#This is what I think about while thinking about how everyday Andromeda approaches us to crash with our galaxy and create Milkomeda ;-;

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I probably drew this while being in a dark place.

[orphicrose]

The Only One

Rick x Reader Fanfiction

Summary : life is strange in the rick and morty universe, as we all know. But things get just that little bit weirder when Rick meets you. Something seems oddly familiar with you, but for once In his life he has no idea why. So he searches from reality to reality to try and see if he had met another version of you, only to realise there where none. You where the only one. That’s when it finally hit him…

This is inspired by a song from Rick and morty that I think is beautiful https://youtu.be/epiOcz3HXNo

I accidentally got carried away and wrote too much, so I will probably just do a part 2 so it’s not to much to read if anyone is interested <3

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Humans are such fragile creatures, always have been and always will be. You knew that, but you refused to surrender down to it. Not wanting to be included In whatever earth had to offer, so you ran away. And not like how a silly fourteen years old runs away from home, Hah… no.

You left the fucking planet, not leaving behind a single trail or speck of dust for someone to follow you with. Your intelligence and ambition was all you needed to carry yourself through life. Travelling the infinite void of space, soon making a name for yourself. For good and for bad. An ordinary person couldnt even dream nor comprehend the things you’ve experienced or seen. And that’s just how you liked it. Being different. It was truly a gift to be intelligent.

And then there was rick, high IQ and normally not happy about it. Seeing his intelligence as a curse. Rick hadn’t seen it all, it was impossible, but he thought he had seen enough to make a valid opinion on life.

It’s pointless.

Such a bitter man with a bitter view on everything, including himself. You see, when you have an overwhelming amount of knowledge weighing down on your mind, you can go two ways. The first being ricks way, not caring about anything since he has seen how big the universe is and doesn’t see a point.

Then there’s your way, feeling blessed to be able to see things that no one else can, and finding a new reason to live every single day.

You two where polar opposites, but also the same. You where both alone in a universe you felt didn’t need you anymore.

The day both of your worlds collided should have been written down in the history books. It was the day both of your beliefs where almost questioned. Wondering whether fate really does exist.

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Out of the many things you have done, you’ve never visited the same place twice. Making everyday an adventure, as much of a cliche as that sounds it’s true. Not only that, but you seem to have people after you almost everywhere. For your intelligence, or for revenge. But there is one particular spot you cannot get enough of. Finding yourself there when you lose yourself.

It’s an isolated planet in the middle of the andromeda galaxy. It’s a newly ‘emerging moon’ as you like to call it. In fact, you pretty much founded this planet, since its a recent creation. This also means there is no intelligent life yet evolved, so it is safe for you to do what you please.

You go there often, to watch the two suns set over its small horizon and the thousands of stars come into view. Giving you time to reflect on your life. To appreciate it, but not to regret anything. The stars are far to beautiful to bring your mind to anything negative. The planet itself seems to project the meaning of peace and tranquillity even without life. Maybe that’s why it’s so comforting.

Your thoughts where leaving your mind, as you held your eyes closed. Feeling the breeze brush through your hair gently. That beautiful, genuine smile found its way to your face without you noticing. You where to lost in the feeling of relaxation.

But that soon came to an end. That euphoric state was snapped out of you when you noticed a bright light coming towards you. Getting bigger and bigger in just seconds. Until it became more clear, it was a spacecraft of some sort. A poorly built one to say the least. You sat and watched, mesmerised, as the flames from the object slowly engulfed it. Burning in the atmosphere. Finally hitting the ground, you shook your head and sighed. Being brought back into reality.

The flames took a second to fade after the ship had crashed. And it was clearer to see, it was the stereotypical UFO. The type you’d see in cheesy ski-fi films. But it had encryptions written in English. Which was very unusual, especially for it to be in this part of the galaxy.

What was even stranger was that it didn’t have even the slightest burn mark to it’s metal. Your vision of it became clearer and clearer the closer you got, slowly creeping past the incredibly green trees towards it. But just before you got too close, a figure fell out of the vehicle. Swearing like a drunken sailor.

This is what really messed with you, it was a human. You gasped quietly, not being able to remember the last time you saw one. A mix of feelings rushed over you; confusion, fear, excitement? You couldn’t help but stare, his unique blue hair bounced as he picked himself up, not even bothering to dust off the dirt on his lab coat.

“Fuck! You fucking piece of shit spacecraft. You’ve really done it this time Rick you fucking…” he didn’t finish his sentence, as he kicked the lump of metal. Screaming at the top of his voice.

“Fuck!”

You caught a small glimpse of his face, and recognised him. But you weren’t sure where from. You had met millions of people over the years so he could really be anyone. But there was something so compelling about his character. Something that felt like you where being pushed towards him. Or pulled, by a red string perhaps. Something that was just telling you to interact with him.

You stayed hidden behind a rather tall tree, still collecting your thoughts and questioning whether you should help him. Rick had slumped himself against the ship, putting his hands to his face and grunting. Pausing his breakdown for a second to take a sip from his flask, then proceeding to carry on.

He stayed like this for a good few minutes, before you had decided to approach him. Your curiosity and questions where burning at the edge of your mind. You just had to investigate. Keeping a hand on your weapon tucked neatly in a pocket behind your back. You slowly walked towards him, not even being able to speak before he noticed you.

A gun had been pulled to you, aiming directly between your eyes

“What do you want? I’m not in the mood so just tell me in advance if I should shoot you or not..” his eyebrows furrowed, looking at the hand tucked behind your back.

You rolled your eyes, putting your hands up in surrender. Just how you remembered humans to be. Aggressive and impulsive.

“Calm down, I saw your ship crash. Thought you where in need of some assistance. And put that gun down, god…” to your surprise, he did. With a loud grunt he put his gun back into his pocket and turned away. Usually, he probably would’ve shot on site. And who’s to say he still won’t, but right in this moment he is too preoccupied to care.

“God doesn’t fucking exist…” he mumbled “and I definitely don’t need any assistance!”

You raised an eyebrow at him, watching him as he attempted to fix his broken ship. Opening the lid to the engine and being greeted by a storm of smoke. Now Seconds away from another breakdown.

“Are you… okay?” You hesitantly asked, daring to inch closer to him. Probably was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. He threw the wrench down at the engine as he exploded.

“No, I’m not fucking okay. I lost my grandson, the entire galactic government is after me, I broke my portal gun and I just crashed my ship into a planet with no helpful resources to fix it.!” His speech sped up, and he went dead silent when he stopped talking. Clearly regretting telling you anything. He is usually good at keeping his mind together and keeping his problems to himself. But he had so much adrenaline pumping through his blood, he could barely concentrate.

“I’m, i’m sorry for your loss” is all you managed to get out

“What? Oh no, my grandsons not dead. I just left him somewhere and forgot exactly where…” he spoke slightly softer, still grunting as he tried to analyse his engine.

There was a small silence while you processed everything he had just said. Moving closer to get a look at his engine, you shook your head.

“You’ve burnt it out…”

“Yeah, no shit smart ass” he bit at you

You rolled your eyes and snatched the spanner from the place he had dropped it. Not using it to fix his engine, but you pulled out a small metal box from your pocket instead. Fixing a few pieces together. Rick stood there and watched with a puzzled look on his face. Moving his eyes from the gadget, then up to get a look at you.

His eyebrows softened as he took in your features, the creases in his forehead disappeared. A rush of a strange feeling replaced the adrenaline, not being able to pinpoint what it was but he didn’t like it. He could only describe it as his heart softening, and getting lost in a place that was familiar to him. Thats what he felt when he looked at your eyes, reflecting off of his.

“Hav-have we met before?” He said in a much calmer tone

You placed the gadget on the engine and pressed a small red button on the top, looking up at him.

“I don’t think so?” The box moved around the engine, like a shield. Fixing it effortlessly, Ricks eyes darted from you, to the engine, then back to you. Now with amazement written all over his face.

Deja vu was the only state good enough to describe what he was experiencing. You broke the silence by holding a hand out to introduce yourself.

“I’m y/n”

It took a quick second for him to respond, still trying to process your face and remember how he knows you.

“I’m… Rick” he finally shook your hand.

“Rick Sanchez..”

That name was oddly familiar to you. Like you’d heard it in a dream. Or it was a loved ones name in a past life. You felt like you had heard it before, in a very distant memory. But no recollection of the connection.

“That seems…familiar” you tilted your head, squinting your eyes at the old man who gave you the same look.

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew me. I am the smartest man In the universe”

[muresetivoire]

Moony × Reader

Word count: 3577 words

Genre/Warnings: Fluff/Angst

If you want you can check out some more on wattpad (:

As I ran along the corridor, late for class, I bumped into someone with a loud ouch. "I'm so sorry" "Hey its no problem, let me help you," a soft voice responded. As I reached for my potions home work, a hand brushed mine. Remus John Lupin, my rival. The only person who's intelligence rivaled mine. The person who makes my life living hell. The sweetest gum-drop to everyone, loved by all. However, I'm not "all."

"Y/N?" he asked, looking at you with those big brown eyes. "I'm fine Lupin," I respond as I grab my book from his hand. "At least let me-" "I said I'm fine." He slowly gets up, and offers me a hand. I huff and shove it as I stand. "You know I was only trying to help y-" "I'll see you in class Lupin," and with that I storm off, leaving a very confused boy.

Now you're probably wondering, what makes one hate Remus Lupin, the sweetest guy, the glory of the marauders. Well let me tell you, not much.

My mother and his were the very best of friends, there by, we became best friends. Every holiday, every weekend, every opportunity we got, we were at the Lupins. Remus and I grew close. He shared his love for reading with me, a love I always had but never felt so confidence to share with him. From fantasy to romance, I read it all, but I never shared it with him. The vulnerability I felt knowing he'd see what I enjoyed, what I loved, what I wanted, it was too much. His mum told my mum about his "illness." He thought himself a freak, a monster. He would cry about it, the pain he felt, the embarrassment of scars. To me, he was all but an angel sent from heaven, beautiful and pure.

Before we began Hogwarts, we made a promise to never leave each other's sides, to remain best of friends, no matter the houses or the circumstances. As it turned out, we weren't sorted in the same house. Everyone was shocked knowing that studious Remus was sorted in Gryffindor while me, odd-ball and awkward, was sorted in Ravenclaw. At first we were both shocked, but we kept the promise.

Until one faithful day.

Now while I never shared my love for reading with him, I did share everything else. My love for baking, knitting and potions, you name it, he knew. We shared our darkest secrets with each other. He shared his insecurities about his scars, and me my insecurity about being "fat." We made plans to open a book/tea shop, he would supply the books and I the tea, obviously. He knew everything about me, except for my reading and I knew everything about him. And for that, I loved him, but he never loved me.

In the beginning of the first year in Hogwarts, in the middle of a potions class, we were presented with amortentia. Why we were presented with such a complex potion at such a young age, I couldn't tell you. Perhaps Professor Slughorn was feeling cheeky. I smelt him in it. I smelt the soft worn out pages of the books that he read, I smelt the roses he always grew, his chocolate he always carried and something entirely him. After class, we met at the lake, our place where we'd meet and study. As I approached him, he seemed really tired, as usual, and something I thought I never imagined he would posses, anger, raw and bitter anger.

"Hey Rem, you alright?" He turned to me with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. "Rem oh Gods, whats wrong?" I rushed towards him and slowly wiped his tears away. "Talk to me, please," I asked softly while I wiped all evidence of tears. He looked up at me, those beautiful kind eyes, eyes that held so much emotion but always the best ones. "I don't want to talk about it," he said batting my hands away. I awkwardly fixed my glasses, "Okay well whenever you're ready, you want to start studying for our potions exam?" I began to unpack my bag when he got up, fuming. "You know what, yeah I do want to talk about it" I sat up, completely confused. "Remus?" "Y/N how is it, the one person, the one person who hates reading, detests it, passes every exam without fail? And not just passes, but tops every class. How?"

I sat there gaping, "Well I-" "Don't lie to me, don't you dare." I stood up, a feeling of anger consuming me. "What do you mean Remus? I study just like you, just like everyone." He grunted and groaned, "Stop lying to me," he screamed, "I read everyday, I study all the time, and yet you, you get all the awards, all the academic glory" I feel myself begin to heat up and tears begin to form, tears I begged not to fall. "What do you want me to say Remus? That I cheat? That- That I use spells to make me remember? Is that what you want to hear?" He stares at me, his gaze hardening. "I'll give you one chance, and one chance only, tell me the truth." I step back, gaping, confused. "I already told you Remus, I do the same as you, I study." He looks to me and says in a tone I never believed he could conjure, "Fine, if that's what you want to tell me, don't talk to me at all." "Remus you can't be serious." The tears I tried my best to hold, began to spill furiously as his words made me crumble. "Y/N, I don't ever want to talk to you, I don't want to see you, I don't want to study with you and I sure as hell-" "I smelt you in the amortentia today," I blurt surprising myself. "You what?" "I smelt you, the chocolate, the roses, your books," I say sniffling. He laughs, a cruel sarcastic laugh, "Oh really? Me? You must be joking?" I stare at him, confused and hurt. "You think I'd ever smell you, or like you. Y/N you're bloody lying to me, I could never like, or for that matter, love someone as hideous as you." My eyes begin to gush now. How dare he? The one person I trusted, my best friend. "Remus you don't-" "Oh but I do," he said while he picked up his bag and looked at me. "What about our plans?" He looks to the school, "I could never work with someone like you Y/N, I've never disliked someone as much I dislike you now." He begins to walk to the school, "Remus wait I-" "Leave me alone forever Y/N, and don't come here anymore, I have other plans here, plans that don't include you." With that, he walked away, leaving me, my tears streaming, my glasses foggy and my heart broken.

So you see, I never really hated him, but I obliged to his wishes. We never met again, he hung out with his friends, James and Sirius and Peter. As for me, I hung out with the first person I spoke to in Hogwarts, Andromeda Black. Now, Andromeda and I are two very different people, but we shared a love for potions . She knew of my love for reading, she saw me reading on my first night at Hogwarts. We became quick friends, and she soon became my best friend. She's like a sister to me, but I never did tell her about Remus.

After I left Remus on the corridor, I ran and met Andromeda in potions. "Hi dearie, saved me a seat?" She laughs and moves her bag. "Students, please note, today we will be brewing potions in pairs," the class sighs, "pairs that have already been chosen." I sigh loudly. "Cmon its not that bad, you could be paired with that cute Hufflepuff guy." We laugh softly. Remus and another guy run in and swiftly sit down. Professor Slughorn begins to call the list of pairs. "Andromeda Black and Xenophilus Lovegood," with that Andromeda groans and gets up. "Y/N Y/L/N and Remus Lupin," and my mouth fell open.

Remus came to my seat and we began to collect and prepare the potion. No one knew the potions name, only its ingredients. However, these ingredients seemed familiar but it never clicked. I felt his eyes stare through me. From the first year to the fifth year, my body didn't really change, I still remained a "fat girl" but hey I grew some boobs. Does he still think I'm hideous, I thought. I shake my head and we work in silence. "So how are you Y/N" he asks softly. Those beautiful innocent eyes stare right through me. Nope, not happening. "I'm fine Lupin" "Quite the tumble you took today, I-" "Let's just finish this okay?" He shakes his head and we work in silence. He seemed, nervous? Sad? Distressed was the word. After finishing the potion, we all gathered at the front. Dread began dawn on me as I fit the puzzle pieces together. "Now, who can tell me the name of this potion hmm?" "Amortentia , sir," I say in a soft voice.

"And Y/N can you tell me what happens when you smell this potion?" "You smell things that you like sir," I answer shakily. "Very good Miss Y/L/N, please, do us the honours of smelling the potion first." Dread fills me, but I still walk towards his desk. Please, I silently beg, please. "Well Y/N what do you smell?" I inhale the the aroma. "I smell- I," I gulp, "I smell roses, chocolate a-and books." Professor Slughorn applauded and awarded Ravenclaw 20 points and I return to my original place. I feel his eyes on me, but I only feel pain. After four years, how can I? As class is dismissed I begin to rush outside, but he grabs my hand. "Y/N please wa-" "Let go of me Lupin" "Y/N, please I-" "Lupin let go of me," I hear my voice break with emotion. He hears it too and let's me go.

Later that evening, at the brink of dusk, I sit in my room reading. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, a favourite of mine, and one of Remus' too. I sighed and stared out the window. Its been four years Y/N, pull yourself together. Those four years were one of the most brutal years. Thank goodness for Andromeda, without her I'd be so lost and defeated. After that day where Remus and I fought, he moved on well, he was constantly surrounded by his friends and well I, I was alone. I spent my time helping Madam Pomfrey. I learnt how to conjure spells to fix injuries and how to fix bones and so on. Although Remus and I stopped speaking, I never told anyone about his "illness," but I did help make the potion to control it, Madam Pomfrey taught me how to. He didn't know this either, not that he'd care or want to talk to me or- Pull yourself together Y/N, he forgot about you, he kept his promise and you did too. I sighed and began to turn in for the night, my mind racing.

To say I avoided Remus for the next week was an understatement, I ran from him. I spotted him the corridor, I ran the other way. Saw him in class? Sat away from him. Saw him in the library or lake? I'd be gone before he could say quiditch. It hurt, but I needed to do it, our last conversation played in my head over and over again. I couldn't bear his venom again, but I missed him, but could I manage without him? Hell yes.

On the Sunday that week, I walked down the stair well of my common room, wearing a fluffy sweater and cozy joggers. It was exactly midnight and I'd gone avoiding Remus perfectly. The heavy monsoon of October interrupted my sleep, but otherwise the school was sound. I crept down and checked for anyone. No one, lovely. Now I know what you're thinking, Y/N what on earth are you doing? Its bloody midnight. Well, I'll tell you. I was going to read. Due to my hectic schedule and lack of free periods, I spent most of the day working. But at night, it was the only time I read. I grabbed my wand and made my way to the library, my footsteps muffled by the pitter patter of the rain.

As I reached the library, I sighed in relief. No hiccups on the way, thankfully. However, the scent of chocolate lingered in the air. I tensed but brushed it aside, he was here today Y/N, I said to myself. I shook my head and began to search for a new book. I gently tapped my wand against a lantern and held it. Tonight was a mellow night, I wanted some excitement, a bit of comfort. I sighed, laughing to myself as I grabbed Pride and Prejudice from the bookshelf. I made my way to my reading nook, a cozy little spot, very hard to find, between the ends of the furthest bookshelves. As I read, my eyes became droopy. Five minute won't kill me, I convinced myself. As my eyes grew heavy and began to shut, a loud crash jolted me awake.

Who on this bloody earth would be in the library at this hour, I thought to myself. I extinguished the lantern and hid between two bookshelves. I held my breath and counted silently as I heard footsteps approaching. I exhaled slowly as I heard them fade away slowly. I stood up and sighed, picking my book from the ground, making my way back to my nook. Or I would have, if it weren't for the hand that grabbed me.

I spun around and was promptly shoved against the bookshelf, a warm lean body pressing into my cold soft one. They covered my mouth but I saw no hand, their other hand trapping my hands above my head. They slowly removed their hand from my mouth, and removed their cloak. The warmest brown eyes, eyes filled with emotions I've only read about, met mine. "Remus," I exhaled in a mix of shock, hurt and relief.

He stared at me, those big thoughtful eyes watching my every move. He took his hand and fixed my glasses that slipped down. "Hi Y/N," he said softly. My heart caught in my chest and my throat felt thick with emotions. "Let go of me Lupin," despite me being a larger girl, Remus was still stronger, by a lot. "Cmon Lupin, let me go, I'll leave and you can have your private time," I begged looking into those beautiful hazel eyes. "If I let go," he whispered softly, his breath tickling my ear, as he leaned in,"will you let me talk for a minute?" My heart hammered, "Yes." He slowly let go of my hands and stepped back. I sighed with relief, and then shoved him and ran.

I ran out the library, down the hall. I heard him calling my name but my tears that streamed my face answered why I couldn't stay. After four years, I never did stop loving my- the big goof. I reached the end of the corridor and ran onto the lawn, a stitch forming in my right side. I gasped as I felt myself begin to freeze in the cold rainy night. Bloody twit used a hex on me. He approached me with a vigor and I stared at him, tears streaming, and my heart hurting.

"What the hell Remus, let me go," I gritted as I tried to move. He took my wand away and held it. "Look, I just want to talk, I'll let you go but please, please listen to me," he pleaded. How could I ever say no to that beautiful boy? I nodded as best as I could and he unfroze me, my wand still in his hand.

I stared at him, my tears flowing in torrents, just like the rain, "What do you want Remus? I did as you asked, I left you alone," I shout over the boom of thunder. He looks at me and I saw tears flowing down his face too, "Tell me the truth Y/N" "Remus I di-" "No Y/N, tell me why you wake up every night, why you sneak off to the library every night." "I-Remus b-" "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice cracking, "You made everyone believe you were uninterested, bored by reading. You lied to me," I sobbed. "I didn't want you to-" "To what Y/N to judge you?" he stepped closer to me as the rain and soaked our clothes. "To what, think you a nerd? Like me?" "No I-" "Y/N is that really what you think of me, well than-" "I lied because I couldn't let myself be vulnerable around you," I say as I sob looking away, "Remus, I- I didn't want you to see what I liked or what makes me cry, or angry or happy," I sniff as thunder booms, making us both jump. "Then why did you tell Andromeda?" I gape at him, "Yeah why?" I felt my anger build up, "She found me reading one day Lupin, I don't have to explain myself to you," I huffed as I began to walk away. "I smelt you, in the amortentia," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion.

"In our first year, I smelt you," he said, stepping closer to me,"I smelt green apples, like your perfume, cookies, like what we baked, and books. Books." I stand staring at him but he continued. "I smelt you but you never told me about how you read, why you'd come to class tired, or why you stayed up all night. I thought you trust me Y/N" "I did Remus and I do," I cried, "I just couldn't afford to be vulnerable around you." "Wh-" "Because I love you Remus," he stared his mouth ajar, "I've always loved you Remus, I love that you trust me, that you showed me everything, your likes, dislikes, loves, hates, the good and bad." The thunder boomed but I continued, "I didn't tell you because I was scared Remus, it felt like sharing a piece of my heart with you, and I didn't know if I wanted to share so much, knowing that you didn't love me." I sob miserably as tears flow slowly down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I never meant to hurt you," he cried stepping closer to me,"I know what I said that day, and I've never forgiven myself for it," he said as be wiped his eyes, the thunder rolling. "I'm sorry and I know I hurt you, I thought you hated me," "Remus I-" "I thought you hated me and preferred Andromeda to me." "Rem, you were my best friend, and I loved- I still love you," I admit, defeated, "I didn't want to show you everything, I didn't want you to hate me." He holds my hands and intertwined our fingers, "How could I hate you when you're my love?" he asked, as he crashed his lips to mine.

My eyes widened but I slowly melted into his embrace. He dropped my hands and pulled me in gasping softly. His hands wrapped around my waist and mine, tangled in his chocolate locks. I never felt such passion, such emotion, emotions I only read about. I felt tingling sensations stretch across my body but his touch soon soothed it. He pulled away slowly, both of us gasping for air. "I've always loved you Y/N," he said as he pulled me close, his hands wrapped around my waist,"I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm so-," I silence him kissing him softly, "It's okay Rem, I would have probably gotten mad too," I said sniffling. He chuckled stroking the small of my back. "Well, I think of a way I can make it up to you." "Oh?" I sniffle as I look at my beautiful boy. "Y/N, you are the love of my life, I love, love, love you," he holds my chin and and makes me look up at him. Raindrops and tears mixed and fell down both of our faces. "Be my girlfriend, and maybe one day-maybe one-," I kiss him and he sighs, relieved. "Yes Rem, I'll be your girlfriend."

He hugs me and kisses my forehead. We hold hands and walk in the rain, talking and laughing. "So how on earth did you know that I read in the night?" I ask him. He laughs and pulls us into the corridor, sopping. He shows me the marauders map and explains it. "I'm sorry I spied on you," he apologised blushing. He held my hand and led me back to my common room. When we reached, I turned to him. "Thank you for the walk Rem, I'll see you in class today?" He smiles his signature gorgeous grin, "How about we skip today?" I laugh and I kiss him, "Whatever you want Rem, Whatever you want."

[bluerose5]

The Ghost of Paradise (Exile AU)

Chapter 1: Exiled

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,791

Tags: Mass Effect: Andromeda, Reyder, Exiles AU, Pre-Relationship, Drinking, Mentions of Recreational Drug Use

[Read it here on ao3.]

If there was one thing Scott used to his advantage, it was the fact that people always seemed to underestimate him. They thought him to be that sweet, lovable guy that almost everyone got along with. To them, he was simply a normal, everyday soldier who bought the Initiative's pitch like everyone else and took the leap across galaxies on a hunch.

Granted, most of that was somewhat true, but not entirely.

Like the other exiles, Scott didn't exactly wait around for someone else to come swooping in to save the day when the Initiative went to shit. Given that he was part of the original Pathfinder mission team —sent ahead on the Nexus to help prepare for the ark's arrival— he was supposed to have more say, should worse come to worst.

Yeah, because that turned out so well.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. When it was clear that the arks were delayed, it fell to Scott and the others sent ahead by their Pathfinders to call the shots on that end. That was what they had agreed upon per protocol before departing from the Milky Way.

Of course, Nexus leadership had something to say about that. They backtracked hard, citing inexperience and the lack of SAM as reasons to keep the Pathfinders' Nexus representatives from gaining power.

All Tann seemed to worry about was maintaining control over the populace, even when his choices didn't seem to be in everyone's best interests.

One after another, every attempt to establish an outpost failed. Naturally, hope began to dwindle over time, as would be expected after so many failures. It was brutal to watch, especially since Nexus leadership absolutely refused to send any of the Pathfinders' designated representatives. Scott didn't fully understand that decision. Maybe Tann thought that if he gave them an inch, then they would take a mile. Perhaps he was intimidated by the very thought that they might vie for the Pathfinder position yet again.

In the end, it didn't matter.

Scott didn't leave because they refused him the fancy title and its accompanying throne.

No, Scott left because of the utter incompetence. Kesh could handle her own as superintendent, but Tann and Addison were both a piece of work in their own right, making idiotic decisions yet never owning up to their mistakes. Making decisions that affected everyone yet never listening to the opinions of the public.

It was maddening, and Scott's eventual departure was inevitable.

Joining up with the uprising was one thing he couldn’t bring himself to regret. Scott fought to get innocent people off that station and to safety. Not everyone who left was a criminal, and they deserved better than what they got.

By the time they made it to Kadara, Scott was already tiring of Heleus. He helped take down the kett, didn't really get any credit for doing so, and jumped ship as soon as he could.

After Sloane took control of the port, Scott escaped into the badlands every now and then, only returning on occasion. She might have had good intentions in the beginning, but Scott didn’t like the direction her leadership was taking in regards to their future.

Besides, with trouble brewing between the Collective and the Outcasts, it seemed like he took the right step in venturing out on his own.

At first, he kept to himself, but it was impossible to ignore the people in need of help.

Seeds of corruption were already planted in the Outcasts' organization. Not that the Charlatan and their Collective were much better. Everything about the two factions' activities spelled trouble for all of the "little people" getting caught in the crossfire.

Scott had to do something. Ignoring the problem would only make it worse, leaving it to fester and spread like an unwelcome infection.

The gangs could beat each other up as much as they liked, but Scott was determined to make the planet safe for those who merely sought shelter from the madness. It took weeks of scouting out areas with a decent enough bedrock, weeks of surveying the angaran filtration systems, to even have a blueprint for a working water filter.

Of course, being an engineer had its perks.

Eventually, Scott managed to rig his tactical cloak for prolonged use and infiltrated one of the angaran hubs out in the badlands. He made it out with no collateral damage, taking off in the dead of night with scans of their systems. It gave him enough of an understanding to integrate their design into his own plans.

Did he feel bad for stealing as he did? Yes. Could he afford to linger on the guilt, knowing that those angara were denying the Milky Way species access to their plans? No.

Not when survival was on the line.

It was either keep giving them insane amounts of credits and supplies in exchange for a measly cup of water or take it for himself.

Scott was only glad he got in and out undetected. He would fight if he had to, but he wasn't bloodthirsty to the point that he actively sought out confrontation.

Building and perfecting his own filters took time and resources, even more so than usual since he was careful to keep any transactions out of the port under the radar. It was worth it, though. Before long, Scott had a working filtration system under his control.

And on Kadara, where there was fresh water, people soon followed.

Any exiles without gang affiliation were welcome. Most were wary to move to the area at first, understandably so, but Scott didn't force the matter. After all, it was difficult to verify whether or not this new town was a trap or the real thing. How could the exiles guarantee that it wouldn't turn out like all the other towns trying to get a start in the badlands? There one day, and burned to the ground by the next.

Hell, Scott didn't even attach his name to the place . Taking a page out of the Charlatan's book, Scott preferred a more discreet approach to leadership.

However, even Scott knew that, if he was ever going to get the place functioning properly, he would need to win some people over to his side.

Dr. Nakamoto had been the best person to off start with, and Scott didn't regret choosing him for a second. In exchange for retrieving his formula for Oblivion, Dr. Nakamoto promised his services as Scott's resident physician.

Luckily, his patients were more than happy to follow. Some even stayed, and word soon spread.

The rest, as they say, is history.

The locals started calling the place Paradise. A cheesy enough name, but it came down to a vote so Scott allowed it.

Compared to the surrounding cesspool that was the badlands, Scott figured he could understand why they would call it that. It felt like an oasis in an otherwise desolate wasteland, a place where one could go and catch their breath.

As for Paradise's "elusive leader," there was just as much speculation around their identity as there was around the Charlatan's. Although, unlike the Charlatan, all of the residents under Scott's care have met him, and all remained tight-lipped about who he was.

He was grateful for their loyalty. He never asked for it, but he was grateful nonetheless.

It prevented the gangs from painting a target on any one person's back. There were the occasional attacks on the community, but their people were stronger and smarter than the outlaws gave them credit for.

As stories of Scott's ventures spread, infiltrating and sabotaging both the Collective's and the Outcasts' operations to provide for his own people, Kadara Port started to buzz about this mysterious third party that joined in on Kadara's power play.

Truth was, Scott wasn't looking for power or influence.

He was simply looking to protect and provide, no matter the cost.

The Ghost, they called him, known for sneaking in and out without a trace.

And any time he was detected, there were never any witnesses left to tell the tale.

Those at Paradise always got a kick out of the nickname, refusing to let him live it down.

That was fine, though. Scott would rather be the people's boogeyman than to let their opposition think that Paradise will just roll over on their backs and let everyone else fuck them over without retaliation.

On Kadara, it was a dog-eat-dog kind of world. Any sign of weakness will be quickly taken advantage of.

But Scott played his part well.

Nowadays, he lived in the port more often than not, putting up with Sloane's ridiculous protection fees in order to keep the suspicion off himself and those around him.

At the slightest hint of trouble, Paradise had an emergency beacon equipped that would ping Scott's omni-tool at a moment's notice. He had the utmost faith in their capabilities, but he would be there at the drop of a hat, should he be signaled.

For now, it was time he sat back, kicked up his feet, and listened.

Crazy all the things you could find out just from listening to a conversation here or there.

As soon as Scott sat down at the bar in Kralla’s, he asked Umi for his usual.

“Starting a tab?” she asked as she wiped down the bar.

Scott was almost afraid to ask if that was blood or wine staining the rag that she was using. Then again, ignorance was bliss.

Such was the way of life on Kadara.

Scanning the area, Scott eventually nodded.

“Might as well.” He gave a long, drawn-out sigh. “I’m meeting with Reyes soon. Cheap bastard never pays for his drinks.”

“Yet you keep letting him get away with it,” Umi noted.

Scott chuckled.

“Best not to burn bridges over a few drinks,” he said, “especially when this bridge in particular filters a large majority of the goods coming in and out Kadara.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Ryder.”

While Umi continued to mix his drink, Scott tuned into the conversations around him. One caught his attention right off the bat, focused on the latest topic of discussion that was making its rounds throughout the Port.

“I’m tellin’ ya!” the human griped, words slightly slurred. “That damn place is a cult. All exclusive-like. I swear, that lot would rather sacrifice their firstborns than give up the name of their precious leader.”

“Hmph, doesn’t matter,” their salarian companion muttered. “If the outlaws in the badlands don’t take care of that group soon, chances are that Sloane or the Charlatan will, leader or no leader.”

Heh, Scott would like to see them try.

Speaking of the devil himself, Scott tensed the second he felt hands upon his shoulders, only to relax once he heard that familiar voice whisper in his ear.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone,” Reyes breathed, his lips brushing lightly along the shell of his ear.

Without missing a beat, Scott brushed him off with a playful glare.

“You’re late,” he scolded. He tried his best to sound indifferent, unimpressed. His relationship with Reyes has always been complicated at best. “As always.”

Releasing Scott from his hold, Reyes claimed the spot at his side, pretending to look properly chastised.

“I swear, it won’t happen again,” he said. He even made a show of crossing his heart. “I promise.”

“And yet, I don’t believe you.”

“Well, that’s because I was lying.”

Scott snorted, “At least you’re honest about something.”

That’s not even taking into account the whole Charlatan business, something that Reyes seemed to hold extra close to his chest with Scott around. Scott couldn’t tell if it was because Reyes had his own suspicions about him, or if he withheld that information for some other reason unbeknownst to Scott.

Either way, it took Scott a while to put the pieces together himself. Not too long, considering that the majority of the port was still puzzled over the Charlatan’s identity, but it was long enough for Scott to be as certain as humanly possible without having Reyes spell it out for him.

It was simple, really, once Scott knew what to look for. How Reyes slipped up one time about where the Collective’s base was, only to brush it off as mere rumor. How, on any job they took together, Reyes was the first to volunteer to follow up on any Collective leads. Or, better yet, how he seemed so certain whether or not an incident coincided with the Charlatan’s MO if the Charlatan was the one being implicated.

Safe to say, spend enough time with the man, and it became rather obvious over time.

As Keema was all too eager to point out, Reyes liked to think he was so subtle when, in reality, he’s not. Well, not as much as he assumed, at least.

On the other hand, maybe the Charlatan’s secret identity only became apparent to Scott because Reyes wanted him to figure it out.

If that was the case, then Scott would have to open that can of worms another day.

Right now, he needed to focus on why they were here.

Clearing his throat, Scott waited until Umi passed them their drinks and left, moving on to serve her other customers.

Scott grabbed ahold of Reyes’s sleeve and tugged. He waited until Reyes met his eyes, then jerked his chin in the direction of a nice, secluded table.

“Shall we?” he asked.

Reyes hummed, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Trying to get me alone, Scott?” Resting against the bar, Reyes leaned in close, but Scott refused to move a single muscle, holding his ground. “You need only ask.”

“I’ll keep that in mind then,” Scott said. He gave Reyes a blatant once-over, sparing his lips an appreciative glance. “It’s not every day that I get the great Reyes Vidal all to myself.”

“Keep buttering me up, Scott,” Reyes teased, “and I might just give you that discount after all.”

“Really?”

“No.”

Scott huffed.

Picking up their drinks, they soon settled in at the table that Scott had pointed out. From where they sat, they had a whole view of the bar.

Scott took a swig of his beer, and Reyes instantly followed suit, unable to take their eyes off of each other for even a second.

They sat their glasses back down with a solid thunk.

“Okay,” Scott started, “let’s get down to business.”

“Just like that?” Reyes laughed.

“Just like that.” Shuffling in place, Scott reached into his pocket and removed a small pouch filled with seeds. At Reyes’s curious expression, Scott explained, “My payment. A rather generous one, if I do say so myself.”

After Scott tossed the pouch onto the table, Reyes picked it up. He let its weight rest in the palm of his hand for a moment before loosening the ties to sneak a peek.

His brow furrowed in confusion.

“Seeds?” he questioned, cocking his head to the side.

“Yep,” Scott said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “Seeds for a ‘medicinal herb.’ My scans confirmed it. It develops antibiotic-like properties as it matures, along with some other, more recreational effects.”

And by scans, Scott meant Nakamoto. Their resident doctor was quick to jump at the chance to study the plant’s effects, especially if it could help fight off future infections in Andromeda.

Scott had started off by “borrowing” a few plants from some of their local cultivators, returning the samples to the greenhouse that they had established in Paradise.

Their latest harvest yielded a surplus, so Scott figured that any leftover seeds would be a profitable bargaining chip for trade.

Turns out, he was right.

Reyes tightened his grip upon the pouch and pocketed it, now that he knew what he was getting out of their exchange.

“A valuable product,” Reyes acknowledged, “if what you say is true.”

Smirking, Scott leaned back in his chair, hand over his heart in mock offense.

“Now, Reyes, would I ever lie to my favorite smuggler?”

“True enough. You do have a soft spot for me.”

“You’re that certain, huh?”

“As a betting man, I would say that I’m confident in my chances of being right.”

He even had the gall to throw in a wink for good measure.

Scott’s face warmed, but he ignored the sensation, trying to calm his racing heart.

Of, if only he knew…

Clearing his throat, Scott returned their focus to the topic at hand.

“Also, with that herb, you don’t have to worry about any of those nasty addictive effects like with Oblivion,” Scott continued. “I guess the high you get from it could be considered slightly addictive in more of a mental sense, but it’s relatively harmless on a physiological level.”

Reyes raised an eyebrow at him.

“Sounds like you know from personal experience.”

“I, uh—” Scott stammered, caught red-handed. “Well, what kind of salesman would I be if I didn’t sample the product for myself?”

“A poor one, indeed,” Reyes agreed. “I’m only offended that you didn’t think to invite me to the party.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I feel the urge to smoke the space weed,” Scott deadpanned.

“Please, do.”

“Okay, okay.” Scott did his best to hide his laughter. His lip quivered at the corner. “Back to business, mister. You’re not taking my goods and leaving me with nothing again.” Reyes had charmed his way out of one too many deals with him in the past, but not anymore. “Where’s the goods?”

“Scott,” Reyes gasped. “I am offended you would think that I would stoop so low as to steal from my favorite exile.”

When it was clear that Scott wasn’t buying it, Reyes surrendered.

“Alright, here. One long-ranged scanner, ready for use.” Taking out a small package, Reyes pushed it pointedly across the table. Scott took it instantly, unable to express his gratitude in that moment. “Sorry that I didn’t have a chance to giftwrap it. My best only deserves the best, after all.”

Scott felt his heart skip a beat.

“Don’t think anything of it.” Scott shook his head, clutching tightly at the package. “This should be enough.”

“Glad to hear it.” Reyes paused, hesitating before coming out with it. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s it for?”

“What else would I use a scanner for?” Scott countered. “I wasn’t on the Pathfinder’s mission team for nothing. We have a whole bunch of unexplored ruins scattered all over the surface of this planet, and I plan on getting some readings.”

To be more specific, he wanted a reading on their turrets if he could examine one at a safe distance. Even the beam technology from the Observer bots would be useful in formulating a defensive matrix for the t—

“You what?”

Uh-oh, someone was upset.

Scott grimaced. He carefully avoided Reyes’s gaze, filled with heat and disapproval.

“Reyes, come on,” Scott sighed. It was weird to see him so fiercely protective, to see him act like he cared about anything other than the next job he had lined up. “I’m a big boy. I’ll be careful.”

“Kadara’s most experienced scientists were careful,” Reyes snapped, “yet that didn’t stop the Remnant from butchering them like animals. Scott, there’s a reason why even the angara avoid those areas like the plague. The security measures alone…”

Could be what kept Scott’s people safe.

Sitting up straight, Scott held his head up high with renewed purpose, meeting Reyes’s eyes with a stubborn glare.

“I’m going,” he stated, “whether you like it or not. The information stored there might be vital to our continued survival. We can’t pass up an opportunity to learn the Remnant’s secrets.”

Reyes pursed his lips, but eventually acquiesced.

“Fine, but I’m accompanying you when you go.”

“That’s not your decision!”

“You’re not changing my mind.”

They stared each other down, caught at an impasse.

After a moment of tense silence between them, Reyes grumbled. Since that argument was obviously far from being over, he was more than willing to change the subject.

“I have another exchange for you.”

Now, that got Scott’s attention. Setting the scanner aside, he would make sure to install the upgrade into his omni-tool later, curious about this second trade-off.

They didn’t have anything else planned for today, and Reyes wasn’t usually the type to drop something like this on a client at the last second.

Whatever he found, it had to be huge.

“What is it?” Scott asked, wondering what the Charlatan himself had up his sleeve.

“A little bit of intel,” he offered, keeping his reply as vague as ever.

Still, if Reyes was offering the information, then it must be important. As shady as he could be at times, information was his forte. When Reyes used it as a bargaining chip, he meant business, and chances were that it was reliable.

Scott simply wondered if he actually wanted the news that Reyes had to offer.

“What’s the catch?” Scott asked, because nothing on Kadara came for free.

Reyes shrugged.

“My shuttle needs some repairs, and I only trust one person to fix her up. Mind coming by tomorrow?”

Scott pretended to consider his offer for a moment, but in the end, he could never say no to working on that old bird.

“Name the time and place.”

“I’ll send you the details later, but don’t make me wait up.”

“And deny you of my presence for even longer? That would just be cruel.”

“Glad we can agree on something.” Reyes’s smile soon twisted into a frown. That solemn expression certainly didn’t do any favors to ease Scott’s nerves. “As for that intel, you’ve heard of Vehn Terev, right?”

“The poor, unfortunate soul whose head is next up on Sloane Kelly’s chopping block?” After all, she couldn’t afford to upset the angara, not after word spread of Vehn's betrayal. That would threaten the balance of power too much, at least in her eyes. “I might have heard a thing or two.”

“Well, you’re about to hear much more in the coming days,” Reyes explained, watching him closely for any sign of change. “I recently received a message from Evfra. Apparently, Vehn has some useful intel of his own, intel that could potentially cripple the kett’s operations in all of Heleus for good. Evfra has arranged for me to meet with one of his contacts about securing Vehn’s release from prison.”

“A difficult feat if Sloane won’t comply,” Scott noted, “but I still don’t see why this information would be of any use to me.”

“Scott—” Reyes hesitated.

For once, he seemed genuinely nervous, which in turn caused Scott to panic a little on the inside.

What he said turned Scott’s entire world upside down.

“The contact is Pathfinder Ryder.”

[write-out-hysteria]

Care

Matsukawa x gn reader fluff

Author’s Note: This is sort of a prequel to my first fic? It’s a lot longer though and uh, tw disordered eating maybe

For as long as Issei had worked this job, he had been an early riser. He rose before the sun, sitting down on the edge of the bed while you lay fast asleep. He stretched and popped and cracked instinctively before getting up to brush his teeth. He’d walk, eyes still half closed, to his ‘home gym,’ or the space in the guest bedroom he had converted, knowing full well you wanted it in the garage. ‘It’s too spooky in there in the morning,’ he’d laugh, both of you knowing he just wanted to work out in the air conditioned room.

He’d finish off with yoga and meditation, centering his mind, body, and spirit, before hopping into the warm shower. He’d always leave the bathroom door open in case you woke up, ready to goofily tease you before you even remembered where you were.

“You like what you see, baby?” He’d wink, holding his Discobolus pose as you shook your head.

“Put some clothes on, Zeus,” you rolled back over but soon heard footsteps approaching.

“I’m offended that you’d compare me to the most promiscuous man on Mt. Olympus,” he kneeled next to the bed, grabbing your chin in his hand. “I’d prefer to be Perseus, and have my Andromeda ruling at my side.”

“It’s too early,” you dragged out the syllables as Issei rested his hand on your hip beneath the covers.

“What do you want for breakfast, sweetie? I can make pancakes,” he pressed a kiss to your hand resting on the pillow. You nodded, pulling the blanket back over your shoulders.

“I’m sure Perseus wore pants.” He rose, grabbing a pair of cobalt blue boxer briefs from the shared dresser.

“I’m sure Andromeda made the pancakes.”

Your arms found their way around Issei’s firm torso while he flipped each finished pancake on either of the two plates on the counter. He had a system, every other pancake was chocolate chip, “maybe you’ll be sweeter to me if I give you sugar,” he’d always say. The plain ones were for him, though he would spread peanut butter over them anyway. He’d learned that from you the first time he had made you pancakes, the first time you had spent the night in his arms.

“Do you want anything else, angel?” You shook your head against his back. He carefully turned around, handing you your plate. “I’m surprised you’re up so early,” he laughed.

“It was cold last night, had you brought out the winter blankets like I asked, I probably wouldn’t be.” You had made your way to the stool at the counter by now, cutting into your pancakes eagerly. It was his turn to hold you now, nuzzling his face into your neck after leaving a soft kiss on your jaw.

“Just say you missed me, baby. That’s okay, too.”

“Do you want to meet at that ramen place for lunch?” Issei was getting ready for his break, awaiting your text response. He was going to go anyway, he hadn’t packed any food. He just wouldn’t mind picking you up on his way.

“I can’t, I have a lunch meeting.” He frowned, those usually meant the worst for you.

“Do you want me to drop something off for you?”

“I’m not hungry,” he rolled his eyes before putting his phone back in his pocket, walking calmly down the street.

He had been battling your loss of appetite due to stress for the entirety of your relationship without much luck. He had never been one to push, but sometimes the only food he could assure you ate was breakfast. He had only gotten you to eat breakfast by making dinner early, leaving you starving by morning. It was only on bad days, it’s like your body would forget. Sometimes you noticed, but were afraid of getting sick if you ate something when you had already felt “full.”

He ate his ramen, debating bringing some back for dinner. There had been weeks where you ate the equivalent of one large meal a day. Every ‘not hungry’ made him fear a week like that, making food that you’d barely touch and praying you’d take it to work with you tomorrow so you wouldn’t wither away. His only solution up to this point was eating, and reminding you that normally this is when you’d eat too. Using your love for routine against you was his only hope, and it hadn’t been working as well as he wanted.

He could tell you felt bad about not eating, that you felt bad about worrying him. What else were you supposed to do if you simply weren’t hungry? Force feeding only made you feel inadequate, you felt full after half a sandwich or a few bites of pasta. The thought of eating a full protein made you sick. At your lowest points you’d start crying while watching tv with him, watching him snack on something you couldn’t bare the thought of consuming. ‘Issei, what’s wrong with me?’ He never knew what to say. When you got stressed your body simply refused fuel, and that worried him.

“How was work, angel?” His job had given him the ability to appear entirely composed regardless of the environment. You could never tell if he was stressed unless he dropped the facade and told you. When it was about you, he’d never tell you. When it was about you, though, you could tell. Issei was always caring. If he could tell you were in distress he’d pull out all the stops. He’d light lavender candles, he’d cook, he’d clean the counter. He wouldn’t complain if you wanted to watch something he didn’t, he wasn’t planning on taking his attention off of your subtle emotional responses.

“It was okay,” you lied. He already knew it wasn’t, but you didn’t want to talk about it. He always got home before you did, he didn’t have nearly as many responsibilities as you did. His work didn’t change, yours did. New projects meant new worries and new responsibilities.

“I’m almost done making dinner,” you had dropped your things by the door as soon as you stepped inside, making your way towards the man slaving over a pot of chicken soup. “I took the winter blankets out, I thought this might help warm you up.” You snaked your arms around his waist, hiding your face into his back as it warmed up, holding the tears welling up in your eyes. You could eat a little bit of soup, just a little bit, if it would make him feel better.

“Thank you,” you let out a deep sigh into his back. “I’m gonna shower.” He was already in his ‘pajamas.’ Issei ran too hot to sleep in anything but underwear, but enjoyed lounging around the house in your oversized Batman pants. You’d offered to buy him his own so you could match, but he said it wouldn’t be the same.

You both sunk onto the couch, searching for something comforting to watch. Maybe a disney movie, or something else you’d seen a million times. “You know how I played volleyball in high school?”

“Yeah, why?” You hadn’t forgotten. He even taught you how to play so your beach trips would be more fun.

“After practice Makki and I would compete to see who could make the better protein shake. I always won.” You laughed, probably way too much.

“You’re bragging to me about protein shakes you made 10 years ago?”

“What? They were good! Have some faith in me,” the movie kept playing, he tightened his grip around your waist. “I have no clue how I’d drink one everyday, though. If I had one now I’d probably puke. Oh, the joys of youth,” he laughed.

“Are you still hungry or something?” He wasn’t, his teenage athlete appetite had gone away as he aged.

“I was thinking about dessert.”

“I’ve had your protein shakes, I wouldn’t consider them a sweet treat.” He gasped, feigning offense.

“You know how much I hate protein powder, you think I was downing that everyday in high school?” You looked at him confused. His current protein shakes weren’t bad, for a protein shake at least. “It’s an acquired taste, and I still hold my nose and chug it.”You laughed at one of your favorite Matsukawa quirks.

“So why'd you stop making them taste good?”

“I was too broke in college to buy all that ice cream.”

“Ice cream? For protein shakes?” He rolled his eyes before pausing the movie.

“I’m gonna make you one, you’re underestimating my 17 year old metabolism.” He stood up, gesturing that you stay put. Issei was having another chaotic urge, apparently.

You turned on the couch, facing the kitchen instead of the tv. He began pulling every sugary food out of the pantry and fridge. Every flavor of ice cream, cookies, granola bars, peanut butter, anything and everything sweet. “You’re using all of that?” He nodded, haphazardly throwing everything in the blender followed by some milk, chocolate syrup, and two scoops of his protein powder. This really was a chaotic recipe, straight from the mind of a gross teenaged boy.

He came back to the couch with glasses for each of them, they looked like they had been filled with a child’s birthday cake puke. “Drink it, I promise it’s good! It’s so you can’t taste the protein powder.” It probably just tastes like chocolate and peanut butter, but you were still hesitant to drink it. “I promise, the team always liked mine better than Makki's.”

You held the glass up to your mouth, slowly drinking it, widening your eyes when you realized how good it actually was. You understood now. Your 26 year old bodies would cease to function if you had these everyday. You couldn’t pull the glass away until you were done.

“Yeah, I definitely didn’t think it’d be that good.” You laughed, wiping your upper lip.

“You couldn’t taste the protein powder right?” You nodded, watching him sip slowly on his, as his face suddenly scrunched up. “You know, I ate a lot at dinner. I probably shouldn’t drink the rest of this. You want it?” You shrugged, taking the glass out of his hand, drinking the rest like you hadn’t eaten anything all day. Oh wait, he thought. You haven’t for 14 hours. Oh wait, he thought, this is it. This was the solution to his biggest worry. A hidden reset button, your sweet tooth.

[with-valkyrie]

Q&A

Endgame!Thor x Reader

Word count:1155

Warnings: some language, some angst but some hella endgame spoilers

Synopsis: one question has been weighing heavy on your mind lately about you and your boyfriend`s relationship

A/N: someone had requested this prompt with thor. Thought this would be a great way to practice using the same prompt and switching up my setting and tone choices.

——————————————————————————-

You’ve been with Thor for two years now. Yet, it still amazes you everyday that you wake up and find him watching Golden Girls in the living room, a hearty laugh filling up the space of the apartment everytime Sophia spoke

It wasn’t just some long dream based off of watching the same set of movies over and over and reading fan fiction online. He really was the big blonde softie you’d cuddle on the couch with late at night, the same guy who you’d take trips to the grocery store with and get approached by anyone for a selfie or an autograph. It was really his axe, Stormbreaker and his hammer, Mjølnir (occasionally) that sat by the shoe rack at the door and not a pair of plastic toy replicas you could pick up without trying. Those were really his stories of his adventures he`d tell whenever he was reminded by them in the smallest of details around his day.

Though sometimes, you found yourself questioning why and how of all people in Thor`s great big world, did he choose to be with you.

Why did the God of Thunder want to be with a normal Midgardian that spent their whole four years of journalism school just to work at Buzzfeed and had a close-to-concerning diet consisting of almost nothing but sugar and bread? You had no powers, no expanded lifeline, you never fought in a war, and the nearest thing that you owned to a weapon was your umbrella that jerked out and could hit someone in the gut or their kneecaps (which had never been its intended purpose, but hey).

Of all the creatures he had met during adventures across the Nine Realms, why did he wanna be with someone whose world only included one?

It's late in the night when the question floats around in your head.

One of the escalators steps inches further down to the station, the graffiti of the familiar red and gold helmet takes up most of the bottom space, “always and forever” scribbled in a corner. Thor grows quiet to smile at this image plastered on the subway walls, then notices how quiet you`ve gotten.

Attention falling on the way your eyebrows were knitting themselves closer and the familiar frown and shift of the eyes that showed how heavy you were in thought about two very converging stances. He remembers the day he saw a more comical and animated version of that expression--the “is air matter” debate of last summer. Except you looked like you were pensive about something more pressing tonight.

“ (Y/N),” he addressed you, placing just the tips of his fingers on your shoulder very carefully as not to frighten you.

“Are you alright? Tired at all?”

“Yeah, I`m fine just… thinking.”

You pass through the turnstile and he meets you on the other side, one blue eye and one green eye searching yours and trying to find a clue of what you could possibly be thinking about. Through a kind smile, he expresses that he is still the same warm and welcoming guy you fell for and you can confide in him. He offers out a hand to you and then, leads you to the next set of escalators to the platform.

“We will always remember you, T.S.” stretches across the doorway of the escalators in the same shade of red. Though you``re not facing him directly, you can feel two eyes studying you from the corner of your eye. “Is something troubling you?”

“Yes, actually.”

The train is already awaiting when you reach the bottom of the escalator. Quickly the two of you enter in the tail car, and you hope that none of the teens that like to ride the car toward the end of the line and back, with their Saturday night bullshit don``t get the same idea.

You``ve got something really important to ask your boyfriend.

You feel your chest rise and fall, slumped shoulders growing apart from each other and your back straightening itself out from your usual slouch just for a second. You turn to Thor, and the expression on his face betrayed in fear for the worst possible thing you could say. Did he talk too much? Was he too loud when he laughed? Was the attention of being a public figure on Earth too much for you? What about the weight he’d gained over five years? Was he not the beautiful God of Thunder he once was with his shape now?

You find the familiar crook of his neck to lay your head on, and pull yourself closer to him. “Thor Odinson,” you sigh and then ask “Why do you love me?”

And with this, Thor can let out his own sigh, this time in relief. The God of Thunder and Fertility was not omnipotent. In more recent years he'd lost loved ones in such tragic surprises that he had found quiet moments were times to fear the worst. It was selfish of him but to lose you, would be like watching the most beautiful star in the night burn up and explode.

“I have no idea, my andromeda.” you chuckle at the all too familiar nickname.

But in truth,Thor did know why he loved you: you lived in a world where everyone had believed your interests had negated your ability to work hard and prioritize like an adult should, that art students wouldn't get far in life. But you never let it stop you from enjoying various side-hustles and enjoying his company while you sat on the couch in late nights. If he told you all the reasons why he'd loved you, he`d drone on for hours. So all he can say is: “There's just something magical about you.”

He presses a kiss on your forehead, and another one. And then, the two of you are caught in a passionate kiss as the subway moves on through the tunnel.

When you can catch your breath again, you say,. “Must be the can of glitter I ate earlier.” then smirk at him, little dots of star glitter intermixed with your gloss lipstick that looks almost natural.

“....what.”

“Yeah, I keep a can of edible glitter in the pantry.”

These little quirky things you did like eating weird foods accounted for 30% of the magical feeling about you. The feeling of whether he should be concerned about you eating at least 8 ounces or so of shiny plastic bits was fading off of his shoulders. You ate all different types of squid and bugs, surely, you knew what you were doing when eating glitter.

Now that Thor thought about it, the taste wasn't all that bad on your lips, it was strawberry flavored with a hint of orange tang. Maybe had partake in your interesting snack food choice this time. “...Do we have any more?....”

[kiwiparallels]

Townhouse, part I

Harry closed the door behind him, feeling the light rain that had started falling when he got to London. The townhouse stood there, the windows still silent, lights out, as it was still empty. He knew, though, boxes were now scattered through the floor, half open, some clothes spilling out, his few possessions thrown around as he started to unpack. He should have brought everything in his trunk, as he had said, but Hermione thought he had to have boxes, so he got boxes.

He sighed. The street was calm, only a few people wandered by, and he started to walk towards the closest take out. It was thai, and he felt a little warm inside thinking how mundane his life could be right now. It was a random thursday night and he would have thai. In his house. In muggle London. The vague memory of the months before the wedding came running back to him. After the war, his face was everywhere, everyday. His very green eyes mixed up with the fine print in the newspaper and made even less sense than the words. The trials were a collage of blurry scenes, noisy voices and solemn silence. Sometimes, he was the one speaking, but he could only hear his speeches as they were someone else’s. Diagon Alley was too loud, too full. The whispers still haunted him when he was in silence. “That’s Harry Potter!”, “Harry, a picture, please!”, “A word on Greyback’s sentence?”.

Grimmauld Place was, again, a solitude fortress. He knew people were starting to go back to their lives. Hermione and Ginny went back to Hogwarts after the reconstruction, to take their final year and get their N.E.W.Ts. Ron was looking after the shop with George, as he was in no condition to do it by himself. And Harry was just there. He read his owls as they came, answered sometimes - but Shacklebolt’s kept piling up, sometimes unopened, full of polite requests to meet the Head Auror for a job position, and even politer offers of help. Help, how would he ever need help? There was nothing else to do - or to say - anymore. It was over, done. His wand felt foreigner in his hand, his magic was unstable. Everyone knew his name, his face, his hair and his eyes, and everyone seemed to think he was wise and sure of what was right and what was not. And if you asked him, few months before, he was so sure. He knew what was right: coming back, defeating Voldemort, keeping people safe. But then? Nothing he did could change this world anymore.

So he didn’t do anything.

Ron was in and out of Grimmauld place at first. Molly and some of the boys would visit eventually. Hermione and Ginny came by during the winter break, and the first Weasley Christmas Dinner was easy to avoid. Fred wasn’t there. No one could really celebrate, not yet. When that summer arrived, though, and the girls came back from school, Ginny had been selected by the Holyhead Harpies, and went directly into training. But even as worked up with the Ministry’s business as Hermione got when she was asked to sit in the Magical Beings Law and Diplomacy Office, she was always the one to start noticing things. He put on quite a show on the first few months, changing outfits, keeping the cupboards full, even renovating some of the dark rooms in the old Black Manor. But soon she sat with him, with that know-it-all look on her face, to ask if he had actually been out of the house. He looked at his cup of tea, and hadn’t bothered to answer.

That was when the interventions started. The Weasleys sent him invitation after invitation, to dinners, teas, breakfasts, brunches, any and everything. Neville kept sending him a few plants to look after, sometimes with beautiful pictures of him travelling the world to study tropical magical flora. Ginny tried to come over more, talk to him, ask him - begging, even - to watch her matches, but he wouldn’t make it through the door. And he saw it was driving her mad. Eventually, between angry shouts, desperate sobs, warm hugs and kind words, they broke up. It was okay, honestly, he couldn’t see anything for him in the world anymore. But she had the right to live her life.

Ron and Hermione were his constant company. He knew those two would never back out on him. One day, they came to announce their wedding. He could see they were both so happy for it, but so sad they knew their best friend would not make it there. In one or two glances, he noticed part of them blamed him too. It didn’t really affect him - it was his fault from the very beginning. What was there to do? That was until the first time Luna came by. She never tried to take him out of the house, she just stayed for some time, drank some tea, and talked about the last discovery she had published at The Quibbler. Once, though, he asked her if one of those could explain why he couldn’t get out of the house. “Oh, Harry, there’s nothing magical keeping you inside”, she laughed soundly, “your problem is you can’t get out of your head”.

Not long after that, Hermione managed to convince him to start therapy. Mr. Argus, a mediwizard in his forties, started to come for an hour everyday. After a few months, Harry was given some challenges. Going out to Ron and Hermione’s new flat, for example. That came to be his second home. His improvement seemed to add up to his best friends overall happiness, he gave ideas about the reception, and they had great dinners every thursday. Seeing other people was a setback. But those dinners started to get crowded, full of loving faces of people he could only feel affection and gratitude for. Even Gin got used to this new state of things. They were then headed to a friendship they never really had before, in which she wasn’t anyone’s sister, and they didn’t have to keep up with each other’s romantic expectations.  

His public appearances, though, were a whole new story. People didn’t really stop him or touch him at all. They stared, with startled eyes, to the Saviour of the wizarding world. Some were curious, most were afraid. Every single stroll to a wizard street ended up in the next day’s morning newspaper. As he would save them again from a dark wizard while he got a coffee from the cafe in Diagon Alley. He was getting used to it, slowly. He decided to wander around Muggle London, as people did look at him too - he knew since a young age his dark complexion, tall figure, topped with messy hair and bright green eyes were an attention getter in any place of England, no matter how little magic was around - but they did so with the acknowledgement that he was no more than a funny looking stranger. He savoured this word in every look - it felt so good to be ordinary again.

When he noticed, he had accomplished his last challenge: attend the wedding. It was a night full of kindness, he could see how the love poured out of the bushy-haired girl and the freckled tall boy he had met ten years before. Their magic danced around the place, binding them up in a union that was far from bureaucratic. It wrapped every single guest, every family member, in sparkling energy that started to soothe some of Harry’s wounds. Some he didn’t know he had to start with. Some things, then, started to fall into place. The new couple’s house couldn’t be his refuge whenever he felt like Grimmauld Place was pulling him in again. But going back to where he was after the war was not a possibility. He started to make visits. He was going from house to house, showing them how they ended up helping him in the end. He started visiting the graves of the friends he had said goodbye to, but hadn’t really let go.

Andromeda’s place was one of the last houses to visit, and definitely the hardest. Teddy was already three years old, and while he knew Andromeda would never let anything come in the way of the little boy’s happiness, he was also aware that the blue-haired kid was his responsibility too. He made himself swear to her - but mostly to himself - that he would be present, see his godson grow up, and make sure his parents memory grew up with him. He went back to Hogwarts, once. Let the emotion come up to him as he watched the quidditch practice from the stands. In this place lived a ingenuous kind of happiness that didn’t belong to him anymore. And never would. But Harry made peace with it. And when he came back to Grimmauld’s Place, he decided it was time to sell.

The muggle townhouse should help him forget all about houses flooded with magic that pull you in when you are at your darkest moment. But it wasn’t as much as the house as it was the rain or the promised thai food. He was feeling peaceful in being by himself for the first time in so long. His steps echoed in the sidewalk, and even though he could feel the weight of his wand in the loop sewed to his hoodie’s right arm, no one else in the street could tell. It was his secret to keep. It was his secret to share.

When he went by the door of a fresh-looking pub, he felt like coming in. Everyone there seemed to be around his age, even the blue eyed girl who gave him a half-smile when he approached the bar.

“Hey, what are you having?” she poured two pints and slided them towards a couple in the right side of the bar.

“Do you have anything to eat?” and soon after she offered him the options in their pizzeria, he saw his slice come accompanied with a pint of their local brew. He ate in silence, taking in the sound of the laughing in the background, the bets over darts in one corner and the soft music that made the place feel warmer.

“You’re new around here, aren’t you?” she asked, as she motioned to refill his pint, to which he nodded. “I figured, most of our clients are locals, but you are a fresh face. I’m Ellie, by the way.”

“Harry” he said, taking a sip. “I just bought a house a few blocks down here, I was going to get some take out, but this place seemed nice. Is it yours?”

“You just bought a house? But you look so young! Well, it’s mine, Jack’s,” she pointed at a man with shaggy hair and a big smile in one of the tables, “and Chiara’s, who’s in the kitchen. She’s the cook, I’m a bartender, and Jack’s the kid with the money, like you, I guess. What do you do?”

“Hm, nothing to be honest.” he gave her a sad smile, thinking about how that would soon be a poor excuse if he kept interacting with muggle people as he intended. He lifted his hand to grab his cup absentmindedly, but ended up knocking it to the floor. He stopped the fall and levitated it back to his hand out of instinct, wandless magic that seemed to pour out of him as needed some times. Maybe it was the whole dying-and-coming-back-thing, but it was sure a problem in a muggle bar. Ellie was clearly startled, but he saw the relief in her face, as he placed the cup back in the counter, almost as full as it was before. “I tend to break things up, though.”

“That catch was impressive, actually. You must be a private school jock, am I right? Let me guess? Lacrosse?”

“Well, not really. I’m just a wizard, Ellie.” She laughed wholeheartedly, his truth-joke coming out with the exact intention he had. He smiled with her. “Is guessing what people do a hobby of yours?”

“It gets quite boring here sometimes. When someone knew comes in, I like to imagine their stories. It’s good to memorize the faces too.”

They chatted up a little more, between orders and customers, as the young woman seemed to not notice how Harry kept dodging her personal questions. It seemed more obvious to him now how it was so hard to witches and wizards to make friends with muggles. Absolutely no questions was answerable: what do you do? Oh, casual dark lords defeating. Where have you been to school? Your usual magic castle up in Scotland. Where’s your family? All dead in the First Wizarding War. Why did you move? Post-war panic syndrome. Nope, it didn’t sound like good conversation at all. It sounded more like an imminent owl coming from the Ministry to attest he had broken the Statute of Secrecy and should turn in his wand immediately. This was going to be more complicated than expected.

Harry payed up, and left the pub slowly. It was far from empty, and the young crowd already seemed to be not so sober as they were when he arrived. When he bumped into one of the guys and took more than necessary to regain his feet, he noticed he was probably more on the drunk-ish side too. As he looked to the door, he noticed how the muggle people seemed so carefree on the street. They smiled and played around as no war had ended only three years ago. Well, for them, it didn’t, he thought, with a little envy. The only exception was the guy leaning on the doorframe, his shoulders broad and stiff, brows furrowed, as he had had his own share of real stress. He was typing quickly in one of those muggle phones pressing each button a couple of times before getting to the next to one. His face was half hidden by the long white-blond hair, but his pointy features were softened by a stubble and  an easy smirk.

He standed like so many people Harry had met before - the ones who were thought how to stand, where to put his shoulders, with the royal posture the should go with their names. Like Sirius used to, though, there was a conscious effort to slack, maybe aided by the plain white tee and the beat-up jacket. He looked like the pictures he had seen of his parents and their friends when they were young, celebrating christmases and halloweens, with their cool looks even in the middle of the Order’s tasks. The high cheekbones and strong jaw really looked like one of the Blacks, if only Sirius could ever pull off blond hair. He smiled with the possibility. The guy got off his position and, pulling one of the strands of his hair out of his face, disappeared in the noisy streets.

Harry got the hint and started walking again, noticing how the faces he was used to in the wizarding world were not common among muggles. There was something, maybe it was their magic, even, that used to make every witch or wizard stand out. He knew his unusual features got him stares, but he also knew it was not only that. Muggles could notice, as the Dursley’s did, there was something about him. He felt little tingles of magic, as he used to when it seemed to work by itself, running up and down his warms, rolling around his chest, wrapping up every single hair. Somethings you just couldn’t deny. And that guy, why did he remind him so much of Sirius? He didn’t have his hair, or his eyes, or laughed with loud barks. He smirked instead. He clearly hadn’t been locked up for twelve years, either. Maybe, a voice said inside of his head, he was just a wizard. It could be, he didn’t seem to notice Harry, to react to him in any way, as wizards would, so he had no way to know. He remembered the easy smile and careless hair fumble. Or, maybe, the voice went on, he was just bloody fit. [to be continued: part II, part III, part IV] 

[gamingtipsandtrickshacks]

Video game romance is broken • Eurogamer.net

Florence, a short mobile game by the developer Mountains, covers more ground on the topic of romantic love in under an hour than most games have for decades. It does so by focusing on a few small watershed moments of being in love, from developing an interest in someone to the pleasures and hurdles of domestic co-existence to letting go of a relationship that no longer works.

When thinking about romance in games, towering examples like Dragon Age and Mass Effect come to mind, games that made dating a major part of their appeal. Many other games, such as the Final Fantasy series, frequently include romantic subplots in their narrative. In visual romance novels like Clannad and Dream Daddy, dating is the main point of the exercise. Other games focus on tragic love and its aftermath, like Last Of June.

Generally romance in video games can be subdivided into the act of falling in love and love as a catalyst for certain stories and plot points. These are undoubtedly important and exciting aspects of love and romance, but aspects only. Florence's designer Ken Wong calls them milestones - situations everyone who has been in a relationship can identify with, small moments that stay with us even years later due to the sheer impact they had on us at the time.

Many games confuse being impactful with being dramatic, which is understandable when you look at popular love stories like Romeo and Juliet or Orpheus and Eurydice that stood the test of time. Stories like these paint romance as something passionate and consuming, making it a fitting addition to action-packed and exciting plotlines. Their protagonists take control of the situation that prevents them from achieving happiness together: in Romeo and Juliet, Juliet takes a sleeping potion in a bid to avoid marrying someone else, in Orpheus and Eurydice Orpheus refuses to accept the death of his wife.

Discussing relationships in To the Moon.

Control is what makes the power fantasies of so many games work. Most games still loathe wresting control away from their players, even though a lack of control is in many ways an important component to navigating a relationship - after all, it takes two to tango. The most egregious example of giving players total control over a romance is Dragon Age: Inquisition. The Inquisitor gathers people around them who are impressed with their accomplishments and who keep affirming their status as someone special. Solas, for example, says he "felt the whole world change" within moments of meeting the Inquisitor, Blackwall remarks on the importance of the Inquisitor so fervently you can start flirting with him immediately after recruiting him. Other characters, such as Cullen, react to your direct approach with discomfort that always takes the form of adorable shyness rather than rejection.

Until you decide to commit to a relationship, you are free to flirt with everyone without repercussions, and if you want to end the relationship at any point, you can do so. It's entirely in your power. There is exactly one time a partner comes close to ending it with you, and you are given the option to prevent it.

Games like Dragon Age or visual romance novels are all about saying the right thing to get someone to like you. An alternative of this mechanic which basically does the same sort of thing is gift-giving. Granted, in Stardew Valley for example it's not necessarily the rarest gift that ends up the most appreciated, but the overall message is that saying what someone would like to hear and giving them what they want is the way to success.

Since Florence is set in the modern world, it portrays milestones from later stages of a relationship that are deliberately mundane. It's important to note that it just presents them and doesn't allow players to change events. This way it avoids bias and makes it clear that some things just happen, both good and bad.

In Dragon Age I have all the power.

Games like to shy away from the difficult aspects of relationships in their endeavour to let us win. In addition to that, wanting to handle these aspects with the necessary respect often means a reliance on narrative over gameplay. Compare To The Moon and Last Of June, which both deal with old men reliving their memories of their relationships and lives as a whole. Last of June clearly relies on happy memories in order to make players want to reverse what happened and thus completely negate the grieving process. To The Moon, on the other hand, puts you in the role of two bystanders with no personal stake in the relationship, which results in a more passive experience.

One game that achieved a good balance between actively dealing with your memories and letting the stones fall as they may is a bit of a surprise: right until its end Hellblade made it seem like you were following the Orpheus and Eurydice plot of resurrecting a lover, only to realise that the true strength lies in letting go.

There is still a lot of fun to be had with the mundane aspects of love and everyday life together. If Octodad managed to make household chores chaotic fun, the same is possible for romantic gestures. If David Cage thinks brushing your teeth is a gameplay element worth including, then so is racing (or, er, crawling) through inner-city traffic to get your partner to their doctor's appointment on time.

When it comes to the portrayal of physical acts, many experimental games with a focus on sex currently lead the way. The physical signs of falling in love and touching should be part of what makes a good romance - hugging and holding hands are platonic actions that are great to express mechanically, and great things in general.

Even regarding the popular mechanics that exist, like the aforementioned dialogue options, there's more that can be done. Dialogue options still look too much like morality options that feature an added option to flirt, which is always clearly made out as such. If you want someone to like you, you have to flirt and pick the option to be nice. How about less clear-cut options instead? After all, it's often especially difficult to know what the right thing to say is when you would like to get to know someone better or want to impress them.

That's perhaps not the compliment you think it is.

If that leads to an argument, even better - disagreements and compromise are vital parts to any relationship, romantic or not. No one agrees all the time, and you should be able to experience that through play. Disagreement doesn't have to mean frosty silence, even though it is a good measure to show players they don't control everything. Mass Effect Andromeda takes steps in the right direction with crew members openly disapproving with your actions to the point of not speaking to you at all. However, this has no lasting consequences, particularly not once you have entered into a relationship with one of them.

There needs to be more commitment to romance that is nothing but. Alone With You bills itself as a sci-fi romance adventure, but its romantic portions are sidequests, easily used as means to an end in order to obtain information. In other games, romancing a companion means always having someone who carries your stuff and helps you in battle.

In comparison, Final Fantasy IX and X develop the relationship between their protagonists slowly from initial attraction into something based on shared experiences. That way love develops through shared experiences, and not at the player's insistence, and there is no direct boon to gameplay.

If a game places importance on romance, romance should extend past the act of starting a relationship to reflect the effort that it takes to maintain one. That could also mean moving away from "relationship pick and mix", where the only thing that matters is who you want to date, and you can drop partners to immediately replace them with another. While technically complicated, games could invest in compatibility the way online dating simulators do. It's by no means a fool-proof system, but it's an example to illustrate how difficulty in finding the right person to spend your days with should surpass the difficulty of buying a pint of milk, even in a game.

Sometimes you just want to bonk a weirdly good-looking alien in a game, and that's okay. Among the many complex subjects games cover in-depth, subjects that are equally important to the human experience, a thorough exploration feels overdue. After all, love is a many-splendored thing after all, and it's rewarding to treat it as such.

[gamingtipsandtrickshacks]

Video game romance is broken • Eurogamer.net

Florence, a short mobile game by the developer Mountains, covers more ground on the topic of romantic love in under an hour than most games have for decades. It does so by focusing on a few small watershed moments of being in love, from developing an interest in someone to the pleasures and hurdles of domestic co-existence to letting go of a relationship that no longer works.

When thinking about romance in games, towering examples like Dragon Age and Mass Effect come to mind, games that made dating a major part of their appeal. Many other games, such as the Final Fantasy series, frequently include romantic subplots in their narrative. In visual romance novels like Clannad and Dream Daddy, dating is the main point of the exercise. Other games focus on tragic love and its aftermath, like Last Of June.

Generally romance in video games can be subdivided into the act of falling in love and love as a catalyst for certain stories and plot points. These are undoubtedly important and exciting aspects of love and romance, but aspects only. Florence's designer Ken Wong calls them milestones - situations everyone who has been in a relationship can identify with, small moments that stay with us even years later due to the sheer impact they had on us at the time.

Many games confuse being impactful with being dramatic, which is understandable when you look at popular love stories like Romeo and Juliet or Orpheus and Eurydice that stood the test of time. Stories like these paint romance as something passionate and consuming, making it a fitting addition to action-packed and exciting plotlines. Their protagonists take control of the situation that prevents them from achieving happiness together: in Romeo and Juliet, Juliet takes a sleeping potion in a bid to avoid marrying someone else, in Orpheus and Eurydice Orpheus refuses to accept the death of his wife.

Discussing relationships in To the Moon.

Control is what makes the power fantasies of so many games work. Most games still loathe wresting control away from their players, even though a lack of control is in many ways an important component to navigating a relationship - after all, it takes two to tango. The most egregious example of giving players total control over a romance is Dragon Age: Inquisition. The Inquisitor gathers people around them who are impressed with their accomplishments and who keep affirming their status as someone special. Solas, for example, says he "felt the whole world change" within moments of meeting the Inquisitor, Blackwall remarks on the importance of the Inquisitor so fervently you can start flirting with him immediately after recruiting him. Other characters, such as Cullen, react to your direct approach with discomfort that always takes the form of adorable shyness rather than rejection.

Until you decide to commit to a relationship, you are free to flirt with everyone without repercussions, and if you want to end the relationship at any point, you can do so. It's entirely in your power. There is exactly one time a partner comes close to ending it with you, and you are given the option to prevent it.

Games like Dragon Age or visual romance novels are all about saying the right thing to get someone to like you. An alternative of this mechanic which basically does the same sort of thing is gift-giving. Granted, in Stardew Valley for example it's not necessarily the rarest gift that ends up the most appreciated, but the overall message is that saying what someone would like to hear and giving them what they want is the way to success.

Since Florence is set in the modern world, it portrays milestones from later stages of a relationship that are deliberately mundane. It's important to note that it just presents them and doesn't allow players to change events. This way it avoids bias and makes it clear that some things just happen, both good and bad.

In Dragon Age I have all the power.

Games like to shy away from the difficult aspects of relationships in their endeavour to let us win. In addition to that, wanting to handle these aspects with the necessary respect often means a reliance on narrative over gameplay. Compare To The Moon and Last Of June, which both deal with old men reliving their memories of their relationships and lives as a whole. Last of June clearly relies on happy memories in order to make players want to reverse what happened and thus completely negate the grieving process. To The Moon, on the other hand, puts you in the role of two bystanders with no personal stake in the relationship, which results in a more passive experience.

One game that achieved a good balance between actively dealing with your memories and letting the stones fall as they may is a bit of a surprise: right until its end Hellblade made it seem like you were following the Orpheus and Eurydice plot of resurrecting a lover, only to realise that the true strength lies in letting go.

There is still a lot of fun to be had with the mundane aspects of love and everyday life together. If Octodad managed to make household chores chaotic fun, the same is possible for romantic gestures. If David Cage thinks brushing your teeth is a gameplay element worth including, then so is racing (or, er, crawling) through inner-city traffic to get your partner to their doctor's appointment on time.

When it comes to the portrayal of physical acts, many experimental games with a focus on sex currently lead the way. The physical signs of falling in love and touching should be part of what makes a good romance - hugging and holding hands are platonic actions that are great to express mechanically, and great things in general.

Even regarding the popular mechanics that exist, like the aforementioned dialogue options, there's more that can be done. Dialogue options still look too much like morality options that feature an added option to flirt, which is always clearly made out as such. If you want someone to like you, you have to flirt and pick the option to be nice. How about less clear-cut options instead? After all, it's often especially difficult to know what the right thing to say is when you would like to get to know someone better or want to impress them.

That's perhaps not the compliment you think it is.

If that leads to an argument, even better - disagreements and compromise are vital parts to any relationship, romantic or not. No one agrees all the time, and you should be able to experience that through play. Disagreement doesn't have to mean frosty silence, even though it is a good measure to show players they don't control everything. Mass Effect Andromeda takes steps in the right direction with crew members openly disapproving with your actions to the point of not speaking to you at all. However, this has no lasting consequences, particularly not once you have entered into a relationship with one of them.

There needs to be more commitment to romance that is nothing but. Alone With You bills itself as a sci-fi romance adventure, but its romantic portions are sidequests, easily used as means to an end in order to obtain information. In other games, romancing a companion means always having someone who carries your stuff and helps you in battle.

In comparison, Final Fantasy IX and X develop the relationship between their protagonists slowly from initial attraction into something based on shared experiences. That way love develops through shared experiences, and not at the player's insistence, and there is no direct boon to gameplay.

If a game places importance on romance, romance should extend past the act of starting a relationship to reflect the effort that it takes to maintain one. That could also mean moving away from "relationship pick and mix", where the only thing that matters is who you want to date, and you can drop partners to immediately replace them with another. While technically complicated, games could invest in compatibility the way online dating simulators do. It's by no means a fool-proof system, but it's an example to illustrate how difficulty in finding the right person to spend your days with should surpass the difficulty of buying a pint of milk, even in a game.

Sometimes you just want to bonk a weirdly good-looking alien in a game, and that's okay. Among the many complex subjects games cover in-depth, subjects that are equally important to the human experience, a thorough exploration feels overdue. After all, love is a many-splendored thing after all, and it's rewarding to treat it as such.