With pure luck and a crappy costume, I met my significant other at a sci-fi convention. Our relationship blossomed around our shared passion for nerdy things, and we got engaged at WonderCon. Thus started our next adventure: Planning, and paying for, a wedding. Surprisingly, Diablo played a big role in the process.
I'm leaning against a tree. The back of my shirt is beginning to itch and my palms are sweaty. It's a humid August day, but on our ride home he insisted we stop.
You play games, but your significant other does not. It's a common scenario that can be a point of contention in an otherwise healthy relationship. To relax after work, you load up Overwatch on the living room Xbox. Your beau, on the other hand, wants to cook dinner with you. An hour watching you gun down virtual enemies is, to them, the definition of boring — even disrespectful of their time.
I looked into my girlfriend's eyes as I reached out to gently touch her face. In that moment, I felt something. A rush of warmth from my head to my toes. Comfort. Contentment. It should be noted that my girlfriend was, at the time, a floating ball robot.
Games have — to put it mildly — a weird approach to love. But love is weird in real-life too. In time for Valentine's Day, this is a celebration of video game romance in all its strange, stalkery, even inter-species forms. Enjoy — and maybe don't try them out in real life.
Three and a half years ago, Stevie Kopas bought an uneccesary second copy of BioShock from GameStop as an excuse to talk to the guy behind the counter. This weekend that guy gave her a third copy, but what was inside was much better than a video game.
Redditor ne1butu found this sign in Wolfenstein: The New Order, that shows the lengthy process of finding a mate in the alternate world where the Nazis won WWII.
If you're interested in the new 3DS strategy game Fire Emblem: Awakening, you've probably heard two things about it: First, that if a character dies in battle, they're gone for good. Second, that characters can fall in love and marry one another.
I like to say that the couple that games together, stays together. I'm not alone in that sentiment, either. I'm sure there are lots of couples who integrate gaming into their day-to-day interactions and manage to get along just fine. But just because I like to say it... well, that doesn't make the statement true. Unfortunately, I only know this through first-hand experience.
The folks at Online University have put together some statistics about gaming and online dating, and it seems like (surprise!) gaming could be a great way to meet single guys. Plus, as the graphic points out, "Battling demons and trolls with a girl is a bigger rush than grabbing coffee with her."
I was going to title this post "The Romance and Enchantment of Rift's In-Game Marriage System Makes Me Throw Up a Little in My Mouth", but that's far too long, and while spoil the cake?
There's the stereotype of the online gamer as an angry shut-in, using the anonymity of the internet to grief anyone in earshot. Especially, it seems, the women who dare enter an FPS lobby.
You've heard Catherine's premise already: Commitment-phobic, indecisive Vincent must choose between marriage to longtime girlfriend, Katherine, and the allure of a sexy affair with a younger girl, Catherine. You already know is it's bizarre and surreal, and that the narrative's interspersed with tough puzzles.
Alyssa Bereznak is making us females look bad. I'm ashamed on behalf of our sex that she said those bitchy things. In her article, she accuses a world champion of Magic: The Gathering of being a liar and a creep. In reality, her predatory and trollish behaviour makes her the creepy one.
Mass Effect developer Casey Hudson's announcement less than a day ago that same-sex romances would be given fuller and more explicit articulation in Mass Effect 3 has unsurprisingly ignited a spark among many followers of the franchise.
