#living playground (game)

[hybbat]

You know a world where your ability to carry something is determined by quantity rather than size or weight is very easy to accept in a video game, because of mechanical convenience, but would probably be so strange in a story in any other medium, and I think a few more books and shows could stand to get a little funkier with the fundamentals of their reality like that.

#just casually make a setting that functions different on a fundamental level #this is genuinely my favourite thing about minecraft fics is the absolutely alien setting #that gets treated very casually and with a 'thats just how the world works' mentality #people can exist in multiple worlds and the code that makes them them can be accessed and casually altered #and no one has any ethical problems with admins doing so #there is a clear and defined divide between players and mobs on all levels except emotional #but also players treat their own body as a toy the change and throw around because death means nothing #minecrafts a good one for it because the game has zero story its just a playground for creativity #but i think about final fantasy where entire skillsets are contained in some item or clothing and swapped between #or gta where it costs money to come back to life #theres plenty of media that explores the idea of lives or retries as a mechanic and a story element #but what about the fact that man made objects being and inherent part of the reality to where #a fundamental function such as peoples lives can be restored by paying money #not in a theres a god of greed sense but in a thats just how reality works #a lot of these things get placed on a godlike being when they do pop up and i think thats the boring route #let your setting just function different beyond magic being present #have the characters world and thus mindset be alien

[snickerdoodlles]

having a lot of thoughts right now at 4am about chay being ruthless

there’s a specific animorphs quote i’m thinking of:

"People don't understand the word ruthless. They think it means 'mean.' It's not about being mean. It's about seeing the bright, clear line that leads from A to B. The line that goes from motive to means. Beginning to end. It's about seeing that bright, clear line and not caring about anything but the beautiful fact that you can see the solution. Not caring about anything else but the perfection of it." — Marco, The Reunion by K.A. Applegate 

specifically the bit: It's about seeing the bright, clear line that leads from A to B. 

now, i dont think chay from season 1 is ruthless. but i very much see him as having the makings of it. chay has a very simple and direct approach to things; he sees something he wants, so he pursues it (he asks his idol for lessons their first meeting, he doesn’t let kim skip out on tutor lessons, he confesses twice because he had a homework goal and then a personal goal, he wants the truth so he confronts kim that same day, etc). and we see this theme of ‘chay has a goal, chay pursues goal’ most often with kim because they specifically foil each other in this. kim has a grand speech about making sacrifices to achieve your goals, but he’s stagnant between the world he was borne into and cant fully leave because of his brothers, vs the soft bright world he wants to be in but cant because he comes bearing blood. this directly contrasts with chay, who pursues his goals fullheartedly and recklessly

now, chay's not ruthless. not...yet. but there’s also these little...hints of a ruthlessly practical mindset to him. the most standout point for me in this regard was episode 1 when porsche is worried about his uncle. he’s sent arthee away, but he’s still planning “how do i get uncle out of trouble, and how do i maximize it?”

but chay? chay’s straight up like “uncle’s problems aren’t ours, lets just runaway to go live your dream of owning a bar on the beach”

i love this scene between porsche and chay so much. not only is really heartwarming, but i think it rly solidifies who they are as characters right off the bat. porsche is a caretaker. he takes care of everyone around him, whether he has an obligation to or not. but chay is fully ready to just leave their uncle behind. uncle interferes with brother’s and mine’s future plans? then no uncle in future plans. chay doesn’t even seem to mourn nor care that his uncle, one of his two caretakers left, is just gone from his life after ep1. like...that’s a really cold assessment for a teenager to make about one of his two living family members (that he knows of)

for me, what holds chay back from tipping into any sort of ruthless so far is mostly his naivety. not innocence (chay is not innocent yes i am still fighting on this hill), but he has certain expectations of the world that don’t necessarily match what the world is. to me, this shows most clearly when he sees warning flags (”...how do you know i have a brother?”) but is fully willing to ignore them in favor of pursuing his original goal(s) instead of taking the warning flags into account. and since he doesn’t plan for them, when some of those flags grow into actual problems, they really trip him up in ways he’s not prepared to handle. but he doesn’t have that any more at the end of season 1

if we do get a second season, i would be v curious to see where chay’s character develops. im apparently the outlier lol, but i actually really love where kim and chay ended in s1. they were on a trajectory to crash in the middle and instead they missed and landed where the other started. kim, the kid running away from the things he’s always wanted, puts himself out there with zero expectation or surety that chay will reach back. chay lingers over the video, unsure if he wants to respond to it or block it, so he throws his phone away to deal with it another time. and it’d just be really interesting to see how these two characters would react following the same trajectory the other one originally did, but coming at it with a very different background/development. and for chay specifically, i would just rly love to see how his ep1 “lets just abandon uncle to the debtors and go live our dreams on a beach” hints might come back/come into play in a mafia world setting

#this is v stream of conscious like. this isnt anything super serious. 5am is not a time for serious lol #anyways. i have. thoughts. #didnt want to expand in the post bc this is SO very much thumb tacks and strings and headcanons but. i also want to see chay's ruthlessness #and how it might mirror/follow namphueng's ruthlessness specifically #my read on namphueng is that she's playing her own game. and whatever game she's playing for her survival. she did it knowing that she'd hav #*have to abandon her sons and that she cant/wont reveal anything to them right away #there's some fun ideas to play with there between porsche's phoenix symbolism and korn's chess bs #so i would rly love to see like. porsche v much takes after his dad in his caretaker and big heart traits #where as chay is v much namphueng's son and they have a bright clear line between point a and point b they'll pursue without hesitation #there's a fun playground in there between chay and korn but that probably interests me exclusively bc it relates to talk shit get hit series #lol ANYWAYS i personally would love for namphueng backstory and a namphueng backstory that includes her selling out her original family #specifically (i mean the family the theerapanukuls killed and took her from). then namphueng tried to get away from them #that would be v fun for me its the top of my s2 bucket list #btes if ive misspelled anything shhhhhhh its 5am ive been up since before 7am spelling isnt real #this isnt rly meant to be anything lol just. been keeping me up all night. oof. #kinnporsche #mine: kinnporsche #pls stop saying chays this weeping willow or doe-eyed bambi or innocent bean or whatever i am so tired lol #chay did not abandon his uncle to the wolves for this kind of slander lol #he did not sell himself like he was living a y/n fanfic for you to box him into innocent maiden tropes #he didnt push every step of his and kims brief relationship for yall to make kim the dom lmao #.......promise im done. this isnt a tag whine lol. its just like. idk. did yall forget the shit chay's pulled in canon #he's the same wavelength of insane as kim thats why they work #tag rambles #tag rambles: kinnporsche

[game-meak]

I made a Halloween game!   It’s pretty silly and mostly walking and talking, but I hope you have fun anyway.

[DOWNLOAD]

#rpg maker #rpg maker game #rpgmaker #living playground #haze's hectic halloween happenstance #game download

[manicpixiefelix]

Took a nap in the middle of the day and had the most bizarre series of dreams, some were in fact nightmares, HOWEVER Ollie and Felix were in the last one??? Felix Catton continues to be the most beautiful man I've ever seen in my conscious or unconscious life???? All I got was one of the best and most real feeling kisses I've ever had in a dream, and I'm so mad I woke up. :(

cannot escape Saltburn or the Felix/Reader/Oliver fantasies even while asleep it seems...

(my tags are for posterity lol sorry but if you wanna read the full dream go right ahead. I reached the tag limit but all that was left was essentially the main text of this post lol)

#i will say the early part of the dream was very different. i Was jason momoa for a while there. also a child. also maybe peacemaker #evan Peters as magneto was tearing apart school buses and children and also he fucked my (whoever i was as jason momoa) mom which i saw?? #then there was two of me (jason momoa)?? he also may have become peacemaker i might be misremembering. we were in the jungle #no metal so he wasnt a threat #except he was peacemaker and i (artie the writer in the body of jason momoa) am not a good fighter and he bullied me for it. womp womp #then we were saved by a tribe of superheroes who lived in the jungle and were definitely pitting us against each other #but i wasnt Jason momoa anymore except i was when i was swinging through the jungle like george of the jungle #but i was me when i got to the beach and started swimming and hunting for food and shoving every random piece of food into my mouth #except the eel which i was told i had to cook 😞 #cooked the eel over a tealight at the beach camp/tribe which i was apparently part of even though i was meant to have been with the forest #also spoke to some irl collegues from the festivals i worked at last year and aparently as an 'initiate' to the tribe i and the others #have to find a place to sleep in the open #also that theres some kind of game???? some weird game that happens with the forest tribe initiates???? like hide and seek #and we on the beach only have a set time to prepare #immediately me and the rest of the beach initiates are like Get Fukt were not sleeping on the sand and gravitate towards #the weird warehouse based playground?? that was there for some reason?? and had so many security cameras??? what was my mind doing honestly #its under cover but the two other initiates im close to now dont feel like its secure enough to not be found #also the hide and seek aspect now has sinister undertones for those doing the hiding it seems. its more nightmare again #im a very awkward person irl with touch (its the autism lol) so it was big of me to hold hands with this dude #because we were running out of time to hide and i was afraiddddd #for the record i shouldnt have been lmfao #ANYWAYS idk when or who gives me the tip that i should hide on the other side of these weird black bed frame situations #but im assured by a girl i went to uni with (maddy i lov u thanks for cameoing in my dream???) that it works??? #so im squeezed up in the corner behind this loft bedframe and it turns out the hiders can see like it's a sunny daytime #seekers are going around in the dark #makes it much less spooky #also it means i just got to watch fi and ollie (and others) being hot and essentially hunting people down #(hm do i have a thing for predator/prey dynamics??? that's future arties problem to think about) #the point is fi and ollie find my friend maddy #who is just in front of me but i duck out of their grasp consistently but they're weirdly persistent so much that even maddy comments on it

[thewingedwolf]

i hate the way people will say the most out of pocket nonsense about Latinos in the US and then act surprised when people say they’ve got some racism issues. “oh if it weren’t for the fact that people in the USA hate everyone with ancestry from Latin America, lock Latino children in cages even under democratic presidents, and regularly hop on tv to call all Latinos evil rapists and murderers, they’d all be considered white” yeah no SHIT if literally every aspect of how Latinos in the US are racialized was different, they would be racially categorized in a different way, that is a very intelligent thing to say about race relations and doesn’t at all exacerbate issues thanks you are so wise and educated and learned

#i followed someone on here that did this too. like ‘i can’t be racist against latinos bc a lot of them are white’ firstly if u start calling #italians dirty immigrants who have too many kids someone is going to rightly call u a bigot it doesn’t *matter* the race of the person if #you are purposefully engaging in bigotry against that person bc of their ethnicity! and SECONDLY #like…a lot of asians are light skinned a lot of indigenous people are white a lot of arabs look white etc etc #every group has a lot of variance bc people are varied. just bc a large swatch of arabs ‘look white’ doesn’t mean they are treated that way #it is not different with latinos. you are zeroing in on this specific group to justify your ‘i don’t hate latinos i just think they should #live with Their People and not with My People’ racism bc you think hating another minority will gain you privilege with white supremacy. #they are trying to coup several countries right now bc this country views latin america as it’s fucking war games playground do not talk to #me about privilege that latinos apparently have when my aunt was frantically telling students to keep their parents from work bc there was #a fucjing ice raid going on in the city!!!!!!!! fuck you genuinely!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #rani makes text posts no one will read #also the way people will pretend like latinos are the *only* voting block of poc that vote conservative. EVERY SINGLE VOTING BLOCK DOES THIS #TO SOME EXTENT. YES EVEN YOURS SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP YOU MORON #COME AND ACTUALLY INTERACT WITH THE BORICUAS AND MEXICANOS AND CUBANOS IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD BEFORE SPOUTING OFF ABOUT THEIR WHITE PRIVILEGE #L O O K AT THE WAY THE COPS TREAT US THE GOVERNMENT TREATS US OUR NEIGHBORS *LIKE YOU* TREAT US #THEN YOU CAN RUN YOUR MOUTH

[octoooo]

Yall, Sonic music is so !!!

AAARUGJCHHH *combusts*

Like its REALLY intense and GREAT for a cartoon hedgehog and I LOVE it

This could apply to just about any Sonic song but I’m talking about the Sonic Heroes theme in particular.

#Sonic heroes (theme) is my jam never played the actual game #used to play Sonic 2 on PS2 with my brother and we’d watch the Sonic Heroes trailer over and over and over and over and #like as soon as the music starts I can picture Sonic’s blue ass running through a field & hopping on rocks #hcjddj hopping thru treees n shit only for him to almost fall but Tails won’t let him #& knuckles forcing his way thru thick stone slabs #just each of them doing their thing to care for the group #Tails and Knyckles comes up and as these big ass stones fall behind the trio Sonic grabs their hands and speed off #actually did that on the playground with my friends now that I think about it #anyway Sonic music is great #I Am (All of Me) Live and Learn & Sonic Heroes theme of course #escape from the city & Reach for The Stars <33 #FUCK SONIC HAS GREAT MUSIC #like….all of the music from 2d sonic #I haven’t heard all the music from 3d Sonic but I’m getting there One Game at a time #sonic the hedgehog #coconut octo (mod talking) #sonic music

[afamiliarsword]

Ah... How I wish to see an MMORPG/Oblivion-like with good art direction *Gazes longingly*

#It's an understandable tradeoff and technically the final fantasy one and wow are well made graphically and all that #BUT I MEAN MOODY #WITH GOOD ART DIRECTION #Like stuff where it's clearly designed to make you feel like you're a small part of a large world instead of focusing on the coding side #which is understandable if you make any large scale project like that #But dang man #If Oblivion just had like #A bit more love put into it #some funky ass shaders #Permanent odd fog #The feeling that you're walking through lived places #And like some wider variations of races and stuff to role play as #Then I would kiss that game on the head #Don't look at me Elder scrolls stop not being an rpg which is more a mod playground than anything #Especially when you take most of the npcs into consideration like come on #It'd be so cool to have some use out of talking to npcs and living in the world instead of going from place A to B for quests #Like it's a meme pretty much how pressing rumors does nothing #It's obviously a product of the process with it all but it'd be so cool to ask an npc about what they do for a living #And they show you around or something to give you a greater intrigue to their homes #Maybe you ask a fisher what their story is and you go on a little fishing trip or it cuts away to you two having a drink about it #And he just talks and talks about how his life has been and then asks you what you've got going on and then you could build character! #It'd be so cool to see that with strong art direction! #Oogling and boogling with my eyes at the idea #But it's difficult so lets hope a dedicated group of people get to it with love for it #Me that is me I want to do that #shenanigans

[chipistrate]

Some little doodles after finishing the Living Playground! Can’t wait to play Witches Puppet!

Tony(tiny) is from the Living Playground by @game-meak

Blue Girl and Koen(blue outline and fluffy hair) are from a game I’m working on called @dream-trail-rpg

I am a simple man, I see RPG, I draw RPG with own RPG

No but actually- Living Playground was fun! I really loved the characters- and the mirror shots on the first floors bathroom mirror were so cute! (random thing to compliment, but I really liked them!) The boss fight was also AWESOME! Short but sweet! And the story is also very intriguing- And the visuals were so nice and high quality as well! I loved the character sprites and the boss animations! And the everything hand drawn was so unbelievably high quality- it’s just so pleasant to look at! Overall a very nice game! Very fun, even if I did get stuck a few times- lmao I’ll probably play Witches Puppet later today- but for now I’m going to sleep See you when this is posted!

#Fun fact! I learned about Living Playhouse through Meakas business card that came with my order! #I saw they made games and immediately had to check it out #And if you haven't already- you should too! #Living Playground #Dream Trail #Tony #Tony (Living Playground) #Koen #Koen Dream Trail #Blue Girl #Blue Girl Dream Trail #My art #Doodle #I saw Tony's curl and my thought was oh my god Koen Dream Trail #it's not even an official part of his design- #but it's so burnt into my brain that anytime I see a character with a swirl it reminds me of him #This is a hole of my own digging

[thescarletgarden1990]

Ten First Line Game

Ten first lines game!

Rules: Share the first line of ten of your most recent fanfics and then tag ten people. Don't have ten? Not to worry, just share what you have (ignore if you’ve been tagged)

Tagged by @enygma0710 Thank you, darling!

1. Playground Love

Dany was seven when her family left Braavos.

2. Let us live at dawn

They hadn’t seen the sun for weeks.

3. The girl in my story has always been you (with @adecila)

One of the cart’s wheels made a squeaking noise as she pushed it amidst the stacks. Dany made a mental note to oil it later, wary of the irritated glances coming from the people that frequented the library. She tried to ignore them as she placed the books back onto the shelves, lining the spines carefully, but still froze in her steps when she saw his frown.

4. Enter You (with @tomakeitbeautifultolive)

They were right there. Just dangling on the tip of his tongue. He could feel them.

5. All Cops Are Bastards

The acrid stench of smoke rendered it impossible to breathe without experiencing fits of coughing, despite the handkerchiefs and balaclavas everyone was wearing. Shrieks and shouts, the noise of glass breaking loudly, and war-like chants in the distance. No time to think, no time to observe. Only the hand that brandished the truncheon, and the taste of bile in his mouth.

6. In the Midnight Hour

It felt incredible. The fear and terror subsided, leaving his mind free to be washed by a sensation of awe and wonder. The black scales were hot under his fingertips, and the big, intelligent eyes of the gigantic dragon seemed to connect with his very soul. He never felt that scared and happy and whole at the same time before, ever. Jon patted the dragon's scaly snout as he would do Ghost's, hand trembling with reverence. Suddenly, a deafening sound exploded in his ears, scaring the shit out of him. Was he about to become dragon supper?

7. If it’s the last thing I do (with @adecila)

The Red Keep was still at night, the halls and chambers barely seeming to belong to the same castle when illuminated only by the candlelight. Ned appreciated the quiet, the way this despicable place only seemed to become bearable when everyone else was sleeping. But even in the comforting silence of the night, punctuated only by the soft footsteps of some handmaiden, he couldn’t shake the mounting feeling of dread from his heart.

8. Little Winter Rose (with @tomakeitbeautifultolive)

Once upon a time, when stags and lions ruled the seven kingdoms, and the wolves hid the fire in the frozen North, there lived a man. Now this man was easily a hundred years old, if not a full twenty years more. He had been content to live his life in peace and put himself at the service of others, but now, old as he was, he couldn’t seem to feel joy anymore. Tragedy had befallen his dynasty, and now he was the last one standing of his name.

9. The Wrong Impression of the Right One (with @adecila and @tomakeitbeautifultolive)

The evening was like any other, shrouded in a muted darkness gentled only by a few flickering torches along the walls. All was still but for the shadow dancing at his feet, mimicking his every movement, and all quiet but for the faint echo of iron and his restless mind. Sweat beaded his brow, a soreness settling into his arms as he slashed at the dummy again and again, hoping the repetition might dull his thoughts like the sword’s edge.

10. Foreign Affairs (with @tomakeitbeautifultolive)

Meereen was hot as a furnace, the blistering heat making the air dance in waves just above the sandy ground. It was a warmth that Jon had never felt before in his life, a welcome change from the implacable cold of the Wall. Already during his long journey in Essos, he had had to forgo the heavy clothes that were necessary in the frigid North, but now, on his third day in the city, he had finally relented and switched his black tunics for the light-coloured linen ones that they sold at the local market. It’s not like his brothers could see him, anyway, and he would be more useful to the Night’s Watch if he didn’t die of a heatstroke far away from Castle Black.

I think a lot of people have been tagged already, but if someone wants to do this feel free to participare and tag me! 

#tag game #my fics #playground love #let us live at dawn #the girl in my story has always been you #enter you #all cops are bastards fic #in the midnight hour #if it's the last thing I do #little winter rose #the wrong impression of the right one #foreign affairs

[snekdood]

id love to be able to have more hope in my life like you guys think people are supposed to but thats pretty hard when theres people who want believe the worst thing about me no matter how true it even is

#maybe if you came up to me and admitted you believed dumb shit and were sorry that'd be one thing but like #yall dont care about victims lol #so why would you care about my mental wellbeing anyways #idk i wonder why the guy who sought refuge in progressive spaces since they pretend to care about rape victims might feel hopeless with #the 0 support hes getting #give me a reason theres good in the world or prove to me you're just as self absorbed as everyone else #and only care about shit if it directs you personally #if it directly effects you* #otherwise the worlds apparently your playground where you get to point at whoever and decide they're either 100% toxic or not #and its just this fun lil game of black and white for you rather than there being real people with lives invovled #i hate everyone on this site and the only reason a lot of yall are 'progressive' is for your own self interest #like you genuinely only care bc shit effects you. thats prolly why plenty of yall refuse to see trans men as oppressed #bc the shit we go through doesnt directly effect you and thats how you'd probably normally act if you weren't trans/non binary 🤷 #aka a transphobe #prove me wrong or ill just keep going on about my life believing this bc quite frankly its the most true feeling thing ever #bc from my angle yall are some of the most selfish people.

[castletemprwine]

im gonna fucking strangle someone

#i feel like a little kid at the playground asking the other kids to play and being told their game already has enough people #it's irrational whatever my friends have their own lives too but god i am so restless #txt

[lackadaisycats]

I hope you know that literally nobody is going to be able to live up to the standard you, V*v, and Glitch have set and your arrogance and exploitation of your fanbase and connections has screwed millions of creatives out of their dreams because Hollywood is a joke that isn't worth telling and wealthy e-celebs like yourself have claimed the indie scene all to yourselves and moved the goalposts into the stratosphere.

Nope. This isn't a zero sum game. There is not some limited, prescribed number of indie trophy slots that a few studios greedily filled up, blocking everyone else out. That is not how it works. Nothing any other creator is doing - short of personally sending hired goons to your doorstep or stealing your credit cards - is taking anything away from you or preventing your success. In fact if an indie creator can manage to demonstrate that they've got something viable going, it may help to map out a pathway for others.

I think I'm not going to bother trying to address whether or not cartoons in return for support from fans - an entirely voluntary exchange - constitutes exploitation. And I'm living in the Midwest driving a 2007 economy car with 200k+ miles on it, but let's just skip past the assumptions that I'm wealthy and connected too.

Instead, let's get to the weirdly myopic notion that the indie scene is held captive by three studios. Maybe YouTube algorithms or Twitter bubbles are somewhat to blame, but in actuality there are so, so many individual people, friend groups, and small production houses out there making independent animation, I cannot possibly name them all.

Here are some anyway:

Far-Fetched Worthikids Satina | Scumhouse Noodle and Bun Punch Punch Forever Ramshackle Noodle Papajoolia | Pipi Angel Hare | The East Patch Jonni Peppers Salad Fingers Monkey Wrench Studio Heartbreak Felix Colgrave JelloApocalypse Odd1sout (started indie, got picked up by Netflix) Allie Mehner JaidenAnimations Lumi and the Great Big Galaxy Cloudrise | The Worlds Divide Telepurte RubberRoss James Lee ENA Godspeed | Olan Rogers Ollie and Scoops Meat Canyon Port by the Sea Kekeflipnote Boxtown Kevin Temmer Weebl Joel Haver CircleToons Long Gone Gulch Atlas and the Stars Animist Skibidi Toilet A Fox in Space Alex Henderson Talon Toniko Pantoja Sr. Pelo Hullabaloo Kane Pixels (started indie, picked up by A24) Homestar Runner Fennah Gods' School Alan Becker Dungeon Flippers JazLyte Psychicpebbles (started indie, Smiling Friends picked up by AS) Piemations vewn Metal Family Dead Sound chluaid Jacknjellify Betsy Lee | No Evil My Pride Cranbersher GeoExe | Gwain Saga Horatio the Vampire Mech West Playground | Rodrigo Sousa The Brave Locomotive Finchwing (+ many other Warrior Cats animators) Quazies SamBakZa Kamikaze: Trial by Fire

By no means a full list. That's just YouTube, and mostly just English language stuff, and I didn't even get to the multitudes of Warrior Cats animation collabs.

The point is, the indie landscape is vast and populated by creators new and old, making all kinds of animated media from skits, to shows, to ARGs, to films. Audience sizes vary as much as the content, stylistic approaches, subject matter, and budgets do. There are no compliance standards, no gateways to entry, no goalposts. There's not even any preset definition of success except what you decide for yourself.

Anyway, instead of nurturing your resentments, consider making something. I assure you, it's a far more rewarding use of your time and energy, and pretty much no one can stop you. ------------- EDIT- Made some additions to the list based on comments. Thanks!

#lackadaisy #lackadaisycats #animation #indie animation #this is not a list of moral endorsements #please don't come at me with your internet dramas

[strangersteddierthings]

What's Eight Plus Seven?

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five

Prompt from @devious-kitten

Steve had a mild interest in DnD as a freshmen because of a cousin or something. The interest was killed by Eddie being mean since Steve is a jock. Post vecna Eddie finds dust covered DnD handbook Steve explains and Eddie faces a still hurt Steve as a results of his biases

((Half written fic, half rambling about how it would go down. Apologies for the formatting. Also I added more angst than the prompt called for hehe))

Steve has always loved sports. This is a well-known fact. He's played on some sort of sports team from the time he was old enough for his parents to be able to sign him up.

A lesser-known fact is that Steve loves fantasy. Or, at least, he used to. On the playground in elementary school, Steve could often be found playing knights and dragons, and it was anyone's guess if he would be a knight or a dragon on any particular day.

The summer between middle and high school, Steve spent with his grandparents from his mother's side, on the farm they'd retired on in Michigan. A month long stay that he'd shared with his cousins, Amber, Robert, and Christopher. Amber and Robert are twins, four years younger than Steve, and Christopher was two years older and infinitely cooler than anyone else Steve knew.

Christopher was on the varsity basketball team at his high school when he was just a sophomore, captain of the JV football team, president of the chess club, and in a games club.

Christopher was everything Steve wanted to be now that he was going to be in high school. Minus the chess club because

It was during that summer, Steve got to indulge in playing make believe for another summer with his younger cousins, without the judgement of people (his father and peers) who thought he was too old for such things. He also got to learn about make believe for older kids, because Christopher played a game called Dungeons and Dragons with his game club the last month of school before summer break and spent many evenings going over what had happened with Steve as a captive audience.

"I wish I'd brought the books," Christopher had whispered to him one night from the bed, peaking over to look down at Steve in his sleeping bag on the floor, "we could have played."

Steve wishes he'd brought the books, too.

At the end of July, Christopher, Amber, and Robert's parents show up to pick them up, five days before Steve's scheduled flight to Indianapolis. It's a sad goodbye because one summer a year isn't enough with his cousins but they live in Washington. Steve's always jealous their parents drive all the way to pick them up, but a little proud he gets to brag about how he's flown alone since he was seven. No one else in his class can brag about that.

His mom picks him up in Indianapolis and they go back to school shopping while there.

A week later, Steve receives a package from Christopher. Inside Steve finds Advanced Dungeons and Dragons books, three of them, and even though Christopher said nothing about advanced, he's sure he can manage. On the inside cover of the players handbook, Christopher has written:

Hey Steve, I think you'd rock playing a dwarf paladin. Let's play next summer? Christopher 1981

He spends the last three weeks of summer vacation reading the player handbook cover to cover and making a character. It's slow going, because letters don't stay where they're supposed to be on the page (that's a problem he's had his whole life, so he's not surprised but he is determined), and he's never been good at math, so getting the stats down on paper isn't easy. He can't decide what he wants to play, so he makes two characters; an elf magic-user and, of course, a dwarf paladin.

(He's a little disappointed you can't be a dragon.)

Steve's never been one to dread the first day of school, but he's never actually looked forward to it, either. It's just been another day.

Until today.

Today is his first day as a high schooler. And the only people who go to the first day are Freshman, except the upper classman that have volunteered to man the booths for school activities for the last hour of the day. It's supposed to help the Freshman get the lay of the land without being overwhelming and Steve's excited for it. He needs to see if Hawkins High has a games club like Christopher's school does.

Here Steve is, that last hour of school. He's already been to the basketball booth, promising to sign up as soon as the season started, and the swim booth because he's got a pool at his house and has been swimming for as long as he can remember and knows he enjoys it. He also stops by the football booth even though he's never played, or cared much, for it. (Maybe he's trying to emulate Christopher, sue him.). So, the final thing is to see if Hawkins High offers a chess club and a game club.

Steve is delighted to see that, though there is no games club, there is a Dungeons and Dragons club! That delight wavers because of the kid manning the booth. His hair is curly and falls just below his ears, with big brown eyes. Steve hates to think it, but he'd be cute if he didn't look like he wanted to stab Steve.

"Yeah, no, keep walking," says the boy, pulling the flier with meeting information on it out from under Steve's hand, where he'd been attempting to read it.

Steve looks up, brows furrowed in confusion. "I was reading that."

"And I said no. Jocks don't play Dungeons and Dragons."

"I could," Steve says, offended. He squints at the name tag sticker slapped diagonally across the way too big jean vest this guy's wearing. E-d-d-i-e. Eddie.

"Have you ever played?"

"Well... no, but-"

"No buts. Mitch let a jock join last year and that was a nightmare. He could barely read the rule book. And with how you were squinting down at the flier, and then my name tag, you're not going to be much better."

Jokes on Eddie, Steve's already read the rule book. Even if it was slowly. "I can read just fine."

"Can you math, then? What's eight plus seven?"

"What?"

"Simple addition. Eight plus seven. What is it?"

Steve knows simple addition. This is fine. It doesn't matter than he's been put on the spot, and that math is hard for the same reason as reading. He can do this. His hand twitches with wanting to pull it up and use it to keep track. He's faster at math when he can do that, but this jerk is mean mugging him and he just knows if he moves his hand, this guy will mock him the rest of the school year.

Eight plus seven. Ok. Make it easier, get to ten. It takes adding two to the eight to get ten. Ok. Take that two away from the seven now. That makes... five! Ok. Ten plus five is-

"Dude, it's fifteen," Eddie snaps.

"I knew that!"

Scoff. "Right. How about seventeen plus six."

Steve can feel his face turning red with embarrassment but he's not going to let this jackass be right. Round up. It takes three to get seventeen to twenty, so take three away from the six-

"23. Point proven. Go. Away. Go play your jock games and leave me- us alone."

Steve opens his mouth to argue, or maybe plead, that he can do this, and that, more importantly, he wants to do this, but laughter cuts through the air and for the first time, Steve notices the audience that has gathered. Three people are laughing at him, and his inability to do mental math, and it makes Steve snap his jaw shut and swallow.

"Mental math isn't that hard, Steve," one of them, Brant, says, as he elbows the guy next to him.

"Thank you!" Eddie says, "that's what I'm saying."

"Whatever, man, like I'd want to play make believe at this age anyway," Steve mutters and rushes away.

If, two weeks later, Steve watches Kyle trip who he now knows is Eddie 'The Freak' Munson in the bathroom, and drag him into a stall for a swirly, well, no he didn't. He briefly thinks of saying something to stop Kyle, but shoves the words down and instead turns on heel and leaves that bathroom just as the sound of flushing and Eddie yelling start. The thick bathroom door does a good job of muffling the noise and if Steve feels any guilt about that, he shoves that down, too.

Besides, Kyle's the captain of the basketball team and if Steve wants a chance to be on that team, he can't stay anything. It's a well-known fact that Steve likes sports, after all. He's going to stick to that. Screw Eddie Munson and his Dungeons and Dragons club.

Steve will get to play Dungeons and Dragons with Christopher next summer.

Except, halfway through the school year, Steve and his parents quickly board a plane bound for Washington. Turns out being as perfect as Christopher was is hard. Overwhelming.

They arrive the day before the funeral, and fly out right after it. Steve barely has time to mourn before they're shuffling him back to school that Monday.

Christopher died, and with him, so does Steve's desire to be just like him. He quits the football team. He keeps basketball because he does like it, even without Christopher's influence. He can't bring himself to get rid of the Dungeons and Dragons books, but he can't look at them, either. They end up in the downstairs hall closet, forgotten on the shelf.

So, years later, after rising to the top of the food chain (no one was ever going to embarrass him like Eddie Munson had again) and then falling to the bottom (who cares about high school popularity when interdimensional monsters exist) and of course, the years of fighting against said interdimensional monsters before ending it all in spring of '86, Steve finds himself, unwillingly, agreeing to host Hellfire since the school banned the club following the events of spring break.

Damn Dustin Henderson. Steve usually has the backbone to say no but Dustin had to play up 'getting a chance to finally just be kids' and fuck, how was Steve going to say no to that? Despite how quickly his own desire to be a freshman playing Dungeons and Dragon had been squashed, he can't be the one to ruin this for them.

"Thanks for hosting, man," Eddie says when Steve lets him in. He's an hour early but had asked if that was okay. Apparently the dungeon master has a lot of prep to do? Not that Steve would know.

"Sure," Steve says, dismissively, because while Eddie and he went through hell together, and Steve carried his sorry ass out of the Upside Down, Steve can't quite let his guard down around him.

It's funny. In the Upside Down, Eddie had made a point to tell him he's changed, is a 'good dude' now. So, what's funny is how much Eddie is exactly the same person he was five years ago. He was an ass to Steve five years ago, and as far as Steve is concerned, was also an ass to Lucas for wanting to play basketball just this year.

He swears to God, if he hears one negative thing about Lucas tonight, he's punching Eddie unconscious, no matter what the rest of Hellfire will do or say about it.

Eddie's been in his dining room for maybe five minutes before he finds Steve in the living room. Steve's got a movie playing but he couldn't tell you which one. He's not really watching it.

"Do you got a table cloth for that big table? Jeff's got a set of metal dice and I'd feel like a real ass if we scratched it on accident."

Steve takes a deep breath before answering. He hates that Eddie is considerate like this, has been since spring break if Steve's being honest, but he doesn't want to see Eddie's good qualities. So, he waves in the direction of the closet. "Yeah. There should be some in the hall closet there. Help yourself."

"Thanks."

He twists on the couch to watch Eddie cross the room to the closet door, listens as the door creaks opens, hears the quiet, pleased noise Eddie lets out when his eyes land on the stack of table clothes. Steve continues to watch as Eddie just grabs the whole stack and yanks them off the top shelf.

Which means his watching as the stack of non-fabric objects, which must have been half atop the table clothes, also tumble out of the closet, bouncing off various parts of Eddie. It's a bunch of miscellaneous items. However, Steve realizes with horror, the book that bounces off Eddie's head is his copy of the Monster Manual. Eddie has stepped back in surprise (and possibly pain), so the Dungeon Master Guide and the Players Handbook bounce off his torso and leg before landing on the ground.

"Fuck," Eddie curses, before he stares down at what just assaulted him. Steve just stares at Eddie, watching as he slowly comes to comprehend what he's seeing. He watches as Eddie bends down and grabs the Player Handbook, the last thing to fall, from a top the pile. "What the-"

Steve stands, suddenly defensive, but doesn't actually say anything or move closer. He just watches as Eddie examines the book, flipping it from front to back in his hand like the title will change if he does that enough times.

Then, Eddie turns to him, bewildered. "Present for one of the kids? Thought they all had their own copies."

"No."

Eddie flips the book open. Reads the words written in there so many years ago. "Who's Christopher? Wait. 1981? You were playing D&D in 1981?"

"None of your business, and no," Steve says, now kicking into action, stomping up to Eddie and snatching the book from his hands.

Eddie hold his hands up in defense before his eyes turn mischievous. The same glint in them now that was there when Eddie'd leaned into this space in the RV and called him big boy. "Are you lying to me, Stevie? You've played before, haven't you?"

It makes Steve's blood boil. "No. I haven't played!"

"Alright. You could now, you know," Eddie says. And it's the way he says it, all nonchalant and like he's trying to be coy about it- it tips something over inside Steve. A bottle that held his humiliation and hurt from all those years ago.

"Oh, now I'm good enough for D&D? Now I can join? Aren't I too much of a jock for you!?"

"Whoa, what's with the hostility-"

"What's eight plus seven, Eddie!?" Steve snaps. His memory might be shit these days, with all the concussions, but the unfortunate part about Steve is that he always seems to remember the bad. And he remembers Freshman First Day like yesterday. "No? How about seventeen plus six? Come on, mental math isn't hard. Or don't you remember? I'm just a stupid jock too slow on the uptake, or no, what was it you said? It'll be a nightmare to play with me, 'cause I might be barely able to read the rules?"

He watches as Eddie's face morphs from confusion, to understanding and horror. "Holy shit, Steve. That was you- you wanted to join Hellfire-"

"Yeah, and you made it pretty fuckin' clear I didn't belong in it."

"I'm sorry man. I shouldn't have- if I'd known you, I never would have-"

"That's the problem, Eddie!" Steve shouts, waving the book in front of him. "You didn't know me. You looked at me and decided for me that I was going to be a jock and nothing else and then humiliated me in front of other people! You didn't even bother to try to know me. I spent three weeks reading this stupid book cover to cover because I knew I was shit at reading and I still wanted to try anyway."

He sees Eddie puffing up in anger. "Well, I wasn't exactly wrong, was I? You were a jock, a bully even!"

"Yeah, because I was a dumb, hurt kid who decided that it was better to hurt than be hurt. As if you weren't exactly the same that day, lashing out at me first, at my reading ability, and mocking me for not being quick at math. Fuck you, Munson!" Steve walks away, not hearing anything Eddie shouts after him as he sprints up the stairs and shuts himself in his room.

Steve knows he was a dick in high school, and it's not Eddie's fault he was a dick. Steve made choices he's not proud of and no one forced those choice on him. But Eddie doesn't get to throw that back in his face. Not when Eddie made him feel humiliated and stupid on the first goddamn day of high school, long before Steve became mean himself.

#pre-steddie #my fic #prompt #sophomore eddie is a jerk #but only because he thinks steves gonna be a jerk first so hes gotta beat him to it #also steves very mean to eddie in his thoughts but its only his thoughts #tw: minor character death #its an oc tho #tw: suicide implied but not stated

[pucksandpower]

if requests are open, can I pls request baby vettel telling her brothers (the grid kids) she has a "boyfriend" when she comes home from kindergarten one day ??? if requests are closed, please ignore 💗 love your works so much !!

Grid Kids: Cooties

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids take being big brothers very seriously

Series Masterlist

“No.”

Max’s voice is firm, his face aghast.

Charles, sitting next to him, nods in agreement. “I thought we agreed that you’re not allowed to date until you’re 40?”

Your daughter looks up from her crayon artwork, her little brows furrowing. “But Tommy said we’re boy ... boyfr …”

Lance interrupts, “Boyfriend and girlfriend? No, no, no. Absolutely not.”

George chimes in, holding up a toy car, “Tell whoever this Tommy is that you’re too busy racing to have a boyfriend.”

Lando adds, “Besides, boyfriends mean cooties. Do you want cooties?”

She tilts her head, pondering the dire consequences of these so-called cooties.

Charles, trying to be the voice of reason, kneels down to her level. “Sweetie, you’re a smart, wonderful little girl. And Tommy is, well ... you can do better.”

Mick, watching the entire exchange, laughs. “Guys, she’s just a kid. They’re probably just sharing crayons.”

Lando looks scandalized, “Crayons today, hearts tomorrow. It’s a slippery slope!”

Sebastian, watching the overprotective madness unfold, turns to you with a smirk, “I think our daughter has a solid set of bodyguards.”

You laugh, wrapping an arm around him. “Good luck to any actual future boyfriends.”

Your daughter simply shrugs, scribbles something on a piece of paper, and hands it to Charles. “For Tommy.”

Charles reads aloud, “We can be friends. But no cooties. Okay?”

***

The next day after school, Max bends down to your daughter’s eye level, “Now, which one is Tommy?”

She points a tiny finger to a little boy playing with a toy car on the playground. He has sandy hair and an innocent expression as he makes car noises.

Lando claps his hands together, “Alright, mates, game faces.”

George rolls his eyes but can’t help his grin, “Really? We’re really doing this?”

Lance nudges him, “We have to ensure he’s good enough for our sister!”

As the grid kids approach Tommy, he looks up, wide-eyed at the small army of grown-ups marching towards him.

Charles squats down, “Hey there, buddy. You Tommy?”

Tommy nods slowly, clutching his toy car.

George, leaning down too, tries to sound stern, “We heard you’re, uh, dating our sister.”

Lando, animatedly acting out air quotes around the word dating, adds, “We just wanted to have a quick chat.”

Mick, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious, jumps in, “You know, about intentions and all.”

Tommy blinks, “Inten-what?”

Max clears his throat, “Look, Tommy, we just want to make sure you’re treating our sister right. No stealing her toys or snacks.”

Lando jumps in again, “And absolutely no cooties. We had a long talk about that.”

Tommy nods fervently, “I don’t have cooties!”

Charles chuckles, “Good to know. So, you’ll play nice with her?”

Tommy nods again, “I promise. I just wanted to show her my new car.” He holds up the toy proudly.

George pats him on the head awkwardly, “Alright, Tommy. Just remember, we’re watching you.”

***

“Operation Sneaky Sneak is a go. Over,” Lando whispers dramatically into his walkie-talkie from his hiding spot behind a bush.

“Copy that,” George responds, trying to peer into Tommy’s living room window from a tree branch, “They’re ... playing with dolls? Oh, and there are some cookies. Over.”

Lance, hidden behind a garden gnome, chimes in, “I hope they're chocolate chip. Over.”

Charles, from his spot on top of a garden shed, adds, “No visual on any suspicious activities. Just some Barbies about to get the worst haircut of their life. Over.”

Mick, wedged between two trash cans, mutters, “Feels like we’re in a bad spy movie.”

Max, crouching behind a car, counters, “Feels? We ARE in a bad spy movie.”

Suddenly, the back door to Tommy’s house swings open and out step his parents, chatting and laughing. The grid kids freeze.

George, panicking, whispers into the walkie-talkie, “Abort mission! I repeat, abort!”

Lance tries to slink away, “Going dark! Going dark! We have been compromised.”

But it’s too late. Tommy’s mother spots them. “Um, gentlemen? What are you doing?”

Charles attempts to play it cool, “Oh, you know, just ... birdwatching. Beautiful sparrows around here.”

Tommy’s father suppresses a grin, “In our backyard? With walkie-talkies?”

Lando, thinking on his feet, responds, “Modern birdwatching. Very high tech. Over.”

Mick gives him a look, “Did you seriously just say over out loud?”

Max tries to salvage the situation, “We just wanted to ensure the playdate went ... smoothly.”

Tommy’s parents burst into laughter. “You guys really care about her, huh?”

Before anyone can respond, there’s a rustling from above. Thunk! “Ow!” Thwack! “Not the face!” Crash! “My hair!”

Everyone’s attention is immediately drawn to George who has dramatically fallen out of the tree, hitting almost every branch on the way down.

Rubbing his back, George groans from where he’s splayed on the ground, “Guess I should leave the climbing to the kids.”

Tommy’s mother takes pity on the fully grown children masquerading as adults in front of her, “Would any of you like to come in for juice boxes?”

The grid kids exchange sheepish glances. “Yes, please,” they reply in unison.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #sebastian vettel x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lance stroll x reader #george russell x reader #lando norris x reader #mick schumacher x reader #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #sebastian vettel imagine #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc imagine #lance stroll imagine #george russell imagine #lando norris imagine #mick schumacher imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader

[celestie0]

childhood friends to lovers with gojo.

warnings/tags. fluff & angst, sad ending

you two were five when he kisses ur cheek on the playground underneath the slide n you both thought that counted as a first kiss. u two were attached by the hip all throughout elementary school, i mean srs, your parents would even have joint parent teacher conferences bc there was just nothing the two of you wouldn't do together.

and then middle school came around, you joined the marching band n he joined the football team. he starts acting different around you, and it hurts. bc you two were best friends. you were always supposed to be best friends. he starts hanging out w the popular kids, and you find yourself walking home alone. summer before high school, he wants to hang out again, but you tell him you deserve better than that. and you two drift apart.

it's hard starting high school without him, watching him from afar during lunch in the cafeteria. he's with his table of phonies, acting like someone he's not, and you know because you've always known him. better than anyone else. you really wanna join the cheer team, since you've done gymnastics for a long time, but you've always been too afraid to tryout for the team. this time, you do, and you get in. now all of a sudden he wants to talk to you again, now that you're popular in high school and have earned a place on the field during his games. fuck that, you say to him, you threw away what we had just because i wasn't good enough for you to have by your side. you start dating his teammate, you two are nominated for prom queen & king, and he has to watch as you kiss someone else on stage when you win. someone that should've been him. he starts dating the cheer captain, just to show it off when he comes running to her after a winning game, kissing her right in front of you but he's not looking at her, he's looking at you. to make sure you're watching. and you do the same thing to him. and the whole time you two are wondering what are we doing to one another?

summer after high school, he shows up to your doorstep one day on his skateboard. with a box full of all the letters you used to send him as a kid. you still have yours too, somewhere tucked underneath your bed. you spend the whole afternoon laughing with him as you read through them all, laying on the carpet of your living room, and you both feel like kids again. he hovers over you when he kisses you, but you're still mad at him, and to show him how mad you are, you kiss him back. it's no use, you two are going to different colleges, you'll hardly see him, but he swears he'll call. he swears he'll fly to see you. he swears he'll never makes the same mistakes again, because he wants you. and only you. you kiss his cheek, and say okay.

and he does. he does everything he promises you. but the distance is too hard, and he was a little too late. you break up with him over a twenty-one character text sent while you're drunk at a house party your second semester at university, and he just doesn't understand. he'll never understand. and he never sees you again.

until you're both thirty-two, standing in line at the grocery store. he taps your shoulder, you turn around, you wonder if it's a stranger who wants a favor, and you realize he's so much more than that. he's the little boy that kissed your cheek underneath the slide when you were five. your first kiss. except it wasn't, was it? his face is long, and his cheeks have lost plush, but he looks so handsome it makes your heart skip a beat. you two are pleasant, exchanging it's been so long! and you look great! but when his eyes catch the twinkle of the wedding ring on your finger, his smile drops ever so slightly, and when he scratches his cheek to hide the sadness, you notice a band on his finger too. and he pays for your groceries, just to be kind. and you thank him for it, just to be kind. and you go your separate ways, never to speak again. but there's a box that still sits somewhere in your closet. and a similar one still sits in his too.

#sorry idk why tf this got sad all of a sudden #this was just supposed to be fluffy #lfmaooo?? #help #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader angst #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen #so heavily inspired by many ts songs w this one loool

[ceesimz]

Panna!

Not my best work, but it was fun to write nonetheless. FYI: panna means nutmeg, but it's also a playground/street football game where it is either a 1v1 or basically a huge free-for-all and you had to get as many nutmegs/pannas as possible - great memories :)

Living with Leah was a much different experience than you thought it would be.

The first time you met her she was a little shy but the more you got to know her, the more enamouring she was and before long you had completely fallen for her, as had she for you. Each date, you peeled back another layer of each other's personality and you saw a side to her that was inexplicably softer than the sometimes rather grumpy, stoic demeanor she had for her career. It was easy to like her, adore her, and eventually love her, and you made sure to offer her a safe space for her to let go in when she was away from the view of the public. She did the same for you, allowing you to switch off when you needed to in her presence. Ultimately, the relationship was so rewarding and comforting, it seemed almost too good to be true. In moments of self-doubt and insecurity, you felt like you were just waiting for the shoe to drop.

And when you moved into your new house together, that shoe did indeed drop, but in a way you didn't expect.

As time went on of you sharing the same space, an extremely irritating side of Leah came out in full force. You had seen glimpses of it so far of course, and it never failed to make you laugh, but living with her? It was next level.

Leah seemed to embody the nature of that of an annoying younger sibling or a tiresome teenager who had a maddening addiction to just being absolutely infuriating. When she was in a certain type of giddy mood, this habit seemed to reach new heights. You loved it, but sometimes it felt like you were going to explode with the aggravation you felt towards her.

You know that saying of if you don't react, they'll get bored and stop? Yeah, that didn't apply to Leah.

"Leah, I'm trying to cook dinner, put the football away please." You started out by asking her politely as you manned the pasta in the pot on the hob, your girlfriend doing kick-ups by the fridge.

"I'm alright here, babe. I won't get in your way, swear. Just wanna be with you, and I am bored." That's kind of sweet, you guess.

Deciding that the pasta can survive without constant surveillance, you step away from it to unload the dishwasher but clearly Leah doesn't agree with that.

"Nah, forget that, I'll do it later. Come here, one versus one." She grins, quickly flicking the ball between each foot.

"And why would I do that as someone who doesn't even know which foot to use?" You raise an eyebrow and stand across from her with your hands on your hips.

"Bit of fun, babe, lighten up. Let's do a game of panna." She teases, passing the ball to you. "You first."

"What is panna?" You frown, confused.

"Just try to nutmeg me." Leah rolls her eyes, though she knows your knowledge of football lacks compared to her as someone who lives and breathes the sport and has done all her life.

You squint your eyes sceptically at her, before slowly inching towards her and attempting to dribble the ball the way you've seen her do it probably a million times. However, as soon as you get close, she removes any gap between her feet and instead stands like a penguin.

"How am I supposed to nutmeg you when you stand like that?" You scoff, but she just smirks smugly at you and shrugs.

"No one likes a quitter."

"No one likes a stubborn girlfriend that forces her girlfriend to play a game that's impossible to win." You hit back, and a smile tugs at your lips as you see Leah suppress a laugh.

"Fine, let me go against you." She steals the ball from your feet in the blink of an eye, and now the cards are stacked impossibly against you.

"Right, 'cause this is totally fair."

You roll your eyes but nevertheless prepare to defend your pride against the decorated footballer that stands before you. This little stand off lasts all of two minutes as Leah performs as many standing tricks as she can - it's hard not to laugh because, despite the talent she's portraying, it just looks like the result of a button-spamming FIFA player.

Finally though, you gain the confidence to lunge at her to get the ball back, but Leah of course spots this immediately, and flip-flaps the ball straight between your legs.

"Panna! You just got your shit rocked, baby." She celebrates as if her performance wasn't as easy as stealing candy from a baby. You watch as she cheers quietly to herself under her breath and dances like a fool. If the world could see her now, you think.

Feeling slightly humbled, you go back to your place at the stove, finding comfort in your cooking skills at least.

...This oddly felt like you were playing into some kind of stereotype.

"Put the ball away now, please." You tell her once more, but as ever her ego takes no prisoners.

"Aw, is someone's ego hurt?" Leah pouts pitifully at you, her hands falling to your waist when she stands behind you. You weren't having it though, not when she had humiliated you purely for her own ego.

"No, I just have many dangerous weapons in my arsenal here and I wouldn't want the leader of England to come to any harm." You return the patronising pout on her face, swatting away her hands and wagging the pasta ladle you had just pulled from the boiling pan in her face.

"Alright, message heard." She walks away with her hands surrendered.

For the next five minutes that the spaghetti spends boiling, you both exist civilly in the same area whilst doing different things. You're preparing for dinner as Leah is of course dilly-dallying with the football again. Each punt against the ball as she does kick-ups or ridiculous little tricks slowly grinds your gears, until she eventually begins occupying floor space in the kitchen that she obviously knows you'll use.

"Move, please, I need to drain this pasta." You say initially, a bit of bite to it but not as much as you easily could reach. However, she doesn't move, and instead gets in the way even more. "I have a pot full of boiling water here, move!"

You shoved past her where she was messing around with the ball near the sink, a shit-eating grin on her face which its only purpose is to infuriate you more. She does move out the way though, lifting the ball up into her arms with the foot, but she only steps so far away.

"What are we having?" She asked in an all too innocent voice, watching as you drained the pasta - the aggression you did this simple task with probably should have been a warning sign to her. But that had never stopped her before.

"Spaghetti, what does it look like?" You shake your head at her. "And you will eat it this time."

You were yet another unfortunate victim to Leah's limited and fussy palate.

"Not my fault you used a rank sauce last time. You better have gotten a new one." She grumbled like a picky toddler, starting her kick-ups again right in front of the next cupboard you need to get into.

"Put that fucking ball away before I stab a knife into it." You snap, pushing her out of the way with one hand and getting out the aforementioned new sauce. "See? Is this better for you, princess?"

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that, sweetheart." Leah smirks, referencing the sassy tone and mocking pet name you used for her as you shoved the jar into her face to prove a point.

"I'd like to see you try." You scoff, heading back over to the stove.

She falls suspiciously silent as you put the spaghetti and sauce into the pan. You try to pay no notice, watching out of your peripheral vision as she slowly makes her way back over with her hands behind her back.

"What are y-"

You're disrupted by her kicking the ball in between your legs, it clunking scarily loud against the glass door of the oven.

"Another one! Call me Ronal-fucking-dhino!" Leah laughs giddily, scampering away like a naughty child.

You took a deep breath, composing yourself so that you didn't chase after her with one of the multiple weapons within reach around you.

However, sticking true to your threat, you grabbed a knife from the draining board beside the sink and sunk it into the ball that had been the bane of your existence for the past however long it's been in Leah's possession. It wasn't a sentimental object, you wouldn't do that to her, thankfully it was just a ball she had picked up from the supermarket one day she had been determined to tag along as you did the grocery shop. The poor thing let out its final breath as the air puffed out of it, a sign you had won the battle. With a slightly manic grin, you went on making the rest of the meal as if nothing had happened.

Luckily you were able to cook the dinner without any further childish interruptions, though you did have half a mind to pour the whole shaker of salt onto her portion. But no, you can rise above this kind of behaviour. A household prank war against this woman-child could lead to an unfortunate break-up. Though you did just get an adrenaline rush from murdering a harmless football, so maybe it was already on.

"Leah, come here and sort your cheese out." You shout into the apartment, not a clue where she had gone off too.

Although, you forgot the scene she would walk into, only realising when a sharp gasp sounds through the room.

"What... the hell did you do?" Leah whispers in a dramatically heartbroken voice, kneeling to the ground and delicately picking up the punctured ball. You turned and rolled your eyes at the sight that met you, forever astonished at the theatrics this girl pulls off.

"Better a ball than your head." You mutter under your breath. "Sort your dinner out, I'm not being blamed for ruining it this time."

You took your bowl and walked past where she was still on the ground, nudging her shoulder with your knee as you went by to push her over. Okay, maybe you did have tendencies similar to hers.

Leah joins you on the couch a few moments later, an embarrassingly scarce amount of parmesan in her bowl as she slumps down next to you with a groan.

"I'm not watching this right now, I don't want to participate in a fucking reading lesson whilst I'm eating!" Leah complains at the choice of TV show you'd picked for this evening: Narcos.

"Tough, I cooked so I choose." You shrugged and pressed play, the characters immediately talking in thick and fast Spanish that, despite the English subtitles, is too much for your poor girlfriend to deal with right now.

"That's not fair, you always cook." She grumbles, stabbing her fork aggressively into her food. You pause the show at that statement, turning to look at her with a face that conveyed pure and unfiltered rage.

"Did you seriously just complain that I always cook?" You question in a frighteningly passive tone. Leah glances at you from the corner of her eye, not daring to turn away from her bowl. "Really, Leah?

She grimaces at the use of her name when you probe her for an answer. All day, she had been toeing a fine line, pressing all the wrong buttons, and pushing her luck with you. This time though, she'd really done it.

"Watch whatever you want, I'm not eating with you." You stand up from your seat on the sofa and storm away to the bedroom, leaving a glum and regretful Leah in the lounge who does in fact change the show on TV.

Was it an overreaction? In an hour, you'll probably think so. But right now you couldn't bear to look at the woman downstairs. You both eat, sad and alone, in your separate rooms to think over your actions.

In fact, no, you didn't overreact. You were entirely in your right to get angry over a throw-away statement that Leah had made just to win one back against you. Her immature attitude and competitive nature took over and she made an unnecessary comment about an action you not only enjoyed doing anyway, but enjoyed doing for her. So, whilst Leah thought back on how she should have behaved better, verbalised herself better, you were satisfied with your actions.

When there was a quiet knock at the bedroom door twenty minutes later as you lay in bed on your phone, bowl on the floor and meal happily consumed, you gave no answer. Leah came in anyway, a sheepish and guilty look on her face.

"May I come in?" She asks shyly, only her head in view.

"As long as you promise to not be a complete arsehole to me anymore." You grumble, not looking at her.

"I promise, love. I am sorry. I have things to make up for my utterly stupid behaviour." She says, and that does pique your interest.

You grunt in affirmation, and the door opens to reveal her holding a few items: your favourite candle from the lounge, a hot chocolate, your favourite cookies, and the oil you often used to massage Leah whenever her muscles were giving her some discomfort.

"Maybe I could give you a massage, babe? I am sorry. I appreciate all you do for me, I was just being an idiot before who didn't know when to stop. I love that you cook for me, and eating dinner with you at the end of a long day is one of my favourite things, genuinely. I'm really sorry for making that stupid comment, I am." Leah tells you softly, an air of desperation to her voice. Through all the times she loves to piss you off, nothing made her feel worse than when you truly got angry at her.

"You must really be sorry if you're letting me eat in bed." You comment quietly, referring to the pack of cookies in her arms. She smiles and nods, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed beside you.

"I am sorry. Get crumbs everywhere if you want, get your revenge." She replies and a weight lifts off her chest when you giggle slightly. "I love you, truly, madly, deeply. I'm so grateful for you and everything you do."

You reluctantly smile up at her from where you lay, then roll your eyes and hold your arms out for her.

"Come here, you massive idiot." You mutter, watching amused as she rushes to put her things on the bedside table before diving on top of you. "You're a wanker, number six."

Leah laughs into the pillow at the reference, nodding her head in agreement. She turns her face into your neck and places a few light, apologetic kisses there.

"I am." She murmurs, sighing a little and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. "I wouldn't appreciate it if you started shouting that at my football games though."

"I don't appreciate you reciting a ninety's song in your apology though. Get some original material next time." You hit back, a smug grin on your face as she laughs again.

"I'll sing it for you if you want." Leah offers, voice slightly muffled by your neck as your body shakes with laughter.

"I think that would reverse all your efforts." You say, her humming in agreement. "Now, did you say something about a massage?"

The next morning, Leah believes all is forgiven from the previous night. But just to be sure, she hops out of bed since she's the first to wake up and decides to bring you a coffee in bed before you both were due to go out for breakfast with friends. It's a delight you welcome immediately, sighing contently when the hot mug is placed into your hands as you sit up against the headboard. Leah joins you in bed again, copying your position, and wraps an arm around you as well as kissing your forehead. She mumbles a few more words of apology into your ear as you drink, ensuring that you know how grateful she is for everything you do. You also welcome that with open arms, happy to hear her feelings towards you when she's not being an irritating little pest.

She watches you the whole time you get dressed for the day, and there's a soft smile on her face as she stood in the bathroom doorway whilst you put your earrings in, the finishing touch of your outfit. You mirror the smile she wears when she steps forward and wraps her arms around your waist, murmuring endless compliments into your ear that send shivers down your spine. It's a sickeningly sweet moment, it would rot any witnesses' teeth had they been there to see it, but it's perfect and it's the couple that you recognise rather than the bickering one from the previous night.

You exit the bathroom together, your fingers intertwined as Leah leads you down the stairs. Though, just as you're about to leave, you spot a smudge mark on your cheek from your mascara in the mirror by the door, so you stop to fix it. Leah, with the patience of a toddler, somehow finds yet another ball and it's one you can't stab this time since it's a Euros 2022 ball. Even though she has just done her hair, begging you to straighten it for her, she starts doing headers. And that's where the morning takes a turn for the worst.

When you'd finished fixing your makeup, you head to the downstairs bathroom to quickly wash your hands. Then you hear a panicked shout, followed by a loud bang, and lastly the sound of glass smashing. Instinctively, you rush out the room to see if Leah's okay, thinking the worst, but it seems that the only damage she has is to her ego. And, subsequently, to her relationship.

The sight that greets you fills you with more fury than you'd ever felt in your life. Your mirror, the antique one you had been adamant at buying when decorating the house, lay broken on the ground. The frame was cracked, it was surrounded by glass, and the ball laying next to it was very clearly the offending weapon. The culprit cowered in the corner of the hallway, looking at you and waiting for a reaction.

And boy did it come.

The walls of the house shook with the scale of your voice as Leah flinched like she was physically impacted by each punch that your words delivered. Nothing offensive or harmful was said of course, but your language was certainly colourful and impactful. Each word was spat with a lethal amount of venom, and Leah wasn't sure she would ever see the light of day again; living a life banished to her house, individually glueing each piece of the mirror back together as you endlessly lecture her. Eventually though, you did have to take a breath. Leah took one at the same time, though she was a shell of herself as you glared at her.

Composing yourself, you stepped over the mess and opened the front door before turning to Leah with an unnerving smile. She smiled anxiously back at you, and it took everything in you not to laugh at the nervous, apologetic look on her face. At least she knew she had messed up.

The next time you speak, it's like nothing had happened, and that fills Leah with more fear than she'd ever felt in her life. She knows she's in for it when you get back later.

"Come on, my love, we have a breakfast date to attend."

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