It’s not every day I finish a video game these days. Or every week, or every month, or even every year.
It wasn’t always so. Video games used to be my go-to hobby, the thing I turned to first when I needed to unwind after a long day. Games were my escape. My play after work. My fun in a hectic world. Dreams realized, even if only fictionally, of being a hero and exploring fantastical new worlds.
My husband and I met through work, when we both worked in games. In the early days of dating and living together, we would spend entire weekends in our gaming chairs, the windows open for fresh air, snacking on takeout while we played Destiny from dawn to dusk (and then some). One of my favorite memories from those days is waking up at 5am to play Gears of War together before work. No reason, just because.
As a parent, who has the energy for that?
Five o’clock wake-ups are no longer a rarity for me. (I sometimes wish they were!) But nowadays, there is no way I would have the mental and emotional capacity to jump up, at that hour, for something as over-the-top stimulating as gaming.
I guess you could say I’ve changed since becoming a parent. Sadly, I don’t have much time to game anymore. More than that, I lack the energy for it. Too many nights, I crash on the couch with ice cream and mindless TV, too exhausted to sharpen a virtual blade for a boss fight or wander a digital forest squinting at a confusing mini-map. Anything that requires effort—even fun effort, like a good game—sounds like too much work after a day keeping a small human alive.
But by the time my son turned two, my husband and I were feeling nostalgic for the good old days when we used to stay up all night playing video games together. We missed spending that kind of quality time side by side. Night after night of TV just doesn’t cut it. We wanted to bond again. To have hobbies. To play. To have fun, just for ourselves.
So, we picked up Split Fiction.
Hazelight Studios is known for making exceptional cooperative games like A Way Out and It Takes Two. There’s something so nostalgic about a good couch co-op game, and Hazelight’s feature clever mechanics along the way. One minute, you might be platforming across giant kids’ blocks; the next, you’re in a retro fighting game-style battle against a giant squirrel. Best of all, these games full of warm-hearted humor—and they’re just plain fun.
My husband and I played It Takes Two (or most of it) a few years back. It’s about parents on the brink of divorce who are magically turned into dolls, and then have to find a way back. Traveling through their home—now gigantic all around them—they remember their passions and original love for each other and their daughter. (Ironically, we played it before becoming parents, but I’m sure it would hit much harder now!)
Fast-forward to 2025, and my husband and I were hearing rave reviews about Split Fiction. “Wouldn’t it be nice to game together again?” we said. If Split Fiction had even half of the magic and creativity of It Takes Two, we knew we were in for a smashing good time.
So what did we think of Split Fiction?
Honestly, it was even better than we’d anticipated.
In Split Fiction, you play as two very different writers—both young women recruited to a virtual reality company for their stories. What they don’t realize is that the company’s CEO is a big baddie who just wants to steal their story ideas. (Remind anyone else of AI?)
When the virtual reality machines go haywire, the two women get trapped inside their own story worlds—together.
At first, Mio and Zoe are opposites—right down to the genres they write (science fiction and fantasy, respectively). Where Mio is tough and guarded, insisting her stories are never about herself, Zoe is whimsical and open, quick to wax nostalgic about her childhood fantasy worlds.
The buddy story blossoms as the two are forced to work together to escape the virtual world. Along the way, they bounce between their stories, which are brought to life all around them in wildly imaginative ways. Naturally, they learn about each other—and how their pasts, including Mio’s, inevitably work their way into their writing.
By the time they reach the end of their epic journey, they’re no longer reluctant partners, but real friends.
The gameplay is just as creative as it was in It Takes Two. Every level introduces a new mechanic that forces you to communicate and adapt. One minute you’re solving physics-based puzzles; the next, you’re flying through a sci-fi battlefield or navigating a magical forest straight out of a childhood fairytale. My favorite level was actually an optional side quest called “Moon Market,” where you navigate a cozy, witchy village with Halloween vibes and Studio Ghibli energy.
Split Fiction is chock-full of memorable moments. I loved having a dragon. I loved shooting my way through a high-speed cyberpunk world. I loved turning into a monkey and, at another point in the game, a hot dog. (And yes, my husband and I also cracked up about playing a pig who farts to fly.) There were hilarious moments and heartfelt ones too—and somehow, it all works to create an unforgettable experience.
I think two things made Split Fiction a favorite for me:
- The science fiction and fantasy worlds you experience throughout the game. As a lifelong fan of those genres, it was such a blast to battle through levels that felt straight out of Mass Effect or to ride dragons like I’d stepped into an epic fantasy novel. The game feels like a love letter to storytelling itself.
- The female protagonists are writers! It’s always meaningful to see yourself represented in a game, and I definitely felt that as a woman writer just like Mio and Zoe. Watching Mio wrestle with vulnerability in her writing, seeing Zoe’s bravery in remembering a happy childhood that turned tragic… all of it felt deeply personal in a way I didn’t expect.
Split Fiction is just fun. That alone is enough to recommend it. The fact that you get to play with a partner—a friend, a sibling, or perhaps a spouse, like I did—just makes it more meaningful. And its earnest story about family, friendship, and trauma makes it something truly special.
I fell in love with these characters and their stories.
And maybe most unexpectedly, I fell in love with playing games again—especially with my husband, at a time when we both needed to rediscover that joy.
It took us several months to work our way through the game. Gaming wasn’t a nightly occurrence in our house, and we definitely didn’t have the energy to stay up until 2am like we once did. But we had a good time. We laughed. We figured things out together. We enjoyed not just playing a game, but the act of play itself—the simple experience of having fun for its own sake, without productivity, without pressure, without an objective beyond enjoying each other’s company.
Maybe that’s why I chose “play” as my word of the year.
That’s the kind of energy I want in my life now. I want my son to grow up around it. But I also want it for myself.
So this year, I say: bring on the games.
Have you played It Takes Two or Split Fiction? What are your favorite co-op games?
— Ashley
Photo Credit: PlayStation & Hazelight websites
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