madness-of-madi

[madness-of-madi]

The trailer's not coming out for a few months, so I'll be functional up until that point. And by functional, I mean only crying six times a day because of Infinity War.

Marvel: A4 IS GONNA PUNCH THROUGH YOUR CHEST, GRAB YOUR HEART OUT, AND STICK IT UP TO YOUR ASS ITS GONNA BE AMAZING

Marvel stans:

[madness-of-madi]

Finding a Constant: Part Five

Word Count: 3,283

Main Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, and Amrita Delport (student at Midtown High)

Warnings: slight depression, mostly cuteness

Setting: After Spider-Man: Homecoming, after Peter tells Tony Stark that he wants to postpone being an Avenger, but before Infinity War...obviously.  *muffled sobbing*

Summary: Amrita Delport has been moving around her whole life, but when her parents relocate to New York for some mysterious project, she is unexpectedly sucked into the life of Peter Parker, otherwise known as the neighborhood-friendly Spider-Man.

A/N: I really enjoyed writing the Monopoly scenes...*dreamy voice* memories...

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Amrita’s POV

My apartment was much too quiet. Not the peaceful quiet that I loved to daydream in, but the kind of quiet that threatens to suffocate me with its tangible weight. It was almost as if the room was packed with wool and I was just floating somewhere in the fluffy pile, unable to move or open my mouth to make a sound.

I’d take the annoying buzz of the school hallways over this any day, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I thought about leaving to take a walk like I normally did, but the second the thought entered my mind, I shut it down. I was not going out there alone again. Never again.

I pressed my face deeper into the red cushions, trying to escape the thoughts inside my head. My parents wouldn’t be home until around six, so I had two hours to sit and suffer in this stifling silence.

I suppose this was exactly why I’d accepted Peter’s invitation to the ‘party’. The second he’d mentioned monopoly, I’d known he’d made the whole thing up on the spot. And I had been about to turn him down as I always did, but there was something unusually vulnerable inside me that made me pause. Before I had time to process the unfamiliar feeling, I’d told him I could go. And now I was left wondering how I was going to distance myself after this.

When six o’clock finally arrived, my parents came home to me still on the couch. I had fallen asleep just minutes before, but I woke to my father shaking my shoulder gently.

“Wake up, Rita.” I blinked open my eyes and rolled onto my side to face him. “Why are you so tired? You didn’t stay up too late, did you?” “No, Dad,” I groaned. In all honesty, I’d spent most of last night staring up at the ceiling and touching my Spider-Man shirt when thoughts of the incident invaded my mind.

“Did you already take your walk? You know you’re supposed to text us if you leave.” There was a stern look on his face that made me groan again.

“I didn’t leave the house.”

“Oh.” He gave me a quizzical look. “Are you okay?”

I stiffened, but managed to paste a smile on my face before answering, “Perfect.”

He nodded and walked away, making me sigh in relief. My mother waved to me before they both disappeared into their room, presumably to talk about their big project in privacy.

I was nearly asleep again when my phone buzzed and interrupted my dozing. It was Peter.

MJ and Ned are coming around 5. Does that work for you?

It’s Peter by the way.

Parker.

I huffed when he added his last name, as if I couldn’t possibly figure it out on my own. I thought about making excuses and ducking out, but I ended up sending a very different response.

Sounds good. Where exactly am I going?

His address came through and I tapped out another reply.

I’ll be there. ;)

The winky face might have been a bit too much, but I couldn’t help myself. After all, I found myself taking a liking to Peter and his adorable awkwardness. There was also something else about him that drew me in, something I couldn’t place.

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It was another half-hour before my parents came out of their room and began preparing dinner. We ate and my parents ran through their normal questions, paying extra attention to my answers. I knew they noticed that something was off with me, but I could only hope that they’d let it go in time.

After dinner, I quickly dismissed myself to go take a shower. I let the water soothe my harebrained mind before getting out and toweling myself dry. I retrieved the Spider-Man shirt from where I’d left it on top of my bed and shrugged it on. It gave me some measure of calm to put it on. Even though I knew it was odd, I couldn’t keep myself from feeling attached to the thing that my hero had given me. I wondered if I’d ever see him again.

I laid down in bed and immediately knew that tonight would be no different from the last. So I rested a hand over the Spider-Man graphic on my chest and closed my eyes with no expectations of finding sleep.

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The next school day passed in a tired blur. It was all I could do to stay awake in my classes and feign interest in the teachers’ lessons. The only time I actually felt awake was during lunch.

I’d just taken my seat across from MJ and was already getting out my book when Peter sat down next me with his tray. A second later, Ned took the seat next to MJ, causing her to raise an eyebrow at him.

“Hey, guys!” Ned greeted with a radiant smile. “Excited for the party tonight?”

“Ecstatic,” MJ replied in her usual deadpan. I was surprised at the snicker that automatically left my mouth.

“We don’t have to play monopoly if you guys don’t want to,” Peter said, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck.

“No! It’ll be fun!” Ned exclaimed. I saw the look that transpired between the two boys and I nearly laughed again. Apparently, Ned’s opinion wasn’t the one Peter wanted to hear.

“I think it’ll be fun too,” I answered. Peter quickly looked to me and smiled a bit. But his expression quickly turned into one of concern when he saw that there wasn’t any food in front of me.

“Do you want half of my sandwich?”

I strained to procure a smile on my face. “No, I’m fine, Peter. But thanks.”

He nodded, but didn’t seem reassured. He might have questioned me further had MJ not intervened.

“So we’re meeting at your place around five, right?”

Peter nodded, “Yep.”

“Don’t you live with your aunt?” MJ asked.

“Yeah, I⸺how did you know that?” He gave her a confused look.

“I pay attention,” she said with a disinterested shrug and I found myself grinning at her a bit.

“I shouldn’t really be surprised at this point, should I?” She shrugged once again. “But yeah, I live with my aunt, May. But I told her not to bother us⸺she’s just gonna order a couple pizzas.”

“You don’t have to worry,” Ned chimed in, “May’s really cool. You guys will like her.” I nodded and MJ went back to her book.

Before the silence could stretch on too long, Peter asked, “So, uh...What’s your favorite Star Wars movie, Rita? MJ?” This time my smile wasn’t forced. In fact, despite his obvious awkwardness, Peter had a way of putting me at ease. I’d only known him for a few days, but he had this quality about him that managed to assuage my tense nerves.

“I like episode 4,” I said.

“Episode 5 is the best,” MJ piped up, not bothering to take her eyes off her book again. And just like that, an argument ensued. 

Once we’d come to the conclusion that episode five is in fact the best (MJ really did know how to prove a point), we continued to chat about random things that Peter or Ned came up with. I even laughed a few times at Ned’s constant enthusiasm and MJ’s perpetual lack of it. The two made an interesting pair.

When it was time to start heading to fifth period, MJ was the first to leave, offering a small wave before departing.  Ned was the next to go, rattling something about meeting Peter after school as he walked away. Peter called his assent and then it was just the two of us.

I stood up and said, “I’ll see you tonight.”

He nodded, but grabbed my wrist before I could leave. I instinctively flinched at the touch, making him immediately drop my arm. I wanted to apologize for reacting in that way, but he didn’t seem too offended. Actually, he had that concerned look on his face again.

“Please take this,” he said, handing me the other half of his sandwich. I started to shake my head, but he interrupted, “Please.”

I swallowed and finally took it from him, unable to meet his eyes for a moment. He saw too much.

“Rita.” I reluctantly looked up. His brown eyes were searching mine, seemingly looking for something in them.

“Thank you, Peter.” I’d hesitated for a moment, but then I’d gotten up the nerve to give his shoulder a quick squeeze before leaving.

Now, I flitted about my room with only forty-five minutes left before the party. My mother sat on the edge of my bed, only watching as I got ready. Before the...incident, I might’ve worn a cute but simple dress to the gathering, but the thought of walking outside of my apartment with that much skin showing was enough to make me want to puke. So I pulled on a pair of jeans and a baggy sweater, adding my black booties to the mix.

I was peering at myself in the mirror when I met my mother’s eyes in the reflection.

“You look gorgeous, as always,” she told me with a loving smile.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the smile that took over my lips. “You’re such a flatterer.”

“Of course I am, I’m a journalist⸺charisma is one of the requirements.” I rolled my eyes at her again and she chuckled at me, coming up behind me to brush a brown curl from my face.

“So, who’s this Peter?”

“Boy from school,” I replied simply.

“And who else will be going?”

“MJ, the girl I told you about the other day, and Peter’s best friend, Ned.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed. I made my way over to my bathroom and fetched my lip gloss and mascara, applying a light coat of each in front of the mirror.

“Alright, I’m ready.” I paused before adding the next part: “Would you mind walking me there?”

Her brows drew together in dubiety. “Any particular reason why? You always wander the city alone.”

“Yeah, I know...I was just wondering…” I stammered, trying to come up with a valid excuse that wouldn’t make her suspicious.

“No, it’s fine, I’m more than happy to walk with you. Besides, I only ever get off this early once in a blue moon,” she said with a smile.

“Yeah, speaking of work, how’s the project going?”

“I hope you’re not trying to pry for information again⸺you know we can’t say anything.” She gave me a sideways look and I saw the amused glint in her green eyes.

“Yes, I know,” I told her with an exasperated sigh. “But can’t you tell me what Tony Stark was like?” My mother looked taken aback at the question, so I went on. “Well, you said Dad was interviewing the CEO of Stark Industries the other day, right? I figured if he met Pepper Potts, then he might have met Tony Stark too.”

“Oh, Rita.” She sighed as we walked out the door of the apartment, taking the elevator down to the lobby. She seemed to deliberate for a moment before answering. “I managed to secure a phone call with Mr. Stark about a week ago and he’s very articulate. Rather funny, too.”

“You talked to Tony Stark a week ago and didn’t tell me?!” I gaped at her.

“Technically, I’m not supposed to be telling you at all,” she admitted.

“Still, though…” I muttered as we stepped out onto the street.

The walk to Peter’s apartment was mostly silent, considering I spent most of it examining everyone we walked past. I shied away from anyone that looked at me for more than a split second and kept an eye out for wandering hands.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” My mom asked. We finally stood outside of Peter’s building and I had been just about to say goodbye.

“Nothing, mom. I’ll see you in a few hours,” I said offhandedly.

“Alright, just text me when you’re ready to come home. I’ll meet you here.”

I nodded and hugged her before entering the building.

When I made it up to Peter’s apartment and knocked, a middle-aged woman was the one to answer the door. She was tall and slim with long brown hair and warm brown eyes, like Peter’s.

When she saw me, she smiled brightly and greeted, “Hi! I’m May! You must be Rita, it’s so nice to meet you.” With that, she pulled me into a hug.

For a moment, I was stunned by her spontaneous gesture of kindness, but I soon recovered and returned the embrace. I glimpsed Peter coming out of his room over May’s shoulder.

May let go and I gave her a genuine smile. “Nice to meet you too, May.”

“Hey, Rita, how’s it going?” Peter asked, coming up beside his aunt.

“Good.”

“You can come this way, Ned and MJ are in the other room,” he said, leading me across the kitchen. “Aunt May is gonna order some pizzas.” He shot her a look from where she was leaning against a counter, watching us.

“Oh, yes sir,” she mocked before walking over to the phone on the wall. I waved at her one last time before turning away. Ned was right⸺I liked her.

In the living room, MJ was sitting on the floor⸺right next to the couch. Ned sat across from her, but on the sofa.

“Sorry to be the late arriver,” I apologized.

“No, you’re not late,” Peter said. “Ned just came right after school and MJ...”

“I like to be early,” she finished for him. I took a seat next to her on the floor and Peter took the cushion adjacent to Ned. But as soon as he took a seat, he got back up to move the coffee table that sat between us. He shoved it out of the way and retrieved the monopoly box that sat on top.

He set it down on the carpet and joined MJ and me on the floor, Ned following suit and taking the lid off. The two boys went on to set up the board and arrange the pieces as MJ and I exchanged a look. One that said, How did we get here? Soon enough, she just shrugged and I let out a breathy laugh.

“What?” Peter asked, looking up at the sound.

“Nothing,” I replied, a small grin still playing about my lips.

“Like I said, we don’t have to play monopoly.”

“Just shut up and pick a piece, Peter,” MJ piped up, making me laugh again at her bluntness.

Peter raised his hands in mock surrender, but picked a piece as he had been directed⸺the racecar.

“Predictable,” MJ muttered and picked the shoe for herself. I took the dog, setting it on ‘go’, and Ned took the horse and jockey, looking rather pleased with his selection. I noticed how his cheeks nearly engulfed his eyes when he smiled.

“Who goes first?” I asked.

“We each have to roll and whoever gets the highest number goes first,” Ned explained. Peter took the dice first and rolled a two, scoffing at his ill luck. I couldn’t suppress my snicker and my smile only widened at the dirty look he gave me.

MJ rolled a six and I rolled an eight, but Ned trumped us all with a twelve. He cheered at his fortune and MJ rolled her eyes at him.

Ned took his turn and I found myself relaxing around all of them, the dynamic settling in as if it had existed all the while. Ned cheering and laughing, MJ muttering sarcastic comments, Peter making stupid jokes, and me⸺I’m not quite sure what I was doing.

We were about halfway into the game when things started to get competitive between Peter and me. Ned was just happy to be playing and didn’t really seem to care if he won or lost, while MJ didn’t purchase a single property throughout the entire game. I asked her if she knew how to play and she’d only told me: ‘I won’t give in to capitalistic temptations’⸺I laughed at that.

However, Peter and I were both quite eager to win. His shyness and awkwardness seemed to evaporate as the night wore on, replaced by focus and cutthroat ambition. Earlier on, he’d landed on Marvin Gardens, saw that I had the other two yellow properties and was just waiting to get that one so that I could put houses on, and proceeded to buy it.

He’d said, “Sorry,” with absolutely no remorse and handed the money to Ned, who had chosen to be the banker. I gaped at Peter in disbelief, but he just shot me an evil grin. That was the moment when I’d decided to destroy him.

But that was a hard thing to do in Monopoly, considering most all of it relied on the player’s luck. But the balance seemed to be tipping my way when I finally landed on Boardwalk and completed my blue collection, enabling me to slap a couple houses on (at the severe expense of my bank).

And then, luck must have really been on my side, because Peter landed on it.

“Would ya look at that?” I drawled sweetly, giving him a coy smile.

“Can’t believe my luck…” he muttered.

“There will be no talk of luck!” I exclaimed. “That is karma!”

He feigned a scowl and looked down at his pile of money with unspeakable sorrow. I figured he needed a reminder. “Fork it over, hotshot.”

Even he couldn’t keep the smile off his face as I eagerly took half of his fake money⸺I was much too excited about this.

“We better call it quits before Rita gets overexcited,” MJ said, a tiny laugh on her lips.

“Good idea,” Ned agreed. “Let’s see who won!” He started counting his money and I felt no small amount of satisfaction as I thumbed through my many bills, counting them just loud enough for Peter to hear.

I really needed to remind myself that this was just a game.

In the end, I beat Peter by $200, but he didn’t even come in second place. That title was reserved for MJ, who hadn’t spent one dollar for the entire game except when she had too. Peter came in third and Ned came in dead last, but Peter was much more affected by his failure⸺Ned just sighed and moved on, but Peter looked ready to mope for an hour. It made me smile.

“It’s alright, Peter, I’m sure you’re good at something,” I said with a fake pout.

“Oh shut up,” he laughed. I playfully shoved his shoulder and was surprised when he didn’t rock at all. He was a lot more solid than he looked...and I couldn’t help but wonder what was hiding under that t-shirt of his. I could see the lines of his shoulders, the curve of his biceps, but the rest was a mystery to me. I stared for a few more seconds before I realized that Peter was looking at me. I cleared my throat and met his gaze, trying and failing not to blush at the fact that I’d just been caught ogling him.

His cheeks were also flushed a bit, but he didn’t say anything. In fact, we both seemed to be frozen in place, just staring at each other.

“Pizza’s here! Come on!” MJ walked right between Peter and me, breaking whatever spell we’d been under. I cleared my throat again before following her, doing my best not to look at Peter again.

What had just happened?

[madness-of-madi]

Finding a Constant: Part Four

Word Count: 2,324

Main Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, and Amrita Delport (student at Midtown High)

Warnings: none, really. Just Peter being a dork. ;)

Setting: After Spider-Man: Homecoming, after Peter tells Tony Stark that he wants to postpone being an Avenger, but before Infinity War...obviously.  *muffled sobbing*

Summary: Amrita Delport has been moving around her whole life, but when her parents relocate to New York for some mysterious project, she is unexpectedly sucked into the life of Peter Parker, otherwise known as the neighborhood-friendly Spider-Man.

A/N: I just love writing in Peter’s POV. Doesn’t hurt to imagine Tom Holland playing the part...*swoon*

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Peter’s POV

I kept an eye out for her the whole day. Every hallway I walked down, I scrutinized every person I walked past; every room I entered, I scanned every student in the desks. But it wasn’t until lunch that I caught sight of her.

Rita was sitting in her usual spot, reading her usual book. MJ sat across from her, reading as well, but I caught her eyes flicking to Rita every few seconds⸺was it concern or suspicion that gleamed in them? MJ had always been unnervingly observant and Rita was no exception to this. MJ could tell something was off with her. Firstly, she hadn’t gotten any food to eat. Secondly⸺

“Hey, Peter,” Ned interrupted my inspection.

“Hey, man.” I sat next to him and put my tray down in front of me, my eyes still skating to Rita and MJ.

“So did you find anything last night?” Ned whispered to me. Even though his voice was low enough that I knew no one could hear him, I gave him a look that told him later. I was mostly certain Rita had no idea who the Spider-Man was⸺after all, she hadn't even spared me one glance all day⸺but that didn’t mean I wanted to take any risks. In addition, it didn’t feel right to tell Ned I’d caught a near-rapist when the victim was sitting only a few feet away.

Ned gave me a quizzical look, but dropped it. “What about the physics homework? Did you get that one problem?”

“Uh yeah,” I responded, retrieving the papers from my backpack. I slid them over to him so he could see my work and I probably would’ve explained as well, but I was too busy examining Rita across the table.

Her brown hair was pulled up into a bun on top of her head and though I normally didn't notice such things, I could tell she wasn't wearing as much makeup as she usually did. She looked bare-faced, as opposed to her normal mascara and lip gloss pairing. Her green eyes had dark circles under them and I knew she hadn't gotten much sleep last night. I wanted to ask her if she was ok, but I knew that would be odd, considering I’d only said hi to her for the first time yesterday⸺as Peter.

She must have felt my not-so-discreet stare on her, because she parted from her book for a moment to give me a questioning look. I awkwardly waved before quickly moving my gaze back to the homework Ned was studying.

But I still couldn't focus on physics. I remembered the last time I’d been caught staring at someone⸺that someone had been Liz. It was painful to think about her and all of the things I put her through. Thanks to me, her father was in prison and her mother moved her away to Oregon. Even though I knew I hadn’t been the cause of her father’s illegal activity, I couldn’t help but feel responsible for Liz’s sadness. All I could do was hope that she was doing better in Oregon, that she found someone that deserved her, unlike me. I’d let her down too many times and I’d never stop regretting it.

“Peter!” Ned’s voice made me jump a bit. “Peter, I asked you a question. What’s up with you? You’re even more distracted than usual.”

“I’m fine.” At his disbelieving look, I hurriedly added in a whisper, “I’ll tell you later.” He looked a bit giddy, already assuming it had something to do with my crime-fighting excursions.

“How’s it going?” I recognized MJ’s voice. She was peering over her book at Rita, who actually paused her reading.

“Fine,” Rita said with a strained smile. “You?”

“Wonderful,” MJ responded in her normal dry tone. But she didn’t immediately turn her attention back to her reading, as I expected her to. Rita noticed this as well and awkwardly shifted her gaze back to her book, trying to evade further conversation. But that didn’t stop MJ. “You’re not fine, are you.” It was more a statement than a question.

After a moment, Rita met her stare again, but said nothing. MJ said, “It’s alright⸺I’m not going to pry.” Rita nodded appreciatively and returned to her book, MJ doing the same this time.

My heart ached for Rita. She’d done nothing to deserve what had happened to her last night, but that didn’t seem to stop all of the predators out there. After all, no woman deserved to be raped.

I turned back to Ned and explained the physics problem, to which he quickly caught on. For the rest of lunch, I did my best to keep my focus on Ned and not Rita, but I wasn’t completely successful.

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When English class finally came around, she seemed just the same: distant and far away. Not that she usually socialized or, in fact, said anything without being prompted, but she normally at least pretended to pay attention. She made no such effort during today’s class.

As a result, I wasn’t surprised when Mrs. Han asked her to stay after the bell again. And, just like last time, I felt slightly guilty about staying behind to eavesdrop, but I was simply too curious not to.

“I thought you said you were going to try harder, Rita,” was Mrs. Han’s opening line. She never was one to beat around the bush.

“I know. I’m really sorry.” She couldn’t meet the old woman’s eyes. Her gaze skipped over the blackboard distractedly, reading the words as if she suddenly cared what the lesson had been about. 

Mrs. Han scrutinized her for a few seconds before saying, “Do you need help, Rita?”

“No, I’m fine.” Her voice was quiet and I had to strain my ears to hear.

Another moment of silence transpired. Then, “Just let me know when you’re ready to talk.” Rita looked up at the woman’s words and she nodded before turning away with a wave.

I finished gathering my things and took my leave as well, bidding Mrs. Han goodbye. I walked out the door and turned the corner⸺crashing right into a waiting Rita. She stumbled a bit, but I quickly caught her shoulder to keep her from bumping into the person behind her. 

I couldn’t help but feel another twinge in my heart as she flinched at the touch. I removed my hand from her shoulder as soon as she stopped swaying and took a step backwards, muttering, “Oh, I’m so sorry, Rita, I didn’t see you there⸺”

“Save it, Peter,” Rita interrupted. “I just wanted to ask you what you find so interesting about my conversations with Mrs. Han.” She raised her eyebrows expectantly. 

I blinked a few times, opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water. I might’ve spouted some bullshit about gathering my things had there not been a shrewd glint in her green eyes. Something told me she’d see right through the excuse.

“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice how slowly you put your books in your bag?” There was a hint of a grin playing on her lips, but it only increased my embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I’m just sort of⸺” I sputtered, unable to finish the sentence. Worried about you, I had been about to say.

“What, Peter?” Rita implored, still smiling a bit.

I swallowed nervously. “Nothing, I’m just sorry.”

She huffed a laugh and said, “It’s fine. You just might want to work on your spying skills.”

“I wasn’t spying!” I countered indignantly, but there was still a anxious waver in my voice.

“Oh, yeah? What else would you call it?” She searched my expression as I struggled to come up with an answer.

“Studiously observing?” I speculated.

“That’s just a euphemism, Peter.” She burst out laughing and I couldn’t help but join in. I felt relieved that she wasn’t angry with me or creeped out. 

When the laughter died out, I blurted, “Hey, Rita, would you want to come to a party tomorrow night?”

“What party?” she inquired.

Good question⸺what party Peter?! I cursed my impulsiveness before rambling, “Um, well, I’m having a few friends over tomorrow night, and I was just wondering if you wanted to come⸺being the new kid and everything. We’re gonna,” I hesitated, stabbing in the dark for something cool to say. “Play monopoly.”

I nearly punched myself.

She chuckled and seemed to consider. “Sure,” she finally agreed.

“Really?” I exclaimed, trying and failing not to sound too surprised.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Alright, I’ll text you the details tonight.” I realized my mistake a second too late.

But she didn’t hesitate to grab a sharpie from her backpack side pocket and reach for my arm. “May I?” I nodded hurriedly and she scribbled her phone number on the inside of my arm. 

“Thanks,” I said once she was done.

“No problem,” she replied. “I’ll talk to you later then?”

“Yeah, definitely.” She gave one last wave before turning to walk the other way. For a moment, I just stood there, unbelieving at what I’d just done. Thanks to my stupidity, I was going to have to plan a party and get actual people to come to it.

“Hey, Peter.” Ned appeared beside me.

“Oh thank God, Ned you’ll never believe what I just did.” I quickly explained the situation to him, cringing when I told him about what I said we’d be doing.

“Oh, awesome! I love Monopoly!” Ned rejoiced. At my sour look, he quickly continued, “But yeah, you probably could’ve said something a little less lame.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I was honestly just surprised that she agreed to come.” It still didn’t quite make sense in my head. Perhaps after what happened last night she wants to distract herself…

“Who else are you going to invite?” Ned asked.

“I have absolutely no idea,” I admitted with a frustrated sigh.

“We could probably get MJ to come.”

“Doubtful, but I’ll text her tonight.”

“Are we having it at your apartment then?” Ned brought up a good point.

“Yeah, I suppose, but I’ll have to check with Aunt May.”

“Cool.” Ned said. I was just about to say goodbye when he blurted, “What was that thing you were gonna tell me at lunch?”

“Oh,” I stammered. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Come on, Peter. If I’m gonna be your guy-in-the-chair, you need to give me all of the details.”

I gave him a look that said he certainly was not my guy-in-the-chair, but went on anyway. “Well, I caught a guy in an alley. He was assaulting this woman,” I finished, unable to reveal who the woman was. That was Rita’s secret to tell, not mine.

“Woah, dude, you really are a superhero!” He clapped me on the back, and I huffed a laugh at him.

“Well, I gotta go now. I’ll talk to you later, Ned.”

See ya!” he called after me as I made my way out of the door.

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Three hours later, I was sitting in front of Aunt May at the kitchen table. Just minutes before, I’d been scouring the city for crime as Spider-Man, but I’d found nothing of significance. So I changed clothes and decided to go home to break the news of the party to Aunt May.

“What is it that you wanted to ask me?” Her voice was polite and warm, as it always was.

I straightened in my seat. “I was just wondering if I could have a few friends over tomorrow night.”

“A few?” she asked, attempting to sound as if she wasn’t surprised. As far as she knew, Ned was my only friend. Which is true, my brain mocked me.

“Yeah, there’s this new girl, Rita, and probably MJ too.”

“Rita, huh?” There was a sly glint in her eyes that told me exactly what was coming next. “Is she pretty?”

“Aunt May, come on!” I groaned, my cheeks going red from embarrassment.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she laughed as I blushed even more. Finally she got up and began searching the fridge for food, putting me out of my misery.

“What you want for dinner?”

“I dunno,” I answered, taking out my phone to text MJ. How does one invite MJ to a party?

“Thai it is, then. I’ll order now,” Aunt May sighed⸺she never really was one for cooking.

I nodded my confirmation and pulled up MJ in my contacts. Before I could sit there and make it much more difficult than it needed to be, I typed out a quick text.

Do you want to come to my place tomorrow night? Rita and Ned are coming and we are gonna play monopoly.

I cringed at the last part, but hit send anyway. We’d become closer ever since the academic decathlon, but she was still probably going to be caught off guard by the invitation.

After a few more minutes of staring at the text, I got up and slid my phone in the back pocket of my jeans. I made a beeline for my room, hoping to finish some homework before the food came.

Halfway through my physics homework, my phone buzzed against my butt and I jumped a bit at the sudden vibration. There was a text from MJ:

Address? Time?

I huffed at her curtness and tapped out a reply. Then I glanced at my arm, remembering I had to text Rita as well.

MJ and Ned are coming around 5. Does that work for you?

It’s Peter by the way.

Parker.

I cursed myself for my awkwardness for the second time that day. I was about to put my phone away again when it pinged, notifying me of Rita’s response.

Sounds good. Where exactly am I going?

I sent her my address as well.

I’ll be there. ;)

I blinked at the winky face and felt my cheeks warm up. Running my fingers through my hair, I attempted to focus on my homework again. Attempt being the key word.

[madness-of-madi]

@all of the uncivilized barbarians that think this is ok. IT'S NOT.

Friend who folds the book page instead of using a bookmark:  “How come you never let me borrow your books??”

Me:

[madness-of-madi]

COME BACK MY BABIES.

[madness-of-madi]

This is a masterpiece. 😂

[madness-of-madi]

Finding a Constant: Part Three

Word count: 2,399

Main Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, and Amrita Delport (student at Midtown High)

Setting: After Spider-Man: Homecoming, after Peter tells Tony Stark that he wants to postpone being an Avenger, but before Infinity War...obviously.  *muffled sobbing*

Warnings: attempted rape, slightly graphic; PTSD

Summary: Amrita Delport has been moving around her whole life, but when her parents relocate to New York for some mysterious project, she is unexpectedly sucked into the life of Peter Parker, otherwise known as the neighborhood-friendly Spider-Man.

A/N: This was definitely a painful chapter to write, but there was no avoiding it. It's the harsh reality of the world. 😞

...................................................................................

Amrita's POV

Even though the only thing in my line of sight was the pavement below, I was seeing much more. The images kept replaying in my mind, torturing me. Flashes of hungry black eyes, rough, dirty hands scraping against my skin, a scratchy beard irritating my face as he whispered in my ear what he was going to do with me.

    It was like he had simply materialized out of thin air, shrugging out of the shadows in the alley. I'd only chosen the path as a shortcut to the library and I had assured myself that I would be returning to the busy streets in just a couple blocks. But that never happened.

    When I caught sight of him and the way he was looking me up and down, I walked faster and opened the pocket with the pepper spray inside of it. But before I'd even had a chance to react, he'd jumped at me and pinned me against the wall with his body. I had let out a yelp as my hand was jerked away from my only defense and his body pressed up against mine. He leaned in until I could feel his hot, sour breath against the shell of my ear.

    “Where do you think you're going, little lady?” His raspy voice chilled me to my bones and I screamed again, but that didn't seem to faze him. He only continued. “Won't you stay with me? I'll treat you real nice.” He lifted the hem of my shirt and I felt his palm slide up my midsection. With one swift motion, he tore my shirt in two, baring my chest for him to see. Tears started to blur my eyes as I yelled yet again. But no one could hear me, not here.

    “Please,” I whimpered. I tried to push him off me, but he was just too strong. “Please don't hurt me.”

    “Aw, no need to worry about that, little lady. I'll be real gentle…” I let my hand drift to my bag as he spoke, but didn't dare look in fear of giving myself away. I could feel my tears start to spill over the edge and trail down my cheeks and I screamed one last time in hope that someone, anyone would help me.

    “You’re gonna have to cut that out, little—” He was cut off by a red-gloved finger tapping his shoulder. I had felt his body go rigid right before he whirled around to face the other person.

    Beyond that, I could only remember bits and pieces. In my momentary lapse in sanity, I could vaguely recall my arm around his throat, my pepper spray can rattling his skull, a hand around my wrist.

    That's when I had realized Spider-Man was there. But now he was gone and I was alone in the alley once again. The man that had tried to…tried to rape me—the word scathed my mind—was lying a few feet away, unconscious. Even though I knew he wasn't going to be getting up anytime soon, I edged away from him and returned my head to its place between my knees.

    My vision went blurry as tears welled up in my eyes again. I couldn't stop them and I didn't even think I wanted to. For years, I'd been walking around alone in unfamiliar cities and I'd never once been attacked. I'd had people follow me or give me odd looks, but I'd always managed to get away unharmed. Not this time, though, not this time.

    I nearly jumped out of my own shoes when I heard feet slapping against the ground, but it was only Spider-Man. I visibly relaxed at the sight of him and slumped back against the bricks. He stopped in front of me, looking a bit unsure.

    For a moment I was confused, but then I realized that I had forgotten to hold my shirt closed when I leaned back. I hastily grabbed the pieces to cover myself, but he wasn't looking anyway. He was pointedly looking at the wall above my head, which I greatly appreciated.

    “Here's your shirt,” he said, proffering a plastic bag. I took it with a nod of gratitude and retrieved the t-shirt from inside. It was white with a large depiction of a leaping Spider-Man on the front. Even though I was still rather shaken, I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at him.

    He might have been wearing a mask, but I could easily tell he was grinning behind it. “First one I saw,” he lied.

    I gave him a look that said, Yeah, sure. His smile widened before he turned around, giving me some privacy. I slipped the ripped pieces of material off my body and threw on the shirt in their place. When I was done, I said, “I’m good.”

    Spider-Man pivoted back around to face me and said, “I’ll walk you home.” There was something about his voice that sparked something in my mind...but I couldn’t discern what it was.

    “What about him?” I nodded towards the pig on the ground, knowing my face was draining of color as I looked at him. Spider-Man held out his hands and webs flew out of them before my eyes. I could only gape as they secured the man’s wrists and ankles to the concrete.

    “He won’t be going anywhere. I’ll get the police over here as soon as you’re home.” I nodded, swallowing. For a few seconds, I couldn’t pry my eyes off of the man. I almost wanted to hurt him some more, to show him that I wasn’t so easily taken advantage like he had assumed. I wanted to kick his ribs until they cracked, punch his face until the bones splintered, scream at him until his ears bled—

    “Are you okay, Rita?” Spider-Man asked softly, snapping me out of my rage-filled reverie. I listlessly nodded before turning around to start off towards home. I expected to hear Spider-Man’s footsteps behind me, but I didn’t. When I looked back to ask him if he was coming, he was crawling up the side of the building. He must have seen me pause, because he quickly explained himself.

    “I’ll follow you from the rooftops.” He gestured upwards with a hand and I marvelled at the way he didn’t sway at all. He was sticking to the wall.

    “Won’t people see you up there too?” I questioned.

    “You’d be surprised by how rarely people look up.” I saw the cut of his grin again before he continued his ascent.

    All the way home, I couldn’t stop myself from nervously glancing at every passerby, giving all of them wide berths. I also couldn’t help but glance up at the rooftops every few minutes. Every time, Spider-Man would give me a thumbs-up and continue hopping from roof to roof.

    Soon, I reached my apartment building, but I hesitated at the door leading to the lobby. I looked up to see Spider-Man perched on the top of my building, just peering over the edge at me.

    I mouthed the words thank you before pushing open the door. I wanted to do more to express my gratitude, but I had a strange feeling I’d be seeing him again.

Stepping across the threshold, the last I saw of him was a brief wave of his hand. As per usual, the tiny lobby was void of people and furnishing—it was merely an entryway used to house the elevator, which was set into the back wall. I entered and pushed the button that correlated to the fourth floor. The ride up was silent, but not pleasantly so. The absence of sound was more deafening than any loud noise could have been—it pressed down on me, suffocating me.

My knees buckled and I fell to the metal floor. Now that Spider-Man was gone, the horrid memories of what had happened were creeping back to the forefront of my mind, causing my breathing to hitch and my vision to blur. Phantom hands ran their ghostly fingers over my torso. The false sensations sparked uncontrollable shivers and soon my palms hit the ground in an attempt to steady my trembling body.

The man hadn't had the chance to really do anything, and I was eternally grateful for that fact, but that didn't stop the fear and disgust roaring in my head. I tried to focus on my breathing, normalizing the inhales and exhales until my muscles finally stopped shaking.

The elevator dinged and broke the silence that had overwhelmed me. Slowly, I got to my feet and dragged myself to my door. Beyond it, I could just barely hear my parents’ voices, the sharp clang of metal on metal, and quiet music humming in the background. I took a deep, steady breath.

One thing I knew for sure: I wasn’t going to tell my parents about any of it. They’d demand that we find the man and make sure he ends up in jail, but I was sure that Spider-Man was going to take care of that. In addition, they’d never let me leave the house alone again—not that I wanted to anymore, but I wasn’t ready to relinquish that freedom.

While those reasons were certainly true, there was one that overtook them all: I simply didn’t want to talk about it. Speaking the words aloud would mean I had to relive the entire thing once again, and my brain really didn't need assistance with that. It was doing a stellar job on its own.

I wiped my face with a hand and smoothed my frizzy brown hair. I just had to hope my eyes wouldn’t give away the fact that I’d been crying. After a second, I finally twisted the knob and walked in.

My mom was still crisscrossing the kitchen, preparing what appeared to be spaghetti. Dad stood there as well, idly stirring tomato sauce in one of the pots on the stove. At the sound of my arrival, they both turned in surprise.

“Hey, sweetie,” my dad greeted. He put down the spoon and pulled me into a hug. For reasons unbeknownst to me, this nearly triggered another mental breakdown, but at the last second, I managed to stave it off.

“We didn't think you’d be home for another hour or so, Rita honey,” Mom called from her post in front of the refrigerator.

“I decided to come home early,” I replied. My voice came out hoarse and dry, but I quickly covered it up by clearing my throat. Before they could notice my wardrobe change or the way I was avoiding their gazes, I added, “I’m going to go change. I’ll be back.”

I closed my bedroom door behind me and sighed in relief, thankful that they hadn’t suspected anything to be wrong. I shrugged off my jeans and boots, throwing the pants in my laundry basket and the shoes into my small closet. The Spider-Man shirt, however, I carefully laid out on my blue comforter. Looking at it almost made me feel better.

As soon as I shucked the rest of my clothes off, I knew I needed a shower to wash away the man’s repulsive touch. Once in the cramped adjoining bathroom, I spent half an hour vigorously scrubbing my skin under the hot water, refusing to stop until the surface was pink and tingling. Only then did I feel clean.

I dried off and wrapped my hair in a towel on top of my head. Stopping in front of the mirror, I took in my haggard appearance. My eyes were just as vibrant and green as usual, but they seemed lifeless to me. The lips that had once been full and soft-looking this morning, now looked cracked and pale. There was one stray strand of wet, dark hair hanging in front of my face, so I swept it away. After another moment, I finally pulled myself away from my own reflection.

I threw on a pair of sleep shorts and the Spider-Man t-shirt. I fiddled with the material and thought of the person who’d given it to me. I didn't think there was any way I could ever possibly repay him for what he did for me. He spared me the trauma of being raped and perhaps murdered. Who knows what the man would’ve done after he finished with me?

I let go of the shirt and returned to the kitchen. Mom was pouring the pasta into a strainer and dad was setting the table. He smiled when he saw me and while I did my best to return it, I had no doubt it looked more like a grimace.

“Have a seat, Rita. I’ll make you a plate,” he offered. I muttered my thanks and watched as my parents moved around the kitchen. They always worked in such perfect harmony, seemingly knowing what the other was going to do before they did it. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that they spent nearly every moment with one another—at work, at home, and otherwise. And yet they never seemed to tire of each other. The only time I ever saw them fight was when they were squabbling about which title was more apt for the article they’d just written. It was quite comical, actually.

“Is that shirt new?” My mother asked once they were both settled at the table, steaming plates of spaghetti in front of everyone.

“Oh yeah,” I scrambled for an explanation. “I went to Chinatown and one of the vendors sold it to me. You know how persuasive they can be.”

“I like it,” she told me with a smile. I dug into my food in order to avoid having to continue the conversation.

“So how’s school?” My father began. I nonchalantly told him the same things I’d told mom earlier, and he nodded along.

The rest of dinner was largely uneventful. My parents carried out their nightly interrogation as they usually did and I managed to answer everything without hinting at my horrible experience and the somber mood it had caused. Afterwards, they began talking about their big project and I tuned them out. Normally, I would’ve eagerly absorbed every cryptic word they uttered and tried to connect them to my outlandish theories, but I didn't feel like it.

In fact, I didn't feel like doing much of anything.

[madness-of-madi]

Surely nothing could possibly be worse than Infinity War. The minute that was released, I think we all knew shit was about to go down. I suggest Lovely, Peaceful Reunion for the next one.

Avengers 4 title, and Captain Marvel’s first trailer to be revealed next week. Panic mode ACTIVATED!

[madness-of-madi]

Thor getting his cape out from the dryer, only to realize that it's been shrunk down to a quarter of its original size. He's screaming at the machine, demanding retribution for its crimes. Tony peeks around the corner to snap a picture of Thor in his wrinkled cape that looks like a part of some 8 year-old's Halloween costume.

I vote Yes for the sitcom. 😆

[madness-of-madi]

Finding a Constant: Part Two

Word Count: 2,070

Main Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, and Amrita Delport (student at Midtown High)

Warnings: attempted rape, not graphic; some PTSD

Setting: After Spider-Man: Homecoming, after Peter tells Tony Stark that he wants to postpone being an Avenger, but before Infinity War...obviously.  *muffled sobbing*

Summary: Amrita Delport has been moving around her whole life, but when her parents relocate to New York for some mysterious project, she is unexpectedly sucked into the life of Peter Parker, otherwise known as the neighborhood-friendly Spider-Man.

A/N: Please look at the warnings before reading. Thanks!

...................................................................................

Peter's POV

    I would be lying if I said it truly took me that long to slide a few books into my backpack. As I picked up each item, I’d fiddle with it or flip through the pages before carefully placing it in the bag, organizing things as I went⸺very slowly. Amrita was standing at Mrs. Han’s desk and I was doing my absolute best to look as if I wasn’t eavesdropping.

    “Even so, Miss Delport, you might find some of my points to be quite interesting…” Mrs. Han was saying. “And quite helpful for the upcoming test.”

    I discreetly looked over to see Amrita smile and nod before saying, “I understand, Mrs. Han. I'll do better.” Mrs. Han raised her nearly-invisible eyebrows, so Amrita added, “I promise.”

    Mrs. Han beamed at her.  “Alright, go on then,” she dismissed her. I quickly brought my gaze back to my books as Amrita waved and turned. Right before she walked out the door, I thought I saw her pause in my peripheral vision. But then she left.

    I zipped up my bag and threw it over my shoulders. “See ya, Mrs. Han.”

    “Goodbye, Peter,” she called as I made my way out of the classroom. Once in the hallway, Ned caught up with me and jostled my shoulder with his own.

    “Hey, Peter,” he greeted. “Where ya headin’?”

    “I dunno, Ned, I’ll probably just walk around and see if I can find…” I trailed off, not sure how to word it.

    “Crime?” Ned asked enthusiastically. “Are you gonna go fight crime? I can come with if you need some surveillance or back-up or⸺”

    “No, Ned,” I cut him off. “I’ll be fine, and I’ll just see you tomorrow, yeah?” I didn’t mean to sound so...condescending and callous, but I couldn’t put him in harm’s way. I would always be grateful for his help...that night, but I couldn’t put his life at risk. My priorities would always be the same: keep Ned and Aunt May safe.

    “Come on, Peter. I really think I can help you out! You need a guy-in-the-chair!” He gave me a pleading look, but I only shook my head at him.

    “Look, man. Just go home, and I’ll talk to you later.” I patted his shoulder and offered him a brief smile before turning and walking towards the front door.

    “Alright, see ya later, Peter!” he called from behind me. There was a dejected undertone to his voice that I tried and failed to ignore.

    I navigated the teeming cluster that was funneling through the doors and managed to make it out in one piece. The second I broke away from the crowd, I took off in the direction of the alley I normally swung by to change into my suit.

    I flung my backpack to the ground and pulled my spider-suit out of it. I stripped, discarding my clothes on the ground next to my backpack, and shrugged the suit on, the high-quality material hanging off my thin frame awkwardly. I pressed the spider emblem on my chest and the suit immediately form-fitted to my body.

    “Good afternoon, Peter,” Karen’s voice came from inside my mask.

    “Hey, Karen! Ready to go kick some criminal a—” She cut me off before I could finish.

    “I should warn you that my language protocol dictates that I shock you at the use of any unsavory words.”

    “Of course Mr. Stark installed a language protocol,” I muttered to myself. “Let's go, Karen.”

    Grabbing my backpack from the ground once again, I stuffed my school clothes into it and threw it over my shoulders again. I leaped at the wall next to me, my feet coming into contact with the bricks and sticking. I sprinted up the side of the building and vaulted onto the roof. It was instinct now, scaling walls and jumping hurdles, but I could remember a time when it wasn't so simple. I'd stumbled, tripped, and fell all over the place just like anyone else. Being able to move like I could now still took me by surprise sometimes, giving me an inexplicable thrill. It coursed through my veins and pounded in my ears, begging to find release through movement.

              I returned my attention to the present long enough to throw my bag down by a large air conditioning unit. I used to leave it down in the alley, hidden in the dumpster, but I’d quickly learned my lesson when it had been stolen. That had been the night Ned had discovered my secret identity. Most of the time I wished he hadn't been there to witness me crawling on the ceiling, but I couldn't deny the relief it gave me to not have to hide it from everyone anymore. I knew that was selfish though. Ned being aware of that sort of fragile information could get him killed—which was exactly why I tried to keep him out of it all.

    “You're doing the right thing, Peter,” Karen interrupted my reverie. She knew about the Ned situation because I'd talked with her about it before, but sometimes I swore she could read my mind. How else could she know that I was dwelling on the subject right now?

    “Thanks, Karen,” I responded before pushing the thoughts aside and sprinting to the edge of the roof. I jumped across the space separating the roof and the next building over. Clutching at the walls with my fingers and toes, I began my ascent and made it to the top in no time. This building was much larger than the one before it. I took in the view of countless brick buildings and, farther away, steel skyscrapers. Once I decided where I wanted to go, I hopped off the side and let my instinct take over. My hands shot webs of their own accord and I grasped them, using them to swing from building to building. It was freeing.

    I was flying through the air over an alleyway when my senses started to tingle. Instead of propelling myself up onto the roof like I'd planned, I intentionally collided into the brick wall and perched there. Not a second later, a scream pierced my ears. I moved silently along the wall, heading in the direction of the outcry.

    Peering around the corner of the building, I located the source. There was a small brown-haired girl struggling with a much larger man, who was gripping her by the shoulders and pushing her up against the bricks. I saw one of his hands go up her shirt and though the woman tried to stop him, his strength overwhelmed hers. With one fist, she attempted to fight him off while her other was frantically patting the bag at her side. But the man paid no attention to either of them as he tore her shirt in half with his bare hands, eliciting another scream from her.

    “Would you like to activate instant-kill m—”

    “No, Karen!” I hissed. I heard the girl yell once again and I didn't hesitate any longer.

    Springing off the wall, I landed in a crouch behind the man. My arrival remained unheard and unseen, so I straightened and tapped the man on the shoulder. I could see him jump a bit in shock before he whirled around to face me. Without a second thought, I punched him in the face as hard as I could, sending him reeling and colliding with the girl behind him. She surprised me by wrapping an arm around his throat and pulling herself onto his back. As soon as her face appeared over his shoulder, I froze. Even though her expression was pinched in concentration as she cut of the man's airway, I recognized her.

    The man almost regained his composure and might have thrown her off if he had, but she didn't give him the chance. Her other hand appeared in front of his face with a small bottle clutched between her fingers. She pulled the trigger and pepper spray erupted from the container. The man howled—as best as he could with her arm still wrapped around his windpipe—and brought one hand up to protect his skull from the metal bottle, which she had begun to beat him over the head with. His other hand was attempting to pry her death grip off his neck.

    Finally, I snapped out of my frozen state and grabbed her wrist, pausing the bottle’s descent to the man's skull. She looked up in horror, as if this was the first time she'd realized I was there. The man used her moment of distraction to shake her off and she fell to the ground. Before he could make another move, webs shot from my hands and shrouded his face, effectively blinding him. I aimed a punch at his ribs and finally he fell to the ground with a heavy thud. He must have hit his head as well, because he instantly grew silent and still.

    I knelt down and felt his pulse—he was only unconscious. I sighed a breath of relief and looked to the girl. The girl that was Amrita. Her brown hair that had been up in a neat bun earlier today was now falling around her face in disarray. The wild, desperate look in her green eyes from before had been replaced by one of wariness and terror. She was leaning up against the wall, panting and clutching at the two halves of her shirt, trying to cover herself. I refrained from scanning her body for injuries, knowing that she could misinterpret my scrutiny for a hungry leer. Thinking about what that man had tried to do made my blood boil.

    “Miss? Are you ok?” Amrita flinched when I spoke, but didn't answer. I took a step closer in a crouch, but she immediately scrambled to get away. I put my hands up in the air to convey that I meant her no harm, but that didn't seem to calm her either—every nerve appeared to be on end, her eyes darting around the alley as if looking for another attacker.

    “Miss, it's alright. You're safe now,” I assured her in what I hoped was a quiet, soothing voice. After one more sweep of the alley, Amrita slumped against the wall, the tension bleeding out of her bones. I took another cautious step and when she didn't move, I got closer. I was about to place a hand on her shoulder, but thought better of it. She wouldn't want to be touched right now.

    She lifted her head to look at me and for a panicked moment I thought she could see right through the mask. But I was just being paranoid. “Thank you,” she breathed.

    You did most of the work, I thought to myself. I might've told her as much had she not been in such a delicate state. Instead, I just nodded.

    “What's your name, Miss?” I had to keep up pretenses that I'd never met her before. My only vulnerability was my voice—I was keeping it quiet and husky so that it didn't carry its usual pitch. I just had to hope she wouldn't recognize it.

    She looked at me for a few moments, slowly processing my words. “Amrita,” she finally answered. “Amrita Delport. And you're Spider-Man.” It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. “Thank you,” she repeated.

    “Amrita—”

    “Rita,” she interjected.

    “Ok, Rita, I'm going to go get you a new shirt. Just stay right where you are.” She gave me a fearful look, bringing her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around them. I couldn't blame her for not wanting to be left alone, but I couldn't walk her home shirtless. “I'll only be a couple minutes, Rita. I'll be as quick as possible, I promise.” I waited for her to nod again before I took off down the alley.

    “The nearest location selling clothes is approximately one minute away,” Karen informed me, also rattling off an address. I absorbed the information and plotted a path in my head.

    Right before I rounded the corner, I casted a look back at Amrita to make sure she was alright. She had put her head down between her knees and I could see her gently rocking back and forth.  This was the first time I regretted not bringing Ned—at least she wouldn't have had to sit there all alone.

[madness-of-madi]

I want to see Thor riding around on a ginormous cat. No, not some glorious tiger or ferocious lion, but like an overgrown tabby cat. Named Muffin.

Thor (2011) - dir. Kenneth Branagh

[madness-of-madi]

Back when Natasha was still Natalie Rushman. 😆

Iron Man 2 (2010) dir. Jon Favreau

[madness-of-madi]

Prepare yourself for the mindfuck of a century. It’s Filch having a conversation with Lord Elrond/Agent Smith (take your pick) in the MCU—Captain America: The First Avenger, to be specific.

And yeah, I managed to take the picture right in the middle of the transition. 😎

P.S. Is that not the Filchiest face you ever did see?!?

[madness-of-madi]

Who did this and where do they live?! 😭😂😭

F U C K

[madness-of-madi]

Love this, @saturnphasing

“There was an idea, Stark knows this. The idea was to bring together a remarkable group of people, see if they could become something more. See if they could come together when we needed them to, to fight the battles we never could.” - Nick Fury

[madness-of-madi]

We gonna need a whole lotta liquor up in this joint. 😬

[madness-of-madi]

Finding a Constant: Part One

Word Count: 2,914

Main Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, and Amrita Delport (student at Midtown High)

Warnings: None

Setting: After Spider-Man: Homecoming, after Peter tells Tony Stark that he wants to postpone being an Avenger, but before Infinity War...obviously.  *muffled sobbing* 

Summary: Amrita Delport has been moving around her whole life, but when her parents relocate to New York for some mysterious project, she is unexpectedly sucked into the life of Peter Parker, otherwise known as the neighborhood-friendly Spider-Man. 

A/N: This is my first fanfiction, but I just really needed an outlet for my Marvel obsession, so here it is. Enjoy! ;)

................................................................................................................................

Amrita’s POV

School lunch had been the bane of my existence for a long time. Given that my parents moved at least twice a year, dragging me along with them, I never stayed at a school long enough to make close friends. Or if I did, I'd have to leave them behind in a few short months. So what was the point? I'd learned early on that it wasn't worth it; I could stop the vicious cycle by simply not being a part of it. But that meant that lunch was always hell on Earth for me.

I scanned the room for my normal seat, spotting the mostly empty table in the back. I began making my way through the throng of rowdy teenagers, narrowly avoiding an apple that sailed in my direction. Another student leaped up and caught it near my head.

“Sorry,” he said, not looking very contrite. I pursed my lips in acknowledgment and continued walking. While Midtown High was pretty large, it was by no means the biggest school I'd ever gone to. That title belonged to a school in California, one that I had been all too happy to leave behind.

Finally, I reached my seat at the end of a long table. I sat down with my lunch tray, doing my best to ignore the two boys sitting at the other end of the table. Every once in awhile, I'd catch one of them looking at me or speaking in hushed tones about me, but other than that, they normally just left me alone. Which I preferred.

There was one girl that sat right across from, with her nose in a book. Her messy brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, but half of it always fell out and shrouded part of her face. I recalled my first day here when I stumbled around the cafeteria looking for the table with the most vacant spots. I'd found this one, but both ends had been occupied like they were now. I'd taken one look at the chatting boys on one end and the silent girl on the other and chose wisely.

I began nibbling at my pizza, pulling a book out of my bag. I remembered at my last school, the smallish one in Ohio, they'd allowed the students to go off campus for lunch and I hadn't had to deal with any of this. I'd grab something from the lunch line and escape to one of the empty park benches outside. But no such luck here.

“Wuthering Heights, huh?” I jumped a bit at the voice—in the two weeks I'd been sitting across from her, the girl had never spoken a word. She'd nod at me on occasion, but never actually talk. Her voice was slightly deeper than I'd imagined.

“Yeah,” I answered once I'd overcome my shock. I'd read it before at one of my other schools, but Mrs. Han was expecting an essay on it within the week, so I was rereading it to prepare. But I didn't mind too much, considering Wuthering Heights was one of the classics that I sort of enjoyed reading.

She nodded, going back to the book in front of her. “What's Half the Sky?” I questioned on a whim. I suppose I wouldn't mind being on speaking terms with someone in this school.

She peered over the top of the pages and said, “It's a journalistic piece about the struggles women face around the world...ya know, sex trafficking, unequal opportunities, and the like.”

I raised my eyebrows at her. “Sounds interesting. Mind if I borrow it after you're done?”

She seemed to assess me as if checking if I was worthy of the book. Finally, she nodded. “My name's Michelle Jones, but my friends call me MJ,” she introduced herself. I shook her proffered hand, giving her a small smile as well.

“Nice to meet you, MJ,” I said. “I'm Amrita Delport, but I go by Rita.” She nodded again and we both went back to reading. I looked away from the page to take another bite and caught the two boys in my peripheral vision. I glanced over and both of them were staring intently at me and MJ. I quirked an eyebrow at them and the wiry one averted his eyes right away. The other, however, smiled and waved at me.

“I'm Ned!” He called down the table.

“Hi, Ned,” I said wearily, offering a half-hearted wave in response to his enthusiastic one.

“And this is Peter,” he said before I could look away. He gestured to his friend, who lifted his gaze a bit to direct a shy smile at me.

“Yeah, I'm Peter,” the second boy confirmed. I waved again and quickly turned back to my book.

Damn it, I thought. I'd gone two weeks without creating ties with anyone, and now that could be ruined. I just had to hope they wouldn't try to talk to me again. MJ was fine, seeing as she seemed just as reluctant to make friends as me. We had a few classes together and I knew she kept to herself mostly, either reading or sketching during lessons.

“Don't worry about them,” MJ said in a clear voice so that the two boys—Ned and Peter—could hear her words over their hushed conversation. “They're losers.”

“Then why do you sit with us?” Ned accused.

“Because I don't have any friends,” MJ replied. I smiled—I was beginning to like her. Peter huffed and returned to his lunch, chatting with his friend.

..........................................................................................

When seventh period came, I was more than ready to go home. Mrs. Han rambled on at the front of the room, explaining the intricate family trees of Wuthering Heights. I wasn't paying attention to her though, I was staring out the window at all of the buildings in the distance. New York City was one of the better cities I'd lived in. There were plenty of places to explore, which happened to be one of my favorite hobbies. The only advantage of having traveling journalists for parents was the opportunity for a new place to wander around every few months. Nothing ever got boring.

“Rita, do you know?” My name snapped me out of my reverie.

“No,” I answered after a second. This had happened to me on so many occasions, that I'd learned that it was best not to slur and stutter a nonsensical answer. That would only embarrass me further.

Mrs. Han put a hand on her hip and gave me a stern look. “Yes, you do. You just weren't paying attention to the question.” Any other teacher might have spared me the lecture, given me a disapproving glance, and moved on. But not Mrs. Han. She'd spoken to me on my first day, I'd made the mistake of telling her about my reading habit, and now she thought we had some sort of connection. Adults and their assumptions, I sighed.

I shrugged my shoulders, trying to end the conversation. Some of the students were starting to look back at me and I was begging Mrs. Han with my eyes to just move on. She gave me one last flick of her barely-there eyebrows and continued with the discussion. She was older than most of the teachers and she looked like it too, with her modest dresses and flat shoes. Her grey-streaked ebony hair was always tied up in a knot on top of her head. She was the image of strictness and her teaching style certainly didn't contradict it.

I was just about to shift my gaze back to the window when someone's eyes caught mine. It was the boy from lunch—Peter, that was his name. He was a row in front of me and a couple desks away, but that didn't seem to stop him from turning in his seat to stare at me. I raised my eyebrows as if to say What? His cheeks flushed but he managed a friendly smile before quickly looking away, just as he’d done earlier that day at lunch. I shook my head in dubiety but didn't bring my attention back to the window like I'd planned. Instead, I took the opportunity to observe Peter as he sat in his seat and listened to Mrs. Han talk.

He was of average height, but I had no doubt I'd still have to crane my neck a bit to look him in the eye. I was relatively short, only coming to about 5’4” on the tape measure, no matter how I contorted my spine or jutted out my chin. When I was younger, I remembered stuffing things in my shoes to give me a couple extra inches and trick my father. But it never worked. He would always hear the crinkle of crumpled-up paper in the heels of sneakers and order me to take them off before marking my height on the wall. I silently huffed at the memory.

Returning my attention to Peter, I noticed that I was wrong about my previous assumption that he was listening to Mrs. Han’s lecture. He kept fidgeting in his seat and glancing out the window as if he had somewhere to be. I continued to watch as he put a hand through the brown curls that fell across his forehead. I could even see his jaw clenching and unclenching on a loop, his fingers tapping out a beat on the surface of his desk.

Soon enough, I got bored watching Peter repeat the same nervous habits over and over again and completely spaced out. I began to wonder where I'd go tonight on my daily walk, but I was interrupted by the bell. Everyone stood up right away and funneled through the door, eager to break out of this prison. I took my time, gathering my books and sliding them into my bag. Just as I was walking out, Mrs. Han stopped me.

“Rita, come here for a second.” I reluctantly halted and made my way back to her desk. As soon as the stern glint entered her dark eyes, I knew I was not going to like what she had to say.

“Yes, Mrs. Han?”

“You're going to get more out of this class if you actually pay attention.” She got right to the point. I could respect that.

“Yes, you're probably right, but you see, I've already read the book at one of my other schools.”

“Even so, Miss Delport, you might find some of my points to be quite interesting…” At my disinterested look, she continued, “And quite helpful for the upcoming test.”

I gave her a small, close-lipped smile before nodding and saying, “I understand, Mrs. Han. I'll do better.” She raised her eyebrows at me, catching onto the slight insincerity in my tone. Unlike some of the other teachers, she saw straight through my empty politeness. “I promise,” I finally added.

Seeming to accept my answer this time, her lips widened into a smile the emphasized the crow’s feet at the corners of her upturned eyes. “Alright, go on then.” I waved and turned around to leave, but before I passed through the doorway, Peter caught my eye once again. He was still standing at his desk, rifling through his backpack. I could be wrong, but I had a sneaking suspicion that he had only been dawdling around to listen in on my conversation.

But perhaps I should give him the benefit of the doubt.

..........................................................................................

Half an hour later, I was standing before my apartment door, thumbing through the countless keys on my lanyard. I knew the sensible thing to do would be to get rid of the ones I no longer used, but they were some of the only souvenirs I had from all of my previous homes. I used colored stickers to denote which key went to which door, but I was starting to run out of the colors of the rainbow. I'd have to buy some pastels soon.

I finally spotted the green one and used it to unlock the door. I returned my lanyard to its side pocket on my backpack as I swung open the door.

“Is that you, Rita?” I was surprised by my mother's voice coming from her bedroom. Usually, she and dad didn't get home until around dinner time.

“Yeah, mom,” I called to her. I discarded my bag on the small dining room table and made my way over to the couch. I sank into the worn, red cushions that were so familiar to me. This couch was one of the only constants in my capricious life—everywhere we moved, I made sure this old piece of furniture had a spot in the back of the U-haul.

I might've closed my eyes to take a much-needed nap had my mother not come striding out of her room. Considering I was sprawled across the entire length of the sofa, she had to lift my feet before taking a seat. She made sure to pull off my clunky combat boots before setting them back down on her pristine pencil skirt.

“So, how's school going?” She said as she picked at some loose threads around the rips in my jeans.

“Oh, you'd better save that for the dinner table,” I mumbled. “Otherwise, you'll run out of questions during my nightly interrogation.”

My mother laughed. “You know your father and I just want to keep up with what's going on in your life. We've only got another two years left before you ditch us for college.” I scoffed at her.

“Where's dad?” I inquired.

“He's interviewing the CEO of Stark Industries right now, but he should be home before dinner.”

I hadn't forgotten about the big job my parents had moved us here for. They had been recruited to write this huge article about the Avengers—what about them, I had no idea. My parents refused to tell me anything beyond that, not even who hired them to write it. I'd begged them to let me come along to some of the interviews, but they'd been adamant about keeping me out of it. I'd just have to stick to dreaming about meeting Captain America or Thor...or iron Man...or Loki...or Hawkeye...the list goes on.

I stopped daydreaming long enough to realize my mother had asked me a question. One I hadn't heard. “Huh?”

“I just wanted to know how school is going. Your father and I know your grades are great, of course, but beyond that, we don't know anything. Have you made friends? Are the teachers nice? What about that pottery class you took? Are you learning anything new?”

I waited for the questions to stop before grumbling, “Not fun being left in the dark, eh?”

“Now, Rita,” she admonished, immediately realizing that I was referring to the article. “You know we aren't at liberty to discuss anything regarding that project. Even if we were, I still wouldn't take you along to my interview with Mr. Banner. I don't need you squealing in the background while I try to find the truth about—” She cut herself off, but she'd already piqued my attention.

“About what?” I prodded, sitting up on my elbows to give her an earnest look. But my mother only chuckled and shook her head at me. I sighed and slumped back in my seat.

“Now answer me, Rita. You make this so hard.”

“One of my many talents,” I drawled, but at her hard glare, I continued, “It's fine, mom. The teachers are nice and I like the pottery class. We've only been going over the basics thus far, but Mr. Karling mentioned some techniques I've never heard of.”

She nodded along, beaming at me. “And friends?”

I let out an exasperated sigh. I thought that if I just skipped over that one, she'd forget and move on, but I should've known better. My mother was a journalist and if someone was hiding something, she'd know it. “Yeah, the other students are nice. I talk to this one girl at lunch, MJ.” Given that we'd only spoken for the first time today, I didn't consider her to be a friend, but my mother didn't need to know that.

“That's great, hon. I hope to meet her before…” she trailed off.

“Before we move again,” I finished for her. Honestly, it didn't even bother me all that much anymore, but I knew my parents felt guilty about my abnormal childhood.

My mother nodded in a resigned way before getting up and walking to the kitchen. I quietly watched as she started to prepare dinner, the clang of pots and pans the only sound in the apartment. Usually, she only cooked on the weekends and we'd live off of leftovers throughout the week, but she must have gotten off early today.

“I'm going to go for a walk,” I blurted, getting to my feet and shrugging my boots back on.

“Be careful, Rita. Do you have your pepper spray?” She looked up from the water she was boiling to give me an expectant look.

“Of course, Mom.” I grabbed the messenger bag that I usually carried with me. I rifled through it and checked that the pepper spray was still in the outside pocket. It was.

I grabbed my keys, phone, and book from my backpack and walked through the door, locking the handle on the way. Right before it snicked shut, my mother called, “Be home by 7!”