#at least its still driveable :^)

[skxrbrand]

GUESS WHOSE CAR GOT HIT AT WORK TODAY

[trans-corvo]

I was driving to work 5AM saturday morning and a buck jumped out like 2 metres in front of my car while i was going 80 km/h on the highway, so obviously I hit it. I'm fine, but neither the buck nor my car is. I lost my front passenger lights and part of the fender. It's still driveable, but I have to use hand signals when turning right and also the broken part of the fender might be enough for a cop to pull me over. The soonest appointment I could get to have it assessed is nov 23, and I'm worried it might be a write-off since it's literally one of the oldest electric cars out there and its battery is shit, I wont get much money back either, because I only paid 5000$ for it. Even if it isn't a write-off, that just means I'll have to replace the battery soon, which is a couple thousand dollars AT LEAST. But anyway, I'm back on the bus for the time being and I cant take it. fucking 4 hours a day on public transit, 4-6 transfers total depending on the time. just shoot me.

[coloursofaparadox]

listen. okay. i know my car is held together with sheer force of will and gusto. but it is perfectly functional!!! yes, i have part of the panel on the trunk permanently removed so i can reach inside and manually pull the mechanism to latch it. and yeah, the drivers door handle only works because of some creative industrial strength zip ties. out of 4 doors i think two have the correct corresponding interior handles. half of them work. 2 out of 4 windows do not roll down, and 1 is on its last legs but still functioning due to a barbeque brush and silicone lube (and i have to push it down with my hands). and okay MAYBE it becomes undrivable when we go long stretches without rain because the front wiper fluid just sadly trickles down the hood and i have to use the whims of the weather to clean my windshield of grime. at least both wipers stay attached while driving and definitely 100% for sure always have (it was fine no one got hurt).

listen. she is doing her best. when i bought her the transmission fluid was brown. you know what colour its supposed to be? pale pink. sometimes oil just. leaves. doesn't leak! doesnt seem to be getting through a seal into the enginel! just. it goes. the amp and two 12 inch subwoofers in the back scream in audible pain when i rev the engine. the parking brake light comes on at random when it gets cold outside. im not sure what its trying to tell me and i dont care to find out. the clock only works when u hit it. im also like 80% sure that putting the gearshift in park doesn't actually work and the emergency brake is the only thing keeping it from rolling downhill, but also one time i drove with the parking brake on and didn't even notice the difference, so ?

anyways. uh. i forgot my point. she is driveable and functional and i love her.

[underatedwords]

notes from fp3

conditions very all over the place esp towards the end of the session

top 10 more representative of the "pecking order" than yesterday bc they went out and pushed straight away when the track was still dry

all given an extra set of inters bc the session is wet

lewis saying the "driveability still not great" more abt PU deployment than set up

red flag 9mins in, logan off onto the gravel and just bumps the wall at T14

lando out doing a reconnaissance lap on the inters, going purposefully wide to test the grip

as more drivers come out have to take an alternate line to avoid the rubber on track as its more slippy than the tarmac

lando first one out on slicks after the inters and immediately 5s up on his fastest lap on inters

lance and pierre both off onto the gravel after slipping on the white line

lando w some concern abt the brakes but the garage can't see anything atm

charles complaining of a "strange noise" when he releases the clutch but garage can't see anything

nyck set the fastest lap on slicks in the wet w a 15.765, then charles w a 16.486

guenther summoned to the stewards for breaking the media code of conduct last week w his comments abt the stewards

most laps - lando&carlos w 20

least laps - logan w 5 (crashed), lewis w 9

[jensons-buttons]

Daniel tries and tries and tries and he pushes his car beyond limits every time he steps into it, and he suffers power loses and engine problems and poor strategies, the media smokes him, waiting like vultures for him to screw up, and he still manages to put up a smile and lights up the whole world with it and he supports the team and his teammate and he says they'll improve and until then he'll just put his head down and try again and yet, after all that, McLaren still treats him like shit.

[vampiremourning]

boy oh boy life sure comes at you fast sometimes doesn’t it?

hello! im chloe, a nonbinary lesbian just trying her best. like just about everyone else, the last year has been,,, rough, to say the least. i did a pretty decent job at keeping afloat i think, but clearly am in a pretty rough spot as a result.

my previous donation post is still going around (which, thank you all so so much oh my god) but as of today sunday june 13, my step father decided to add this onto my current problems. 

so basically as stated here in my original post, i’m finding myself in a pandemic-driven financially abusive situation as of right now. i’m basically the only one in the house with any useable credit cards (thanks to my step father leeching off of my mother for the last decade), and while i don’t mind helping out with a bill or two every now and then, i’m finding myself being cornered into covering costs for his son. there’s a difference between me helping out every now and then with groceries, and me being expected to take on half of the bills of a household of 5 people + pay for the activities of my half brother. i’m not in a position to dispute this, as that would almost certainly result in him selling the house (something he’s threatened before) and leaving us all homeless. 

i do not have a support system in my life beyond my mother, who is also a victim of this man and cannot provide for me if i need financial assistance now or any time in the near future. 

the total above is what’s currently on my credit card. while i do have a job right now (which again, extremely grateful for!) it will not be enough for me to pay this off any time soon, which ultimately affects my ability to get a vehicle for myself. 

this was an issue before, and i understand that sounds like a luxury, but in order to get to work/get home from, my only option is uber or begging my mother for a ride. we only have the one car right now for the whole household, and she uses it for my half brother’s extracurriculars (which i am footing the bill for). once or twice a week in an uber would be manageable, but one way from work to my home is 15.00, which leads to 30.00 in transit charges every day. as you can imagine, this very much eats away at my paycheque, which limits me in terms of paying off the debt in my name and making any strides towards a car, insurance, and saving up for an apartment (because leaving is really the only way to stop them from using me/my card). now that we also apparently have to worry about him damaging the only vehicle we have for the household (which is on its last legs of life just due to age and wear as it is), it’s more important than ever that i secure something for myself. 

the damage above will likely also have to be taken care of by me, as keeping my mother’s car in at least semi-driveable condition is vital right now. based on previous repair costs, we estimate this repair to be around $500.00 and will be contacting a mechanic to give us a firm quote as soon as we can. 

i’d drop my paypal but it has my full name on it, so in place of that, my ko-fi donation link is here. it’s attached to my art blog, and i’m also taking commissions if anyone is interested in getting some art!

https://ko-fi.com/luxecoffin

commissions || redbubble store 

reblogs are so appreciated if you can’t donate anything! and of course, only donate if you have the comfortable financial means to.

thank you so much for taking the time to read & reblog <3

[andsewingishalfthebattle]

The Flaming Bentley

Now that it has made its debut at Gen Con, I can post pictures of the flaming Good Omens Bentley I built for the costume contest!

It’s around nine feet long, modular (it has to break down for transport), driveable (in straight lines, at least -- steering is a bit of challenge!), and even has a wireless speaker inside to blare Queen tunes at top volume.

The majority of the materials were recycled or scavenged; the frame was built using a wheelchair, several walkers, old shelves, scrap lumber, various kinds of pipe, hula hoops, even some vinyl siding left over from work done on my house. The SFX are classic fake-torch technique, with nine LED-backed PC cooling fans (connected to four 6V batteries, mounted beneath the hood) blowing on fabric “flames.” The side panel is illuminated with one hundred twinkle LEDs mounted on holographic vinyl. Construction took around two weeks (though for the second half of that I was pretty much working on the car full-time).

I have a lot of photos and videos that I still need to sort through, including an extended video of the car driving around Gen Con and through Indianapolis on the way back to the parking garage after the contest (because where else are you going to park a nine-foot-long car prop?). I’ll try to post some clips from that later.

[notebookpapers]

The drugs he gave you don’t actually work on you. No drugs ever do, unless you decide to mimic the human digestive system well enough to get a little drunk, usually only at karaoke nights with your friends. The problem is, though, when your body realizes it’s supposed to be a paralytic that’s been injected into your neck, you panic. Because even though your instincts are telling you to fight back, your first instinct is to also use your powers, but then you have to remember to tell yourself not to use them, and then you’re being grabbed by the neck, and you think maybe you should use them, but what if there’s cameras?

And that’s how you end up tied up in the back of a pretty average looking car, half-pretending to be asleep because you don’t know how to reasonably get out of this situation.

You’ve seen your fair share of true crime documentaries, so you always thought the people who did these kinds of tings would be at least sort-of well prepared. This car, though, doesn’t have anything meant to protect the guy in it. No tarp in the back seat, no smell of cleaning supplies, no rubber gloves. Just a guy, and a passed out 23-year-old in his back seat. The empty syringe he used to knock you out with sits in a Walmart bag, with other used napkins and such, at the foot of his passenger seat. You’re not even bound or cuffed, and the bruises haven’t set in yet, so to anyone watching, you probably look like a drunk college kid getting drove home by their parents. He doesn’t seem as cold as you’d think a murderer would be, although as far as you know, that’s not what he has planned for you, yet. Still, he’s listening to the radio as he takes the exit ramp off the freeway, and he drives and drives as you mindlessly look out the window, watching the town turn to trees, and until the water is a river, no longer a stream.

A human instinct tells you to run, but you don’t, because that instinct means nothing to you. You could slip away now - really, you could have slipped away anytime since the start of your little escapade. You may not be human, but you understand why humans condemn these sorts of crimes. You do not fear this man, but your friends do, even though he is a feeble thing whose blade would not hurt you any more than it would hurt the air. A human, though, would be terrified. So, you bite down your boredom, and you wait. You’ve come this far, already. Might as well get as many details as you can so the police won’t have any problems identifying the kidnapper’s face.

You’re about dozing off when the man pulls up near the riverside, nearly jostling yourself awake before you remember you’re supposed to be out ice cold. The man shuts the car off and hurls you over his shoulder, settling you down on the riverbank before trekking back to his car, through the mud.

You take note of the riverbank and open your eyes again, once he’s gone. You memorize this place. Y pull on your power’s strengths for a more exact location. You remember the smell of the river, you remember the footsteps of every animal before you who came and drank from the water’s edge, in this spot.

It’s really the perfect crime scene for a murder, you think. Not in the praise of the human’s intelligence, but more so his good luck. That he had found nature’s perfect body disposal spot, and that no one else in the adjoining town had been adventurous enough to find him.

Close enough to town to be driveable, far enough for cadaver dogs to likely not pick up the scent. The river was deep, here, deep enough to float down a body to the faster and wilder rapids, downstream, where bodies could get trapped under rocks or crevasses and be picked apart by fish until just the remnants of them floated downstream. The bank is shallow here, and floods easily. Any trace of blood and its metallic smell would be washed down with the overflowing stream, and the fungi and little creatures of the soil would do the rest. How lucky for him, you think, that there seems to be an impending flood warning, just for the occasion.

Your inhale a little deeper, trying to take in the smell of every kind of organism that trudges through the earth, beneath you. It was a game you and your siblings used to play, trying to listen for bugs or worms and then trying to dig up the deep ones. You think back to the last large flood warning, a few months back, when you and your brother had played the game again, just for old time’s sake. You’d dig for worms in the backyard while, through an open window, you could hear the news play. A woman who’d been last seen stopping at a gas station in your town had gone missing. But, of course, you were a rural town. There had been no leads, and while the missing person’s case was still open, it was widely considered that she had just gotten lost somewhere along the way.

Your kidnapper comes back with an axe and an old-looking electric saw, and when you smell the blood on the respective metals, you feel a slap to your ego for not noticing something so obvious.

The girl from the gas station, gone missing just before a flash flood. The young family who supposedly “moved for jobs,” who had ceased content with anyone since another flood warning, a year or so before. And the two lone hikers who’d gone missing before that - suspected hiking too close to the river prior to the flood, and drowned.

You laugh out loud, despite yourself, not noticing that the man freezes until he takes a step back. You open your eyes, though it takes a minute to process, since, well, fuck it. There’s no pretending anymore, anyways.

You laugh again, at the sight that befalls you. The man stands there, gaping, fear in his lungs - you can smell it from here. Human pride, though, or perhaps optimism, keeps him planted in his spot.

“A strange reaction to the drugs,” he must be thinking. Well, you smirk, a strange reaction indeed.

“Nice to meet you,” you say, politely. Hell, you may be a demon, but you were raised on Earth. You at least have manners.

“What the-“

“Nice place you have,” you smile as you sit up, resting one hand on your knee as you get comfortable.

You can hear his heartbeat get just the slightest bit faster. Your eyes twinkle. Oh, this will be fun.

“So, what’s your deal,” you ask, shaking the twigs out of your hair. “I mean, every bad guy has a story, right?” You cock your head. “Or are you just one of those guys who likes hurting girls to feel like his dick is big?”

His nostrils flare. Good, you’ve hit a nerve. He charges.

He drops the saw, instead swinging his axe off the ground. You tut, watching the machine fall to the ground. You always want more weapons against a demon. Sure, they might not do much, but it’s still a laughably pathetic mistake.

You stand up, and debate moving, but decide to stay in place, just for entertainment purposes.

He swings for your throat. He misses, cuts into your shoulder instead. The blow could have bled out and killed you, at worst, put you in agony, at the very least.

Instead, you catch his eyes as he does so, and grant him your most wicked smile. You let your glamour down for the first time in decades as your haunting eyes and rippling feathers bleed out of you. It feels luxurious, no more tucking your wings back or shrinking your fangs down or hiding the echoed static in your laughing shriek.

He gasps, and drops his weapon, now, stumbling backwards as the fight or flight responses in his system are delayed.

“We are beautiful to them,” your mother had told you once, as you were sat in the living room, and she did you and your brother’s hair. “We fallen descended from Lucifer, you know. And he is beautiful.” She’d kissed your little forehead. “You know, he used to be god’s favorite.”

“Why do we hide, then, mamma,” your brother had asked. You mother had shaken her head, and chuckled.

“Because human beauty is fickle, my dear. Their fragile minds only accept beauty if it is in a way that they understand.”

Damien had frowned. “You mean like how they think blobfish are ugly?”

You gasped. “How could they?! They’re so flabby! They’re cute!!”

Your mom laughed, and ruffled Damien’s hair. “Like that, sweetie, sort of.”

She’d taken a shimmery blue bow and tied it in your hair, and then you were pushed off her lap so your brother could have his turn to get his hair braided.

“We are beautiful in a way humans don’t understand,�� she’d said, as she brushed small knots out. “They’ve never seen things like us before, and it frightens them. Even if it amazes them, at the same time.”

“Is that bad,” you’d asked.

“Not necessarily,” she said. “But, it doesn’t always feel nice to be different. Of course, I can’t stop you when you’re older,” she smiled, “but I think, for now, it’s best to only have yourselves out at home, where it’s safe.”

“Okay mamma,” you’d both echoed.

Sorry mom, you think, distantly. But you’re an adult in human years now. You’ve grown up with them. You think you’re old enough.

“Boo,” you smirk, as his systems kick into gear. “Flight” seems to win over, as he screams, and then turns on his heel.

He gets about three good strides in before he stumbles over something he can’t see. He makes these pitiful little noises, all confidence gone out the window as he grunts, clawing and thrashing, trying to get off the ground, but being slowly pulled back by the force of something curled around his feet.

You bring him in a few feet closer before letting him go, and he gets just a few strides further than the first time before he stumbles, pathetic pleas bouncing off his lips as you slowly draw him backwards, let him go, draw him backwards, again and again.

“Don’t play with your food,” your dad had said.

Well, sorry mom and dad, you think, as you watch him keep trying to run. But you think this particular piece of meat deserves it.

-

A day later, a note to police leads them, mysteriously, to this spot. The man is found torn apart, eviscerated, partly by his own tools, in part by some indiscernible animal, blood and internal organs strung all over the riverbank, the man’s license and ID placed proudly in the center, for all to see. The remains of the other girls and the one young father are incinerated and sent to the doorstep of families in different cities, but no footage of them being dropped off is ever recovered - they just appear on the doorstep, as if out of thin air. There’s enough evidence in his house and car to posthumously convict him of the crimes, but there’s no evidence at the scene for who left the skin of his arms strung up along coiling vines like festival ribbon.

Your mother laughs when the news comes on, but she doesn’t care.

“I heard someone killed a killer,” she says, over coffee.

“Hm,” you mumble, cheeks full of cereal. “I wonder.”

The case ends up going unsolved. The only reason anyone ever goes missing from your town again is because of a bear. And if there are rumors of dark magic? Well, that’s just absurd. It’s not dark magic, you reassure them. It’s angelic. Just, perhaps, in a different hue.

You were born into a family of demons who escaped hell to live a normal life under humans. Your parents told you never to use your demonic powers. That is until you’re kidnapped by a serial killer of your hometown who you decide to teach a lesson.

[leqclerc]

It's still quite early but so far I'm happy with ferrari. They really did learn (and after the mockery last year) they put their head down and made huge progress. Binotto needs to shut up about seb and stop making passive aggressive statements, but I'm starting to feel kind optimistic about 2022?

On the other hand, Aston Martin is a mess. I did though they were overhyped but so far they haven't proven anything. I leave Bahrain behind due to mazepin but seb started in p12 I believe? I don't know if the car is shitty or the strategy is a mess, but so far it doesn't seem like a smart move from seb unfortunately...

Same! I know it’s early days but damn it’s already so satisfying to see them up there fighting for positions and defending and actually being in serious contention and not just helplessly slipping down the order as was the case last season. Especially with the way everyone poked fun at them, as you said, it’s just...vindication. 👀👏🏻 

I think Aston’s problem at the moment is a bit of both. The car is just fast enough to get into Q3 by the skin of its teeth (Lance has had more luck in the qualy department so far tbf, I think Seb had a chance to get into Q3 but his lap time got deleted and they didn’t have time to let him clock a better time or some such.) They’ve already had a string of reliability issues during testing, which ate up a lot of the track time they should’ve been able to use to collect data. Now apparently they had issues minutes before the race start with overheating brakes or something which warranted a last-minute replacement and a pitlane start for Seb. Then ultimately he ended up having to retire the car altogether because of further technical issues (gearbox I’m pretty sure.) Seb himself has said they’re “more in the back of the midfield at the moment.” And instead of focusing on, I don’t know, rectifying these issues so the car is driveable at least, Otmar (I’m assuming acting on Lawrence’s behalf) is just running his mouth, threatening to sue the FIA or whatever. Like. This isn’t a good look for them - especially considering how much they hyped themselves up, how big of a deal they made about the rebranding and car launch, and how they promised to snatch P3 back from McLaren this year. And I think fellow competitors, commentators and fans alike are kind of fed up with this attitude. 

As for whether it was a smart move on Seb’s part...I think at that point it was the only viable move if he wanted to stay on the grid and keep competing without having to take a sabbatical or retire altogether. And to be fair to him, at the time it seemed like a really sweet deal - you’ve got Ferrari in dire straits and the third or so fastest constructor offering you a multi-year deal. Even better, they’re rebranding from some vague unknown Racing Point outfit to Aston Martin, a recognizable brand with history and racing pedigree. And like, Aston was hyped up so much by Sky, F1 Youtube, etc. Every other sports publication was putting out think-pieces about how Aston’s going to be really competitive this year. And now they’re...not. 

I think Ferrari were smart to manage expectations and give very careful answers about the development of the car last year and at the start of this year as well. They made it clear that they made some improvements but didn’t hype themselves up too much by promising podiums. Even now, though Charles has said that they’re eyeing to fight McLaren for third in the Constructors’, he’s said that it’s unlikely they’ll manage a win this season. Which, personally I disagree, I think it’s too early to call. If we get another bonkers race like Monza or Sahkir last year where the top teams aren’t in contention for some reason, and if Ferrari stay on it and maximise their opportunities, I think it’s doable. I mean we had Pierre and Checo as the surprise winners last year, and I don’t think anyone could’ve seen that coming. Again the McLarens are really strong this year but Daniel didn’t have the pace to bring the fight to Ferrari in earnest today so they managed to split them. Point being, they put their head down and did the job instead of trying to shift the blame away from themselves, and that’s what Aston need to do right now. 

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Slow Mover

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: E/NSFW Word count: 12k

Summary:

When Ned backed out on rooming with Peter during their first year of college, MJ felt like it was no big deal to take his place. Now that she's about to lose it, she's confronting the fact that she may have grown attached... and not to the apartment.

Monday, February 1st

I’m gonna pack my things and leave you behind/This feeing’s old and I know/That I’ve made up my mind ― “I Love You So” (The Walters)

MJ’s been thinking about moving out for awhile. As far as roommates go, Peter’s a slob, not that she has a frame of reference since they’re only in their first year of college and she declined student residence in favour of splitting a lease with her Academic Decathlon underling.

If the term ‘underling’ seems harsh, it’s not. Peter’s earned her disdain in more ways than there are Disney Dalmatians. He mashes down the nibs of her Faber-Castell markers making hasty grocery lists on the post-its that inevitably breeze off their fridge door. He falls through the window almost every time he gets in late from Spidey-patrol and the thud wakes her up. He has socks everywhere. She has never seen so many. Fucking. Socks.

This was supposed to be him and Ned, she knows―his actual best friend, not the friend reluctantly given the designation because... why, again? How she won Peter’s friendship isn’t immediately clear. Except Ned decided to commute from home in a last-minute fit of separation anxiety. This was after Peter signed a lease but before the online application for student residence opened. MJ shrugged and said she’d help them out because the little walk-up is close to campus and about on par with what the college charges for housing. For Peter, the draw is the privacy to sneak in and out in his superhero getup. For MJ, it’s the quiet of not sleeping within the same four walls as a noisy roommate, on a floor packed with students, in a building of eighteen-year-olds who’ve just left the nest and are ready to party.

But, like she’s noted, Peter’s the worst.

It’s the first of February, with only two full months plus exams left in the term, and she’s still telling herself she might just cut and run. Very likely, she and Peter have the last good landlord in New York City (or the woman knows how fast she could rent their apartment with so many students, tourists, and other career transients coming and going) because they were told upfront that they could move out at either the end of the month or right in the middle, provided they gave two weeks of notice. When the 1st and the 15th of every month roll around, MJ re-evaluates. Obviously, she hasn’t dropped Peter on his ass yet, but she could. She has options. She’s met a handful of people in her figure drawing and art history classes who are living together on two floors of a ramshackle historic house somewhere that’s basically turned into an artist’s colony and one more person would be nothing to them. MJ could absolutely move in. The socializing demands would be an adjustment, but it’s a short sprint to exam season and she’ll be burrowing into a library study room at that point anyway.

Today’s another first of the month, another chance to announce she’s jumping ship. After considering everything during her walk back to the apartment from her afternoon class, MJ’s decided she’ll probably stay. She never records the factors that inform her decision, preferring to leave no trace. Put it down to her love of mystery and conspiracy, or her five solid months of rooming with a guy who leads a double life. Either way, her vast internal ordering system that leaves no physical sign drives Peter nuts. That’s why she continues to use it.

“Hey, loser, I’m home!” she shouts, twisting her key out of the lock and closing the door behind her.

MJ doesn’t see him right away, but she knows he’s here. His class schedule is as familiar as her own and she knows he’s just as hesitant as she is to engage with people―even people he’s friendly with in class―outside of school. He’ll be here. No need to rush the encounter.

She kicks off her slushy boots, hangs her coat, shoves her hat down the sleeve, and heads to her room. A living space and kitchen that are practically one and the same was evidently the trade-off the boys were willing to make for two bedrooms when they chose this apartment. Whatever. MJ isn’t dying for any meal that requires more than a foot and a half of counter space. And the bedroom all to herself is nice. Peter got the one with the window for his nefarious late-night purposes (saving people and shit), so her room’s away from exterior walls and beside the bathroom. She nearly always gets to the shower first and when she doesn’t... at least being a slow showerer isn’t one of Peter’s faults.

Hefting her textbooks and notebooks from her bag one by one, MJ assesses which she’ll need for homework tonight. Yikes, maybe it should be an exclusively laptop evening; she has a midterm paper coming up and the task of assembling citable articles from scholarly journals beckons in a voice that’s been shredded through a cheese grater. Mmm, cheese. She touches her stomach. Snack first?

Once she’s let her hair down to straggle around her shoulders and swapped her jeans for pj bottoms, MJ plods back into communal territory. She can hear Peter talking in his room through his door, probably on the phone. Part of her wants to knock and tell him to say hi to his aunt for her. The more persuasive part of her wants cheese. She shuffles onward.

He comes sliding into the kitchen like a young Tom Cruise, but with pants―god, the mental comparison is so embarrassingly bad that it’s making her start to blush―as MJ’s arranging a slice of cheddar on a cracker. The fact that Peter so clearly wants to tell her something encourages her to bite down and, mouth full of crunching food, cut him off with, “’Sup?”

“I just got off the phone with Ned,” he informs her. His arms are dramatically apart like this news is in any way important or unusual.

Treating him with heavily sarcastic seriousness, she plants an elbow on the counter and leans towards him like she’s fascinated.

“And Lego’s teaming up with Tesla to build a driveable, electric Millennium Falcon that roars like Chewbacca when you hit the gas,” she predicts.

Peter’s mouth hangs open for a moment and it’s adora―it’s amusing. Like, she wants to laugh at him. Because he looks like a dork. This nerd is so easy to bait.

“Oh my god, I wish. Get out of my fantasies.”

Her elbow almost slips off the counter. She finishes chewing, chastened by how she could’ve just bit her tongue in a grisly household accident.

“Spit it out then,” she suggests, because now Peter’s grinning, waiting for her to ask. “I don’t have another guess.”

Her roommate takes a deep breath to ready himself for something and she narrows her eyes.

“Well, you know how you keep talking about those people you know and their big house and how they maybe have a room or part of a room or something?”

MJ rolls her eyes.

“I mentioned it once, Parker.”

“Oh, well, I remember you saying that. I―well,” he interrupts himself, “Ned and I wondered if that was something you were still considering.”

She has no idea where he’s going with this.

“I have no idea where you’re going with this.”

Peter comes close to vibrating for a minute before he just blurts it out.

“Ned’s moving in! Or, he could be, if you were moving out. Shit,” he mutters, expression falling. “We’re not trying to force you out. It’s just that you said you might want to, and Ned’s been thinking about moving closer to campus for exams and―”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” MJ agrees, nodding quickly. “You guys are idiots for not thinking of that sooner.”

Are they? Was it them being idiots that kept Ned at home? No, that was anxiety. Was it them being idiots that made Peter wholeheartedly welcome MJ as a roommate? No, that was... Ok, she doesn’t have an answer for that one, but she’s already said her thing about idiots, so she scoops her plate of cheese and crackers off the counter and slips past the confused face of her roommate, muttering about peer-reviewed academic sources.

It’s infuriating and unfair, as MJ numbly abandons her snack on her desk and sinks to the floor of her bedroom with her head in her hands, that the instant she agreed to move out was the same instant she noticed how cute her soon-to-be ex-roommate looks in sock-feet.

 Tuesday, February 2nd

Is there more to this urge that lies in me/’Cause it feels like there’s something I can’t see/But I don’t know what it means ― “Patience” (Hollow Coves)

“You have your key, right?” Peter checks. It’s twenty after seven in the morning and MJ’s hustling him out their apartment door ahead of her. Honestly, she’s trying to kick the back of his shoes to speed him up, but Spider-Roommate’s a little too agile.

“Right here,” she assures him, flashing him the key ring in her hand.

“I just didn’t want you to be―”

“I know, loser.”

She observes as he hefts his backpack onto his shoulder and reaches past her to pull the door shut after them. He locks up and drops his key into his backpack. The solo key. Right in there, with all the other crap Peter keeps crammed inside. Half the time, when he has class and she doesn’t, she hears him arrive home and gets up to let him in. (Has she been listening for him? Not consciously.) Otherwise, he’s fumbling through his bag for ages for that key. Hilarious that he thinks he needs to take care of her like this, when she’s the one who’s been doing that for him.

Caring in a loose sense. Not actual caring. Just, making something more convenient.

They walk down the stairs. MJ’s instinct is always to hang back―like she’s trailing him or trying not to be seen with him―but Peter always slows down to her pace, never making it a thing. By this point in the year, their steps are in sync. The rhythmic thumps are an excuse not to speak. For her, anyway.

It’s early and MJ doesn’t have class until tonight. The explanation she’s been going with since this little morning ritual started is that it gives her more time to get shit done and keeps her established sleep schedule from getting fucked up on days that she has to be on campus before noon. The number of steps they descend together has grown familiar beneath the soles of her sneakers, she knows every little gouge in the wall. With Ned moving in, the number of days left for MJ to do this is suddenly pretty small. She’s nervous about it; she’s never been one for countdowns. Pulling her wool cardigan closed, she crosses her arms over her chest like she’s holding herself in and tucks her hands into her armpits.

“Have a good morning,” Peter says, moving quickly across the cramped lobby to push the outer door open. “See ya.”

She feels him glance back at her, but she doesn’t return the look.

“Yep.”

Alone, MJ turns to their shared mailbox. Another benefit of a key ring: carrying multiple keys at one time without the risk of losing any of them. She opens it up, extracts their measly haul, and flips through as she climbs the stairs back to the apartment. The journey feels a lot farther when she’s heading up―could be the roommate that makes the difference, or only gravity.

Halfway up, she has to pause. It’s just junk mail, addressed to Peter, but she realizes she’s going to miss getting mail with his name on it.

 Wednesday, February 3rd

Maybe you and I could live together if we ever learn to ease the tension ― “You & I” (Colony House)

Ned’s over when MJ gets home. Today’s the longest day of her week―six hours of class back-to-back, followed by an hour and a half of the work study she signed up for because her scholarship doesn’t cover rent outside of student residence. It’s just papering bulletin boards with student council notices, and the mundanity of the work is nice, but she’s reached her quota for expending effort today; she accepts Ned’s high-five as she drags her feet past the couch and heads to her room, lying face-down on her bed until it feels like she’s whole again.

Gradually (very gradually), she rolls onto her side and grabs her warped copy of Moll Flanders off the bedside table. Something about a woman living an extremely precarious life calms her. MJ’s breathing becomes slow and silent, but she stops herself after 15 pages. If she keeps reading, she’ll fall asleep. Instead, she sits up and trades her socks for the cozier version wedged under her mattress. She has a secret fear that Peter will steal them. He’s gotten a covetous look in the past, so she’s taking precautions.

She pulls her laptop to her instead of going to her laptop and tidies up the Works Cited page on her in-progress paper. This task of thoughtless precision is the only school-related thing she feels like tackling for the rest of the day. All of today’s classes are either of the Monday-Wednesday variety or once a week, so MJ isn’t in a rush to get the readings done. She stops to think, pulling up the digital copy of her planner, and stares at the test she has marked down for next week. Hmm. It’s before her paper’s due, meaning studying for it won’t be taking priority, but the test format is a mix of multiple choice and short answer. The class―a sociology course―is graded on a curve and she’s in there with a bunch of students from non-writing programs who are consistently shit at short answer questions. As long as she refreshes her memory about the material being tested, the grading curve will push her competent written answers to the head of the class. It’s all about working the system.

During her time alone in the apartment yesterday, MJ hammered out a thesis and introductory paragraph. Now, she approaches them ruthlessly to see if she can streamline. This is the most critical part; actually writing the paper is just her hands flying across the keyboard, tossing in quotations like air-dropped care packages to her primary source-obsessed professor.

No, no, her brain is rejecting it. She’s done enough today. She doesn’t exactly want to socialize, but Peter and Ned are generally good about letting her quietly stew in their company without expecting much from her. MJ heads to the bathroom to wake herself up by washing her face, then out into the living room.

“What are you nerds doing?”

Half of the reason for her question is just to scare them (not that that’ll actually work on Mr. Super-senses over there) because she can see they’re about to put a movie on. Peter spins around to look at her while Ned rises from the couch. Privately, MJ thinks it’s kind of nice how Ned feels so at home here, where Peter is. Then again, it is about to become his home. Fuck, she needs to talk to the art people about that room.

“We were just gonna watch Alien,” Peter offers.

“Again? Didn’t you tell me you guys did an Alien marathon over winter break?”

He smiles like he’s been caught and it’s cu―funny.

“Yeah, and Ned’s making hot chocolate.”

“Oh yeah?” MJ watches Ned stride purposefully into their tiny kitchen. “Finally making yourself useful?”

He waves a dismissive hand at her and she snorts a laugh. They’ve gotten to this good friendship place of brotherly/sisterly teasing.

“You wanna watch?” Peter asks, calling her attention back to him. She weighs her looming essay against the full day behind her.

“Ok.”

“Hot chocolate, MJ?” Ned immediately asks.

“Well, since you’re determined to be such a good host.”

Ned grins and turns back to the kitchen. MJ leans against the wall, watching Peter put the movie in―not watching, just, like, observing―then glances at Ned. He hasn’t made much progress with their drinks. A mismatched trio of mugs is on the counter and... that’s it.

“You need a hand?” she asks, pushing off the wall.

“Where’s the kettle? Didn’t it used to be in this drawer?”

Ned points into the sliding drawer at their heap of assorted pots and pans.

“It did,” MJ explains. “But that one broke, so we bought a new one. A new one, WHICH WE’RE HOPING NOT TO BREAK BY DROPPING IT INTO THE DRAWER THIS TIME, RIGHT, PETER?”

Her roommate gives a sheepish laugh.

“Our new one’s tucked behind the toaster,” she tells Ned, directing him with a jerk of her chin.

“You guys are buying appliances together,” Ned chuckles. “That’s adorable.”

It’s a somnambulant walk to the couch, where MJ huddles in the corner and zones out for most of the movie.

 Thursday, February 4th

You burn through my mind, again and again, again/And again and again ― “Luna” (Bombay Bicycle Club)

Feeling a burst of resolve before the weekend, possibly in rebellion against Wednesday evening’s confusing feelings, MJ decides to text one of her art classmates re: the spare room. Somehow, what she ends up texting is a question about their prof’s office hours. Which MJ already knows the answer to.

Another thing she does is read the same page of her art history textbook over and over and over and over.

 Friday, February 5th

You’re the only one worth seeing/The only place worth being ― “Cold Cold Man” (Saint Motel)

Peter’s class finishes an hour before MJ’s, yet he always dithers with his packing, so they end up leaving the apartment for their trip back to Queens (courtesy of public transit) at the same time. Traveling with him is one of the less flawed aspects of a friendship with Peter Parker. He won’t glare manspreaders out of their prime seats like MJ would, but he knows the shortest routes and, while train and bus timetables never line up well for her, Peter’s memorized and mastered the schedule. They never wait around.

Also, there’s, like, a bubble of chill around him. No one in their vicinity behaves like a violent asshole―not verbally, not physically. Is it some kind of Spider-Man thing? Is Peter’s skin emitting a sedative to keep the other passengers relaxed? MJ isn’t relaxed. She sways into him multiple times, their overstuffed backpacks knocking together, and he smiles at her, unbothered, as her heart revs ineffectually like a remote-control car someone’s trying to urge up a steep slope.

They walk the last two blocks to the spot where their paths diverge. There’s enough sunshine that the light snow that fell overnight has already been transformed into the slimy grit crunched beneath their boots. Her bag’s beyond heavy at this point, but she knows, at any sign of lag, he’ll offer to carry it for her and she just can’t deal with that shit right now. ‘That shit’ being Peter’s thoughtfulness. MJ just... she needs a day, two days, to remember that she knows how to live without Peter always in the next room. Without joint ownership of a fucking kettle.

“So, text me when you wanna head back on Sunday and we’ll go together?”

MJ frowns. It isn’t clear if the question is the timing for the return trip or if they’ll be making it as a party of two. She shrugs.

“If that works for you.”

“Ok, awesome.”

She nods though it doesn’t feel like a situation where the word ‘awesome’ is called for.

“Later, nerd,” MJ says, aiming for her mom’s as she marches away.

“Hey, MJ?”

She glances back. Peter’s still standing there, plaintive look on his face, hands clutching the straps of his backpack. He never wears gloves. She keeps telling him to wear gloves. Is she supposed to be responsible for Spider-Man’s frostbite? What a pain in the ass this guy is.

Her attention’s enough to get him to continue.

“It’s ok, right? It’s ok about Ned moving in? It’s just, you were kind of quiet during the movie the other night and we didn’t talk much yesterday either...”

With a deep breath, MJ walks back to him.

“I’m just busy,” she says, meeting his eye, then letting her gaze drift off. “Big essay coming up.”

“...And about Ned?”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense, like I said. Did you forget?” It’s maybe the shittiest attempt at teasing someone ever made, but MJ doesn’t really tease Peter.

“But it’s not, like, bothering you or anything, is it? I mean, you don’t regret agreeing?”

Do you? she wants to ask and doesn’t.

“I’m fine, Parker, stop worrying about it,” she says instead. “If you bring this up again after Ned moves in with you, I’m going to have to come back to the apartment and booby-trap it, Home Alone-style.”

He smiles.

“Harsh.”

“Alright,” MJ concedes, “Parent Trap-style, like they did to the cabin. No swinging paint cans, just buckets of molasses.”

“Deal. Consider my silence bought.”

“I didn’t buy your silence, nerd, I ensured it through coercion. Aren’t you supposed to have experience dealing with bad guys? Yikes.”

Peter starts laughing and, incredibly, she does too, the two of them stalled on the corner.

“Ned’ll keep me out of trouble.”

“Yeah, well, he better,” she says easily. Too easily. Jesus, what the hell is she saying? “Because, uh, I need you alive long enough to pull off the Parent Trap thing.”

Shit, she made an offhanded reference to the possibility of his being murdered. Nice. Really great stuff. He won’t want her out on the 15th now―he’ll never want her back in the apartment with him again.

“Of course.”

Peter glances down, but when his face tilts back up, he’s smiling at her. Why the fuck does it feel like they’re saying goodbye forever? MJ nods an awkward farewell to end this strangeness. That’s when Peter moves towards her and she freezes. What’s he doing? They don’t have a secret handshake like he and Ned do. He catches himself when his arms start to lift and looks horrified.

“Sorry,” Peter blurts. “I don’t know what... I was going to hug you.” He laughs self-consciously. “That’d be weird, right?”

“And it’s managing to get weirder without even happening.”

He takes a step back, but MJ surges forward impulsively. She tucks her chin over his shoulder, her hands squeezing his sides because the backpack makes a full embrace impossible―Peter’s backpack is helping her make wiser choices than her own brain.

“Bye,” she says, soft and fast, and turns, jogging to catch the light.

 Saturday, February 6th

The longing never ends/Letting go of ways that we changed, still I pretend ― “Fire Flower” (Summer Salt)

Her gram comes over for dinner. Or, more like MJ and her mom pick her gram up from the apartment she shares with her sister and bring her back for dinner. Ever since Gram’s wife (they never made it official, but that doesn’t change who these women were to each other) died, she’s been living with her sister, but MJ’s great-aunt, 79 years old as she is, has a hot date tonight, so Gram has made time for them in her busy schedule. She’s a real jokester about that in the car, about how she’s missing Westworld for them. When MJ shoots back that she can and has watched Westworld any time she wants (she’s pretty sure Gram’s on her third rewatch of season one), her mom shoots her a look from the driver’s seat. When she adds that Gram only watches because she has a crush on Thandie Newton, they have to roll down the windows to let a little of the laughter out.

Her mom won’t let her wash dishes during her first visit home for over a month, but she has nothing against MJ drying them. As they work, Gram sits at the kitchen table and asks her all about school. Asks if she’s still drawing naked people (yes, Gram, the figure-drawing class runs all year), asks if Financial Aid’s trying to snatch her scholarship back (no, Gram, but I’ll call you if they try anything).

“And are you still living with that boy?”

Normally, MJ would laugh this question off, same as the others. Normally. Her hands still, holding a mug wrapped in a dampening tea towel.

“What’d you say, honey?”

Gram’s a little deaf and not used to MJ not firing an answer back immediately. She assumed she didn’t hear the response, not that MJ didn’t give one. MJ thinks for a second. Probably better not to alarm her gram with news of her upcoming change of living situation. She doesn’t want to be worried about and, technically, she is still living with ‘that boy’ for another eight days.

“Yes, Gram. Peter.”

“His name is not one of the things I need to know about him. I just need to know that he’s not getting in the way of your ascent to greatness.”

MJ smiles and finishes drying the mug.

“Nobody’s going to do that.”

“Good girl. And you feel safe there?”

“Gram, he’s an Avenger.”

Yeah, maybe that’s top-secret information. Whatever. Who’s her gram going to tell?

“I don’t mean do you think he’d pull you out if the building fell down―”

“Nice image, Mom,” MJ’s mother contributes with a roll of her eyes.

“―I mean how are you handling sharing a space with a boy who’s in love with you?”

MJ’s drying a fistful of silverware and it spills out of her grip, scattering across the counter. A lone spoon plops back into the sink’s soapy water. She clears her throat and reaches for the cutlery. Reaches even farther for her composure.

“He’s not, and what would that have to do with safety?”

“Let me tell you, he most certainly is.” Apparently, Gram’s rejecting the question. She never wastes her own time on words she can’t be bothered to speak.

“A boy and a girl can room together without there being... feelings,” MJ points out. It’s irritation that’s making her blush. Irritation at herself for being wrong-footed by her gram over Peter freaking Parker.

“Yes, they can, but I’m not talking about ‘a boy and a girl,’ I’m talking about Peter and yourself.”

“I think getting a Netflix account has made you suspicious,” MJ gently accuses. “What’ve you been watching on there?”

“None of your business.”

Gram changes the subject, letting her off the hook, but the next time MJ turns to look at her, Gram gives her a wink.

Well, she can think what she likes, even theorize aloud. Doesn’t make her right. If it’s between Peter and MJ, her own feelings are the ones that make her feel unsafe, unbalanced, unprepared. Maybe he’s considerate with her, maybe he’s kind to the point of being sweet (when she lets him be), but that’s Peter. That’s just Peter.

 Sunday, February 7th

You know I like you a lot, but/It still hits me like a rock ― “Hits Me Like a Rock” (CSS)

MJ’s breaking her promise to stay for lunch, bailing right after breakfast. She tells her mom she’d rather get back into school mode. Plus, she’ll be home for the week-long study break before midterms; only a week away. What she won’t think about is the possibility that she’ll be using her studying time for learning-to-cope-without-Peter-in-the-next-room time instead.

She doesn’t text him, by the way. Why cut his weekend short? True, escorting her home isn’t his responsibility, but he’d find some way to feel obligated. Definitely a Spider-Man thing. If only his overdeveloped sense of responsibility carried over into the putting his socks away department. Which is what she comes home to: Peter’s socks just inside the door of their apartment. On the floor, peeking out of every pair of his shoes like a grubby Beatrix Potter scene. MJ has no memory of things looking so dire when she left (they left―together). Must’ve been distracted by trying to remember if she had her transit pass, or whether her mom had asked her to bring anything home for dinner.

The sidewalks have become slushy again and, based on the wet spot near the toe of her left sock, she needs to re-waterproof her boots. For now, she troops straight to her bedroom, holding her dripping boots in one hand and a paper towel beneath them with her other. MJ settles them over the heat vent in her room. As she switches to dry socks, she eyes the boots like they should’ve known better.

It’s a cozy, forgetful few hours of solitude. Her paper’s due Thursday and the body of it isn’t exactly taking shape; she’s straining against the traditional essay format and finding it messy going, even though it feels like she’s on the right track. High school has underprepared her for this and overprepared her for things like... robotics. It’s amazing how few people give a fuck about robotics when she’s sitting in a lecture on the Dutch masters.

Peter never remembers to shut his bedroom door and, without trying to look, MJ gets a glimpse from the hall, right through his room and out the window, of snow lazily starting to fall when she rises to get a glass of water. The call of hot water is strong, but she showered his morning before breakfast. The best she can do is snuggle into bed and languidly run a highlighter over some readings for Tuesday.

MJ finds out she fell asleep when she wakes up to Peter’s disbelieving shriek. The sound isn’t loud, but it has her up and fighting her way out of her blankets to stumble into the hallway at the same time her roommate comes sliding into it from the kitchen. He sighs in relief. Spins, clutching his hair. That’s a little much, she thinks. What a fucking dork.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks, ignoring how good it feels to see him again. Again? They were apart a day.

“You never texted me and then, and then―” He gestures behind him. “―your boots weren’t at the door.”

“They were soaked,” MJ explains slowly. “They’re drying in my room.”

Peter’s still getting over... whatever this is that’s happening to him.

“Your boots are always at the door.”

She looks at him carefully, surprised to discover he seems to be coming down from genuine panic.

“Are you ok?”

He does an odd shrugging motion and approaches her.

“I’m ok.”

“Do you need a―”

Peter claps his arms around her and MJ goes immobile.

“Yeah, I did,” he agrees.

She’s trying to figure out when she should tell him she planned to end that sentence with ‘doctor.’ Or something else, even. Something that would calm him. Only... he does seem calm. Feel calm. His hands are spread on her back. His body’s sturdy enough to pull her in and push her back out again with his every breath when he’s hugging her like this, but at least they’re slow breaths. It’s actually kind of ok. Nice. Warm. Confusing.

Before MJ can wrap her arms around his neck, caught up in this intermission from the Parker and Jones: Roommates and Nothing More sitcom, Peter puts his hands firmly on her waist and steps away from her. Then glances down to see where his hands are and drops them.

“S-sorry. I... I was... I overreacted.”

“I’m fine,” she says with what’s supposed to be a shrug but manifests as a twitch. “I’m good. Nobody murdered me on my way home. So...” Idiotically, MJ chucks him on the shoulder in a mortifyingly fatherly manner. “Thanks for keeping the streets safe, Spider-Man.”

“Uh, yeah, you’re welcome. Glad you’re safe.”

Peter’s red-faced, swinging his arms, looking at her and then not looking at her, as she retreats back into her room and closes the door.

Not safe. MJ is not safe.

 Monday, February 8th

I’ll speak a little louder, I’ll even shout/You know that I’m proud and I can’t get the words out ― “Everywhere” (Fleetwood Mac)

She’s wasting the one-hour gap she has between classes. It’s supposed to be for eating lunch and, these days, either studying for tomorrow’s test or adding something brilliant to her paper. It isn’t supposed to be for eating lunch with a couple of nerds who’ve braved the art building to join her. Ned’s awe of the building makes MJ start to smile before he changes topics to the reason he and Peter are actually barging into her schedule―discussion of Ned’s move-in.

Based on their landlord’s 1st and 15th rule, Ned will be an official renter seven days from now. To the boys, it therefore makes sense for Ned to be taking over that day. And to MJ too, of course. It totally makes sense to MJ. The 15th is also the first day of their break week, so there won’t be classes to plan around. Nothing could be more straightforward! MJ can get her stuff packed up this weekend (the 13th-14th) and have her mom pick her up in the car the next day to relocate her to her new living space. Which―fuck―she’s definitely going to text her classmate about. When asked about her living plans directly, she smiles and spoons hot soup into her mouth.

She’s good with it. Ned’s good with it. Peter’s... holding things up. He claims he’s only wondering if they need more time before Ned moves in because he doesn’t want anyone’s boxes to get mixed up. Ned pipes up with information on his thorough labelling technique. MJ just watches Peter. His eyes flick to her more than once, like she’s going to protest, maybe? She wouldn’t. She doesn’t want to screw this up for them. Rooming together is what these two losers wanted from the start. The only thing she has to do is step aside. Fine, she can manage that.

“And we’ll just... see each other around,” Peter says as the three of them are finishing lunch.

But he doesn’t say it to Ned, obviously. Not to Ned, who will be living across the narrow hallway from him in a week. He’s looking right at MJ. Damn his gentle, baby-animal eyes. She hadn’t really thought about this. When would she see Peter? They’re in different programs with classes in different buildings. Their schedules overlap in a way that was convenient for eating dinner together most nights, not in a way that means they’ll bump into each other on campus during their downtime. They’re overachievers who haven’t been able to sustain friendships outside of school. Except for with Ned. Except for with each other.

When Peter does this incomprehensible motion that, in another universe, might look like he was reaching for her hand, MJ nods in agreement. Then, as her eyes start to well without her permission, pretends to have burnt the roof of her mouth on her final spoonful of soup.

It’s been cold for half an hour.

 Tuesday, February 9th

Bless your body, bless your soul/Pray for peace and self-control ― “The World We Live In” (The Killers)

MJ isn’t sweating because she’s retroactively stressed about the test. The test went fine. She prepared; in fact, she overprepared―devoting her entire morning and too much of the afternoon to revision when she should’ve been working on her fucking paper. That’s why she hurried back. That’s why she’s sweaty and ready for a hot shower. It’ll refresh and refocus her and she’ll bang out a few paragraphs of the paper tonight, a few tomorrow (even though it’s the longest day of her week; she’s putting the nightmarish reality out of her mind for now), and have time to proofread the whole thing Thursday morning before she turns it in.

It’s a plan and she loves it. MJ heads to her room, vaguely noticing that Peter’s bedroom door is shut. Huh, maybe he’s hunkered down to do some studying of his own. She dumps her backpack and flings off her sweatshirt and, you know what, her t-shirt too when it wants to cling to the sweatshirt and be removed at the same time. The bathroom’s right next to her room.

MJ darts over in her bra and the sweatpants she wore to take her test and opens the door.

Just as Peter flips the bathroom light on.

She twists away and slams her back into the hallway wall. Jesus Christ. Blinking won’t wipe away the sight of Peter standing there with a towel tucked around his hips. Just the towel. Just that one towel. Fuck, she has to handle this somehow. The situation, that is.

“Sorry,” MJ blurts. “The light was off and, and I didn’t think and―”

“I like to shower in the dark. It kinda lets my senses rest and―”

“I finished my test early so you probably weren’t expecting me home and―”

“―then I needed the light on to shave because I cut myself enough with it on to have zero desire to attempt shaving my face in the dark and―”

Her heart’s pounding so loudly that between that sound and her own words, she’s barely catching any of what Peter’s saying.

“Such an invasion of privacy,” she sighs out in conclusion. He falls silent too. The bathroom door’s still open and a warm radiance stretches the width of the hall; MJ wants to reach her fingertips out and let them glow.

“So,” Peter says, urgency draining into timidity, “your test went well?”

“Yeah.” Looking down at her bare feet on the carpet of the hallway they still share, MJ smiles. “You cut yourself shaving?”

“You can laugh if you want.”

His tone isn’t offended and she knows he wouldn’t mind if she did laugh. Probably wouldn’t be surprised. She isn’t... she isn’t soft with him.

“I was just wondering why I’ve never noticed.”

“Oh, well, the cuts heal up pretty fast. They’re small cuts. I’m not that bad at shaving.” Peter clears his throat and she’s standing there yet, listening. “Plus, we don’t get close.”

A terrible, awkward, one-note laugh rips out of MJ.

“True.”

But her roommate doesn’t join in.

“We’re never close,” he says quietly. She shivers.

MJ’s back in her bedroom with the door shut―leaning against it―in a second. Maybe Peter started to move when she moved. Maybe he stepped out into the hallway with his raggedy towel and his squeaky-clean skin and the flush on his face from the steam because he heard her and thought she might be coming his way instead of hiding like a coward. She can’t know without witnessing it. His footsteps never make a sound.

 Wednesday, February 10th

It’s hard to know which way to go/Come and find me, come and find me ― “Between Days” (Far Caspian)

Clearly, despite her best intentions, MJ is giving off a vibe. Not her regular approach with caution vibe. No, no. She doesn’t know where that withering aura of distance has gone, but she’s lost it and the atmosphere around her has changed as smoothly as the colours in a mood ring. It must have, because Peter hugs her for the second time this week, pulling her into an abrupt embrace before she heads off to campus in the morning.

This is supposed to be the thing about roommates, right? Always invading your space. Only, through the decaying brick wall of her denial, she sees that this isn’t the same thing. He’s not rummaging through her search history or eating her groceries (besides―fuck―they’re kind of their groceries, like the whole kettle situation); he’s initiating moments of physical affection. MJ knows the hugs are affectionate and not perfunctory. If it were otherwise, if they were the kind of automatic hugs that happen in less established friendships upon every meeting and farewell, Peter and MJ would always have done them and it wouldn’t feel so momentous that, suddenly, he’s electing to hold her.

He doesn’t try it when she gets home. That’s a good thing. She’s tired and not so much cooking dinner as microwaving an assortment of shit from the fridge for the sloppy meal that will sustain her through wrapping up the final section of her midterm paper and writing the conclusion. Peter’s sitting on the couch with a textbook in his lap when she gives him a sharp wave and goes to her bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her.

The final section is an uphill (if the hill’s a ski slope slicked over by ice rain―and also there’s an avalanche rumbling down from the submit) battle that takes until nearly 10pm to complete. MJ’s focus is hanging by a thread and she’s rerouting all of her energy to keeping her brain on task. That means no getting up to hunt up a chocolate bar or make a cup of coffee. She can do this. She just has to force herself through to the end. It’s one more paragraph, or maybe a big one and a small final final one of a line or two, to bring home her argument with a little more flair.

MJ pushes ahead, but apparently, the scale of her determination hasn’t left enough space for her memory to function, because she’s mixing up the order of her sub-points, and she’s missing the first part of her thesis entirely. She keeps scrolling―up-down, up-down―to refer to the part she’s already written. It’s coherent, and that should be helping her now, but fucking stress or something is making her concentration worse the harder she tries.

She lives lightly in the apartment. She’s tidy and contained and quiet. The sound of frustration she makes as it feels like this whole assignment is unraveling (has she fucked it up from the beginning? Should she start over completely? Oh god, it’s eleven o’clock! How is it eleven?!) is hellish. MJ’s head slumps to her desk and she starts weeping. Why is this so hard? She’s tired.

It’s possible that she doesn’t hear his knock, but Peter barges into her room. She gets herself to sit up and wipe her fingers under her eyes, her palms over her wet cheeks.

“It’s not―” Coming together, she wants to say. Fair, she wants to say.

“I know,” Peter interrupts, walking over to her chair. “How ‘bout you step away from that for a minute?”

He puts his hand out to her and MJ sniffles as she stares at it. She slaps her palm to his and he holds on, pulling her up. Probably to guide her towards the TV or the kitchen for a hot drink, but MJ steps into him instead, her head on his shoulder, her nose against his neck.

It’s the smell she’s smelt when she hangs her coat on the hook next to his, when she sits on the couch and can tell he’s recently sat in the same spot. Normally, this is a following smell―the scent of coming upon him after he’s gone. Shock that it’s become a now smell makes MJ jerk back, realizing what she’s doing. She’s never practiced friendly hugs. She doesn’t know how to do them. Peter, on the other hand, hugs people all the time―mainly Ned and his aunt―and yet his failings are equal to hers. There’s nothing pal-like in how he puts his hands on her or flexes his arms around her or gently gathers her closer. When he lets her step back, she sort of wishes he hadn’t. But she’s not thinking. Fucking paper.

MJ swivels and sits on the edge of her mattress.

“I can’t end it,” she tells him bluntly.

Peter’s eyebrows raise... hopefully?

“No?”

She shakes her head.

“My introduction’s solid, but I’m getting lost somewhere in the middle trying to recap it.”

“Oh. Oh. Well, you could maybe― Is it ok if I sit down?” She nods. He continues, glancing sideways at her, a foot of space between them. “You could read it out loud? To me?”

“The whole essay?”

“If that’s what you need.”

MJ narrows her eyes at him.

“Parker, don’t you have your own work to do?”

He shrugs.

“I handed in a report today and I have a quiz on Friday. The grading for that class is, like, fifty percent quizzes. Pretty sure my prof just didn’t want to have to make up an exam.”

“Then my real question is, why do you want to do this?”

Why is she pushing him? MJ doesn’t know. Honestly, she’d prefer if it she shut up right about now and quit trying to get rid of her roommate. Her handsome, academically-capable roommate, sitting next to her on her bed. The only other time he’s touched her bed was when he helped her move it in here in September.

“Because it’s too soon to rewatch Alien?” She catches Peter’s eye and grants him a smirk as he laughs at his own joke. “Go,” he encourages, nodding towards her laptop. “Read it.”

With an indulgent sign, MJ lifts her computer from her desk to her lap. She mumbles a little at first; even if it’s a stupid paper rather than creative writing, they’re her words and she’s speaking them aloud for him to hear. But three paragraphs in, she glances over and Peter’s leaning back on his hands with his eyes closed. MJ almost snaps at him for not listening―incredible how fast the stress will flare up and demand an outlet―until she realizes he’s concentrating, eyebrows pulling together as she continues. Immediately after that, she stumbles over a full fucking sentence, but she comes out the other side with a steadier, louder voice.

When she reaches the end of what she has written, Peter nods and opens his eyes.

“I think―” he starts, but MJ shushes him.

Frantically, her hands trip and clack across her keyboard. The conclusion pours out, word after word after word. One big paragraph and a small final final one for flair. The second she’s done typing, MJ saves the document, puts her laptop back on her desk, and falls backwards onto her bed.

She takes three deep breaths, then says, “Now I just have to edit it.”

“Don’t I get to hear your conclusion?”

“In a minute.”

Peter drops onto his back beside her and sighs like he’s being denied something he really wanted. She rolls her eyes at him. What a nerd.

Their arms brush. He bounces his foot. Her back cracks when she pushes her shoulder into the mattress. She looks at him and gets the feeling that she just missed him looking at her.

“I’m waiting,” he whispers, and MJ laughs.

“Let it breathe, Parker. I just finished it.”

“Can you pass me that blanket then? I’m getting cold.”

“It’s like a hundred degrees in here,” she argues, but she thumps the blanket folded across her bed onto her roommate’s stomach.

After a minute of watching him get cozy, MJ’s jealous.

“Give me some of that.”

He lets her tug it over. The blanket’s big (Gram made it that way), but she’s pretty sure Peter moves closer with it.

She tucks her legs up and catches site of his watch as she arranges herself. A bit after midnight. Quarter-after. At quarter-after, she’ll get up, evict the dork from her room, and edit. MJ closes her eyes.

 Thursday, February 11th

I had a dream that I kissed your lips and it felt so true/Then I woke up as a nervous wreck and I fell for you ― “Fell for You” (Green Day)

They’ve made up for three years of nearly hug-less friendship in one night; MJ wakes up slowly to find her arms around Peter, and his around her. She keeps her eyes half-open. Evidently, they clung in their sleep, facing each other, and she’s never been so comfortable. But things are going to get uncomfortable any second when Peter stirs. She almost doesn’t want him to. Then, he shifts and she feels his erection against her thigh where it’s slotted between his. MJ tries to cautiously extract her leg―heart pounding in her ears―and Peter lifts his bowed head. His bleary brown eyes meet hers.

“Hi.” His voice is like rug burn.

“I have to edit my paper,” she remembers.

She’s waking up more now, noticing the light in her room. Not the lamp she left on last night, but the morning light that generally brightens the space, coming from Peter’s window across the hall. She puts her hand down to push herself up to a sitting position and it lands on his upper arm. In a blink, his hand’s gripping her arm, preventing a topple. Wow, those reflexes are something. MJ glances shyly down into her roommate’s face.

“Paper,” she says again.

“Right.”

He sits up quickly beside her―hair all sticking up at the back of his head―and she pretends not to notice him notice his erection.

“I’ll, uh, maybe I’ll see you for breakfast?”

MJ nods without looking at him and hears Peter stumble backwards out of her room, kicking away the blanket that’s tangled around his foot. He closes the door behind him and she does not see him at breakfast. The awkward energy from the situation that she doesn’t really take time to process sends her headlong into edits. When she does make it to the kitchen, it’s with her paper tucked inside a presentation folder and her hand snatching a store-bought muffin off the counter. She can hear the shower running and is grateful that she won’t have to face Peter yet.

No, that doesn’t happen until she’s on campus, between classes; she’s handed in her assignment without incident and it’s a huge relief. Not only does Peter know her schedule as well she knows his, apparently, but he also knows exactly where she’ll be on her break. She almost bumps into him coming around the corner of a building.

It feels like she’s seeing a one-night stand in the light of day―except they didn’t sleep together and MJ already saw him in the light of day. It’s just such a contrast between this morning and now. For one thing, they’re upright. For another, they’re both fully awake.

She offers an uncertain, close-lipped smile as they exchange ‘hi’s.

“Um,” MJ starts, “what’re you doing here, Peter?”

“Oh, I just wanted to find out how it went. With your essay.”

“Well, I turned it in and I can’t really tell you more than that until I get it back.”

They stare at each other for a minute before Peter goes, “Right. Right, right, right.”

“You wanna... walk with me?”

“Sure. I have class in twenty minutes, and I have to get over to the other end of campus, but―”

“Go!”

“You sure?”

“Yes! Go, you moron. What are you doing here?”

“I was gonna bring you...” He pats his pockets and she knows it’ll be fruitless before he tells her. If whatever Peter needs isn’t already in his hand, he’s forgotten it somewhere. This is a Rule of Peter. “A chocolate bar. I forgot it.”

She smiles.

“That’s ok.”

“I thought you might need the energy since it was a pretty late night.”

The girl walking past them darts an interested glance in their direction. MJ glares at her, but Peter really could’ve phrased that to sound more innocent. Because it was innocent. Wasn’t it? A couple of students collapse from the exhaustion of midterm assignments. That’s not a clever romantic setup, it’s overwork thanks to a system designed to crank them through the academia factory and spit them out at the end with a degree.

“Yeah. Um, I’ll survive,” she promises. “You better get to class.”

Peter takes a few steps and turns back like he’s struggling with something, wanting to speak.

“Seriously, Parker,” MJ insists. “If you’re late, I’ll almost feel bad.”

This is supposed to be the part where he laughs, but her roommate just looks conflicted as he walks away from her.

He almost brought her a chocolate bar. God, she is so fucked.

 Friday, February 12th

That’s not just friendship, that’s romance too/You like music we can dance to ― “I’ll Try Anything Once” (The Strokes)

“Have you been waiting long?” MJ asks when she leaves class and Peter’s standing right outside, hands in his pockets.

He scrunches his face up and turns to fall into step with her as they leave the building, then campus.

“It sounds better if I say, ‘no,’ right?”

She laughs and looks over at him.

“If you do, I’m going to assume that, on top of finishing class an hour before I do, you were also let out early.”

“It’s that obvious I’m trying that hard?” he asks with a sheepish smile.

What. MJ can’t respond.

After a minute, Peter sighs.

“I might as well tell you that my prof said we didn’t have to come today.”

“You didn’t actually have to be on campus at all?”

“No.”

“So, you’re just here...”

He nods at her implied ‘for me.’

“We’re on break now,” Peter reminds her. “Let me walk home with my roommate.”

“Might as well. Last chance.”

She feels him staring at her, but MJ does her best to look straight ahead as they walk back to their apartment.

He’s on the phone with Ned later, sitting on the arm of the couch in their living room. MJ starts putting her things together, neat piles of books and folded clothes that’ll be easier to pack tomorrow and Sunday. She leaves her door open. It used to annoy her (or she lied to herself that it did), how often Peter and Ned talk on the phone―don’t they know their generation isn’t supposed to do that anymore?―and the fact that her roommate’s soft voice carries so well through their apartment. Ok, fine, it doesn’t carry that well, she just listens for it. She can admit it now, in her bedroom, standing near the doorway to hear his happy voice.

Peter’s flopped backwards, off the arm and onto the couch and still talking animatedly to his best friend, when MJ emerges from her room. She walks directly to the couch and drops her balled-up cozy socks onto his stomach, fleeing before he can attempt to catch her eye.

 Saturday, February 13th

This is not a test, welcome to the party/I’ve been on my best behaviour, but I think it’s time/ You saw the other side ― “Best of Me” (Amanda Marshall)

MJ ruthlessly scours the apartment for every article of her clothing that could possibly be dirty. It’s not a tough job; unlike Peter, she mostly keeps her stuff in her bedroom. She has a sack for carrying her laundry to their building’s first-floor machines (because an actual laundry basket takes up too much space with its defined corners) and she stuffs it, lugging everything down there before breakfast. Waiting around is kind of nice because none of the other tenants have shown up yet. Plus, like always, MJ has a book. She transfers her load from the washer to the dryer and leans back against the wall, flipping through a yellowed, soft-paged copy of The Joy Luck Club.

Since she’s been doing laundry down here all year (except for when she goes home for the weekends and winter break), MJ knows the ways of these machines. Which is why it’s so disturbing when the dryer halts five minutes before its cycle should be ending. Unwatched, she jabs at the settings, but the machine’s completely crapped out, so MJ starts hauling her laundry back into the sack. The small stuff―socks, underwear, t-shirts―has dried, but her sweatshirts are still damp. Unfortunately, with the stress of assignments, the sweatshirts are what she’s primarily lived in the past few weeks, meaning all four of them were in there at once, and all four of them are too damp to put on.

She laughs bitterly at herself; at the last second, she’d even taken off the sweatshirt she had on over her tank top.

To stay warm and keep herself from running into anyone, MJ pounds up the stairs and slips into her apartment. She can pack up the dry clothes and hang the sweatshirts off her doorframe, her chair, wherever else seems suitable, until they dry. She’s flinging one over the shower rod when Peter comes walking down the hall and pokes his head in.

“The dryer...” she starts to explain, positioning her sweatshirt, but Peter disappears. MJ rolls her eyes.

In a minute, though, he’s back. When she turns to leave the bathroom, her roommate thrusts one of his own sweatshirts at her.

“Peter,” she sighs, “stop trying to take care of me.”

“Ok, I will after this.” He shakes the sweatshirt at her. “Put it on.”

“What are you trying to do, nerd? Mark me as your territory? Quit being such a Neanderthal.”

With a smirk, MJ brushes by him, but Peter tries to lay the sweatshirt over her shoulder. She shrieks a laugh, ducking to escape it, and suddenly her roommate has his arms around her waist, picking her up with her back to his chest.

“You’re gonna be cold,” he huffs, leaning backward as she squirms.

“I’ll get a blanket!”

“A blanket will get in the way while you’re packing!”

“I’ll cope! Let me go pack!”

“Just wear! My! Sweatshirt!”

She goes limp and he sets her on her feet.

“I surrender,” MJ declares.

“Good.”

Peter bends to pick up the sweatshirt she’s shaken off with all their goofing around, breaking his hold on her, and she bolts for the living room yelling, “Sike!”

Logically, she’s aware that she can’t outrun Spider-Man, but a giddy mania pushes her to attempt it. He tackles her into the back of their couch before she can clamber over. Well, it’s sort of a tackle. Actually, Peter’s barely touching her, but he’s behind her with his hands gripping the back of the couch to either side of her hips.

“There,” she says, feeling him at her back, “you saved me from being cold.” MJ turns with a prepared smile; as the silliness fades away, the way his exhalations hit her back felt too much like tension. She meets his eye, straightening up because he’s so close. What did he say? They’re never close? “I’ll just jog up and down the hall every so―”

Peter kisses her mouth.

Just as she begins to lean into it, brain swirling and spiking with confusion, he steps back. Then again. Again, again, again. He spins at the hall and goes right to his bedroom.

MJ doesn’t know what to do, so she stands there a few minutes, face working its way through a series of expressions dictated by the imaginary conversation she and her roommate are having in her head. The one they have because he stays put two goddamn seconds after planting one on her. His sweatshirt’s on the floor near the kitchen. MJ walks over and yanks it on, feeling vulnerable and bewildered.

Eventually, she plods back to her room.

It’s a shock when Peter knocks on her door a while later. She left it open, which was terrifying. She just figured, with this being the end, truly the end, she would allow whatever was going to happen to happen. If the kiss was an awkward misunderstanding, MJ will be leaving that behind with all the rest of her conflicted feelings two days from now.

“What’s up, Parker?” she asks, not turning around to face him. She’s packing up her printer, stuffing it back into the box it came in and taping it closed.

“Do you need any help?”

“Not really. You can help carry my mattress out of here when my mom comes on Monday though.”

She’s anticipating a quip rather than an evasion. Peter Parker is the kind of friend who will voluntarily carry your shit when you move. But he doesn’t give her either.

“You’re really going.”

Slightly annoyed, MJ turns to stare at him.

“Yeah, I’m really going. Hence the packing. It was your idea, remember?”

“It was easier when I thought you didn’t want to be here.”

She laughs the fakest laugh of her life.

“I don’t want to be here. You make loud phone calls and, and you come in late at night and you have socks everywhere. I think you might actually own every sock every human being has ever lost.”

He frowns at her.

“You never mentioned any of that. In the five months we’ve lived together, you never asked me to speak more quietly or put more effort into containing my clothes to my room.”

“Well,” MJ shoots back in exasperation, “now you know!”

“Are you mad at me for offering your room to Ned?”

“Peter...” She gives him a desperate look. It’s too late for this. Doesn’t he fucking get that? MJ exhales a sharp breath. “Peter, I’m moving out on Monday.”

“What if you didn’t?”

He’s being such an idiot. Everything is arranged. She can’t stay now that Ned’s about to come bounding in with his Lego and his best-friendship to be a better match for Peter’s roommate that she ever was.

“I texted my classmate on Monday about the room. It’s mine. I’m moving out of here, Ned’s moving in. Everything’s settled.”

“Could we unsettle it?”

Peter walks into her room, right up to her. His eyes are pleading and she doesn’t want him to see that this little trick of his works just as well on her as on anyone else. That she’s susceptible to him. That’s not who they are to each other; she’s made a very good career of being his sarcastic, distant friend.

“You just don’t like change,” MJ tells him. “You didn’t mean it.” The kiss. “It was just a misguided attempt to keep me here. Nothing more.” She crosses her arms.

“You’re gonna hate hearing this, but you’re wrong.”

“Maybe I’m right and you haven’t figured it out yet.”

Peter shakes his head.

“It can’t be just me who’s felt different since I told you Ned’s moving in. Something’s changed.”

She rolls her eyes.

“You think you’re an expert on my feelings because you saw me cry in a moment of stress.”

“And you saw me half-naked!”

MJ glances away in frustration and because she doesn’t want him to see her reliving that memory.

“Being first year roommates,” she starts after a long pause, “is a condition. It’s a state of being that’s meant to change.”

“Good! I want to change it! I want us to be more than roommates. MJ, why can’t this be easy?”

“Because you noticed me last week and I’ve had a crush on you since we were fifteen!” she blurts out. “And don’t goddamn ask me why I didn’t say anything because not everyone’s brave like you, Peter. Ok? Not everyone’s Spider-Man. Some of us are just the roommate across the hall. Let me fucking get over this in peace!”

“Sure,” he says, looking down. “Got it.”

Peter nods definitively and twists away. Reaching her doorway, he turns his head slightly.

“Just so you know, you only have me beat by a year.”

 Sunday, February 14th

By tomorrow I’ll be leaving/By tomorrow I’ll be gone/If you want to tell me something/You had better make it strong ― “Coming Down” (Dum Dum Girls)

On one hand, her mind knows the late-night assignment-finishing sessions are over for a while. On the other, it won’t let her sleep. MJ tosses and turns until almost four in the morning before she gets out of bed. In the dark, the only thing she can find to throw on over her pajama top is Peter’s sweatshirt, so she does.

Her thoughts felt so clear while she was lying down, but now that she’s up, things are hazy again. Did Peter really confess that he’s been interested in her since they were sixteen? Does that piece of information make her feel as mixed-up and, somehow, cheated as it did when he said it? Two morons in one apartment. Ned’s got a lot to live up to.

MJ leaves her room and crosses the hall to where Peter’s door is ajar, letting out a sliver of blue-white light. He’s probably sleeping. He won’t hear her coming if he’s sleeping. If he’s sleeping, she bargains with herself, she’ll turn right around and go back to bed. She eases the door open. Peter’s bedding rustles as he rolls over to face her.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she mumbles. Fuck. Worst possible icebreaker in this situation.

“If I invite you in,” he wonders, voice groggy with insomnia, “are you going to push me away again?”

“No.”

“So do you believe what I said?”

MJ sighs.

“I’m trying to.”

Peter waits a minute, then pushes himself up in bed to sit with his back against the wall.

“You can come over here if you want.”

She hesitates for less time than her reluctant nature wants her to. Putting her hand out low, MJ feels for the end of the bed and sits down. It’s miles from him. We’re never close, he said.

“You’re wearing my sweatshirt,” he notes when she doesn’t say anything.

“Don’t start with that again,” she warns, but it’s light. This time, he waits her out until MJ’s compelled to speak into their silence. She begins at a whisper. “Caring about you is really hard. When we were in high school, I sort of felt my role was the unnecessary third wheel to you and Ned, and it still feels like that. Like, I think about you and I worry when I don’t hear you come home at night and, yeah, Peter, I was hurt when you sprung the Ned’s-moving-in thing on me.”

“To be fair,” Peter chimes in, “I never thought there was a reason that shouldn’t happen. I thought this whole living together thing was just a favour you were doing me. So, when Ned brought it up, I thought, finally, I can give MJ a way out.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, well, so are you.”

MJ smiles down at her lap.

“I have to tell you all of it, ok?” Peter asks softly.

Her heart’s pounding too hard. The light in the room isn’t moonlight, just the glow of someone in the next build over’s TV through the curtains. MJ only looks at him when the mattress shifts; he’s getting out of bed, wearing a dorky shirt and plaid bottoms.

“Tell me all of it,” she prompts when he stops in front of her, looking like he’s forgotten his lines.

“MJ, I love you.”

It sounds so right, but at the same time, she’s so scared. It’s a painful thing, looking up at Peter’s face. One half aglow.

“So, that’s all of it,” she says, trying to digest his confession without being too distracted by the depth of his expression.

He laughs shortly at himself.

“Not quite.”

And he kneels.

“What the fuck, Peter,” she gasps, jolting backwards.

“I don’t have a ring because I really haven’t thought this part out,” Peter says. MJ can’t say anything. Her throat, tongue, and lips are all broken. “I just know that I can’t let you go. You promised your new roommates you were coming, and I promised Ned he was moving in here, and that’s fine. It doesn’t matter where you’re living, I’m going to love you. I can wait to get married, or even engaged for real, but I couldn’t wait any longer for you to know how I feel. That’s all of it.”

She’s stunned. He looks exposed and terrified, like he’s holding his skin open, waiting for her to snap his ribs one by one before ripping his heart out. It takes long seconds, many of them, for MJ to shift forward until she slides off the bed to sit in front of her roommate. She takes his hand.

“We are engaged for real.”

With a relieved burst of laughter, Peter grabs the back of her head and kisses her hard. Oh, she’ll put stipulations on later―no ring before graduation, no wedding until they’re both employed full-time―but right now, she’s following Spider-Man’s example and reacting on instinct.

“Oh, and I love you too,” she adds between kisses.

His hands slide down her back. Everything about the way he’s touching her says: finally. Maybe they’re skipping a step, the one where one of them asks the other out and they go on dates and meet each other’s families. But they kind of have done those things. They’ve been living together since the fall, eating dinner together most nights, easing each other’s tiny stresses most days. They know each other’s secrets and coffee orders. They know, period.

MJ loops her arms behind his neck to hold him against her while they kiss, but when they start to lean sideways, it’s Peter who mutters, “bed.”

He repeats it as a question and she nods, hands clasped in his as they help each other to their feet. It’s so simple, this part. Peter draws back the covers and they tumble and rearrange. Murmured admissions of inexperience and the way he blushes when she asks about protection―not because he hasn’t bought any, but because he has.

“You know we’re fucked if this part’s no good, right?” she checks. She’s only partly joking. “We’ve staked everything on this.”

“This is just you and me,” he replies. “Same as everything else.”

MJ has this vague plan to leave his sweatshirt on if he doesn’t say anything about it, but by the time they’ve shimmied each other out of their pajama bottoms, she’s ten thousand degrees. So she wriggles free of the sweatshirt and the t-shirt she sleeps in and Peter hugs her tight to him. He can’t be real. She puts her arms tentatively around his back, expecting her hands to pass right through him. But he’s solid and warm and on top of her, shaking slightly when MJ runs her fingers through his hair.

She keeps it up, smoothing his hair and stroking the back of his neck, as Peter’s mouth finds her collarbone, as his hand runs down her stomach to tuck between her legs. The hitch in her breathing makes him groan and bite down on her nipple. When she lifts her hips, he rubs her more fiercely. She orgasms digging her fingers into his chest―the other hand clammy against his hair line, maybe from her palm, maybe from his skin.

Chest heaving, he tells her they don’t have to do any more if she doesn’t want to. MJ reaches between their panting bodies and takes hold of his erection. Looks into his eyes as she moves her grip up and down. Convinced, Peter rolls off of her to bang open the drawer of his bedside table. She stacks his pillows, shuffling up higher, and when he returns to her, she raises her knees to cage him in. They both watch his hands put the condom on.

The next few minutes are measured in the evolving rhythms of their breathing. Peter works himself in and out of her incrementally, so much tension in his arms and back where her needy hands grasp. She needs him―it’s a miraculous revelation. That he’s been an essential part of her life, piece of her existence, and that it’s ok for her to need him, not just dispassionately or critically observe the best and worst of him. She holds him tighter and he clutches her thigh, pushing in all the way. This feeling is as much of a stranger to her as she’s been to herself.

Peter’s still for a minute. Quietly, he says, “We actually did this.”

“Yeah,” MJ agrees, tracing his spine.

Suddenly moving together takes priority over the disbelieving laughter they began to volley back and forth. She rocks her hips with and against his thrusts and it’s like they’re fighting to push the same swing from opposite sides―the movements don’t match up at first, but eventually, an instinctive force takes over and the swing swings. Peter breathes hard into her neck; MJ hooks her legs up around his hips. Single-mindedly, they grope for just the right speed, just the right pressure. He kisses her neck and her eyes roll back as she holds his face there.

When he drags against her, catching her clit, MJ uses her legs to make sure those electrifying passes continue. But Peter can tell from the sounds she’s making too, she thinks. Though brief and disconnected, her cries are climbing in pitch. He picks up the pace when she asks him to. Soon, soon, soon, there. MJ pulls him down to her, arms around his neck, and climaxes with her forehead pressed to his shoulder. Her roommate, boyfriend, fiancé, swears and speeds up even more; it’s a few seconds of a sensation that buzzes more than thumps or thrums and then he’s curling his arms under her, grabbing the back of her neck.

Peter shifts off of her and, when she doesn’t immediately come with him, gathers her to him. Of course, then he remembers about the condom and gets up anyway. MJ snuggles into the warmth he leaves. After a minute, he pulls back the covers to join her again and they share a shy reintroduction, slipping back into their pajamas. It’s when he reaches first for her hand that she realizes she’s safe.

Across the street, someone shuts off the TV. Peter’s room goes dark. They fall asleep.

 Monday, February 15th

Seven miles below me/I can see the world and it ain’t so big at all ― “This Time Tomorrow” (The Kinks)

“I’m seeing you for lunch tomorrow,” MJ reminds Peter, tugging her hand out of his. The final box of her possessions is in her arms. Downstairs, her mom’s car is at the curb.

He groans in complaint and follows her down the hall, past the kitchen, to the front door. Ned should be here within the hour; they staggered her move-out and his move-in to prevent collisions. And to give Peter more time with her. He admitted to that motive this morning, cooking them an omelette while MJ leaned her forehead against his back, smiling into his t-shirt.

“Ned’s key,” she says at the threshold. She holds it out to Peter and he pockets it.

“Thanks.”

MJ takes backward steps, moving away from him. He looks like he’s barely keeping himself from springing after her. She sighs.

“Come on,” she says, smiling. “Walk me down.”

[purplesurveys]

1545

Do you consider yourself a nature person? I love nature and being around it, but I don’t have as big of an attachment to it as other people may have. Like there might be others who reguarly seek hiking and camping and other activities like that as both hobbies and their own idea of therapy and solace, but I wouldn’t identify as one of them.

What kind of collection would you like to start? Nothing I want to start, but I want to continue my photocard collection. Thing is I already started earlier this year and kind of went crazy with photocards of V, then around April-ish I thought of stopping for a bit to 1) pace myself and 2) I focus on treating my loved ones for my birthday that month. That ‘a bit’ turned to ‘the rest of the year,’ because I never resumed my collection after April haha. I still buy photocards here and there, but I’m nowhere near as invested as I was.

What helps you take your mind off your problems? I really like taking surveys and tuning into Run BTS as my distractions – which are exactly the two things I’m doing right now. I don’t always resort to both of my go-to solutions at the same time...so when I do, that should tell anyone a thing or two about the state of my mental health at the moment hahaha.

Who do you miss, if anyone? I miss my college friends. I actually had the chance to see them all today – my college finally organized a face-to-face graduation for my class and it was scheduled today. But my main thing about it was that it’s been two years since I technically graduated and I’m SO over it at this point lmao – looking for a formal dress and getting made up and inviting my family to come over just doesn’t generate the same sparks it would have back in 2020, so I didn’t go. Plus my dad isn’t even home, so I didn’t see the point in going. The cons clearly outweighed the one pro (seeing my friends again), so I was more than fine not attending.

What do you miss, if anything? Well for one thing, this whole graduation situation is me feel nostalgic for college. Making me think how different my experience would’ve been if you took present-day extrovert!Robyn and replaced the introvert version of myself before; or like, how freer I would’ve been if I hadn’t been in a relationship and all its problems before. In any case, I’m not the sort of person who dwells on the past so these are just fleeting thoughts at best.

Do you prefer to live alone or live in a family? I haven’t tried living alone but it’s something I want to achieve sometime in my 20s. Admittedly though I’ve never been all that good at being on my own, so preferably I live somewhere close or at least driveable back to my family just in case of emergencies.

What states have you visited, that you remember? I have never been to any US state, if that’s what you mean; but I’ve been to a number of provinces in my own country. My family loves to travel and have been all around two of the three major island groups here.

What countries have you visited? South Korea, Japan, Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, China.

What countries do you want to visit? I just want to keep going back to Korea dude. But if repeat answers don’t count, I’d go with India.

What states would you most like to visit? New York and Illinois.

What are five careers you’ve considered? Journalist, art curator, lawyer, economist (why???), historian. Do you use a sunlamp when it’s cloudy? No, just a normal desk lamp.

What’s your latest discovery? A local artist who makes tons of BTS-themed stickers, pins, and keychains – and they’re all so cute too?! I saw a whole inventory of her stuff at an arts and crafts store and was a fan in seconds; followed her on Instagram too just so that I can buy whatever new she puts out haha. That day I discovered her I got her Run BTS sticker set, a We Are Bulletproof: The Eternal sticker set, and the cutest pin of Yeontan even if I don’t even use/wear pins haha.

What do you wish your hair looked like? I’d have it trimmed all the way up to my neck again and dye it a different color, but my hair has just been the least of my priorities for a while.

Which family member has your exact smile? My mom, in most photos. Sometimes I’ll be able to replicate my dad’s.

Do you still feel anything for the first person you fell in love with? Nothing positive.

What’s one thing you’re behind on? My museum trips. I’m usually too exhausted to visit one on weekends.

Who was the last person you called? Angela. I called to check if she was home since I wanted to hand over my birthday gift to her already.

Do you take pictures on your phone? Yeah. I save more photos than take them, though.

How old were you the first time you loved school? 18, aka when I started college. Catholic school is a prison.

How old were you the first time you encountered God? Technically it when I was two months old, when I was baptized. I’ve never had a relationship with religion other than that crazy period when I was in high school and started praying out of nowhere lmao. I’m glad it fizzled out as soon as I started college though.

Have you ever hallucinated? Not that I recall.

Do you clean your place often? A few times a month.

Do you struggle to get by? Not right now, since I continue to live with my family. But if I started living on my own at this point in my life I’d get wiped out within a month – we don’t get living wages where I’m from.

What color is your wristwatch? I don’t use one, I hate its feeling on my wrist.

If you had a girl and a boy, what would you name them? I’m really liking the names Elliott (for either a girl or boy) and Charlotte (for a girl) these days.

Who is the best looking male celebrity, in your opinion? Min Yoongi.

Do you still miss a friend who betrayed you? No, I easily move on from those people once I cut them off. How many subscribers do you have on YouTube? I don’t think I have any, which isn’t surprising considering I don’t post my own videos.

If you’d like to share, what is your screenname on Instagram? Yeahhh I don’t feel like sharing that haha.

Do you use Snapchat? Not since 2020, and not regularly since like, 2017.

Do you enjoy typing? Yep, especially when my keyboard makes satisfying sounds hahaha.

Are you a fast texter? Yeah. I mean, the keyboard setup is the same so...

Would you rather text or call? Text. Do you know anyone who has everything handed to them? Sure.

Would you ever want to be a famous youtuber? It’d be cool to be a YouTuber yeah, but I think famous is pushing it. I’d find it ideal to have at least like a loyal circle of viewers but I don’t ever want to be Pewdiepie levels of big.

Do you know anyone who’s colorblind? Not to my knowledge.

[fangirlfiles1]

Making Contact: Part Five

Summary: Humans!AU. Roman and Logan are professional ghost hunters. They get a call from Patton and Virgil about a ghost problem but it may turn out to be more than they can handle. There’s something weird about this Virgil kid, and will Roman even survive this?

Pairing: Prinxiety

If you read any of my writing, let it be this!

Warnings: This gets pretty intense and dark. A lot of blood, wounds, trauma, abuse of many kinds, guns, etc. If I need to tag anything else let me know. Basically if you’re looking to be stressed and enjoy some angst, here you go!

TW: car crash, mention of death, blood, description of wounds, cursing

Part one is here

Part two is here

Part three is here

Part four is here

Virgil’s face was buried in Roman’s chest, hiding from everything that was happening. Roman wanted to let him stay there forever, to never make him face the world and it’s terrible things again, but he couldn’t do that. Even if he could, Roman couldn’t protect him from the thoughts that were running through his head. He knew that Virgil felt like the man’s death was his fault. If he hadn’t told them the story, maybe he would still be alive. If he had been stronger and tried harder, he could have gotten Roman and Logan out of the house and things would have continued as normal. If he had paid more attention and kept Patton from ever seeing his scars, none of this would have ever happened. How could he not think that way, with everything that had happened in his life? Roman wrapped his arms tighter around Virgil.

A hand touched his shoulder and he looked up to see Logan standing over them. “I’ve alerted the authorities, but we can’t risk being here when they arrive. We have to keep moving.”

Roman nodded and Logan turned back toward their car with a curious glance at Virgil. Without a word, Virgil pulled out of Roman’s arms and picked himself up off the ground. He pulled the sleeves of his hoodie down over his palms in a failed attempt to cover the cuts that covered his hands. Roman stood and opened his mouth to speak, but Virgil was already headed to the car with his arms crossed tightly, determination in his step. Roman looked back at the dead man that hung upside down in the driver’s seat. He half expected to see the petrified stare of the spirit that he knew was still there, but there was nothing. He followed Virgil and headed back to the car himself.

They had been lucky that they had only spun out of control. The damage was minor and the vehicle was still driveable. Roman pulled his door shut and Logan stepped on the gas, speeding away from the scene just in time to hear sirens in the distance. As soon as they were out of sight of the wreckage, Virgil spoke up.

“Take me back now.” No one responded and he balled his hands into fists against his thighs. There was fire in his eyes, he was furious. “You said that if I gave you a good enough reason you would take me back. I think someone dying because of me is a good enough reason!”

“We still don’t understand the sit--” Logan began. Virgil growled and punched the chair in front of him hard, cutting him off and eliciting a startled squeak from Patton.

“Fuck understanding, okay!? The longer I stay out here the more people are going to die.” His fingers curled around Patton’s head rest, the material compressing under his tight grip. “He’s a black hole. He takes souls and he uses their power for himself and the more people die, the stronger he gets! Take me back and leave me there!”

“No!” Patton whipped around, seatbelt catching and tightening against his chest. He tugged at it, trying to free himself, before unbuckling it all together. Roman was taken aback by the outburst, and the anger that burned behind his eyes. “No. We aren’t doing that. End of story.”

“Patton-”

“No! Whatever the plan is, wherever we’re going, we’re not leaving you there. We’re just not. So stop it.” Silence hung heavily between the four of them. Virgil turned away to stare out the window and Patton nodded and sat back in his seat, buckling himself again. He had won that argument. “So. What’s the plan?”

Logan thought for a moment. “If we return to your house, we will be walking back into a sea of ghosts. If Virgil’s father takes power from the other souls, then it is safe to assume that he is strongest when he is with them. He has already expended a lot of energy in his last two attacks, and the sun is coming up now. If he is like other ghosts, then he will be weaker during the day. Though he does have some notable differences.”

“Get to the point, Lo. We need a plan.” Roman said as he watched Virgil. He was looking into every car that passed, occasionally craning his neck to look into the vehicles behind them. He wasn’t going to let there be a repeat of what had just happened. He wasn’t going to let anyone else die.

“The point is, we can’t stay out here like this, and we can’t go back to their house. It seems the only option would be ours.”

Roman leaned forward, his shoulder throbbing in protest. “Ours? It’s two hours away, at least. Could we really risk being out here for that long?”

Logan shook his head. “I don’t see another choice. I’ll take back roads and pay attention to what vehicles are around us. Of course it will take even longer with the sporadic navigation. Possibly three hours, if not more.”

“And when we get there, we wait for him to show up and then we end all of this.” Roman leaned back against the headrest. “I could definitely go for finishing this up quick and then sleeping for a week.”

“Okay, but… how do you kill a ghost?” Patton asked. He sounded exhausted. They all did, but he was completely at the end of his rope. A paleness had set in on his face, almost light enough to compete with Virgil’s own complexion.

“We have weapons for that…” Logan began his tangent, explaining how the weapons that he had modified worked against ghosts.

Roman tuned out on that conversation and looked to Virgil once more. He held out his hand between them, “hey. Two pairs of eyes are better than one.”

Virgil finally took a break from scanning the other vehicles to look at Roman, and he blinked as his eyes drifted to focus on the hand that reached out to him. He hesitated, but eventually he took Roman’s hand. The blood on his hands was sticky, but they had seen enough blood that day that neither of them cared. Virgil’s hand was shaking. They turned away from each other to stare out of the windows, both determined to keep the four of them safe for as long as they could.

The real fight hadn’t even begun yet but they were already bruised and bloody. They had never come across anything like this. A ghost that used the souls of others to increase its power was unheard of, and they really didn’t know what they were up against. Could their weapons really work against something so powerful? It couldn’t be so easy that one gunshot could kill this man. But they didn’t have anything else to go off. Either they killed him, or he killed them. There would be no in between.

--

It took four hours for them to pull into their neighborhood. Logan slowed the car, “we need to act quickly as we don’t know how long it will take for him to arrive. I think we can all agree that we need food, so Patton, you have full access to our fridge. There isn’t much, but whatever you can find will be fine.

Patton nodded, “sounds like my kind of job!”

“I will collect our weapons and take stock of anything else we may need. Virgil, you need to keep an eye out for any signs of him. Roman, stay with Virgil. That shouldn’t be hard for you, and you need to rest. We don’t need you passing out in the middle of this. Any questions?”

Roman rolled his eyes at Logan’s comment, but he was right. He glanced down to Virgil’s hand, still clasped tightly in his. It wouldn’t be hard at all for them to stay together. There was a pleasant heat there, and he didn’t want it to leave.

They pulled into the driveway and everyone climbed out of the car. Roman’s hand felt cold when Virgil’s slipped out of his. The house was dark and messy, the complete opposite of the home that they had been in for the last twenty four hours. Patton quickly turned on the lights in the kitchen and set to work examining the contents of their fridge, while Logan disappeared into his room. Virgil looked around quietly before settling onto the couch. He leaned back and winced. Roman had forgotten about the scratches on his back.

“Virgil, come here,” Roman said, heading into the bathroom. He was surprised when he heard the springs of the couch squeak from the other room.

Virgil appeared in the doorway, leaning against it’s frame. “Why?”

“Let me look at your back.”

“No.” He immediately recoiled and turned away, but Roman reached out and grabbed his arm. The familiar warmth returned, and he let his grip loosen.

“I’ve already seen it. All of it.” His hand fell back to his side. If Virgil was going to let him do this, it had to be on his own. He had to decide to trust him. “It hasn’t scared me away yet, and it won’t now.”

Virgil stared back, his gaze dark and contemplative. It felt like forever before he finally muttered, “fine.” He stepped into the small room and pulled the door shut behind him.

Roman grinned, and he realized that it was the first time he had really smiled all day. He instructed Virgil to sit on the edge of the bathtub with his feet in. Immediately, Virgil pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into the corner of the room. He was clearly not in the mood for playing games or wasting time.

“Just get it over with,” he grumbled.

Roman stared at the marks that stained his back, feeling his stomach churn. Old scars were covered by new wounds and blood had dried in drip marks down to the small of his back. There were so many of them, criss crossed over each other. How long had he endured them, and how had he hidden them all this time? The new wounds were deep, but they had stopped bleeding a while ago.

He grabbed a clean towel from under the sink and ran it under hot water. He wasn’t very good at first aid, that was Logan’s thing, but he could at least clean it and bandage it well enough. It was better than nothing. He kneeled behind Virgil and gently wiped away the dried blood, avoiding the wounds themselves for as long as he could. Virgil didn’t even flinch, but he was rubbing his hands over his thighs with anxious energy.

“So, I have a question,” Roman said to break the tension and hopefully be a distraction. “If you weren’t living with Patton anymore when you were sixteen, and you’re twenty three now, how did you two end up together again? And how did you keep him from knowing that you didn’t get adopted like he thought?”

Virgil sighed. “Because I’m a good liar.”

“Oh, that’s a perfect explanation. I understand everything now, thank you,” Roman said, voice heavily laced with sarcasm.

“Why do you need to know so badly?”

“I don’t. I just thought that it would be good to talk instead of sit in silence. But if that’s what you’d prefer then I suppose we will do that.” Roman shut his mouth, focusing on the work in front of him. He had to keep rinsing out the towel as it stained with blood.

Virgil didn’t seem like he was going to reply for a while, but he finally spoke. “Like I said, I lied. When he found me, I pretended… I made up a family. I imagined them. I told him that… that I had moved out when I was eighteen, but that we still stayed in contact.”

“Didn’t he want to meet them?”

“Yeah, but I said that they were busy… or that they were sick, or any excuse I could think of. He thinks the best of people, he didn’t really catch on.” He spoke slowly and quietly, choosing his words carefully as if the wrong one would break him. “But they were good. And it was… nice to imagine that they were out there. Good people. It’s stupid.”

“I don’t think that’s stupid.”

“It is. I had to make up a family. How messed up am I?” He whirled around, making Roman drop the towel onto the floor. Virgil glared at it before staring intensely at Roman. “You don’t get it, do you? I had to imagine that somewhere out there, someone could maybe care about me enough to call me family. Because I’m a freak of nature, and no one wants me. That’s complete shit and you know it.”

Roman picked up the towel and rinsed it out once more, taking longer than he needed to. He stared at the red water as it spiralled down the drain. “Patton wants you. Isn’t he family?”

Virgil turned away again and picked at the seam of his jeans. “Yeah, I guess.”

“How did he find you anyway?”

“I’m not as good at hiding as I thought. I always checked on him and he saw me. He said that he had just moved out into his grandparents’ old place and that he had plenty of room for me. I couldn’t resist. I should have said no.”

Roman shook his head as he set back to work. He had no idea what to say. There was nothing that he could say to ease the guilt. If it had been him, he would probably feel the same way. It was no wonder that Virgil gave off such a dark vibe all the time.

“Anyway. This is stupid. You already know I’m a mess. Tell me how you and Specs started working together. You two are weirdly different.”

“Well that’s definitely a story,” Roman laughed. Virgil was silent as he explained.

They were both in their junior year of college, but they had never spoken to each other. Roman was a bored theater major and Logan was a man of science. They never would have crossed paths if it weren’t for the legend that the main stage was haunted. Roman, who was determined to entertain himself somehow, had set a quest for himself to find and kill the ghost.

He snuck into the school one night, sword in hand. It was dark, and he had walked onto the main stage when a loud “aha!” rang out from the theater seats. Roman jumped and drew his sword, flailing wildly, as the lights came on to reveal Logan with a night vision camera in the middle of the back row. As soon as he realized that it was just Roman, he was disappointed and angry, rambling on about a ruined investigation and how he would have to try again another night even though he had to work around a plethora of assignments and projects. Roman jumped off the stage and marched up the aisle to confront him about ruining his plans when he noticed Logan’s face pale.

He had been rewinding the footage in order to delete it, but there was something else on the tape, something other than Roman. Right next to him on the stage was a human silhouette. The legend was true. They both ran out of the theater that night, investigation and quest abandoned, but they became a team. At first it was just a plan to find proof of the supernatural, but eventually it became more. They realized that they could protect people.

“I guess that’s where we are now. Two broke ghost hunters, trying to do something good.” Roman tossed the towel into the sink one last time and stepped back. Virgil’s wounds were clean, but cleaning them had opened a few of them and his torso needed to be bandaged. He pulled a roll of gauze and tape out from under the sink.

“Yeah, and now you’re probably going to get yourselves killed protecting me.” Virgil stood and took the gauze from his hands. “I can do it.”

He leaned back against the counter and twisted to look into the mirror as he set to work wrapping the gauze around his torso. He looked like an expert, not even struggling to hold the loose end while he made the first loop. It was clear that he had been doing this for most of his life. It looked like second nature to him. When he finished, he paused. “Uh, I need tape or something.”

“Oh, right. Here.” Roman grabbed the tape and tore off a piece, gently pressing it on the seam at his chest. He ran his hand over it until it laid smoothly, then let his hand slide down to the bare skin of Virgil’s hip. He didn’t want to move. The heat that he felt when they touched was too much, but here, where it wasn’t accompanied by the sight of ghosts, it was good. He wanted it to stay, he wanted to keep that feeling forever. He looked up into Virgil’s wide eyes. “You’re worth protecting, you know.”

Virgil shook his head, a small movement, but enough to convey his doubt. He was hardly breathing.

“It’s true. There’s something about you… you’re different.” Virgil opened his mouth to reply but Roman continued, “no, not the way you think. In a good way.”

“I don’t know about that.” Virgil looked down, moving a hand to cover Roman’s, lacing their fingers together over his hip.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.” Roman’s other hand drifted up to Virgil’s neck, tilting his chin upwards. “May I?”

There was hesitation and then a small nod, and Roman gently pressed his lips to Virgil’s. It was soft and still, their breathing loud against the quiet of the room. Virgil gripped Roman’s hand tighter, looking for reassurance. It was too soon when they pulled apart, and Virgil leaned forward to bury his face in his shoulder. “Did you completely forget that I shot you or what?”

“I don’t blame you for that.” Roman whispered, running his hands up and down Virgil’s bare arms. “And you have more than made up for it.”

Virgil nodded against Roman’s collar bone and a knock on the door startled them both.

“Food is ready,” Patton called through the door.

“Thanks Pat,” Virgil replied, standing up straight. He looked up at Roman with the smallest of smiles, but it was enough. “Food?”

“Yeah, food. Come on.” Roman grabbed Virgil’s shirt from off the floor and tossed it at him.

Next Part

--

A/N: Hey guys, long time no see! I’m so sorry that it took me six months or however long to get this next part out, but I truly hope that the events of this chapter were enough to make up for it! Love you guys. Let me know what you think, I love reading comments and such!!

[parkerjasmine1996]

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Average Cost of Car Insurance in San Jose Cost of Insurance by CompanyIn order to take a look at the cost of your insurance policy, check the pricing table below. While some companies require you to take a medical exam, San Jose auto insurance companies require you to apply for an SR-22 form and the required documents are: So, when can I buy auto insurance in San Jose? As we mentioned above, there are many insurance companies for auto insurance in San Jose that will give you the best rates and offers. In order to compare the cost of insurance to San Jose, get your cheapest quotes today in our free tool. If you’re looking for cheap car insurance rates in San Jose, get quick car insurance quotes from top top providers today. The following table shows the rates of auto insurance coverage from many top providers worldwide. You’ll also find the best rates in our handy comparison tool. The table also shows the difference that varies based on your personal requirements. When you want a quick free car insurance quote, it�.

Average Cost of Car Insurance by Postal Code

Average Cost of Car Insurance by Postal Code*$1,000$3,500$26$53$109$85$160$85$230$85$245$94$290$121$125$162$190$225$244$305$290$125$178$222No data available$100$140$205$235$255$322$352$352$362$359$387$426$445$444$444$423$424$429$429$441$429$436$458$460$472$472$472$473$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474$474.

Cheap Car Insurance in San Jose:

Cheap Car Insurance in San Jose: California insurance rates are lower than in other states. But the cheapest insurance is still a good idea. Cheap auto insurance in San Jose can vary by hundreds of dollars, depending on the insurance company. Auto insurance rates in cities like Fresno, San Jarvada, Elgin, Aurora, Glendale, San Bernardino, San Joaquin Valley, San Pedro, El Segundo, San Clemente, San Diego, Santa Clara, San Rafael, and many other California cities. If you live in , your cheapest auto insurer is called . Your rates will be calculated using several factors such as your age, marital status, driving record, and ZIP code. You can get car insurance quotes from six or more different companies in a short amount of time. Then you ll get personalized quotes from multiple insurers. Find quotes from as many insurance companies as you need. Free Auto Insurance Comparison Enter your ZIP code below to view companies that have cheap auto insurance rates.  Secured with.

Cheapest Car Insurance in San Jose, CA

Cheapest Car Insurance in San Jose, CA San Jose had the , providing average annual auto insurance rates of $1,242.70 for single drivers and $2,132.10 for all couples. This put San Jose ahead of San Jose in the California table. However, California insurance companies cannot use the single driver coverage to provide a quote for all drivers. In San Jose, an insurance company may use a “post-issuer” quote to get a single driver insurance estimate. The quote will vary based on a number of factors, including age, gender, credit, location and driving record. The cheapest auto insurance in San Jose is a company-by-company comparison. California is one of the states with , which is where a man pays the highest insurance rates, followed closely by woman. A woman driver would pay around $4,800 and a man between $1,700 and $3,000 per year. San Jose drivers can take a look at the cheapest rates for a 35-year-old.

Insurance Rates by Credit Score

Insurance Rates by Credit Score Credit scores are the subjective evaluation supported by insurance company research, industry and consumer surveys. Insurers consider their credit score and their history of car ownership (i.e. how long, how far, and when it comes to handling claims) along with other factors. However, insurance companies cannot use your credit score to price a policy. Therefore, drivers should carefully evaluate the relationship between credit score and risk. It is possible that insurance companies use your credit score to price your policy, which can be a confusing process. To make their calculations easier, they use this ratio formula: Credit Score = 72.0 Couples Only: 18.4% Separated Couples: 20.4% Family Remarriage: 20.3% Current Insurance: $4,000 Current Auto Insurance: $4,500 Current Home Owners Insurance: $4,000 Current Liability: $2,500 Current Un.

[tenacioususedcars]

The firm favourite used Ford Ranger holds up well

Ford has sold about 200,000 Ford Ranger in the past five years, which means there are plenty of second hand versions available at a huge discount. Here’s what you should look out for.

The Ford Ranger for sale has practically reached cult car status. Designed and engineered in Australia, though built in Thailand, it has passionate and loyal owners.

In the past three years, the Ranger’s finished second only to ute rival Toyota HiLux as Australia’s best-selling vehicle, so clearly our love affair with Ford’s one-tonner is enduring, especially with the lifestyle versions.

Ford asks between R323,400 for the cheapest dual-cab, so for many people a new example is unaffordable to many. Little wonder they’re desirable used bakkie buys but late-model examples are still big investments.

You might want a Ranger for its tough good looks but you’re also buying one of the best all-round one-tonners in a crowded, competitive market.

It’s comfortable enough even without load in the tub (certainly more so than a HiLux), well-equipped and tows up to 3500kg. The 3.2-litre five-cylinder or later 2.0-litre twin-turbo four-cylinder are eager performers.

It trumps many rivals with excellent 237mm ground clearance, 800mm wading depth and rear diff lock. The PX2s also scored electric power-assisted steering, meaning light effort and easy manoeuvrability around town and quite effortless off-road.

No modern one-tonne ute is particularly easy to live with in town — they’re cumbersome, need big parking spaces, don’t enjoy cornering and the cost to own and run is more than a family car. Among the dual-cabs, the Ranger’s hailed by road testers and owners alike as one of the better for daily duties with impressive driveability and even reasonable fuel economy.

Which used Ranger model to choose from Group 1 Cars’s selection? The PX2 launched with 26 4WD variants, so study the Ranger’s full specifications carefully.

Mid-spec XLTs were the popular choice, with decent infotainment and navigation via the eight-inch touchscreen. If safety’s your thing, the XLT (and Wildtrak) had an optional Tech Pack adding adaptive cruise control, lane departure warning, lane keep assist and reversing camera. From June 2016, the infotainment was upgraded with desirable Apple CarPlay/Android Auto for XLT and Wildtrak.

 The XL and XL Plus grades were more basic with steel wheels, vinyl floor and antique infotainment. The XLS added alloys and carpet, the XLT got a towbar and dual-zone climate control and the Wildtrak took on leather heated seats and ambient lighting. The FX4 launched in February 2017 had black body bits and leather seats.

In the super-cab body style, the rear seat lacks comfort and Isofix points, making dual cabs better for family use.

When the PX3 Ranger arrived in September 2018, the big deals were the 2.0-litre bi-turbo mated to a 10-speed auto gearbox — and the Raptor, the new chief ute rooster. Also available were autonomous emergency braking and further active safety kit.

What to look for

Any Ranger you consider should have an impeccable service record: intervals are annual or every 15,000km. Be wary of any seller telling you they know their way around a vehicle and have performed oil changes in the car port. If the 3.2-litre’s oil is allowed to drain out completely and not refilled rapidly, there’s a danger the oil pump won’t be able to self prime, toasting the engine.

As these Rangers are reasonably new-ish, and with Ford’s reasonable capped price service charges, favour one with a full dealer service history, or at least the stamp of a specialist independent garage.

How’s the Ranger been used? Its good looks work for it here: many have been driven exclusively on road by those keen on the image of a rugged lifestyle without actually taking part. Prioritise any with low kilometres, free of any off-road specific enhancements, and the only scratches in the tub being from the weekly shop.

Any that have been used for regular heavy towing (such as circumnavigating Australia with a caravan), beach or off-road driving — look for underbody bashes and scrapes, small scratches to the body panels and caked-on mud or sand in hard-to-reach places — will have lived a tougher life than the city slickers but need not be dismissed.

Check the ownership history. At this age, one private owner from new is the target. Any owned by a worksite or mining company will no doubt have lived a tougher life with less love lavished.

High used prices make a pre-purchase inspection a no-brainer. Spend a few hundred bucks on a specialist – or get Ford to do it – and you could save thousands down the line.

If on test drive there are nasty vibrations, harsh gear changes, rattles, knocks or misfires from the engine, or excessive smoke from the exhaust, look elsewhere. Many Ranger engines and gearboxes have been replaced under warranty.

Test in high and low-range off-road too. Some owners report the transmission popping back into 2WD.

Among known flaws are aircon failure and electrical gremlins. If adaptive cruise control is fitted, test it out, along with Bluetooth and the screen’s functionality.

There have been numerous model and year-specific recalls. Check any against the vehicle’s details at productsafety.gov.au

Being such a popular vehicle means there are numerous owner and enthusiast resources online. Join the Ford Ranger Club Australia’s Facebook page for a gold mine of relevant information. 

Enduringly popular — and for good reason. Many owners find Rangers reliable and excellent all-rounders on-road, off-road and as workhorses. The XLT and Wildtrak dual-cabs are best for lifestyle use, unless you can dig deep for the “we all want one” Raptor. Lingering reliability doubts remain. Favour any in warranty, perfect service records are a must and get an expert pre-purchase inspection performed.

 Article from: https://ultimateusedcars.wordpress.com/2020/08/03/the-firm-favourite-used-ford-ranger-holds-up-well/

[fastmusclecar123]

New Post has been published on http://fastmusclecar.com/best-muscle-cars/muscle-car-news-auctions-stripes-power-and-reliability/

Muscle Car News: Auctions, Stripes, Power and Reliability

By Dave Ashton

The world keeps spinning, the world keeps turning. The same is true for the muscle car world, both old and new. This week hasn’t seen any new muscle cars drop, but there is at least a muscle car inspired SUV, a groundbreaking auction and a good bunch of custom builds available. So, let’s have a closer look at the latest muscle car shenanigans and if it gives any indications of any future trends.

1971 Plymouth ‘Cuda With Patina May Hit $1M

Topline muscle car auction fair is usually required to be as pristine as a surgeon’s table to fetch top dollar prices. In this case, an restored 1971 Plymouth ‘Cuda convertible is bucking the trend as there are only 17 examples of this rare muscle car. To also up the ante, its only 1 of 2 produced to be an export car.

This ‘Playboy Cuda’ which got its name from its bunny icon on the rear valance, has standout features which include a V-Code 440 6-BBL V8 engine, an A727 Torqueflight automatic transmission, EV2 Tor-Red exterior and power brakes. Although there’s not much information about the car’s back history, it was apparently in storage for over 35 years, having the drivetrain and mechanicals refreshed a few years ago to make it driveable. The rest of the car is as it rolled out from the factory.

The estimated value is $500,000 – $700,000, but whispers say that to the right buyer, the price could hit anywhere near the $1M mark. If this particular Mopar takes your fancy, check out the auction listing here.

Dodge Durango Hellcat

Ok, the 2021 Dodge Durango SRT maybe an SUV, but before this current generation is phased out, it will feature the supercharged 6.2L Hellcat V8. 2021 is a bit too far away for some, so the guys at Vector Motorsports made their own version from the 6.4-liter Hemi V8 factory edition and added a ProCharger blower.

The ProCharger is a centrifugal type supercharger, which uses belts instead of exhaust gases. Which means the power isn’t as instant as found on a roots or twin-screw type, but the ProCharger can still produce gobs of power. This setup producing more than 700hp to all four wheels.

To cope with the extra power, other goodies have been added, such as a full Motion Control Suspension and other engine upgrades. You can check out its performance at the Michigan’s Gingerman Raceway in the video below.

Hennessey’s 1,012 HP Dodge Charger Hellcat

The widebodied Dodge Charger Hellcat may please most, but that hasn’t stopped the guys at Hennessey Performance performing their usual wizardry and producing more power. Their new upgrade package ramps up the regular 707 hp version to 1,012 hp and 969 lb-ft, of torque.

This equates to 817 hp and 730 lb-ft at the rear wheels and according to Hennessey translates to a 60 mph time of 2.8 seconds and a quarter-mile in 9.9 seconds at 141 mph.

For some truly custom muscle car work, Hemi Autoworks and Ellsworth Racing have teamed up to produce a Hybrid of a 1970 Dodge Challenger, with a Dodge Viper chassis and Hellcat engine. A Kong Performance supercharger has also been fitted, but to stretch the Viper chassis over the Challenger body, a total rebuild was needed, which you can check out from the link above.

Why the Stripes?

The ubiquitous stripes that run down the length of a muscle car obviously increase the power 10 fold, but where did they originate? It’s a feature we more or less take for granted these days, but racing stripes played an important part back in the early days of racing.

These days, racing stripes are mainly used to increase the visual appeal of a vehicle, but back in the day they were an essential visual cue to differentiate one car from another in a race. Back in the day before by the second video coverage and multiple monitor viewpoints, pit crews had to use their own built-in optics to spot their cars. Stripes made this job far easier, along with adding a touch of panache to the car’s look.

Slapping a single or double stripes down the length of the car was the first stage, with variations to the theme added by different manufacturers. For instance, the Corvette 1996 Grand Sport had two small red hash marks or small stripes on each fender, which echo’ed the 1963 Corvette Grand Sport with the same markings. These were originally duct tape, with the color red being just a happy accident.

Modern muscle cars may charge big for the stripe option, but at least now you know it’s not just a vanity thing, but based on racing car history.

Dodge Hit Big in Quality Survey

Dodge have hit the top spot of the J.D. 2020 US Initial Quality Survey which ranks problems with domestic brands in the first 90 days of owning the things.

Dodger owners only encountered on average 1.4 problems, while the likes of Tesla had 2.5 problems per vehicle.

[achrafchachi]

101 Best Hobbies For Men Of All Ages

1Pool/Snooker

You’ve probably already played one if not both of these games.

Most bars have pool tables, after all. But we’re not talking about playing after a few beers. We’re talking here about you practising over and over until you’re actually good.

Which is actually a lot easier said than done (especially with snooker).

2Golf

A classic gentleman’s hobby, right here. If you want to get out and in the fresh air but you’re not an adrenaline junkie

, golf is a great hobby to pick.

It can be expensive to get all the equipment, and membership fees are not always cheap.

But what we most like about golf is that your improvement is measurable. And like other individual sports, it requires a high level of mental concentration. This engages your mind on the task at hand, forcing any negative or stressful thoughts to take a backseat. For 9-18 rounds at least, anyway.

And if you’re on the corporate ladder, not much eases the climb like an invite to play a round with the boss.

3Archery

Hey, if you tried and enjoyed darts, why not get involved with darts for the big boys. Yep, we’re talking about archery.

Shooting an arrow from a bow is fun, requires skill, accuracy, concentration, and makes you feel like you’re in an old western. It’s also known to improve your patience.

4Shooting

A very manly hobby idea indeed, this one.

Target shooting is a lot of fun, although you can get lost down a rabbit hole of what gun to buy and it can end up costing you big. But there’s definitely something satisfying about learning to shoot and improving your aim.

Just don’t go crazy and shoot a bunch of people and blame us.

5Working Out

This isn’t a particularly ‘out there’ suggestion, granted, but it’s still worth mentioning.

Going to the gym is a very popular hobby for a lot of guys, and on the off chance you’ve never tried working out—you should give it a go.

Even if you don’t fall in love with it, it’ll boost your form, flexibility, and fitness levels and you’ll feel much better physically and mentally.

If you want to start out at home, you can get a lot done with a pair of dumbells and a bench. These two are solid options:

TELK Adjustable Dumbbells (105 LBS Pair) with Gloss Finish and Secure Collars, 65 with Connector, 105 to 200 lbs

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Last update on 2020-05-14 / Affiliate links / Images from Amazon Product Advertising API

Bigzzia Adjustable Olympic Weight Bench - 7 Positions, 330 lbs Capacity, Folding Flat/Incline/Decline FID Bench, Perfect for Full Body Workout and Home Gym (Black)

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6Martial Arts

If you dig Kung Fu movies, then you’ve probably always fancied trying your hand at a martial art or two. It’s great exercise, you learn about other cultures and, vitally, you learn self-defense.

Maybe you handle yourself already, but a clever choke hold is probably preferable to windmilling an entire bar of people.

7Riding Your Bike

Cycling’s a good way to get outside more. It can also get you from A to B quicker than driving in some cities (dudes from L.A. and San Fransisco will know the pain).

But it can also be an easy way to get and keep fit. But don’t be a hero. Remember to wear a helmet. They may look stupid but they stop you from dying.

8Darts

Again, there’s a good chance you’ve thrown a few darts around in your time.

It’s a quick, fun thing to do with friends while out drinking. But play a little more seriously and you’ll be rewarded with seeing yourself get better at something.

And, your math skills will improve. A double whammy.

ON SALE NOW

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9Sailing

Alright, so you may need a little bit of a budget for this one.

And be quite close to the coast. But if you can rent, borrow or even buy a boat, there’s nothing quite like learning the ropes (and knots) and hitting the water in a sailboat.

It’s hard work, though. Don’t underestimate it. But the hard work pays off. It’s also a really good way to ‘tech detox’ and recalibrate your brain with nature.

10Parkour

A heart-racing French invention, parkour is basically running about a bit. But not on a flat surface, oh no.

You’re supposed to vault walls and scale buildings and jump over things. It’s an incredible workout and tests your problem-solving skills too.

You’ll need a good basic level of fitness before you get started, though.

11Rock Climbing

There are two ways at looking at rocks.

1.) ‘Oh, a rock. I’d best get out of its way.’

Or 2.) ‘Ooooh! A rock! I’d best climb all over that.’

If you look at them as climbable, then you’ll already probably be a rock-climber.

If you don’t, maybe trying climbing over or up some rocks. You never know, you might enjoy it.

12Surfing

Again, this hobby requires you to live kind of near the sea.

But it the waves are a driveable distance, then surfing can be a fun hobby indeed.

It takes practice, though. Don’t expect to try it and master it straight away. It’s hard work. And tiring too.

See the movie Point Break for more information on surfing and bank robbery – a slightly less advisable hobby.

13Fencing

If you’ve always seen yourself as a bit of an old school charmer type, then maybe fencing’s the hobby for you.

Elegant, quick, unique, you can guarantee it’s a hobby that will intrigue anyone you tell about it.

Provided they don’t think it’s about putting up fences and not, you know, sword fighting. Let’s be honest, they’re probably just going to think you watched The Mark of Zorro one too many times.

But who cares.

14Obstacle/Endurance Races

You’ll need a high starting fitness level for this.

We’re talking about marathon races, triathlons, weird obstacle races, iron mans, those weird running through mud things…

This one’s also a lot of hard work. But the feeling of individual achievement on completing one is pretty hard to beat.

15Skiing/Snowboarding

Preferably, you’d live in a snowy area for this kind of activity. But it’s not necessarily vital.

Plenty of towns and cities have dry ski slopes now. You could practice on those and just try to fly somewhere for skiing once or twice a year (more if you’ve the time and money for it).

It’s fun and it’s great exercise.

16Swimming

Speaking of excellent exercise, it doesn’t get much better than swimming when it comes to fitness.

It’s an all-over workout and helps with all sorts of things like asthma and bad backs.

It’s super inexpensive too.

Our Speedo pick if swimming for fitness:

Speedo Men Race Endurance+ Polyester Solid Square Leg Swimsuit

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And for a more casual swimming style:

SULANG Men's Lightweight Quick Dry Predator Graphic Board Shorts Large 34-35,Green Shark

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17Canoeing

Canoeing is a bit of a classic male hobby.

Getting into one of those tiny boats and fighting against the tide (or just going with the stream) is a lot of fun.

You’ll need a few lessons before you hit the rapids, though. If you dig kayaking but don’t enjoy the helmets, maybe try rowing. Another fine male pursuit.

18Boxing

There’s a perception that boxing is an aggressive thing. But it isn’t.

It’s a disciplined sport that promotes fitness and the release of anger in a managed and controlled environment.

What better way to rid yourself of stress and anxiety than by thumping a huge leather bag (or a buddy that’s gone to the boxing gym with you)?

Trideer Pro Grade Boxing Gloves, Kickboxing Bagwork Gel Sparring Training Gloves, Muay Thai Style Punching Bag Mitts, Fight Gloves Men & Women (Black & White, 10 oz)

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19Running

Hey, who said hobbies had to be complicated and weird and require a load of equipment and research?

Sometimes a new interest can be as simple as getting your sneakers on and going for a run.

Running or jogging is one of the most popular hobbies for people across the world. And for good reason.

Running is not only good for your physical health, but it’s also great for your mental wellbeing.

Our favorite running shoe right now is the Nike Revolution 4. They’re super comfortable, lightweight, breathable, and the shock absorption is really noticeable when you run.

Check them out:

Nike Men's Revolution 4 Running Shoe, Dark Grey/Black-Cool Grey/White, 10 Regular US

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If you’re on a budget, we’ve heard the Teslas are a pretty good grab for under $30:

No products found.

20Coach a Kid’s Team

If you like sport but you’re not the best at playing it, consider coaching as a hobby.

We’re not suggesting you apply to work for the New England Patriots or anything. But there might be a local side that could use a hand.

Volunteer for a kids’ set-up. It might be fun. Then again, it might be unbearable for you. There’s only one way to find out.

Musical Hobbies

21Playing the Guitar

If you already play the guitar, you’ll know it’s a great way to spend your spare time.

Learning new songs is always fun. You can pick up a decent axe for half a day’s pay and hit YouTube for tips on getting started.

Before you know it, you’ll be able to play easy three chord songs and you can go from there.

The Fender 6 is a solid beginner’s choice:

Fender 6 String Solid-Body Electric Guitar, Right Handed, Arctic White (0310202580)

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22Learn An Instrument

Guitar not appeal? Don’t dismiss the idea of a musical hobby altogether. You can still learn to master another musical instrument.

Piano, maybe? Violin?

Hell, even a harmonica isn’t to be laughed at. Sure, you might look like a hobo or Death Row prisoner playing it, but if it’s good enough for Bob Dylan, it’s good enough for you.

23Singing

Most of us sing in the shower or when we don’t think anyone else can hear us. If you’re a bit of a karaoke whizz and reckon you’ve got a good voice, maybe have a lesson or two.

You could either just do it for fun, or join a choir or a band.

24Start a Band

Now that you can sing, play the guitar and the harmonica…

Get a band going! It could just be a one-man show.

But if you’ve got friends who play, it’d probably be more fun to get it going with other people.

And if it turns out you’re not half bad, get a little set booked in at a dive bar or something.

25Start a Classic Vinyl Collection

If you’re more of a thinker than a doer and don’t fancy yourself as a musical prodigy, then maybe take up collecting LPs.

Be warned, though – starting a vinyl collection can be addictive and end up costing you A LOT of cash.

Still, keep it sensible and you’ll no doubt enjoy yourself.

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Victrola Navigator 8-in-1 Classic Bluetooth Record Player with USB Encoding and 3-speed Turntable

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Technology Hobbies

26Start a Blog or Website

If you have an interest already and fancy telling people more about it, you could start a website or blog about it.

These days it’s incredibly inexpensive and simple to get a website off the ground (hey, we’ve managed it, right?!). That said, it does take a lot of work if you decide you’d like to make it more than a hobby.

Designing, writing, publicizing, analyzing analytics, there’s plenty to keep you busy (trust us, we know…). But if it’s what you love, it won’t feel like work.

27Learn To Code

If you’re more technically minded and the writing side doesn’t appeal, you could learn to code.

It might be a fun thing to do on the side to keep you entertained. Or, if you do well, it could even turn into an alternative career path should you find yourself at an employment crossroads in the future.

Our editor has used Udemy to learn HTML, CSS, and other coding languages and highly recommends it. It’s a huge platform and has all sorts of online courses.

28Become a Social Media Manager

Messing about on social media is what most of us do with our lives anyway.

If you’re not on social media, join up. It’s a great way to stay connected.

If you’re already a bit of an expert, you could approach businesses with an offer to grow and manage their social media. Or, you could become an influencer on Instagram and collaborate with brands.

It can be surprisingly simple to turn the things you love into things that make you money.

29Online Courses

Going back to school can be an appealing prospect for some. Especially if you didn’t achieve everything you could have the first time, or if you want to learn new skills to further your career.

The best part? You can learn flexibly and at times that suit you. Again, Udemy is a great place to start for finding great online courses. Be sure to read the reviews before you sign up.

30Flying Drones

Now, you’ll need a little cash for this. And also a vague knowledge of the law with regards to aviation.

But if you’ve got the money for one and know you won’t be illegally flying it, zipping one of these about is well known to be a pretty good time.

HOBBYTIGER H301S Ranger Drone with Camera Live Video and GPS Return Home 720P HD Wide-Angle WiFi Camera for Kids, Beginners and Adults - Follow Me, Altitude Hold, Long Control Range

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31Video Games

Do you really need encouraging on this one…?

Video games fans don’t need telling twice to fire up their Xboxes, Playstations, or gaming rig PCs.

Hey – if you enjoy them, play them. Recent studies have also shown video games to be the best way for men to de-stress.

Just try not to overdo it.

Intellectual Hobbies

32Reading

Your new hobby doesn’t need to be something crazy you’ve never thought about or experienced before.

Your new interest might already be right there in your own home. Check your bookshelves.

Are they any interesting-looking books you’ve never got round to reading? Pick them up and give them a spin.

Or if you’re looking for inspiration, check out our list of 75 books every man should read.

33Researching

If it’s non-fiction you’re into, you might find that you’re really interested in a particular field.

True crime, say. Or history. Or politics. Or sport. Whatever.

Get into an area, dig deep, learn about it. Hit the library, go crazy on the internet… Really get in there. Become an expert.

This one links in well with starting a blog or website. As your expertise grows, you’ll have a lot of knowledge to share and will be able to add a lot of value to others (if that’s a road you want to go down).

34Writing

Maybe you’d like to try writing for yourself now you’ve read all those books and researched your favoured topic so thoroughly.

Try a blog for starters. We’ve already told you how easy it is to set one of those up. Then set up social media accounts for it. You can combine lots of these hobby tips,

You can combine lots of these hobby tips, y’know.

35Going Back To School

We mentioned online courses earlier. Maybe you don’t have the discipline for that. It’s fine to admit that.

Or maybe you have the time to attend a college or night school in person, or perhaps face-to-face tutoring is how you learn best.

36Learn Another Language

Most of us at some point in our lives will think about how cool it would be to speak another language.

So why not give it a shot? It’s up to you how far you want to take it. You could learn the basics of Spanish to make vacationing in Spanish-speaking countries a little easier. Or maybe you’d prefer to learn to speak Italian as fluently as a native.

Either way, you’re sure to be rewarded for your effort.

37Astronomy

If you’re the sort of dude who looks up at the stars and thinks, ‘I wonder what’s on TV?’ then this hobby idea might not be for you.

But if you’re the sort of dude who looks up at the stars and wonders about the universe, then maybe investing in a telescope and a few astronomy books might be a cool idea.

38Poetry

So you’ve tried your hand at writing longer form and you didn’t enjoy it. But you still like the idea of writing creatively…

Well, maybe poetry is for you. Sure, some of your friends might laugh at you, but screw them. You might have a talent and enjoy it.

Don’t rule anything out in your search for the perfect hobby, that’s what we say.

39Theater

If you dig movies and television, it’s not a huge stretch to suggest that you might appreciate the theater too.

It might sound a little high-falutin’, but plays were the first type of drama. They’re just movies set on a stage, after all.

And nowadays, some have some pretty spectacular production value.

Hobbies to Do With Your Partner

40Ballroom Dancing

Sure, you’re looking for hobby ideas for men.

Because you’re a man. But it might be a nice idea to get your girl involved in your new interest too. And we don’t mean make her get into dirt biking.

Strengthen your relationship while at the same time racking up some serious boyfriend or husband points with a little ballroom dancing.

41Salsa Dancing

Ballroom not really your style? Are you more of a quick-footed, red-blooded Latino type?

Then maybe you could give salsa dancing a try. There are plenty of clubs and groups, most meet in bars and clubs.

Sure, it might feel weird to begin with, but it’s great exercise. Look at it that way.

42Interior Decoration

Maybe you could amuse yourself and your lady by renovating a room at home.

Do some research, pick some colours, design some things.

You might find you’re more creative than you ever knew.

43Traveling

CLICK TO TWEET

Traveling really is one of the best things you can do in life, for so many reasons.

There’s plenty of fun to be had abroad. And maybe this is a bit weird, but I kind of enjoy planning the vacation as well.

You know, scoping for hotel deals, checking what’s going to be on when I’ll be there, packing my suitcase…okay that last one’s going too far.

Looking for destination ideas? Check out this list we put together for guys with partners, and this one for fellas who are flyin’ solo.

Oh, and be sure to check out Hotwire if you’re booking hotel accommodation. If you’re willing to gamble slightly on which hotel you get, you can save a crazy amount of money.

Hobbies to Do With Friends

445-a-Side Soccer

If you and your buddies just meet up and sit around drinking, maybe there’s something a little healthier you can do together that will give you all a new hobby at the same time.

And team sports make sense. Scaled-down soccer with five on a team is great fun.

Play once or twice a week and you’ll be fit in no time. And you’ll have a lot of fun in the process.

Remember though, no one likes a diver.

45Ten Pin Bowling

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pSV1c2eVkEM

Soccer not really your bag? Looking for something a little more relaxed?

If you’re more into silk shirts, hot dogs, and bottled beers, then get you and your boys (it can also be fun with another couple) signed up to a local bowling league.

46Paintball

If you love Platoon and Saving Private Ryan, but the Army’s a bit too much of a commitment for you, you can always pretend you’re a war hero by getting a bunch of guys together and shooting each other with bullets made of paint.

It’s top fun, a great workout and you get to employ strategic skills. Oh, and shoot paint at people.

Food & Drink Hobbies

47Cooking

Being able to prepare food is a vital skill you should have down to some degree by now anyway.

But regardless of how useful you are in the kitchen, there’s always room for improvement.

And again, if you get really good – maybe you can take it seriously and consider a career in food.

Failing that, you’ll be a guy who can pull off a range of different meals with ease. How awesome is that?

48Barbecuing

So you like the idea of cookery, but you prefer being outside to inside? It sounds like you probably appreciate flame grilling a huge steak much more than you appreciate pea puree and celeriac foam.

Well, take up barbecuing! It might sound silly, but there are real serious BBQers out there who invest big money and time into being the Barbeque KING.

You too can win that title in your neighborhood. But please note, if you win it, we can’t guarantee your neighbors will kneel on sight of you (like they should).

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49Alcohol Appreciation

Sure, you like drinking beers and enjoy the odd bourbon.

But perhaps you could read up on wine or liquors and learn their tasting notes and get a cabinet going. Become a connoisseur.

Don’t be a douche about it with other people, though. No one likes that guy.

50Brewing Your Own Alcohol

Carrying on the boozefest, brewing your own beer is a top hobby.

It’s a little like chemistry or alchemy. But at the end of it, you’ve got a whole keg or two of beer to drink.

51Distilling Your Own Spirits

Once you’ve read up on spirits and brewed your own IPA, now it’s time for the big boy stuff.

Make your own liquor. Create a headache-inducing moonshine if you like. Or get smart and create a beautiful Scotch.

It’s up to you how seriously approach it.

52Making Your Own Hot Sauces

So, you can cook, you can brew, you can distill.

Now for the ultimate manly food and drinkability… Creating a patented hot sauce that works great with food but is spicy enough to kick even the cockiest pal’s socks clean off.

Classic Hobbies

53Camping

An old style and very manly hobby, heading out into the woods with a tent and tins of beans is classic leisure.

You might want to go with friends or family. Or go full survival mode and try it on your own.

Learn to start a fire while you’re there. It’ll be rewarding. And warm.

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54Hunting

Again, this is very old school.

If you’re okay with the idea of sending out bullets to rip through the flesh of defenseless animals, then this might be for you.

Fun, no doubt. But whether it’s moral is It’s open to debate.

55Joining The Freemasons Or Similar

Fraternal societies like the Masons have kept men busy for centuries.

There are rituals to learn and people to meet. You can also find out if they really influence world events too. Bonus.

56Model Building

Most young boys will have played with or even built a few simple models as kids.

But that doesn’t mean it’s strictly a childish pursuit. Model planes and boats and things can be huge and enormously complicated. They can take ages to put together and require great patience, skill and resilience.

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57Hiking

If you like to keep fit and get outdoors, hiking is the pursuit for you.

It’s basically just walking, but in the countryside.

It’s good for the heart and you’ll discover the secret spots of nature within your local area.

58Being a Dandy

A little niche, this. But there’s a sub-culture of men who are all about the ‘Classic Man’. The dandy. The gentleman.

They wear sharp three-piece suits, slick their hair back and smoke pipes.

It’s fairly heavy, but if you appreciate all things retro, you might enjoy it.

59Fishing

Now we’re talking, huh? Fishing is the ultimate gentlemanly hobby.

Nothing makes a man feel more like a man than casting a line and successfully landing a fish.

It can be expensive to get all the gear, but we suggest you just borrow a rod for your first time. See if you like it.

60Cigars/Pipes

If you don’t smoke or can’t stand it, then obviously, this won’t appeal.

But traditionally, a man would smoke. If youu’re inclined to toke, maybe cigars and even pipes might appeal.

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61Become Interested In The Sartorial

You don’t have to become a catwalk model or invest half your wages in a new wardrobe, but an interest in fashion might keep you busy.

If you’ve always tried to dress well, maybe take things a little further and really read step up your fashion education.

Oh look at that, you’re already on the right website!

As a start, check out our guide on how to dress correctly for your body shape.

62Watches

A man should have a good watch. A watch enthusiast should have many good watches.

And maybe you’re destined to be a watch enthusiast. After all, there’s something quite beautiful about a well-crafted timepiece.

Further reading:

Vincero Watches Review: Are They Any Good?

Watch Gang Review (Black Tier): Thumbs Up or Thumbs Down?

13 Stunning Minimalist Watches For Men Under $200

63Falconry

This might not be the most popular option on our list, but it’s a classic male pursuit, for sure.

All you need is a big leather glove. Oh, and a falcon.

Animal Hobbies

64Bee-keeping

Alright, you might not fancy this suggestion all that much.

We get it. It’s weird, right? Dressing up like an astronaut and fiddling around with bees… But just think of all the free honey.

65Animal Rescuing

If you love animals, there are lots of ways of turning that into a workable hobby.

You can volunteer to help animal rescue charities. Or, if you’ve got the time, money and land, you could even set up something that helps abandoned pets.

66Dog Training

If you understand dogs and fancy imparting a little of your knowledge to dog owners, training dogs and helping their humans can be fun.

And you can even earn a little money on the side. Or you can just adopt some mutts for yourself and just train them to the max.

67Keeping Fish

Did you know that staring at fish can reduce blood pressure, stress, and even minimize insomnia?

While that’s pretty awesome, it’s also pretty fun to build and maintain the tank, and learn about different fish.

If you’re interested, start with a small tank and see how you find it.

68Bird Watching

Get some binoculars and look at some birds.

It’s as simple as that. Give it a flap.

DIY Hobbies

69Carpentry

The great thing about taking up DIY-based hobbies is that they can be fun and you can really see the benefit.

Learn a little woodwork and just think of the home improvements you could make.

70Lock Picking

We’re not encouraging you to become a cat burglar in your spare time, but locks are quite fun.

Each is a riddle begging to be solved. Learn to master them and never pay for a locksmith again.

71Gardening

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IsfoeUHMgP4

Ah, gardening. There’s lots to learn, plenty to keep you busy and if you stick with it, there’s a lot of payoff to getting a little green-fingered.

Scientists are finding evidence that gardening provides numerous human health benefits including reduced depression and anxiety. And as we recently explored, depression and male suicide is a real and growing problem in the world.

Not everyone enjoys weeding and getting dirty in their back yard, but you might.

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72Metalwork

Like with woodwork, if you can get into being able to work with metal, you might be able to carry out some home repairs for free.

Or just learn to create some cool artwork.

73Car Restoration

While you should already own a basic set of tools, learning how to fix your car can be enjoyable and save you a lot of cash on mechanic bills.

Plus you can buy old vehicles for cheap, tweak them a bit and sell them on. Fun and a potential money spinner.

74Motorcycle Restoration

Don’t dig cars, or prefer half the amount of wheels?

Then the same rules as above apply. Just with motorcycles instead of cars.

75Furniture Restoration

Maybe you like the idea of restoring beaten-up old classics, but aren’t mechanically minded. Taking old furniture and restoring it could be your thing.

Again, there’s cash to be made here too.

76Glass Blowing

Ever fancied making your own glass vase? Well, us neither.

Still, though – it’s an idea.

Cheap Hobbies

77Card Games

Play with pals, practice on your own, maybe even just learn to shuffle well.

A man and a pack of playing cards… It’s a classic combination.

You’d be surprised how long you can keep yourself amused for. And all for just a handful of change.

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78Volunteering

Here’s about as worthwhile a hobby as it’s possible to have. And it’s something we feel every man should try before turning thirty.

Fulfilling and a genuine help to others, volunteering for a charity is beyond a doubt one of the most rewarding and selfless things you could do with your spare time.

79Photography

After you’ve spent out on the camera, photography is a fairly inexpensive hobby.

It’s also creative, and a great way of expressing yourself. In time, you could sell the rights to your images for a decent side income, or even pursue it full-time.

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80Art

Interpret ‘art’ as you wish. It could just mean drawing or painting or whatever you like.

Whatever you do, though – it can be fun and shouldn’t cost the Earth.

81Board Games

Hey, so it’s not the coolest hobby a man can have on his own.

But if you have a bunch of friends over, board games can be a lot of fun.

Check out one of our favorite YouTube Channels, Beer and Board Games. It’s hilarious and you’ll get a feel for which games you might like.

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82Chess

You don’t need to be serving a life sentence in prison for a crime you didn’t commit to take up chess, y’know.

Anyone can learn at any time. It’s a classic game and really tests the ol’ grey matter.

And of course, it’s useful if you ever do get sent down by mistake.

83Poker

Once you’ve learned to handle a pack of cards, why not master a true game of skill?

Poker’s fun and you can play with friends, online or at the casino. Get good enough and you could even compete professionally, although this will require some financial investment.

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84Drawing/Writing Comic Strips

First of all. If you’re a comic book fan, don’t worry – we won’t tell anyone…

But if you do dig reading comic books, why not try writing and drawing your own strip? You might be the next Stan Lee. Or Stanley (that’s Stan Lee’s next-door neighbor who can’t draw comics).

Weird Hobbies

85Collecting Things

We’re not encouraging you to become one of those weird hoarders you see on TV, but starting up a little collection of something you’re into can be fun.

Before you start collecting though, we suggest you:

a) Make sure you have room for it all, and

b) Run it past your partner if you have one.

86Tomahawk Throwing

What? This section is called ‘Weird Hobbies’…

Knife or tomahawk throwing isn’t your run of the mill pursuit, we know.

But that’s the point. It’s quirky. But a real thing. Men in the 50’s used to strip to the waist and chuck sharp stuff around all the time.

87Antiques

If you back yourself as being able to spot a bargain, and you’re capable of bartering and selling things on for a good price, then antiquing may just be your bag.

It may seem unusual, but it can be entertaining and you’ll learn a lot about history. It can even make you some serious cash if you’re good at it.

If you’ve ever seen American Pickers you’ll know what we mean. Yes, they close out some pretty big deals, but as they’ll tell you, there’s good money to be made on the small stuff, too.

88Metal Detecting

Again, metal detecting might not be the kind of new hobby you thought you were looking for.

There’s nothing all that cool about being the sort of guy who combs beaches looking for bits of scrap metal. But the moment you find a whole bunch of rare coins? You’ll be loving it.

89Stamp Collecting

Yep, stamp collecting.

Hey, it’s the world’s most popular hobby for a reason.

90Bonsai Trees

Because we’re told there’s something quite peaceful and charming about growing and nurturing and caring for a miniature tree.

They also help you fight common illness like fatigue, coughs, and sore throats. This one almost falls in the gardening category, but Bonsais look pretty cool and we wanted to give them they’re own day in the sun.

91Building Train Sets

So you thought metal detecting was geeky…

Look, odds are, we know this suggestion might not be for you.

But hey – some people like trains. Some people like miniature trains. Bobby Baccalieri from The Sopranos did, and so might you.

92Historical Reenactments

You know you’re fully immersed in the weird and geeky suggestions when you’re being told that maybe as a hobby you want to try giving historical war reenactments a go.

But if you like history and messing about in-field, it’s an idea. Just, maybe don’t tell your friends. Or any women you meet outside of historical reenacting. Ever.

93Train Spotting

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q9773XbY5vA

Alright, now this is getting a little silly.

There’s virtually no chance this will appeal to you. It’s essentially standing around in the cold waiting to look briefly at a train. We’re struggling here to find the motivation.

But, still. Different strokes for different folks.

94Role-Playing Games

As you’re probably realizing, this section isn’t about being ‘cool’. We’re trying to hook you up with the perfect hobby. If you’ve got this far down our giant list and you’ve not found anything suitable, then we’ve got to dig deep.

And maybe RPG games are your calling.

95Magic

Magic can either be incredibly nerdy and lame or it can be spectacular and cool.

Learn a few tricks, don’t push them on your friends constantly, but a bit of sleight of hand is always impressive.

And there’s a whole world to learn about if you get into it…

96The Esoteric

Does reading up on the occult and about all things bizarre sound appealing? Then go nuts.

97Genealogy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_cfGoOaXR8

If history fascinates you and you’re a family man, then do a little research into your family tree.

A lot of people do it and get a real kick from it. And it’s understandable why.

You may track down a long lost relative and build an awesome new connection and insight into your background.

98Sewing/Knitting

Traditionally a women’s pursuit, you might think. And, well, that’s true.

But men knit now. And, in fact, men invented knitting. Specifically fishermen. So think again if you think it’s wussy.

99Meditation

If you’re stressed out and that’s why you’re looking for a hobby, try meditation. Even if you’re not, it’s something worth looking into.

Meditation is known to reduce stress, improve concentration, and even slow ageing, to name a few.

100The Stock Market

You might need a few bucks for this.

But playing the exchanges can be a thrilling (if dangerous) game. Here’s a great article to get you started.

101Pottery

You know, making pots. There’s not much else to say here.

Just like Demi Moore in Ghost (except without the spirit of Patrick Swayze groping you).