Look, I’m not what you’d call a “gamer.” I’m more of a “person who likes to sit in a blanket cocoon and pretend I’m inside a different universe where laundry doesn’t exist.” But over the years, a few games have carved out permanent little homes in my heart — like emotional support franchises, but with more boss fights and fewer therapy bills.

So here they are: my top video games, explained with the seriousness and academic rigor of someone who once threw a tantrum because she couldn’t find all the moons in Mario Odyssey.

1. Hogwarts Legacy — The Game That Let Me Live My Hufflepuff Truth

This game is everything I wanted as a kid reading Prisoner of Azkaban under the covers with a flashlight:
✨ Cozy common rooms
✨ Magical chaos
✨ The ability to yeet enemies off cliffs with ancient spells I absolutely should not have access to

I spent 40% of my time exploring, 40% decorating my Room of Requirement like a Pinterest board come to life, and 20% judging NPCs who clearly needed a nap and a therapist.

Also, I’m proud to report that I played as a Hufflepuff and still managed to be slightly unhinged. Balance.

2. Pokémon Snap — Therapy, But Make It Photography

Pokémon Snap is the only game where my main objective is to yell “LOOK AT THAT LITTLE GUY” every 12 seconds.

It’s peaceful. It’s wholesome. It’s basically a safari where nothing tries to kill you and everything is adorable. If real photography were like this, I’d have a National Geographic contract by now.

My favorite part is how the game pretends I’m doing serious scientific research when really I’m just taking 47 identical photos of a Pikachu because “this one has slightly more joy in its eyes.”

3. Mario Odyssey — A Fever Dream I Happily Live In

Mario Odyssey is what happens when someone gives a plumber a hat with possession powers and says, “Go nuts.”

The plot makes absolutely no sense, but that’s fine because the vibes are immaculate. You run around collecting moons like a caffeinated raccoon, you turn into a T‑rex for reasons never fully explained, and you fight a giant bird made of soup.

It’s chaos. It’s nonsense. It’s perfect.

Also, the soundtrack goes unnecessarily hard. Like, “Why am I crying in the Metro Kingdom” hard.

4. Donkey Kong — The Original Source of My Trust Issues

Donkey Kong is the reason I have the reflexes of a startled cat and the emotional resilience of someone who has been personally betrayed by a barrel.

This game does not care about your feelings.
It does not care about your hopes, dreams, or desire to “just have a relaxing evening.”

It will humble you.
It will mock you.
It will make you question your life choices.

And yet… I keep coming back. Because apparently I enjoy suffering with a side of nostalgia.

🎮 Final Thoughts

These games are my comfort food — the digital equivalent of mac and cheese, fuzzy socks, and yelling “OH COME ON” at the TV while James calmly hands me a snack because he knows I’m about to spiral.

If you need me, I’ll be in the Room of Requirement, photographing Pokémon, chasing moons, or being emotionally destroyed by a gorilla with a grudge.