Peter knocked on the door of MJ’s apartment, stepping back and waiting for the door to open. It did so after a moment, revealing a towel-wrapped Mary-Jane with her wet hair tied up in a ponytail and a toothbrush in her mouth.

“D’you always answer the door when you’re in a towel?” Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Only if whoever’s knocking is cute,” Mary-Jane winked, stepping back into the room. “C’mon in, Tiger.”

“Thanks,” Peter said, walking into the apartment and closing the door behind him. Being back within the apartment, he spotted a few things he noticed before and a few new things he hadn't the last time.

The old consisted of: the photos of MJ and her family, the TV, the shelves.

And the new consisted of: a new photo on the wall of MJ and another red headed woman that looked a lot like MJ but was too young to be her mother, a PS4 connected to the aforementioned TV, a new lamp on the table by the door, and, most importantly, how amazing MJ’s ass looked in a wet towel. Peter never admitted he was an outright sexpest but that apple bottom ass on the other side of the room was quickly making him lose all ability to think straight.

“Damn, she’d make Felicia jealous with that thing,” he said with a smirk.

“Make yourself comfortable Peter, you can go on the PS4 if you want. Just don't start a new run on the Binding of Isaac, I’m really deep in my mom’s womb and I don't wanna have to fight my way back in there again.”

“It's a good job I know what you're talking about, MJ,” Peter chuckled. “I think any other guy would've run for the hills after hearing that statement.”

MJ laughed from the other room and Peter took a seat on the couch, booting up the PlayStation by hitting the home button on the controller and turning the TV on with the remote, the unfamiliar U.I and annoying menu music shocking him, only to have his new experience slightly marred by the name of MJ’s account.

“Harry Bualls?” Peter asked with a smirk. “Well, no one ever accused Miss Watson of being a mature lady, did they?”

After going on the account and browsing through some of the games he noticed a download version of Hatoful Boyfriend, blinking blankly before scrolling past it. He found several other downloaded games, ranging from indie games to disappointing triple A titles before settling on a favourite: The Witcher 3.

“Awesome,” Peter said with a smirk. “Girl’s got good taste, though that does make me wonder why she's dating me.”

“Not a date!” MJ called out from the other room.

“Sorry!” He responded, starting the game and sitting through the overly long loading screens.

“Y’know something I never understood about that game?” MJ asked from behind him, now sporting an all black outfit consisting of skinny jeans, T-shirt, and a jacket, eyes locked onto her pockets as she stuffed her phone into them.

“What?” Peter asked.

“It takes just as long, if not longer, for the game to load as Just Cause 2 did on a last gen console which was over ten times bigger than it, why is that?” She asked, looking at her hair in the mirror and making an unsatisfied growling noise.

“I think it's down to the fact that Just Cause isn't as good looking and the terrain isn't as detailed as the Witcher is…” Peter said before proposing an argument to his own point. “But then again, a game can look as good as it wants. Just Cause 2 had a map of three hundred miles, which a while to load no matter how good the game looks. But with The Witcher, it had a lot of unique areas, landmarks, and monsters to generate while it loads, whereas Just Cause might as well be called “Asset Reuse: The Game” with how many original different models it has in it. It has maybe four different enemy types, constantly uses the same buildings and vehicles no matter where it is in the map, and keeps the density of its greenery to a low level to keep the loading down.”

“Swings and roundabouts, then?” MJ asked, having lost patience with her hair and merely put it into a high ponytail, thickened it up, grabbed two bobbles from her make up bag, and tied two bangs of hair to hang over the fronts of her ears, turning to Peter with her arms spread.

“How do I look?” She asked with a smile. “Be honest.”

“Like a red-headed Samus Aran in casual wear,” Peter answered honestly, finding no better comparison.

“Awww, thank you,” MJ grinned, taking her key out of her pocket and twirling it on her finger. “It’s great to know I can look as hot as her without putting any effort into it.”

“What d'you mean?” Peter asked with a cocked eyebrow. “Are you not all made up right now?”

“Not even close, honey. Right now, I've only got on a basic foundation, lipstick, lacking a second layer of gloss mind you, no eyeshadow, no blusher, a fingertip’s worth of concealer, and half a pack of mints to keep me fresh,” MJ explained, counting each item on her fingers. “I didn't apply them in that order, by the way. That'd be a terrible end result.”

“Wait… that's not considered effort?” Peter asked in horror.

“Honey, at the age of fifteen, most women are able to slap all of that on in a matter of minutes. I didn't even mention using hair supplies, ranging from hair mousse, thickening shampoos, texturing gum, but only for flatter hairstyles, blowdrying with curlers, or a paddle brush or a comb, those three things getting different effects, the first two being quite similar but curlers are usually used for longer hairstyles with over the shoulder bangs, whereas the paddle brush used to get wavier patterns in waxed or gummed hair or for, with different movements, lifting shorter hair into a style like yours. Basically, I did the minimum amount to be socially acceptable to other women and feel pretty myself, while finding the happy medium between attractiveness and time spent achieving it.”

Peter stared at MJ for a long moment of silence, the sound of the clock somewhere in the room marking the seconds of brain death Peter endured.

“What?” He asked.

“Do I look pretty?”

“Yes.”

“Did it take forever?”

“No.”

“Did you like that fact?”

“Yes.”

“Would you rather have mildly attractive and short time or stunningly beautiful and long time?”

“Aren't we already at the second one?”

“Long time?”

“No, the other one?”

“Stunningly beautiful?”

“Yes.”

“You think I'm beautiful now?”

“I always do.”

“Awww… how gay.”

“Can we go now?”

“Sure thing.”

The two made their way towards the door before Peter spotted the picture of MJ and the other woman again, deciding now was a good time to ask.

“Hey, MJ?” Peter asked.

“Eeyes?” MJ asked in response, turning around to face him.

“That picture on the wall up there,” Peter said, pointing at it with his thumb. “Who's the other girl?”

“Oh, that's my older sister, Jennifer,” she answered.

“Huh, how old is she?” Peter asked.

“She's turning twenty six this year,” MJ responded. “She's been thinking of moving to New York for the past few years, but it's really expensive to get any kind of apartment in this city, so she's not sure about it.”

“Where does she live now?” Peter asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“San Francisco,” she said. “She doesn't like it very much.”

“Fair enough,” Peter shrugged. “Ready to bounce then?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “I think I picked out a good movie for us today.”

“Care to share?”

“No.”

“That's not a good sign”

“No, it really isn't, is it?”

The sinister grin MJ had on her face at this point told Peter that she'd planned something evil for him.

And that made him very scared.

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