#mostly thinking about this because my library has flat-out turned down all donations since the start of the pandemic

[ragsy]

controversial opinion, but donating your old books to libraries isn't usually the universally charitable deed most people think it is. most public libraries don't have the space, staff, or budget to sort through used books in the off chance that one or two out of a hundred are in good enough condition to add to their collection.

it's always a good idea to call ahead and ask what, if any, materials the library might accept as a donation. you'd be surprised what they will and won't take! my library flat-out refuses encyclopedias and textbooks, which takes a lot of people by surprise. on the other hand, the same library is always accepting donations of jigsaw puzzles and used magazines! it doesn't hurt to ask.

if you have old books you don't want and need to get rid of, i suggest finding a used bookstore, a charity that specializes in distributing used books, or a local school and/or retirement community.

if you just want to support your local library, that's great! just... ask them what they need, instead of assuming. most libraries would be much happier to receive a crisp $20 bill than a boxload of dusty paperbacks.

[themanicmagician]

Shipwrecked [4/4]

[AO3]

Summary: When Redd’s boat crashes upon the shore of Bastion Island, Tom reluctantly takes him in while he recovers. Tom despises Redd for his past deceit, but when he has no choice but to spend time with him, Tom is reminded why he fell in love with the wily fox in the first place.

“Welcome!” Mabel chirped, ever a font of enthusiasm. She clasped her paws together. “How can I help you two?”

Redd, looking decidedly uncomfortable, did not speak up. It fell upon Tom to explain.

“He needs a wardrobe.” Tom said. “He lost most of his things in the shipwreck, so we’re replacing what we can.”

Tom could admit, to himself alone, that he would miss the sight of Redd in his shirts. But Redd really should wear more fitting, comfortable clothes instead of baggy tees. And besides, Tom didn’t have that many spares.

“Oh, of course! How many outfits were you thinking?”

“Let’s do five, to start with. And two sets of sleepwear.”

Mabel nodded, then beckoned Redd over to the fitting platform. “Right this way, Mr. Redd.”

“It’s just Redd.” He did not follow the porcupine’s instructions right away, instead murmuring to Tom: “I’ll pay you back for all of it when I can.”

Redd was embarrassed—embarrassed to be unable to provide for himself, to be forced to rely upon Tom’s charity.  

“Don’t worry about it.”

This didn’t reassure Redd; his mouth twisted in discomfort.

“But…”

“Everything alright?” Mabel circled back to them, tape measure in hand.

“Yes, just give us a moment, please.”

When Mabel returned to the platform, Tom tried a different approach. “You’ve been a great help with the boys lately.” Indeed, story time with Redd was now a nightly ritual in the Nook household. They were steadily making their way through Flurry’s entire library. “Just think of it as repayment for that, alright?”

Redd mumbled something unintelligible, but finally nodded his acceptance. They joined Mabel. Redd stepped up on the platform, and Mabel began taking his measurements, jotting them down in a little spiral notebook.

Sable watched them shrewdly from her sewing station. Redd and Sable had never met in person before, but both knew of each other thanks to stories from Tom. Redd saw Sable observing him, and he offered a sheepish smile.

“I suppose we can’t do a complete wingspan measurement for now.” Mable mused. Redd turned away from Sable to look at the younger hedgehog, grateful for the plausible excuse to break away. “I’ll just have to use the measurement of one arm for the other as well. Oh! We can fix you up with a new sling, too. Wouldn’t be hard at all.”

“It’s fine, really,” Redd demurred. “It’s not necessary.”

“Oh pish. It’ll just be a bit of fabric, won’t it?” Mabel trotted over to her sister. “Sable, surely you’ve got something lying around that we could use.”

Redd threw a helpless look to Tom. Tom only shrugged. Once Mabel got started on something, there was no stopping her.

“Here.” Sable offered up a stripe of black fabric. Mable seized it with a happy “Thanks sis!” and then spent a good ten minutes between the front of the store and the back storage room, putting together an ensemble for Redd.

“Okay, you can try these on to start with.” Mabel set a bundle of clothes down in the changing room. “Do you need any help getting dressed?”

Redd colored. “No, I can handle it myself.”

As they waited for Redd to get changed, Tom chatted lightly with Mabel. The young hedgehog was overjoyed that their middle sibling, Label, was making frequent trips into Bastion. By the time Redd emerged from the dressing room, Tom had learned more than he ever needed to know about how Label’s hot pink clothing line was revolutionizing the fashion industry.

“Well?” Redd asked, scuffing his foot on the carpet.

Tom gave him a once-over. Mabel had selected comfortable clothes, suited for island living. Redd wore tan corduroy shorts, and a light pastel color block t-shirt. He didn’t look like a sleazy businessman, but like a true islander. Like he’d fit in well here.

Tom shoved the thought aside. He and Redd had made amends, but Redd was still going to leave in a few short weeks. Best not to dwell on things like that.

“It suits you,” Tom told him.

Redd muttered a thanks before Mabel dragged him off to try on something else.

~*~

Tom chopped apples into slices in his kitchenette for today’s lunch. He was fond of pears, but was infinitely grateful to Alex for bringing other fruits to the island, thereby expanding their cuisine possibilities. He was preparing fruit salad, made of the island’s entire available assortment, and included generous scoops of orange sherbet as well.

He stopped by the Cranny to drop off the boys’ lunches before he headed outside. He found Redd exactly where he thought he would: by the sea, an easel and canvas in front of him. He was working with acrylics today. Redd was painting the shoreline before him, capturing a wave mid-crash. Even partly-done, his work was impressive. It was a bit of luck that the shipwreck had spared the fox’s dominant hand.

A little ways in front of Redd was Julian. The unicorn must have assumed Redd was here to paint him, because he was currently splayed out on sand in a very dramatic pose.

“Make sure you get my best side, glitter!”

Redd, focused on painting a collection of wispy clouds, didn’t pay Julian any mind. Unperturbed, Julian remained in his chosen pose.

Tom nudged Redd’s shoulder with the bowl of fruit salad.

“Lunch.”

“Mmm.” Redd’s gaze didn’t lift from his canvas.

There was a splotch of blue paint on one of his ears. How on earth had he managed that?

Tom set the fruit salad down on the sand beside Redd. The fox’s tail swished lazily back and forth as he worked.

“It looks very good.” Tom complimented.

“Flatterer. I’m out of practice. Been a while since I’ve done something like this.” A while since he’d patined original art instead of copying classical pieces.

Redd added layers to the wavers. They began to look like wild, angry things.

Tom frowned.

“I spoke with Orville. He has spare life jackets he can donate for your boat. And he’s happy to go over basic sailing techniques with you. It won’t be like that again.”

“It was so sudden.” Redd explained, at length. His brush paused on the canvas as his gaze became distant. “One moment the waves were calm, and the next, they were roiling. I’m lucky I got away with just this.” He gestured to his splinted arm.

“Maybe someone can go back with you.” Tom suggested. “One of the dodos at the airline could sail with you and then fly back at port.”

The light in Redd’s eyes dimmed slightly. “Oh, yeah. The dodos. Maybe.”

The air between them felt thick with awkwardness. Tom kicked at the sand, begging someone up there for a distraction.

His prayer was answered in the form of Julian.

“My goodness!” Julian gasped, clutching a hoof to his chest as he ogled Redd’s work. “What a painting! You have captured my beautiful essence! Sublime! Magnifique!”

Redd leveled him a flat look.

“Yes, that’s exactly what he was going for. You truly have a mind for art, Julian.” Tom said.

Julian gave a bow before he pranced off with a self-satisfied smirk.

Redd snickered. Tom chuckled. They seemed to set each other off. Once they started, they couldn’t stop, until they were both letting loose full belly laughs.

~*~

June was a welcome reprieve from the previous month of cold rain. The air was mostly pleasant, occasionally humid. Rain came in short bursts and cleared up just as quickly.

Tonight was mildly warm, and they’d constructed a decent-sized bonfire in the town square. Residents mingled around the area. Flurry and Diana sipped drinks and chatted. Lucky was showing Del the proper marshmallow roasting technique. Julian and Elvis were arguing over whose turn it was to sing at the microphone. Fang grumbled about “kids and their wild parties” and yet mingled with the group anyway.

Tom sat on the swell of a grassy hill, overlooking the plaza. Sable was at his right. She could never sit entirely still, so she’d brought a half-finished scarf along with her to work on.

He watched the impromptu party for several moments, until a thought occurred to him. He straightened up from his casual slouch. Where were the boys? They knew the island, but it was still scorpion season.

“Sable, have you seen—?”

She pointed before he finished his sentence. Tom squinting in the dim lighting to see what she was gesturing towards.

“Oh. Oh no.”

“Mhm.”

Celeste had dragged her brother over to her telescope. Blathers was peering through it as Celeste chattered at his side. The siblings were utterly preoccupied with their occupation, completely oblivious to the three forms sidling up behind them. Timmy, Tommy, and Redd were inching closer and closer. Each of them was holding a fake rubber tarantula. Tom had raised an eyebrow when the boys ordered a box of them a week ago, but hadn’t thought to question why they wanted them. He’d just assumed they were for the Cranny’s stock.

Timmy giggled visibly, his tiny shoulders shaking with laughter. Redd shushed him.

“Shouldn’t we stop them?” Tom asked.

“Better Blathers than me.” Sable said simply, needles clicking lightly as she knit. There was a gleam of mischief in her brown eyes.

“Sable!” She startled a laugh from him.

The boys rose up on their tip-toes to place their fake bugs on Blathers’ shoulders; Redd deposited his rubber tarantula atop the owl’s head.

Blathers, feeling the touch, lifted his wing in confusion. He squawked at the bugs on his wings, and flapped them in panic. In his fright, the tarantula on his head slipped down, landing right between his eyes. Blathers’ resultant squeal turned everyone’s heads.

Timmy and Tommy leaned on each other, bodies wracked with laughter. Redd snickered.

Blathers, having now realized he’d been played, stomped over to the perpetrators. He pointed an accusatory wing at Redd.

“You! You—You—!”

“Hey, hey, calm down, Babbles. Don’t get your feathers in a twist.”

Blathers sputtered indignantly.

“You wouldn’t hurt an invalid, would you?”

“I... well...no…but still!”

Redd sobered. “Sorry, I guess we went too far. I apologize. Put ‘er there.” Redd held out his hand for a shake, to make amends.

Blathers took it—then shrieked again. Redd had palmed him another fake spider. The boys started giggling again.

Tom facepalmed.

~*~

Tom deposited the splint and sling on the coffee table. The fur on Redd’s now-freed arm was a bit matted, unwashed for seven weeks. But the arm itself appeared sound.

“Well?” Tom asked, a touch anxiously. “How does it feel?”

Redd flexed his arm carefully. Drew his fingers into a loose fist before he extended them again.

“A bit tender. Stiff. But better.”

Redd’s ship had been fully patched up about a week ago. Now that the fox’s arm was finally healed, there was no real reason for Redd to stick around. He had confessed to coming here to see Tom. But Tom couldn’t give his heart away so easily a second time. And Redd had never promised to stay, only to visit.

Tom busied himself by picking at some fuzz on the arm of the couch. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to get on your way then.”

“...Actually, I figured I should stick around for a bit.”

“Oh?” Tom was grateful his tone came off at just the right level of interested, not too eager.

“Sure. Should probably hang around another week. Maybe more. You know, just to make sure my arm is strong enough. It’ll be a problem if I get out there and can’t really grasp the wheel.”

“Uncle Redd!”

“...Redd!”

Timmy and Tommy burst into the room, a whirlwind of excitement. Tommy was clutching a new book to his chest.

“Can you read this one to us tonight?”

“...night?”

“Of course.”

The twins noticed Redd’s discarded splint, and squeezed themselves on either side of Redd to cuddle.

“Careful, boys.” Tom warned. He didn’t want them to accidentally hurt Redd in their enthusiasm.

“They’re fine,” Redd said, softly. He gently ruffled the fur on both the boys’ heads.

“K.K. is in town today. Can we all go see him?”

“...him?”

“Who?” Redd asked.

“He’s Uncle Tom’s favorite.”

“...favorite.”

Redd raised an eyebrow at Tom. “Favorite?” He repeated, dryly.

“Favorite  musician.” Tom corrected.

“Can we go? Please?”

“...please?”

“Why not.” Tom said. The boys cheered and scampered off to get ready.

~*~

Lightning bugs blinked in the air as the quartet meandered from the Cranny over to the town plaza. K.K. sat on his customary stool, giving his guitar a quick tuning before his performance. A few villagers were already milling around the area, waiting for the evening concert to begin.

“Right, my dudes and lady dudes, any request?” The musician asked the crowd.

Suggestions were hollered out, and K.K. inevitably went with a jaunty fairground melody. Diana and Julian clapped along to the melody. Isabelle coaxed the twins into dancing with her, and the trio jumped and swayed merrily in the center of the plaza. One song melted into the next, and more villagers joined in. Muffy twirled in elegant pirouettes. Del performed a shambling robot. Neither of them really matched the tone of the music, but they were having fun.

Redd nudged Tom. “You should be out there too.”

“Me?” Tom laughed. “Hardly.”

“What, are you shy?” Redd teased, before he offered his hand. “C’mon. I’ll go with you.”

After a beat, Tom placed his paw in Redd’s. It was warm.

Redd didn’t bring them to the center, instead lingering on the fringe of the group. Neither of them tried to keep up with the frantic beat of the music, instead swaying with each other, from side to side. They were close like this, closer than they had been in some time. Redd smelled like the sea, like his acrylics, like the lemon-scented soap Tom owned. Their noses brushed by accident.

“Sorry.” Redd murmured.

“No, no—it’s fine.” Tom had one hand splayed across Redd’s back. For support.

The music shifted to something slower. Tom groaned inwardly as he recognized the melody. K.K. Love Song. He glanced over to K.K. Timmy and Tommy were next to him, looking rather smug. Had they been the ones to request the song? After all he’d done for them…

At least Redd was unfamiliar with the music. The one saving grace.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Never a good sign.” Tom quipped, weakly.

“I’m grateful for everything you all did to rebuild my ship.” It was still shocking to hear Redd speak so plainly, so honestly. “But, if it was alright with you, I thought. That maybe instead of going, I could...stay?”

Tom froze. It was what he’d wanted, and now that it was being offered to him, he could scarcely believe it.

Redd mistook his silence for a denial. He began to draw away.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’ll go. I can go tomorrow.”

Tom clutched his arm so he wouldn’t slip away. “No! No, I mean—yes. If you wanted to stay I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Redd’s smile was like the sun.

“Good. Great. Yeah.” He let out a breathless laugh of relief.

“We’ll have to pick a plot of land for you. Alex can help coordinate that.”

“We’ll be neighbors. Neighbors,” Redd tested the word out, and seemed to like it. “I’ll badger you for a cup of sugar. You’ll yell at me for mowing my lawn too early in the morning.”

“The boys will lose their baseball in your yard. You’ll have to return it. Over and over again.”

“Will I? Maybe I’ll be a crotchety neighbor. Who wants those darned whippersnappers messing about my perfectly-trimmed lawn?”

Tom laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

Tom did.

It was a good idea for them to live separately, for now. They would wade into it slowly this time, not plummet into the deep end right off. They’d see what happened, how it played out. But even though they were taking their relationship slow, that didn’t mean he couldn’t…

Tom ducked down to press a chaste kiss to Redd’s cheek.

“Welcome home, Redd.”

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

A Girl’s Best Friend (Peter Parker x OC) - Part 2

Synopsis: Diamonds are man’s best friend- or dogs are girls’ best friends, wait… how does the saying go again?

Warnings: Family issues; Peter has a crush and it’s complicated; mention of assault; good dogs; College AU; aged up! characters; TONY STARK IS ALIVE AND WE ALL LIVE IN A HAPPY PLACE CALLED DENIAL

A/N: In this story, Peter has Tom’s dog, Tessa.

Word count: 2.5k

Part 1<<< >>> Part 3

MASTERLIST

                Peter didn’t know how to feel about having been yelled at by the daughter of the mayor, but he had an inkling it wasn’t good. There was a point in his life where he had hoped that one day he might receive the keys to the city – he just really wanted to know if they opened anything or if they were merely symbolic (it would be greatly disappointing).

That dream had gone down the drain this morning, though.

No wait, he was getting mixed up again. She had bumped into and yelled at Peter Parker. Peter Parker would never stand in front of the mayor and the whole city to be gifted the keys of New York City. If such a thing ever happened, it would be Spider-Man standing on the stage outside the Townhall. And Emmeline Gerard had never met Spider-Man – which was mostly due to the fact she did not live anywhere near Queens.

A week later, he was ashamed to say that he did know where she lived. He was even more ashamed to admit that he followed her home one night during his Spider-Man shift. It wasn’t premeditated at all, she just came out of what he could only assume to be a late-night study session, the light at the library’s door hitting her face and giving it a golden shine.

Since moving to Manhattan, Peter had changed his habits quite a bit, but he tried to center his action on Queens. Nobody needed to know that Spider-Man lived in a college dorm now. Ned and Peter had gotten accepted in Columbia with full-ride scholarships – that Peter highly suspected were curtesy of Tony Stark – and even got lucky enough to get individual rooms. How oddly convenient for someone with a double identity, ugh.

The way to Queens was a short one when Peter swung from building to building, but he didn’t see why he couldn’t keep an eye open from here to there, just in case someone needed his help. He saw her coming out of the library when he was about to sneak out of his window, and he didn’t know what possessed him, but the next thing he knew, he was on the roof of her building, overlooking central park.

“Fancy,” Peter said with a whistle, admiring the tall, modern building.

                So this is where well-off kids live, he thought. While it did look flashy and awesome from the outside, something still tugged at his heart, and his mind jumped to the homey feeling of aunt May’s little apartment in Queens. He wasn’t sure he would trade that cozy atmosphere for anything in the world. This building reminded him of Stark Tower.

                He had once asked Tony what floor he lived on, and he had paused and gauged the kid.

“I don’t live here, Spandex.” He rolled his eyes. “This is my workplace. I have a house you know? Several, actually. I’ll invite you next time Pepper and I host a barbecue.”

                That was it. This place looked like a workplace. Maybe the headquarters of a fancy magazine like Vogue or Vanity Fair, where fashion icons walked in and out of all the time, but no one ever stayed the night. All windows, no ugly concrete walls. Shiny in the afternoon sun, brand spanking new.

                In a sense, it fit her, he mused. A lonely princess living in a fancy glass tower.

                Without wasting any more time thinking silly thoughts, Peter continued his way back home.

  *

                  No more milk. All of this happened because there was no more milk.

“I swear to the fucking gods, I’m sure I still had an extra bottle!” Emmeline said before slamming the refrigerator door shut.

                She needed to work on her language, she was growing more vulgar every day.

                It was half past ten, most stores were closed apart from the small hole-in-the-wall convenience stores – which couldn’t be found that easily when you lived in the Upper East Side. She whistled and Bella came trotting into the kitchen, looking at her with expectant eyes.

“We’re going shopping,” she said, and Bella knew what it meant. She ran to the front door, barely holding in place even though she had had her walk only a few hours ago.

                Emmeline mechanically slipped on her dog walk shoes, very worn out sneakers, her jacket, and clipped on Bella’s leash. Her dog practically dragged her out and into the elevator before she could even lock her door.

                As much as she complained about it, she never minded going for a late-night walk – even if she couldn’t really relax while walking New York at night. You just never knew what creep roamed the streets.

                The blue neon light blinking in the night appeared around a corner, and she hope to God they had her oat milk. A girl needed her oat milk.  She walked in there confidently, thinking she could will the store to have what she was looking for. The owner sent her a sharp look when he saw her strut in with a beast of a dog behind her.

                Bella was the sweetest thing, but she did look intimidating, which was the whole point.

“Let’s see…” She scanned the refrigerated shelves at the back of the store, looking for plant-based milk when suddenly, her shopping was interrupted in the rudest fashion.

                A man catcalled her.

                The whistle made her ears ring and she froze, ready to ward off whoever thought this was an appropriate setting to chat up a girl. Or worse still: whoever thought catcalling was okay in any form or shape.

“That’s a big dog for a small girl,” the man said, already approaching.

                Emmeline refused to turn her head to look at him, but she glanced from the corner of her eye to see who she was dealing with. He was in his late twenties – probably – and looked like the kind of person you didn’t want to hang out with unless you were looking for trouble.

“That’s a big mouth you have for such a small dick,” she scoffed. Bingo! Oat milk. She opened the glass door to get her bottle.

“What did you just say?” The man took a step closer, visibly trying to make himself look taller by puffing out his chest and raising his chin.

                Emmeline was not tall, but she stood her ground, not letting herself intimidated by this dude. She couldn’t let him see she was scared. Bella barked suddenly, making him jump back, out of surprise.

“Let me through,” she asked rather politely - she was proud of herself. “And a piece of advice: don’t hit on girls doing their groceries, it’s rude. We don’t want to talk to you, alright? We just want our fucking oat milk.”

                So much for not cursing anymore. Life just couldn’t give her a break these days, nothing had gone smoothly since the blood donation last week. Maybe it was the universe making her pay for being rude to that boy who hadn’t even done anything wrong.

“You fucking-“

                He tried to step closer again, but Bella barked louder this time. At night, Emmeline didn’t walk Bella with her muzzle on, she’d rather pay the fee than take the risk. Her dog growled until the shop owner came to see what was going on. He made it clear to the young woman that he would not allow her dog in anymore.

                The rebuffed man stomped out, and Bella paid for the milk, then left the store. She did not expect to be yanked into an alley as soon as she stepped on the sidewalk.

“You think you can talk to me like that?!” The stranger pushed her backwards, her back hitting the wall sharply and knocking the air out of her lungs.

                Bella barked as a warning again, growling at the man’s feet. She was already biting the hem of his pants when he put his hands on Emmeline again, popping the buttons of her blouse in one swift pull. They all scattered on the pavement.

“Help! Hel-“ He slammed his hand flat on her mouth to stop her from alerting the shop owner.

                Bella growled once more and lurched at her master’s attacker, going for the leg. When her sharp teeth sunk into his flesh, he yelped in pain, his scream way louder than any call for help Emmeline might have shouted.

                Her eyes went wide with fear and her tough demeanor was gone within a split second. Not again, not again… The pitiful yelp she heard made her heart sink. Not Bella… He kicked the dog again, making it cower a bit but not give up on defending her mistress. She began to bark like crazy, hopefully attracting someone’s attention.

                Emmeline tried to push her attacker off her, struggling to wiggle out of his grip but he was pressing his body onto her to keep her trapped between him and the wall.

“Stay still you little vegan bitch! I’ll show you some meat!” she hissed against Emmeline’s ear, making her skin crawl.

                Tears began to sting at her eyes, and she couldn’t breathe probably with this man’s hand still covering her mouth while he reached into his pants with the other. There wasn’t much doubt in her mind what he was going to do to her, which only sent her into hysterics. She closed her eyes, praying for help, hearing nothing but Bella’s barks and growls as she once again bit the man’s leg, momentarily making him let go of Emmeline. She took the occasion to scream her lungs out, when suddenly, he was gone.

                Bella stopped barking and walked to Emmeline, who slowly collapsed on the ground, stunned into silence. There wasn’t anyone with her in the alley anymore, she was alone with Bella. She nudged her gently with her nose, whining and licking her arm.

“Are you alright?” Another voice that she had never heard before broke her out of her reverie.

                Emmeline startled but didn’t stand up when another figure stood before her, entirely dressed in blue and red. Her jaw hung open and she couldn’t do anything but stare at him. It was Spider-Man, that much she could tell, although she never thought she would see him one day, not in the flesh.

“You’re Spider-Man,” she stated the obvious, just to be sure.

“Oh good, you’re not in shock or anything,” he said, sounding relieved – it was hard to tell with the mask. “This really isn’t my scene, I never know what to do when people stare blankly at me and start shaking and crying – not that it’s not a natural reaction-“ he began to ramble.

                Emmeline scrambled to her feet, Bella standing between her and the superhero, on her guard more than ever now.

“Oh sorry, let me help you-“ Spider-Man reached out for her hand to help her up but instead Emmeline bent over to gently pat her dog’s head in order to calm her down.

“Thank you for saving me,” she told him, not looking away from her dog.

Her heart was still pounding and watching Bella’s soulful eyes eased her nerves. That asshole had picked her in the face! She cradled Bella’s face.

“Do you need help getting up or-“

“No,” Emmeline snapped. “No,” she repeated slowly, in a softer voice and with a sheepish look. “Bella is trained to protect me from strangers, you can’t touch me unless I initiate the contact and she knows you’re not a threat.”

“A fellow defender of the innocent then,” Spider-Man teased, looking at her dog with a kind of amusement mixed with some admiration. “I’m sure she did her best tonight.”

“She’s still a little young,” Emmeline admitted, never stopping to pat her dog’s head. In truth, she was starting to feel that backlash Spider-Man spoke of, and her eyes soon began to prickle. She didn’t want to cry, he literally just admitted that he didn’t like when people starting crying on him. If she focused on Bella, she would be fine. “But she did her very best,” she continued, having swallowed down the tears. “That jerk even kicked her, but she did her best.”

                She still hadn’t initiated contact, as she put it, and Peter irked to reach out and make sure she was fine, because she didn’t look fine to him. She looked like she was about to burst in tears. Her blouse still hung open and her eyes looked glossy.

                Bella whined again, leaning into her mistress’ touch.

“She looks like a sweet dog,” he observed. Whatever he said, she did not look away from Bella and he thought maybe that was how she dealt with being assaulted. Looking at something familiar and comforting could be very helpful.

“Yes,” she finally said before standing up, having collected herself. “She’s the sweetest.”

“Maybe too sweet to take walks at night?” he asked carefully, not wanting to upset the girl further.

She hiccupped.

“Maybe, yeah… I just- I was out of milk,” she confessed, feeling the blush rise to her cheeks.

“… out of milk?” Peter asked. That was when he spotted the bottle that had rolled on the ground. He picked it up. “Oh, so that’s where the ‘vegan bitch’ thing came from!” he exclaimed, as if he just had an illumination. “I didn’t get it at first.”

“Yeah, apparently it’s an insult now.” Emmeline laughed a bit. They say even faking a laugh could trick the body into producing dopamine. “I’m not even vegan, I’m just lactose intolerant.”

                She paused and pressed her eyes shut. Gosh darn, why would she tell Spider-Man that she was lactose intolerant? This entire evening was chaotic at best, but it took a sharp turn for the ridiculous just then.

“Not that it’s relevant in any way.” She held her hand open and Peter gave him the bottle, watching Bella twitch nervously but stay sat at Emmeline’s feet. “Sorry, I’m just a little shaken up.”

“No, no, don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. Usually I’d offer to bring you home, but I can’t take Bella swinging in the air.” He scratched the back of his neck in a mechanical gesture, although he couldn’t feel a thing through the material. It was made to stop bullets after all.

“That’s fine, you already did more than enough for me.”

“Still, I want to make sure you get home safely. I’ll follow you at a distance in case anything happens.”

                Emmeline didn’t really know what to say, the words were stuck at the back of her throat, creating a knot. Having Bella by her side was a great comfort already but knowing that Spider-Man watched over her brought her immeasurable relief.

“Thank you,” she managed to croak out.

“You can walk home in peace now.”

                She picked up Bella’s leash and tightened her grip on it, ready to walk out of the shadows but suddenly, she lurched at Spider-Man, hugging him because nothing she could say would properly convey the way she felt right now. He had saved her.

                Bella woofed as a warning but didn’t seem to be ready to jump at Peter’s throat, which he was glad for because he really didn’t want this particular dog to not like him.

                The hug didn’t last long and soon Emmeline pulled away, an embarrassed smile on her face.

“Thank you again,” she muttered before going on her way.

                Bella lingered a bit in front of Peter, gauging him. Peter crouched down and gave her a quick pat on the head.

“Take good care of her, will you?”

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