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The thing about this whole “multiple love interests” thing is that sometimes it becomes easier and easier to tell when you have a type. “Tell me you’re not still getting dressed.” “Excuse you—what superpowers do you have this week that make it easy hauling all that around?” Mary Jane’s round face scowled over a bloated buccula that buried her neck, “Because I can assure you that I definitely don’t have them.” Mary Jane had barely been able to stand up from the couch without getting out of breath, let alone dress herself without getting exhausted. Rosy red cheeks rounded out beneath layered scarlet locks as she huffed and puffed her way towards some semblance of decency. A pink and yellow striped tank top that would have been more circus tent than fashion ensemble on anyone else nestled nicely on almost the outermost swell of her stomach. Billowing out quite literally further than she could possibly reach (at least, reach all of it) Mary Jane Watson had finally achieved