because I was losing sleep. Even though I'd managed to keep my grades stable, I had to pull all-nighters multiple times a week because our trainings would end at night, which gave me less time to do my homework and study for my quizzes. I also developed an unhealthy habit of cramming because of this.”

On the other hand, Faye’s experience with balancing sports and academics led her to become more disciplined. She shared, “I became more conscious about schoolwork and made sure to finish my assignments before heading to training.” This shift in focus helped her manage her responsibilities more effectively, ensuring that neither her studies nor her athletic commitments were compromised.

Similarly, Joannah found that the demands of sports pushed her to improve her academic habits. She explained how dedicating time to both training and games encouraged her to adapt smarter study strategies: “My study habits and consequently, my academic performance have improved ever since I started playing sports. Dedicating most of my time to trainings and games, I needed to find ways to study smarter so that my sport wouldn't get in the way of my academics,” Joannah stated. Her experience reflects how sports can also help instill better time management and efficiency in student-athletes.

These accounts highlight the diverse experiences student-athletes face. While others may struggle with adjusting their schedule at first, others find that the structure of sports pushes them to focus more on their academics. The key takeaway is the importance of finding strategies to balance both passions.

Sports as a Catalyst for Social Skills

Being part of a sports team fosters essential social skills, such as leadership, cooperation, and communication. Each athlete reflected on how sports helped them form connections and develop socially.

Trisha spoke about the bonds she formed through volleyball, emphasizing how the team became a second family to her. For her, being part of the team wasn't just about playing the sport but about forming lasting relationships. “If I hadn't passed the tryouts for the volleyball team, I wouldn't have met my teammates, especially those from the lower batches. As the oldest in the team, I view them as my younger sisters and to be able to grow with them as a player and a person was an experience I would always be thankful for. I'm glad to have met this group of humorous, thoughtful, and loving people and to be able to spend the last years of my high school life here at UPIS with them.”

Reflecting on a pivotal moment during UAAP Season 86, Faye shared how she discovered a new found connection with herself: “I remember a game where I had a highlight play that felt incredible. During that moment, something clicked, and I realized how important confidence is to a person. Since then, I’ve started to cultivate confidence in everything I do. It’s not always easy, but I’m still working on it.”

Evaluating team dynamics, “There are members in our team who are quiet and aren't vocal, but through working together in our stunts and cheering together during games, we were able to help them open up and build more trust in the team,” Joannah observed how sports encouraged quieter members to come out of their shells.

These experiences show how sports create lasting connections, help students develop social skills, and encourage them to step outside their comfort zones. The bonds formed through shared challenges enhance both personal growth and teamwork.

The Impact of Sports on Mental Health and Stress Levels

The mental health benefits of sports are well-documented. Physical activity helps reduce stress and anxiety by releasing endorphins and providing an outlet for energy.

Opening up about her struggles as an athlete, Trisha shared a candid reflection on the difficulties she encountered along the way. Balancing the demands of being both a student and an athlete can take a toll, especially on one’s mental health. “I would say that being an athlete is hard, especially for my mental health. Aside from the class-training-study-sleep cycle, the constant pressure from myself and the training environment caused me to lose confidence in myself and what I can do. I developed an unhealthy way of thinking and started to shut others out while constantly blaming myself for my incompetence and lack of skill. Luckily, after talks with my family and friends, I began to regain my old self and be able to enjoy the sport again.” Her journey highlights the importance of support systems and self-reflection during challenging times.

The emotional rollercoaster of being a student-athlete presents both challenges and opportunities for growth. “There are definitely times when it’s exhausting, and I feel like giving up. Yet, there are also moments when sports helps me relax and reflect on everything going on in my life. It’s a balance that really depends on how I’m feeling at the moment. Overall, I can say it has helped me grow significantly, both as a person and an athlete,” Faye shared. 

Amidst the chaos of responsibilities, Joannah finds that incorporating movement into her routine helps manage the pressure. Reflecting on the benefits of physical activity, she remarked, “It's inevitable to be overwhelmed with all the responsibilities a student-athlete has lined up, but participating in sports allows me to incorporate movement into my routine, which is beneficial to my mental well-being. Aside from that, with my sport being a team sport, I'm able to destress whenever I'm doing what I love with my team.” 

While the pressures of sports can lead to stress and self-doubt, they can also create an environment in which athletes can receive emotional support from their teammates. This aspect of camaraderie, along with the opportunity for regular physical activity, may offer a way to address some of the challenges that arise from competitive participation. Engaging in sports can provide an outlet for managing pressure, contributing to a complex experience for student-athletes.

The Power of Inclusivity and Diversity in Sports

Sports can bridge gaps between students from diverse backgrounds and promote inclusivity in schools. Participating in team activities helps students appreciate and respect a range of perspectives and experiences.

The value of diverse perspectives within a team is crucial. As Trisha explains, “From the seniors to the juniors, you will have to play inside the court with people with values that may differ from yours. Playing alongside these people made me see things from a different perspective and helped me come out of my comfort zone.”

For Joannah, the dynamics of a large team bring both challenges and opportunities. With over 40 members in her team, she explains how this exposure has shaped her ability to adapt and interact with people of various backgrounds: “Being in a team that comprises more than 40 members, it's not a rare occurrence for us to meet new people. This exposure taught me how to connect with others who have different life experiences or viewpoints by understanding that not everyone we meet would get along and/or agree with us, and by being more open-minded as well with our differences.” Her insight highlights the importance of flexibility and openness when navigating diverse team dynamics.

These stories show how sports foster inclusivity, respect, and empathy. The connections formed within the team can transcend differences, fostering an environment where every individual is valued. In this way, sports become a platform for building community, encouraging students to embrace diversity and grow together.

The Journey Ahead

When asked what advice they would give to fellow students considering getting involved in sports, each athlete offered valuable insights drawn from their own experiences. 

For students, the decision to join a sport can be intimidating, but the rewards are often worth the effort. Trisha, for instance, emphasized the importance of stepping out of one’s comfort zone: “If you are interested in a sport, don't be afraid to pursue it and join for the tryouts. Yes, balancing academics and training is hard, but that does not mean it's impossible. Inside the team, you may meet people who will support your journey as an athlete and help you become the best version of yourself. You will experience hardships—but from those hardships, you'll be able to grow as a person who can overcome any hurdle life throws at them.”

Another important aspect of being a student-athlete is maintaining balance and building connections. “Be content with what you have. Try to make time for everything, especially your priorities. Don’t forget to connect with people. Building relationships is just as important as honing your athletic skills,” Faye shared. Her advice underscores that while sports are important, personal well-being and relationships are equally vital.

Meanwhile, Joannah focused on the advantages sports can bring to academic life, encouraging students to see athletics as a complementary experience. "Don't think about being a student-athlete as a disadvantage when it comes to your academics; think about it as another means to learn, develop, and gain experience that can be an advantage in academics and even in life." 

Participation in sports isn't limited to being an athlete; students can also engage by cheering for their teams and creating a supportive school environment. Embracing and supporting athletic programs not only enriches students' lives but also strengthens the broader school community, highlighting that sports are truly more than just a game.

//by Mira Leaño

[rpgsandbox]

Vault 5e: A Life Well Lived

Bring 5e characters to life outside the dungeon. Delve into their past and future with Cubicle 7

From the award-winning team that brought you award winning 5e Adventures in Middle-earth, Broken Weave, Uncharted Journeys  and Doctors and Daleks, comes A Life Well Lived! Bring your characters to life like never before with this game changing 5th edition supplement that explores what your adventurers get up to before, after, and in between dungeon crawling!

Every adventurer has a backstory, dreams for the future, and a life between adventures. All those amazing triumphs and disasters, and tender or tumultuous relationships are what makes our heroes feel like real people. A Life Well Lived brings your characters to life like never before. 

Take a deep dive into your character’s life before their adventuring days began. A richly detailed backstory complete with benefits and complications will forge the passions and connections that will bond your hero with the rest of the party. Allies and enemies spring from your story and enmesh you in the campaign world giving you an overwhelming purpose to see your quests through to the very end. 

Don’t hang around waiting for the old guy to stagger into the inn and die with a map in his hand! There’s a whole world of fun to be had between adventures. From pressing the flesh at high society parties, to weaving tall tales for villagers, or planning a meticulous heist —  and as this is your side-quest, you don’t have to split the loot five ways!

We created A Life Well Lived to bring our characters to life outside the dungeon. As players we get extremely attached to our characters, and want to explore a new side of them. Characters are more than just stats and numbers on a page, and A Life Well Lived allows us to delve deeper into the story behind our heroes in a way that seamlessly blends into the traditional gameplay of 5e and rewards the storytelling each player has within them.

A Life Well Lived is a companion to Cubicle 7’s Uncharted Journeys, and forthcoming C7D20 titles. These lovingly crafted volumes combine to enrich all pillars of 5e gameplay, and give you the tools and advice you need to tailor your game to the specific tabletop experience your heart desires. 

Our previous 5e games Doctors and Daleks, Adventures in Middle-earth, and Uncharted Journeys demonstrate how much we love designing richly thematic extensions to the 5e ruleset, and we are very proud of the many awards we’ve won for our work.

What's in the Book?

A Life Well Lived accompanies an adventurer throughout their life, from their humble origins through their heroic quest, and ultimately, if they’re lucky, their retirement from the dangerous path of adventure.

Create fully realised characters whose life experiences influence the skills they learn before the adventure begins. Give them a family to fight for, important experiences to treasure, a home worth defending, and more with Cubicle 7’s new Lifepath system. 

Return home and use our Downtime Activities to explore what your hero gets up to between adventures. Do you spend time preparing for the challenges ahead or grasp fleeting moments with friends and family? Do you have a business to run, or do you seek out work to earn a little extra coin? Maybe you have a masterwork weapon you’re working on or an old score you mean to settle?

Campcraft Activities let you enjoy the quiet moments around the campfire, as you share stories of the past, prepare for what is to come, and bond with your companions. 

Your Patron is a powerful ally who is the driving force behind your adventures. They may be a spymaster with access to dangerous secrets, or a stalwart champion of the divine who can heal wounds and return fallen friends to life. But beware, your Patron has enemies who may come at you to get to them. 

Hang up your sword and leave the adventuring life behind as you Retire, and see what life has in store for you after the swords and sorcery has in store for you… at least until trouble comes knocking once more, dragging you out of retirement and back into the action for one last adventure!

Kickstarter campaign ends: Tue, October 24 2023 1:00 PM BST

Website: [Cubicle 7] [facebook] [twitter] [instagram]

[clnme]

Sword Art Online (Episodes 10-12, 14)

I spent a lot of time in my last post connecting Sword Art Online to the reading, so for this one I'll go into the philosophical questions posed in the anime and attempt to answer them.

The main dilemma presented in Sword Art Online is the comparison between the fake and the real, which is personally one of my favorite themes. The first time I seriously thought about this topic was when watching Nisemonogatari, which goes into it in much greater depth. I've been heavily inspired by this video on the series, and I will be lifting many of its points for this post. There are two obvious positions:

The real thing inherently holds more value than the fake.

The fake is just as valuable as the real thing.

However, there is a third position, which was not as obvious to me: The fake holds more value than the real thing. Sounds like nonsense, right? Let's go through each of these positions together.

The real thing inherently holds more value than the fake. Most obviously, the fake commonly lacks some crucial aspect of the real, and thus makes it less valuable. However, even if the fake were a true copy of the authentic in all possible aspects, in attempting to deceive others into believing that the fake is real, the fake is evil and thus still inherently of lower value. Both of these ideas are addressed in Sword Art Online, and mostly represented in Asuna's original character. In Asuna's introduction, she scolds Kirito for napping in the sun instead of seriously focusing on clearing the game. In Asuna's eyes, every day spent in the game world is one that is lost in the real world. While Asuna grows past this viewpoint as the anime progresses, the point is brought up once more in episode 12, as Yui remembers that she is a program and hates herself for it. In emulating emotion instead of truly having it, Yui believes herself to be evil for deceiving Kirito and Asuna. As believers of the second point, Kirito and Asuna disagrees with Yui, and treats her as if she were real.

The fake is just as valuable as the real thing. This point comes from a position of appreciation the good qualities that the fake manages to have, instead of focusing on what it lacks. This position is the exact logical opposite of the first one, and focuses on the same topics from a different perspective. Further, this is the most common stance seen in media. Even though Yui is artificial and not a real person, Kirito and Asuna instead choose to focus on her good qualities. This is further represented in Kirito's character in general, as Kirito appreciates his life in the game world instead of worrying about returning to the real one. As mentioned briefly, Kirito was shown in the first few episodes to rest in the sun. Kirito reasons, "It's Aincrad's nicest season, and today is its nicest weather setting. Entering the dungeon on a day like this is a waste." This equality between real and virtual extends beyond just Sword Art Online's world. As virtual spaces become more sophisticated, we increasingly form genuine connections, learn real skills, and experience authentic emotions through digital mediums. However, this position raises complex questions: If we treat artificial experiences as equal to real ones, do we risk devaluing authentic experiences? Or does the artificial nature of something become irrelevant once it produces genuine effects on people's lives? This equality between real and virtual extends beyond just SAO's world. As virtual spaces become more sophisticated, they consistently demonstrate their ability to facilitate genuine connections, enable real skill development, and evoke authentic emotions. The artificial nature of the medium becomes secondary to its tangible effects on people's lives and relationships. This position asserts that the source of an experience, whether natural or artificial, matters less than its actual impact and meaning to those involved.

The fake holds more value than the real thing. This position can also be found in Sword Art Online, as this position is simply builds upon the last one. As early as episode 1, Kirito expresses the following opinion: "It's a virtual world, but I still feel more alive here than I do in the real one." Not only does Sword Art Online manage to replicate nearly every aspect of the real world, but it is also created as an idealized version of the real world. This is the most obvious argument of this position. Episode 11 spends most of its screen time exploring Kirito and Asuna's idealized life together, evening simulating a family together by caring for a child. The fact that they are living in a cabin in a small village surrounded by forests and large, beautiful lakes makes this obvious, as this is a scene that many people dream of living during their retirement. In the first place, video games are most commonly played for the sole reason of escaping the real world, as video games present a place that is more ideal than one's real life. Because the Sword Art Online game world is fake, it lacks the flaws in the real world that makes it difficult to live. As Kirito puts it in episode 5, "I kind of hate to admit it, but SAO's rules are essentially fair." This is definitely not seen in the real world. The less obvious argument that distinguishes this position from the second is the position's additional acknowledgement of the fake's efforts. The fake must work harder than the real thing just in order to meet the minimum requirement to appear similar to it. If a fake can do exactly what the real thing can, shouldn't it be considered more powerful? It's able to deceive you on whether it's real or fake while doing precisely what the real one can. This is the more interesting argument to me, however, it does not appear to be explicitly addressed in the anime. Consider that a convincing fake must not only replicate all aspects of the real, but also carefully craft its presentation to be accepted as authentic. This extra layer of sophistication, the ability to analyze, understand, and recreate reality, could be seen as an achievement surpassing the original. We see this concept reflected in how Sword Art Online's virtual world isn't just a copy of reality, but an enhanced version that enables experiences that are impossible in the real world. The artificial nature of the world becomes a feature rather than a flaw, allowing it to surpass the limitations of reality while maintaining its essential qualities.

So, what is the answer? What is the correct position? @niertiers brought up this question in their last blog post and came to the following conclusion: It does not actually matter. One can argue that by contemplating the similarities and differences between the real and the fake, you disregard both. This is due to the fact that you no longer care about the inherent qualities in either, but only their differences. This meta-perspective reveals an interesting paradox: in our attempt to determine the relative value of the real versus the fake, we create an artificial framework of comparison that itself distances us from both experiences. Sword Art Online demonstrates this fact strongly through the growth of the characters. Those who become too fixated on the game's artificial nature struggle to live within it, while those who accept their experiences at face value, whether real or virtual, often find more meaning and fulfillment. Perhaps the true value of both the real and the fake lies in our willingness to engage with them authentically, rather than through the lens of comparison.

If anyone watched episode 13, that boss fight reminded me of this game called Devil Daggers.

[vivirsmart]

My Journey to Becoming a Frontend Developer

In today’s fast paced digital world, frontend development has become the cornerstone of delivering exceptional user experiences. From seamless web app navigation to visually stunning interfaces, a frontend developer brings ideas to life.

Why I Want to Be a Frontend Developer and How HNG Will Help Me Achieve My Goals

My journey to becoming a frontend developer is fueled by a passion for creativity, problem solving, and the desire to create applications that users love. Joining HNG internship bootcamp as a frontend developer is the perfect opportunity to sharpen my skills and gain hands on experience while contributing to real world applications.

My Motivation for Becoming a Frontend Developer

Ever since I first interacted with web technologies, I’ve been fascinated by the magic of turning code into functional and beautiful interfaces. It’s amazing how a few lines of HTML, CSS, and JavaScript can create immersive websites and applications that millions of people rely on daily.

Another reason I gravitate toward frontend development is its user centric nature. I love the idea of creating intuitive and visually appealing designs that make people’s lives easier. I’m driven by the opportunity to make technology accessible and enjoyable for everyone.

How HNG Will Help Me Grow in the Field

The HNG internship bootcamp is a game changer for aspiring developers like me. One of the most significant challenges in the tech world is bridging the gap between theoretical knowledge and real world application. HNG provides the perfect platform to tackle this by immersing participants in a fast paced, project driven environment.

Here’s how I believe HNG will accelerate my growth:

Hands On Experience: HNG’s focus on building real life applications aligns perfectly with my goal to learn by doing. By collaborating with a team to tackle real world challenges, I will develop technical skills that can’t be learned in isolation.

Mentorship and Guidance: HNG’s experienced mentors will provide valuable insights and feedback, helping me refine my coding skills, improve my design thinking, and understand industry best practices.

Exposure to Modern Tools and Frameworks: The bootcamp emphasizes modern frontend technologies. This aligns with my goal of mastering the tools that drive innovation in the industry.

Networking Opportunities: Being part of a vibrant community of like minded developers and industry experts at HNG will expand my professional network and open doors for future opportunities.

My Goals for the Internship and How I Plan to Achieve Them

During my time at HNG, my primary goal is to become a finalist in the frontend track and I plan to achieve this through other key goals such as:

Master Frontend Fundamentals: I aim to strengthen my knowledge of HTML, CSS, JavaScript, and popular libraries like React. I plan to achieve this by actively participating in all coding sessions and tasks, seeking feedback, and consistently practicing.

Contribute to Real World Projects: One of my key goals is to contribute meaningfully to the applications we build at HNG. By collaborating with team mates, meeting deadlines, and embracing challenges, I hope to add value to every project as I move up the ladder.

Enhance Problem Solving Skills: Frontend development often involves debugging and optimizing code. I will approach every challenge as an opportunity to learn and improve my critical thinking.

Develop a Strong Portfolio: By the end of the internship, I want to have a portfolio showcasing my contributions to real world applications, demonstrating my skills to potential employers that require the service of an experienced JavaScript and React developer.

Conclusion

Becoming a frontend developer is not just a career choice for me, it’s a passion that aligns with my creative and technical interests. The HNG internship bootcamp provides a unique opportunity to accelerate my growth, gain hands on experience, and prepare for the dynamic world of frontend development. With a clear vision of my goals and a commitment to learning, I’m excited to embark on this journey and make the most of this incredible opportunity at HNG.

[im-just-noelfid]

Social Gaming: How is the Depiction of Friendships Beyond the Screen?

Introduction to Social Gaming and Friendships

Social gaming refers to a genre of video games that emphasizes interaction and collaboration among players, encompassing multiplayer games, massively multiplayer online games (MMOs), and cooperative (co-op) games. These platforms create immersive environments where individuals can connect, strategize, and compete together, fostering a sense of community and shared experience. As players engage in these interactive experiences, friendships often develop that extend beyond the digital realm, leading to meaningful relationships in real life. Through shared challenges and achievements, social gaming not only enhances the enjoyment of gameplay but also facilitates connections that can enrich players' social lives, demonstrating the powerful role that gaming can play in building lasting friendships.

How Friendships Form in Social Gaming

Friendships in social gaming often form through shared goals, as players collaborate to achieve common objectives, such as defeating a challenging boss or winning a competitive match. These collective efforts create strong bonds among players, as they rely on one another's skills and strategies to succeed. Frequent interactions during regular gameplay sessions further enhance these relationships, allowing trust and camaraderie to develop over time. Additionally, social gaming transcends barriers like geography, culture, and language, bringing together individuals from diverse backgrounds who might not otherwise connect. This inclusivity fosters a rich tapestry of interactions, enabling players to learn from one another and form friendships that can extend beyond the game itself, illustrating the unifying power of gaming in building meaningful connections.

Gaming as a Social Catalyst

Gaming serves as a powerful social catalyst, particularly for introverts or individuals with social anxiety, by providing a low-pressure environment where they can connect with others. In these virtual spaces, players can break the ice and engage in interactions without the immediate pressures often associated with face-to-face communication. Additionally, gaming facilitates cross-cultural exchange, allowing players to learn about different cultures and perspectives through collaboration with international teammates. This exposure fosters understanding and appreciation of diversity, enriching the gaming experience and broadening players' worldviews. Research supports the notion that online gaming environments can be socially accommodating, helping individuals develop social skills and build connections in a supportive setting (Kowert, R., Domahidi, E., & Quandt, T. 2014). Through these interactions, gaming not only enhances socialization but also promotes cultural awareness and empathy among players around the globe.

The Positive Impact of Gaming Friendships

In all according to the topics above, gaming friendships can have a profoundly positive impact on individuals, particularly in terms of providing emotional support and fostering a sense of community. Friends made through gaming often serve as a source of encouragement, helping one another navigate challenges and offering mental health support during difficult times. This emotional connection is vital, as it can mitigate feelings of loneliness and stress, allowing players to feel understood and valued. Additionally, the joy of celebrating milestones that is both in-game achievements and personal life events further strengthens these bonds. Sharing these moments of success creates a sense of camaraderie and belonging that enhances the overall gaming experience. Research indicates that gaming-related friendships can significantly contribute to emotional well-being, illustrating the importance of these connections in both virtual and real-world contexts (Fishman, A. 2023).

Challenges in Transitioning Gaming Friendships to Real Life

However, transitioning gaming friendships to real life can present several challenges that may complicate the process of deepening these connections. One significant hurdle is trust issues; the uncertainty surrounding meeting online friends in person for the first time can lead to anxiety and hesitation, as individuals may question the authenticity of their virtual relationships. Additionally, logistical barriers such as distance, time zones, and financial constraints can hinder in-person interactions, making it difficult for friends to coordinate meetups. These factors can create a sense of frustration or disappointment for those eager to solidify their friendships outside of the gaming environment. Despite these challenges, many gamers continue to seek ways to bridge the gap, often finding creative solutions to meet and connect in person, thereby enriching their friendships and enhancing their overall social experience.

Conclusion

In conclusion, gaming has evolved from a solitary activity into a vibrant social phenomenon that fosters meaningful connections among players. These relationships enrich players' lives both online and offline, providing emotional support, shared experiences, and a sense of belonging. By highlighting the transformative power of social gaming, it becomes clear that these digital interactions transcend the virtual realm, leading to real-world friendships and lifelong connections that enhance the overall gaming experience.

Kowert, R., Domahidi, E., & Quandt, T. (2014). The Relationship Between Online Video Game Involvement and Gaming-Related Friendships Among Emotionally Sensitive Individuals. Cyberpsychology, Behavior, and Social Networking, 17(7), 447–453. https://doi.org/10.1089/cyber.2013.0656

Fishman, A. (2023). Video Games Are Social Spaces: How Video Games Help People Connect | ResponseCenter. Jcfs.org. https://www.jcfs.org/response/blog/video-games-are-social-spaces-how-video-games-help-people-connect

[frostise]

8. How do you view people without any superpowers? / 9. What was the most creative application of your ability?

𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒   ┇   accepting ♡

8. How do you view people without any superpowers?

in the early days of killer frost, she didn't respect non-metahumans for a long time. they were easy to squander and it quickly became boring to hunt/strike them down because the results were too predictable but she did learn to make due by making the chases last longer than necessary. it worked for awhile. there's been a lot of interrogation techniques and tricks used in those hunts. the most prominent one being—she would play pretend by making her target feel like they got away when in reality they never stood a chance or she'll intentionally 'miss' a shot just to install hope into their victim.

humans were a speck to be discarded and used to her own disposal during missions but if their intelligence was high? she can learn to respect them. that's what makes most fights fun. powerless people who can survive her attacks and outsmart her mind games fuelled her sadism because it was a real competition that required skill, time and effort. it would both surprise and trigger frost's curiosity which means bad news to anyone who survived. back then—it was uncommon to deem humans as threats to metahumans unless they were insanely smart. that's when the tables were flipped. frost doesn't have to hold back anymore or suffer from the dissatisfaction of the murder afterwards.

9. What was the most creative application of your ability?

i'll put out a tiny list for you because i can't pick a favourite canon/headcanon:

it's implied louise can drain the sun and cause earth to be damned in darkness. realistically though, she would die doing this because if she chose to live in the sun where would she get her food or water from?

louise's heat absorption is limitless. she can drain life and freeze them at will. most of her victims tend to end up looking like a raisin and have the appearance of fast ageing when that's not the case. she can also drain her own body heat which makes her extremely dizzy but with months/years of practise she was able to make her heart stop and play dead to avoid detection from heat signature scans

there was this comic that demonstrated how disturbing her powers can be. KF made an icy-like wheel with chained hostages, froze them and used their corpses as ice shards. the colours from her victims would turn from blue to a sickly brown. never red since she froze their blood completely

louise can get overheated without suffering from the side effects and possibly uses this to burn people or anything that's not heat-resistant. imagine a red hot knife. she's that red hot knife and it takes a tremendous level of heat to be that way so it's not a power she often gets the chance to use

[skillyantra]

Scrum Master Certification for Career Growth

If you've been considering a career transition into Agile or enhancing your existing job in project management, there's a high likelihood you've heard the phrase Scrum Master more than a few times. But what exactly does it entail? Should you pursue a Scrum Master certification? And where do you begin when you're located in an IT hub like Chennai?

 First, What’s the Scrum Master Meaning?

Let's not make this too complicated. The Scrum Master meaning is easy — they're the ones who keep Agile teams running smoothly. Imagine them as facilitators, not managers. They facilitate teams to work together, eliminate obstacles, and ensure everyone follows the Scrum framework.

No, they're not coding or designing—they're leading from behind, ensuring the work gets done without mayhem.

If you're a natural communicator, problem-solver, and team player, then this could be the ideal job for you.

Do You Really Need a Scrum Master Certification?

Now onto the major question: is it worth the time and effort to get a Scrum Master certification?

Hands-down—especially if you're committed to creating a collaborative future in Agile environments. Certification is your golden ticket to being taken seriously by employers. It demonstrates not only that you know the theory, but that you can actually manage Agile teams and processes.

Many companies are no longer shortlisting resumes without it.

So be it a project manager, developer, QA tester, or even a fresher, this certification unlocks doors that you didn't even know existed.

 What Does a Scrum Master Job Look Like?

You may be asking yourself, "Alright, I understand what a Scrum Master does, but what's the daily grind like?" 

A typical Scrum Master role entails:

Coordinating daily stand-up meetings

Facilitating teams to work more effectively

Shielding the team from external distractions

Coaching team members on Agile best practices

And surprise, surprise. The demand is genuine. Be it IT, fintech, healthcare, or retail, every contemporary business needs someone to maintain the momentum of projects. Particularly in places like Chennai, where technology firms never stop recruiting.

The Scrum Master job market is on the rise, and certified individuals tend to get hired with salaries between ₹8–15 LPA (and more with experience).

How to Choose the Right Scrum Master Course

Not all courses are equal. Selecting the best Scrum Master course is as crucial as choosing to take the certification in the first instance.

Here's what you need to look for:

Live sessions with actual experts and not recorded lectures

Interactive learning accompanied by practical assignments

Doubt clearing sessions and actual life Agile scenarios

Certification preparation that actually prepares you for the exam

Placement support or at least job help

Need a suggestion? If you happen to be in India—particularly in Chennai—try Skill Yantra. Their best Scrum Master training isn't merely an assertion, it's substantiated by their achievements.

Why Skill Yantra is the Best for Scrum Master Training

Okay, let’s talk about Skill Yantra for a minute—because they’re not just another training institute.

Here's why they stand out:

✔️ Industry Trainers: They bring in certified Scrum professionals who’ve worked in the real world.

✔️ Hands-on Learning: You don’t just learn theory; you apply it in mock sprints and real case studies.

✔️ Corporate Training Expertise: Skill Yantra isn’t new to the game—they’ve trained teams in leading MNCs.

✔️ Placement Support: From resume help to mock interviews, they support your career goals.

✔️ Flexible Batches: Weekday, weekend, and online options are all available.

Their Chennai center is particularly popular for Agile and Scrum Master course enrollments because the city has a strong IT presence—and many companies here hire directly from their talent pool.

Whether you're a professional looking to upgrade or a fresher wanting a head start, Skill Yantra offers the best Scrum Master training with real-world value.

Who Can Take a Scrum Master Course?

One of the best things about this job? You don't have to have a coding background.

The Scrum Master training is perfect for:

Project Managers (particularly those transitioning from Waterfall to Agile)

Software Developers and Testers

Product Owners

Team Leaders or Scrum Team Members

Even recent graduates with good communication skills

If you enjoy people, problem-solving, and order—you're halfway there.

The Future of Scrum Master Roles

The online world is just growing bigger, and with that comes the demand for disciplined Agile leadership. That's right, the Scrum Master role isn't going away—if anything, it's becoming more and more important.

Startups, enterprises, they all need someone who grasps Agile frameworks and will make sure the team is delivering value sprint after sprint.

A reputable Scrum Master certification along with experience from a hands-on Scrum Master course is your recipe for sustained success.

✅ Conclusion

To summarize: if you're looking to pursue Agile careers, Scrum Master Meaning isn't a euphemism—it's a job that creates tangible value. A legitimate Scrum Master certification, proper Scrum Master training, and enthusiasm for collaboration can get you your ideal Scrum Master position in a snap.

connect@skillyantra.com

+91-9611796309