#THIS WAS SCHEDULED FOR SATURDAY BUT THE GRIND CANNOT WAIT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pokemaniac1 · 4 years

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To Grant a Wish - Part 1

Written for @tilltheendwilliwrite‘s 7.7k Celebration (Covid Sucks) Challenge. This got waaaay away from me and ended up being almost three times longer than I thought it was going to be. It was originally going to be a oneshot but i’m going to have to post the second half in a few days due to the flu. :(

Check it out on Ao3 Here

My prompt was this image:

Summary: After trying and failing to set an appointment to meet with Iron Man, Make-A-Wish Foundation worker, Eliza Elliot, has no idea how she's going to help her kids fulfil their wish to 'Meet a real life superhero'.

However, thanks to an online video, some determination, and a pair of chaotic interns, Eliza manages to pull it off.

Warnings: Childhood illnesses, references to terminal illnesses, hospitals, possible inaccuracies in the job description tbh, cat calling, getting cornered by drunk guys, threatened assault, car crash, (almost)getting run over by a car,

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Saturday evening had Eliza rubbing her eyes tiredly and glaring at the phone in her hand. The number to the Stark Industries' head office flashed briefly on her phone’s screen before going black.

She had been trying to get in touch with the events' coordinator of the company, or someone who could help her, for the past 3 months, but she'd been shunted off from one person to the next with seemingly no end in sight.

She noted the time, seeing 8:26pm, and sighed. Closing her notepad, she was about to place it back in her bag and head off for the night when her phone buzzed on the counter. She looked at the number and, seeing one of the numbers she had spent over an hour on hold with today, she scrambled to pick it up. She almost lost her mug - empty but for a few left over coffee grinds laying at the bottom - off the side of her desk in her haste but managed to catch it just as she pressed the 'Accept Call' button. She placed it back on the teetering pile of papers that sat on the edge of her desk, its weight balancing out the whole pile and preventing an avalanche that was one day inevitable.

"Hello! This is Eliza Elliot." She said to the phone, her best Customer Service Voice(TM) in place. She hoped briefly that she didn't sound too frantic.

"Ah, Miss Elliott. This is Michael Walters, I'm the deputy events manager at Stark Industries." Came the clipped voice from the other end. "I'm calling to follow up with you regarding your calls over the last few months." "It's great to hear from you Mr. Walters." Again, Eliza did her best to sound calm, hope rising in her chest. Three months and finally a response. "I was told you were one of the best people to speak to in regards to setting up an appointment with Iron Man." Him and like 20 others. "That's correct, I'm one of those in charge of approving Mr. Stark's events." he said, sounding like he had his nose pointed to the ceiling.

The haughtiness in his tone was hard to miss and Eliza felt her own nose wrinkle in distaste. Just get through this conversation Eliza. You've waited 3 months for this opportunity. She took a deep breath and jumped right into it.

"Great! As you're most likely aware from my previous calls, I'm calling on behalf of the Make-A-Wish foundation. I'm looking to set up a meet and greet with Mr. Stark and some of the children who would love to meet their hero." Her rehearsed line came out in a single breath and quickly enough it almost sounded like a single word. Thankfully, it was understandable, but it was a close thing. Pinching herself slightly, she forced herself to take a deep breath. Here next words came out a tad more controlled. "What would be involved....."

"Miss Elliott." Came the abrupt reply, cutting off her off. "I'm calling to inform you that, unfortunately, we can't approve of an event held at your location." Eliza's breath caught in her throat.

"Oh, well thank you for getting back to me and letting me know. Is it because of security for Mr. Stark?" She asked once she could breathe again, figuring that that would be a valid concern considering everything that the Avengers deal with on an almost weekly basis. It's not like a small (government funded) hospital in the middle of New Jersey would have the kind of security needed to prevent those risks. "We're happy to book an approved venue if that's what it takes."

"Ah wonderful, we can put you on the waiting list then." Walters said. The snobbish tone was still present and it rubbed Eliza up the wrong way. Do it for the kids, Eliza. Jeremy and Zeki have been waiting for this. She heard papers shuffle in the background. "It appears our next available booking is in 18 months at the..."

Her heart plummeted, a heavy rock forming in the pit of her stomach not even hearing where the venue was. She found her voice after a moment and was quite proud of the fact that there was no waver to it.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Walker. I know this may be a lot to ask, but is there any chance we can get an earlier time slot?" She asked. A pause on the other end had her palms sweating. She rushed to fill the silence. "It's just that, we have a couple of kids who have been waiting a really long time already and we're working on fast-tracking a few select wishes due to the nature of their illnesses." Fuck. Did I just violate HIPAA by saying that? Shit fuck. Too late now. "They're really looking forward to seeing their heroes."

"Miss Elliott," He started, a harsh edge to his voice. "I certainly cannot rush you up the queue. If we let anyone just push ahead, especially those looking for handouts, then we wouldn't be the industry leaders we are. Your organisation will wait your turn regardless of whatever sob story you have lined up."

Eliza was stunned silent momentarily, not quite sure how to respond.

She wasn't the best with social cues, but she was pretty sure that the man's response was entirely uncalled for. Even if she was trying to get a foot in the door to meeting her superhero for personal reasons, surely they had enough resources to do a background check on everyone who was trying to get a meeting? Wouldn't that be enough to see that she was who she said she was?

He clearly knew she was with the Make-A-Wish Foundation though. He mentioned looking for handouts, was this because they were a charity? Why would they have a problem with that though? Tony Stark and Stark Industries was famous for having one of the most influential charities in the country in the Maria Stark Foundation. Surely they'd be understanding in helping another charity? This sort of thing is what they did, right?

Mr. Walker had continued talking throughout her minor existential crisis.

"It's also come to my attention that you have made over a dozen calls to our office just in the past month." He said in his imperious tone.

She didn't need to look at her notes to know that, yes, she had indeed called them over a dozen times this month. Twenty-six times to be exact. Though, to be fair, most of those were to the Maria Stark Foundation rather than Stark Industries itself and all of those were because they couldn't seem to decide who was in charge of organising a meeting with Iron Man.

"I have booked you in for the next available appointment in 18 months. Our event team will be in touch with the details in the next 48 hours. From now on, please refrain from excessive phone calls, otherwise we will be forced to pursue legal action on the grounds of harrassment. I hope you have a lovely evening Miss Elliott."

At the sudden beep signalling the end of the call, Eliza could only stare at the phone, the number again flashing on the screen before going dark. After what felt like an eternity, she placed the phone down on the counter and collapsed her head onto her arms.

What the fuck was that?

--------------------

Two days later on Monday morning, Eliza walked into the children's wing of the hospital, the laughs and chatter that greeted upon her entry making her smile. Despite everything that they were going through, the kids always managed to have smiles on their faces.

Her job as a Wish Granter with the Make-a-Wish Foundation had her scheduled to come in to socialise with her assigned children at least three days a week. She adored seeing her honorary children whenever she was scheduled; it was a part of her job description that was a bonus she was very happy to take advantage of.

They were so often such a joy to speak with as the distinctive resilience of children was plain as day in almost all of the kids in the hospital. Whether they're hospitalised because of cancer, a birth defect, or even a degenerative disease, the vast majority of the time they're playing and laughing as much as they were able just like any regular kids.

Her job could be really difficult though. Sometimes, it was heart wrenching to look at all the tiny faces in the children's wing of the hospital and know that for some of them, their stay in the hospital would be ongoing for the remainder of their lives.

There were also days where certain children had a particularly painful day. It could be a flair up, a seizure, or a day after a surgery. The days that she had to watch the almost lifeless forms of usually energetic children weighed heavily on her heart.

Thankfully, that day seemed to be one of the good days.

When we she walked through the door to the ward one of her children were assigned to, she was almost bowled over by a bright blur at waist height. She only just managed to stay standing by reaching out and snagging the doorframe with one of her hands, steadying both herself and the little barnacle that was now attached to her legs.

She looked down and her face brightened in happiness at seeing the excited face of one of the kids looking up at her. Her concerns of the previous night's talk were put on pause and sent to the back of her mind as she went to chat the tiny ray of sunshine.

"Carly!" She exclaimed, taking in the little 6 year old dressed in her favourite summer dress, even though it could be considered sweater temperature in the air conditioned room. "It's good to see you, sweetie! I see you're up and moving about like a little tornado."

That got a giggle from the little girl and another squeeze before she let go and stepped back from Eliza.

"I'm super fast today!" Carly giggled. "I totally surprised you just then, didn't I?"

"You sure did." Eliza laughed, taking a step back into the room and making space in the doorway for a mum coming in. "What have you been up to today with all this energy?" The question seemed to remind the girl of something and she quickly grabbed hold of Eliza's hand again, tugging her towards a bed at the back of the ward and chattering so fast Eliza couldn't keep up with what she was saying.

As she was dragged walking past, several parents who were sitting beside beds – some carefully trying to avoid any wires or IV cords their young children had - looked up and smiled in greeting at her. They were doing remarkably well at managing the kids considering most of them seemed to have caught whatever spurt of energy Carly was displaying. She'd be worried if it weren't such a refreshing sight to see.

The children in this ward ranged in ages from five to ten years old and while most of those in the children's wing stayed maybe a couple of nights at a time, this ward and the ones either side of it were where those with some of the more serious conditions were staying. These were the kids who tended to come in more frequently for operations or observations and for longer periods.

For example, Carly, who wasn't one of the children whose Wish she was organising but was hard to ignore even on one of her bad days, was there that day on observation after a scare that her leukemia was returning. She'd recently had her third chemotherapy treatment so she was still in the early stages of treatment. Despite this, she rarely stayed still for very long, and was on her feet as often as she was physically able to be, much to her parents' distress.

It hurt sometimes to know that such young children were going through such terrible experiences, but they always maintained such positive outlooks on their lives, it was difficult to remain too upset around them.

Eliza noted, with no small amount of amusement, that the bed she was being led to was almost completely covered with pillows. It was an impressive stack to say the least. It had been covered from the very top to the very end in pillows of varying sizes and was roughly five layers high all the way across, even six layers in some places. If Eliza had to guess, she'd say there was easily fifty pillows just on that one bed alone. Beside her, Carly was chatting away happily, informing Eliza that they had plans for today and that they needed her help with a very important task.

"Mummy said we weren't allowed to start until you got here, so now that you're here you, me and Zeki can play princes and princesses! Buuut...." the drawn out word was punctuated with another fierce little tug to her arm. "we need a castle!"

Eliza huffed out a laugh and traded an amused glance with Carly's mother who was watching everything from a chair by the window.

Zeki, a young boy with polymicrogyria and a smile with an intensity set to outshine his hardships, was standing beside a tower to the pillow gods, practically vibrating with excitement. He was one of the two children whose wish Eliza was organising and he happened to be one of Carly's best friends in the ward. The two of them were practically inseparable when they were staying in the hospital at the same time.

Due to his condition, his brain hadn't developed correctly in the womb and led to Zeki being born deaf, having a lot of trouble with coordination, and often experiencing seizures. It was a severe condition that was progressively getting worse. This condition, paired with an underdeveloped heart, had led to far too many close calls for comfort and a great deal of uncertainty of his survival with each seizure (hence Eliza's urgency to get in touch with Iron Man).

Kids being kids though, that didn't stop either of them from playing their hardest. With an excited wave at Eliza when he saw her, he pointed at the pillows and started signing even more wildly. She didn't know much sign language but it looked like a pillow fort construction was in the near future. She was proven correct a moment later.

"He says we're going to be building a Pillow Castle Fort, 'liza!" Carly almost shouted her Big Reveal as they came up to him. "Ooohh! That sounds fun!" Eliza said with enthusiasm. "That's a lot of pillows you have there. Where did you get them all?" "His mummy brought most of them and my mummy brought some of the others! We needed at least a hundred pillows for the castle!" She said with a serious nod to her head. "Let's go!"

"I'd love to help, Carly. But, aren't you supposed to be resting today?" Eliza asked, pausing by the bed and giving the girl what she hoped was a disapproving face. She apparently needed to work on her disapproving looks because Carly just grinned, ignored her, and started helping Zeki move the pillows from the bed to the floor. Eliza sighed. "Fine, but once we finish, you're going to bed, little miss."

And with that, the three of them got to work. With a chuckle and an amused glance at the two troublemakers Eliza focused on following the appointed princess' directions.

She wasn't surprised when, after only a minute and in a moment of frustration and mischief, as they were taking the main pile off the bed, Carly decided that the easiest way to bring them down was via the avalanche method; i.e. Grab a couple from the bottom of the pile and rip them out to bring the rest of the pillows down on top of them. Zeki let out a squeal of surprise and then a loud giggle as the pillows tumbled down around them.

Once that excitement was over, the castle was started by using the bed as a foundation with the pillows propped up against the legs and built around it. Carly obviously had a vision as to how her castle needed to be designed because she took over directions almost immediately and was very fastidious about the placement of each pillow.

She wasn't sure exactly what she was signing to Zeki, but her playful comments to Eliza along the lines of "'Liza, make sure that pillow is exactly this far away from the one next to it! No, no, no! This far!", or the very serious "No, 'Liza. We can't just make it two floors high! It has to be three floors! The princess and the prince are going to have the best room we can make." while Zeki giggled and wiggled at their side made her think they were talking smack about her in their secret language. The cheeky little things.

It was an hour later and the pillow castle was well on its way to completion when Eliza's other charge came to greet her.

Jeremy was a little boy for his 10 years of age and he came almost crashing into the ward through the door and bounding, not quickly but still energetically, over to her when he saw her. He had a massive smile on his face as his momentum, and lack of coordination, brought him crashing into her where she was crouching on the floor. Luckily for the castle, they fell to the side and away from the pillows, however, it wasn't so lucky for Eliza's elbow, which caught the tiled floor as she turned to catch the small bundle of energy flying into her. She chuckled as she sat up, ignoring the slight flare of a soon-to-be bruise, and picked up the squirming child from her lap.

"Hi Jeremy. How are you going today, kiddo?" She asked with a grin.

The garbled noises she got in return, paired with an excited wave of an Iron Man toy she had just noticed in his hand made her smile widen further, though a ball of sadness curled low in her belly.

Jeremy had an enzyme deficiency (the name of which was more a rearrangement of the alphabet to Eliza than an actual word) which caused a variety of issues for him. Besides being unable to communicate verbally, he also had various bone malformations, and had to have enzyme replacements each week. These appointments meant he was hooked up to a bunch of machinery for 8 hours every Monday, and while not a cure for his condition, did a lot to slow down its progression.

Having just arrived for his appointment, he was in high spirits and was excited to see all of his friends again. It was also apparent, he was keen to show off his new toy.

"Oh wow! That's an awesome Iron Man toy!" She told him excitedly. "Is he new?"

He nodded frantically in return and pulled out his mobile phone. He pulled up his communication app and started typing.

She waited patiently for him as she fixed the base of the castle fort and once he was done she read what he showed her. Carly and Zeki were excitedly starting to crawl through the castle and test its integrity so Eliza knew she had a moment to chat with her second charge. Carly was gingerly pulling herself up to the bed level while Zeki was exploring the base level, the one securely on the ground and the one with the most 'rooms' able to be huddled together.

'We were buying a present for my friend's birthday and mum got it for me!' He'd typed.

"Ooh! That's awesome!" She exclaimed. Grinning, she looked down at his shirt with a big screen print of the Ironman armour on it and his light up Ironman glow shoes. "Iron Man's your favourite superhero too isn't he?" She knew the answer but he always got excited when he spoke about Ironman.

As she expected, he started writing frantically on his app, telling her all about the trip to the store and the fact that he got to play in the park after it, and even meeting one of his school friends there!

'It even comes with 2 extra armour sets!' He went on to type. 'When I get home, I'm going to be putting on one of them! It's like a puzzle!'

She grinned. "Woah Iron Man puzzles!?" She started nodding her head thoughtfully while smiling. "They are the best kind of puzzles."

As Jeremy started typing on his phone once again, and Carly and Zeki started playing princes and princesses among the pillows, her thoughts drifted to the disastrous conversation with Mr. Walters on the phone the day prior. She hadn't yet received the confirmation email he said she'd receive but she still had roughly a day or so before she had to follow up.

Iron Man was Eliza's first choice of hero to contact for Jeremy and Zeki's shared wish of 'meeting a superhero' because of Jeremy's absolute adoration for the hero as well as the hero's very public identity. Zeki hadn't really shown a preference for any hero in particular as he reacted with the same vigorous energy to all the heroes when she'd asked and when they came on tv. So as long as they were in their suits, he'd be happy.

Getting in touch with the heroes was the biggest hurdle that Eliza had to face, made only slightly easier by the fact that Stark Industries had made a public method of setting up fundraising or social events. She'd seen pictures of Mr. Stark in his Iron Man suit taking publicity shots with people, both adults and kids, at other hospitals around the country, sometimes even the world, and she figured it would have been easy to get through to the self proclaimed Philanthropist. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Steve Rogers, Captain America, was also contactable through Stark Industries according to their website, but she didn't hold out much hope for reaching him if she couldn't get past the first stage of reaching Iron Man.

How was she even supposed to get in touch with another hero? It's not like all the heroes essentially had a hotline to contact them for meet and greets.

A tug on her shirt pulled her out of her thoughts and she looked down again at Jeremy, only to have his phone jammed in her face in his excitement.

'Spiderman was with Iron Man Yesterday in New York! There were super cool pictures and videos on Youtube of them fighting the big robot! Iron Man got really close and Spider Man even ran right past! They're so cool!'

Eliza raised her eyebrows in surprise, "When did this happen? I didn't hear about any fights that the Avengers were called to over the weekend." Though, I was working for half of it trying to get in touch with said hero and then staring despondently at Netflix for the rest of it when I couldn't.

After a few moments of typing, he replied. 'Saturday!! I can show you the video'

At Eliza's nod, he started searching YouTube for it. She took a moment to glance again at Zeki and Carly who were still playing Princes and Princesses. They'd moved from playing hide-and-seek through the castle to a royal tea party in the main room on the 'second floor' (i.e. on the bed rather than the floor).

It didn't take long before Jeremy had found his video and her attention was brought back to him.

It was a very shaky shot at first, all blurred and out of focus. It was equally likely that the cameraman was either in a rush to get away from the danger, or in a hurry to catch some of the action (self preservation more often than not came after taking the chance to catch the action for the chance of a viral video of the heroes). After a few seconds of the of the blurred sidewalk, the camera's view shifted to a smoky version of the New York skyline, with Stark Tower reaching towards the sky and the Empire State Building in the distance. Rubble from nearby buildings littered the roads and people took shelter in various shops, nooks, and crannies around the street for what seemed to be an almost monthly occurrence at this point.

For a moment, the only sounds that could be made out were voices calling out to take cover or directions for the closest shelter, but then a low whine could be heard getting louder. The camera turned towards the sound and a dark spot in the sky could be seen getting larger, presumably as whatever it was got closer and closer coming from the direction of Stark Tower.

Suddenly, a loud crack and groan drew the cameraman's attention to the right, causing the camera to jostle and then move in that direction. The crack had been from the impact of a large body being thrown into a mess of steel frames outlining a construction site, which, by itself, was disturbing enough despite it having reptilian features and being almost twice the size of a human. Anything described as reptilian while being the size that it was had no business being in this century, let alone taking down construction sites.

As soon as the figure was there, it was gone. A brief shout from the cameraman and a pan to the left showed it had been yanked away and stuck to a wall across the street by what appeared to be a spider's web. A blue and red clad figure swung through the air in the direction of the disturbing lizard-man.

The camera was able to get a surprisingly good view of the swinging form as it passed. For the briefest of moments, it captured the black webbed pattern through the red and blue, and even managed to pick up a few fuzzy tears in the fabric wear blood seeped through. Again, almost as soon as the figure was there, it was gone, swinging up to meet the bad guy of the day head on.

Right behind him, a reddish-gold blur followed, streaking through the air and leaving a trail of smoke behind it. It went by too fast to get a good look at it, but as it got closer to Spider Man and the lizard-man on the side of the structure, it slowed down enough to make out the shape of a very humanoid robot.

The video ended on a frame of Spider Man swinging through the air just as the lizard-man broke free and launched himself up and into the air, Iron Man close behind the newer hero and ready to lend a hand.

It was still quite grainy but a really picturesque screenshot nonetheless and Eliza figured it would be used as a lock screen by many of the superheroes' fans around the world.

Ironman’s assistance brought up a question that she had actually been meaning to find out.

"Does this mean that Spider Man's an Avenger?" She asked the little fan.

After some frantic typing, Jeremy answered, 'No, he just stays in New York. Iron Man offered but he said no :('. At this, Eliza just hummed.

Then, an idea.

New York was Spider Man's base of operations? Perfect.

She'd just found her next contact.

------------------

Her Friday morning found her on a bus to New York City.

The trip to New York was a long and tedious one.

The bus routes from New Jersey to Manhattan were all painfully convoluted and each had their fair share of congestion issues so the total trip took 3 bus changes and roughly five and a half hours.

She'd planned on arriving at the city midmorning so that she'd have a greater chance to walk around and spot the vigilante throughout the day, but she ended up arriving after lunch thanks to a particularly nasty pile up on the freeway just outside the city.

Tumbling out of the bus, she thanked whatever god was around that day that the ride was finished.

She had just spent four and a half hours, shoved right next to a guy who looked like he had spent a night out on the town and smelt of piss, vomit and other bodily fluid she really didn't want to think about. To make it worse, the woman in front of her turned out to be a very loud Karen who had decided that this was to be the bus trip where it would be most beneficial to inform everyone in her general vicinity of the conspiracy theories she had heard of recently. God forbid anyone try to correct her though. Oh no, that would send her on a rant lasting another one of the four hours they were all stuck together and Eliza prayed fervently that no one made that mistake again.

Then, she started to declare that she was being discriminated against because the elderly woman in one of the front rows didn't give Karen the seat and the lady 'had a walker with her so surely she could sit on that!'.

Frick that lady.

Anyway, thankfully that ride from hell was over.

Standing in the middle of the bustling New York sidewalk, however, she realised that she forgot to think of a very important detail.

She had no idea how exactly she was going to go about contacting Spiderman.

Theoretically, she knew that he stayed around the queens area, but that only narrowed it down to about a hundred square miles of the city.

Thankfully her last bus had taken her right into the centre of Queens so she decided to wander around for a bit at least. She hadn't been to New York city before so she figured she'd do a bit of sight seeing and hope to see Spidey at some stage.

This method proved to be enjoyable for a time, and she had great fun taking pictures of 'Queens: Home of the Amazing Spiderman'. However, after three hours of seeing the sights but not seeing any signs of Spider Man, she was starting to get a bit antsy.

She had realised before she'd even set out that she most likely wouldn't see him on the first day, after all it was barely four o'clock in the afternoon and she was pretty certain he had a day job that took up his daylight hours. She'd hyped herself up for the encounter for most of the day though, and it was still a bit of a disappointment regardless of the logic.

Six hours of wandering later she admitted defeat. Friday was a bust, but she had high hopes for the weekend.

Sadly, Saturday turned out similarly to the previous day; some lovely sightseeing and tourist opportunities she hadn't had time for the previous day and no Spidey sighting. She had tried asking people around the area if they knew how or where she could find Spiderman but they'd mostly given her a brief, very judgy, once-over and a very generalised 'He sticks to Queens mostly.', or 'he's usually out around this time.', or the most useful one of all; 'if you need him, he'll find you.'

She couldn't say she blamed them for being hesitant to explain. She was a somewhat short, gangly, woman, who looked more like a teenager with her scruffy backpack and wide rimmed glasses than her actual 22 years, and very obviously not from New York. Hell, the locals probably got fangirls that looked similar to her looking for Spiderman on a weekly basis.

Honestly, she admired their loyalty to their local vigilante, it just made it a bit more difficult to do what she came there for. She hadn't lasted 3 months, over 20 phone calls, an eternity on the bus ride from hell, and two days of wandering around, just to be stumped by some city searching though, so she marched on.

It was late Sunday afternoon and many glances down suspicious alleyways later that Eliza had a breakthrough in her search for the local vigilante. It came in the form of a group of drunk guys and an ignored catcall (which the aforementioned drunk guys apparently took as a challenge).

She hadn't thought much of just ignoring the tottering group as she'd passed them, it was after all an unfortunately common experience and not the first time that day, let alone weekend. What wasn't a common experience, however, was the sound of uneven foot steps and increasingly boisterous attempts at getting her attention as she moved down the street.

It wasn't quite dark yet but it didn't take away from the rising sense of panic that sped up both her heartrate and her steps. Interestingly enough, her increased speed didn't deter the group, if anything it seemed to encourage them. She cursed her lack of knowledge of the area, avoiding looking at Google maps in order to keep her eyes on her environment.

After a few blocks of power walking, an ill-timed red light and road work stopped her in her tracks and allowed the group to catch up with her.

"Heey girl!" One drawled. "Come on, we just wanna say hi."

His friend stumbled along beside him slurring "Yeah, why ya gotta be so ru-ude? Juss' tryna give a compl'm-nt!" He hiccoughed and slumped just a bit more on another in the group.

She kept her eyes trained forward, directed to the traffic light but just out of focus enough to observe the drunken antics on her peripheral. She knew New York city was famous for its creeps but this was getting out of hand. Just the situation she was hoping to avoid; Alone at night with a group of men following her.

Sure, Spider Man patrolled this area, but she'd seen neither hide nor hair – nor web – of the guy in the days she'd been here and she wasn't too thrilled about putting her safety on the line to just have a slim chance of seeing him.

Her silence seemed to just egg the guys on, encouraging them to get closer and more obnoxious. What had previously been at a distance was now up close and within reach. Her hands tightened on her bag straps and her breath stuttered as she noticed their movements tilting towards her, stopping just short of actually touching.

Everything was just slightly out of focus as the sun was almost completely gone by now, leaving only the glow of the street lights and the pin-pricked lights of the passing cars to provide an eerie illumination of her entourage. It put her on edge more than it would have in the daylight, even if there were just as many people lining the street. No one had come to her aid, and most likely wouldn't have in the daylight either, so she resigned herself to tensely waiting for the change of traffic signal. The feeling of hyperawareness was a feeling that would linger and probably leave her too agitated to sleep that night.

"C'mon girl!" A third guy crooned patronisingly, propping his drooping friend up from a stumble. "Just give us a smile!"

Just to spite him, she scowled.

"Awww! Look! She can hear us!" Another hollered. "Smile! C'mon, smile! You'd look soooo much prettier! At leeast say hellloooo!"

The beeping of the crosswalk signal was her saviour in that moment and as soon as she heard it, she was off, practically jogging across the road. Unfortunately, that just happened to be the moment that someone decided that they were above the road rules for driving and that they needed to run a red light. Directly towards the crosswalk she was running across.

She was two steps off the sidewalk and mid-step when she heard a scream behind her and caught a brief glimpse of headlights to her left before she realised her mistake. Years of listening to her mother drill into her to look both directions before crossing the road flashed in her mind.

Everything seemed to fall into slow motion as she turned her head towards the light, the dark shadow behind the lights loomed closer and closer. She felt her eyes widen and her foot move through the air as if through molasses for split second and she had only a moment before a thought flashed through her mind.

Well...damn.

A sudden weight crashing into her diaphragm punched the air from her lungs and caused her head to snap forward and her legs to trail in her wake as she flew through the air. She instinctively shut her eyes and tensed at the impact, the pain from the car taking a moment to register to her shocked mind, though the wind at her back as she flew through the air was mildly soothing. She was pretty sure that when she crashed into the ground, the pain would come through and be even worse.

A few seconds passed and, when she didn't feel the jagged impact on the ground and the wind continued to whistle past her ears and whip up her hair into what was going to be a definite birds nest, she realised that the impact she had felt wasn't the front bumper of a car but instead an arm. It was an arm that had apparently swung out of nowhere and was still wrapped securely around her torso as it, or rather they, swung through the air and away from the middle of the street she was nearly flattened in.

She looked down at the arm and saw a sliver of red and blue...just before her eyes noted the fact that they were approximately four to five storeys above the ground and going faster than the cars below them. She would have screamed but her breath caught in her throat as they started dropping and getting closer and closer to the pavement below so she contented herself with clutching at the only lifeline she had. She briefly hoped that she hadn't left finger shaped bruises on her saviour's arm in her panic (as she was sure that would be poor rescue etiquette) but she realised later that, considering he dealt with troublemakers such as the Rhino and Electro, bruises would most likely be fine, if not non-existent.

As they swung, she could faintly hear a consistent stream of chatter coming from behind her. The voice sounded young, excited and carefree.

"It's ok ma'am, I got you. Just hold on and we'll be on the ground before you know it." He whooped when they crested another swing - contrasting her own urge to either puke or scream - and continued the stream of babble as the wind rushed past her ears. She thought she heard a few questions, but she didn't answer on account of the mild terror thrumming through her veins.

They touched down in front of a well lit strip mall surprisingly lightly considering they were going over 30 miles an hour less than a minute beforehand. Eliza was glad for the iron grip maintaining its hold on her after their landing as she knew she would be a shaky puddle on the floor had she been placed down and let go of immediately. She locked her knees to prevent them from crumpling and took a moment to breathe and mentally kiss the ground beneath her.

The arm around her slowly pulled away when she stayed standing so she slowly turned around to make eye contact with her rescuer. Well... Eye-to-mask eye contact. Her heart practically beat out of her chest from nerves and whether it was because of the drunk guys, the near death experience, or from simply meeting one of the famous heroes, she wasn't sure. Truth be told, the combination of all three would probably give her a heart attack if she took the time to think about it.

She had barely turned around before she was being spoken to by the figure in the famous red and blue costume, his hands coming up to steady her as she stumbled back slightly from being closer then she'd thought.

"Oh my gosh! That was a close one! That car came out of nowhere, are you ok?" She nodded, tongue still stuck on the roof of her mouth, not that it seemed to matter to the superhero. He seemed pretty content to talk a million miles an hour even without her input. "You look alright. I mean, the swinging can be a bit terrifying the first time you do it, but better that than being hit by the car." The eyes on his mask narrowed a bit and he tilted his head slightly to the side. "Actually, you look a bit pale and Karen says yo-I mean, I think you might be going into shock. Here sit down for a bit."

She was gently nudged to a set of stairs and she sat down gratefully.

"Thanks Spider Man." She sighed and relaxed as much as she could onto the cold concrete.

"No problem!" He replied. She couldn't really tell because of his mask, but it sounded like he was grinning.

"Bloody hell." Eliza sighed again, dropping her head into her hands and resting her elbows on her knees. "That's the last time I cross the road without looking, even if I do need to get away from creeps."

"Yeah, checking the road is always a good idea." Spider Man agreed. "As for the creeps, you could try carrying around some pepper spray?" She snorted.

"Yeah, like looking down and rummaging through my bag is a good idea when surrounded. Aren't you supposed to suggest I keep my eyes and ears alert, avoid badly lit locations, and always walk with a friend?"

Now it was his turn to splutter. "W-well yeah... I guess that would kinda defeat the purpose of keeping your eyes on your surroundings." He scratched his head almost sheepishly before continuing, his tone turning fervent. "It is useful if you happen to be able to get it though! I once saw this lady spray this guy in the face and he was still rolling on the ground after I came back to check on him after I walked the lady home! I didn't realise how useful the pepper sprays were until that day!"

Eliza could only grin at his earnestness. She could already feel the erratic beat of her heart calm into a more sedate pace and her breathing even out as they spoke. It was great to see someone trying their best to help and give advice on staying safe, all hints of superiority absent in his tone.

"If you're feeling better, would you like me to walk you home?" He asked suddenly. The offer made Eliza release some extra tension she didn't realised she still had.

She nodded. "That would be great actually. I'm staying in a hotel somewhere around here."

"Cool, I can definitely take you back!" He was already standing and excitedly bouncing. Geez, he had a lot of energy. "What hotel are you staying in?" When she told him, he nodded again. "Ok, that's not far from here. Do you feel alright enough to start walking?"

"Sure. I could do with a really hot bath right about now." Eliza said, taking Spider Man's hand he offered as she spoke. She idly ran her hand through her tangled hair. "And a brush by the feels of it."

Spider Man laughed and they started walking down the street.

"So where are you from?" He asked.

"I'm visiting from New Jersey." She paused, realising suddenly that this is her chance. She took a deep breath. "I, uh, actually came to New York to find out if you could help me with something." Spider Man turned to her and with his face covered she couldn’t tell if he wanted her to continue or not. So she too another breath and continued anyway. "You see, I've been trying to get in touch with a superhero, any superhero, for a few months now and I haven't had any luck. I've met you though today so... yay!" Jazz hands added for good measure. "I could have done without the almost-getting-run-over part, but hey, if it means I get to finally ask you about seeing the kids then I'll take it I suppose."

She really could have done without the 'almost getting assaulted and then flattened' part of the evening but considering he hadn't outright declined immediately, she was counting it as a win.

He continued to stare at her, making Eliza desperate for a verbal response as she could not read his reactions with his bloody mask on. "Well, it'll depend what it is. If you want my help to take over the world, I'm sorry, but you'll have to find someone else." He said playfully. Eliza laughed, almost in relief.

"No nothing like that." She said waving her hand. "Just want some help making a couple of kids' remaining years enjoyable." At this, Spider Man seemed to take more of a keen interest so she elaborated. "I work with the Make-A-Wish Foundation and I have a couple of kids who would love to meet a superhero." Her tone had turned soft as it usually did when she was talking about the kids.

He seemed to perk up even more, if that was even possible. "Oh really? That's so cool! I mean, it's really cool that you thought of me! I'd love to meet the kids! I'd have to run it by Mr. Sta- I mean, Tony, but it should be fine!" He was almost shaking now and she could practically see the excitement rolling off him in waves. When his words registered though, she couldn't help but sag a little in relief.

"Awesome. It's been a long few days." she said with a chuckle, rubbing her temples while trying to keep her eyes on him just in case he disappeared. "You're really hard to find."

Spiderman tilted his head to the side as they walked, "Really? I thought there was, like, an Instagram or Facebook page following me?" He said, making it sound more like a question than a statement. Eliza stared at him for a moment and he rubbed his head. "I can't remember if there's a twitter page, but I know for certain that there's an Instagram page that likes to keep up with me and they do a surprisingly good job of it too." Eliza mentally facepalmed. Of course social media would have the answers. Spidey fans have some of the best content and the most up-to-date info on their hero (second only to Tony Stark and that's only because Mr. Stark's been around longer and is a literal billionaire) since the Friendly Neighbourhood Spiderman is so directly active in his community.

"Oh. Right. I completely forgot about that." Came her tired sigh. "Geez, I feel like such a failure of a millenial. I mean, what kind of millennial forgets about bloody Twitter and Instagram?"

Spider Man laughed quietly, "It's fine. I know a few people at sc-work... who aren't on social media. Not many, but a few." After a moment, he asked, "So what are the kids like? Is Spider Man their favourite Superhero? I know I'm only kind of an Avenger, so it's cool they want to meet me!"

She snorted, "Are you kidding? Only 'kind of an Avenger'? Your battle last week with the lizard guy was on Youtube and you were working so well with Iron Man! One of the kids was practically vibrating out of his seat in excitement when he was showing me."

"Oh, you mean the one with both Mr. Stark and me going past? Yeah, that was a pretty good shot of us, we looked so cool at the end, it even stopped on a cool pose!"

As he continued enthusiastically, Eliza giggled. He almost reminded her of some of the kids. Energetic, easy to entertain and constantly bouncing between topics. Idly, she wondered how old Spider Man was. He didn't sound much older than her, and his energy....

"You know, Mr. Stark might be interested in meeting them too. I know he goes to a lot of charity functions." Eliza thought she heard him mumble, "He sure complains about them often enough." But she wasn't sure.

The comment made her crash back into the present. She felt her shoulders slump.

"Yeah. I tried getting in touch with him through the Maria Stark Foundation, but it didn't work out."

Spider Man seemed to frown at her tone, made obvious only by the slight narrowing of his eye lens things. "Really? How come?"

Sighing, she recounted her long and overly complicated phone journey through the bureaucratic chain of the Maria Stark Foundation and Stark Industries, followed by her brief but greatly disappointing interaction with Mr. Michael Walters. She was pretty positive this was going well and she could see her hotel across the street now so she let herself relax a bit. Suddenly feeling drained and really tired, she had to stop herself from stumbling the last of the distance to the building.

"I mean, it's understandable I suppose, the security that is. I get that Mr. Stark has a lot of enemies and I want what's best for the kids, so the safer the better." As she finished, she realised she probably sounded a bit whiny to one of the superheros that the safety protocols directly affected. At this point of the night however, she didn't have it in her to care all that much, not to mention, Spider Man was nodding encouragingly beside her. "At the same time though, I'm on a...bit of a time limit, you could say."

"What do you mean?"

"It's just, one of the kids I'm organising the meeting for has a progressive illness and, to be honest..." She paused, sadness filling her as she fiddled with the frayed end of her jacket's sleeve.

They'd come up to the main entrance to her hotel by now and she momentarily contemplated if it was really a good idea to bring it up, but she was fast running out of fucks to give and desperately wanted something good to come out of this hell-trip, "it's just...not very likely he'd make it the 18 months Mr. Walters said we had to wait. If anything, we're not sure if he'll make it to the end of this month."

Silence.

She looked at him and she saw him staring at her, lenses wide and standing eerily still beside her, his head cocked to the side.

After a moment, all he said was, "You know what? I'll talk to Mr. Stark. I'll see what we can do." And he swung away. Staring at the empty space beside her, it took a second for her to realise she was suddenly alone again. She hadn't even given him her number.

Still in shock and with fatigue starting to sit heavily on her bones, she shook herself and made her way toward the door, numbly figuring she was going to have to think of a different way to meet another superhero.

Eliza only had to wait two days before her life-risking journey paid off.

#tpromptsachallenge #my writing #To Grant a Wish #part 1

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waywardnerd67 · 5 years

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Mr. Fix It

Title: Mr. Fix It Square Filled: Neighbor Pairing: Jared x Reader Characters: Jared Padalecki, Reader Warnings: Fluff/Smut/Mild Spanking (for those who may not be into that) Summary: Jared offers to help fix up his new neighbor’s house including helping her put her brand new bed together. Word Count: 2309 Created for: @spnkinkbingo

Check Out: SPN Kink Bingo 2.0 Masterlist

Jared had spent his first week off from filming watching his new neighbor move into the house across from his. It was quite the fixer upper for someone who was seemingly living by herself. When his co-star and best friend, Jensen had come over to encouraged Jared to go over and introduce himself. Jared was always weary about putting himself out there never knowing who was a fan or not.

He looked out to see her trying to fix her mailbox. Chuckling he grabbed his post digger out of the garage and walked across the street. “Hi there.”

She looked up with the most gorgeous (Y/C/E) eyes and her (Y/C/H) was pulled back short strands falling down in front of her face. “Hi, you must be the actor.” She said holding out her hand, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Jared. Which one of our neighbors ratted me out?” he asked as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

“Mrs. Heggins down the street. She invited me over for dinner and gave me all the scoop on everyone. You’re the handsome actor who is hardly ever home and when you are you tend to keep to yourself.” (Y/N) smiled as Jared ran his hand through his long hair.

He stepped beside her taking her shovel away and began pushing his post digger into the ground, “I guess that is accurate, except the handsome part maybe. I saw you struggling out here, so I decided to break my hermetic living to come help you out.”

“My hero.” She said stepping out of his way.

Jared and (Y/N) ended up talking and working for the whole afternoon. Her house truly needed a lot of work and he volunteered himself to help out whenever his schedule permitted it. By the time, the moon was high in the dark sky Jared was pooped not remembering the last time he had done so much physical labor.

“I cannot thank you enough for helping me today. I think you really are my hero.” She handed him the last tool for his box and he latched it closed.

They exchanged phone numbers while he was looking at his schedule on his phone, “I will come over next week once I’m back from my conventions to help you out some more.” He grabbed he things starting to walk down her driveway.

She called out to him from her garage, “Thank you again and I agree with Mrs. Heggins about the handsome part.”

He turned around seeing her grinning as her garage door closed. Jared had a wide smile on his own face that did not go away the whole time he was gone for work. The whole time he was gone they texted with one another getting to know each other. He enjoyed chatting with her and his entire Supernatural family could tell a huge difference in him.

“Jared, I don’t know what is going on but whatever has change keep that in your life. You just seem so happy this week.” Kim Rhodes mentioned as he sat backstage for the Saturday Night Concert.

Jensen chuckled, “He met a girl and is helping her move furniture around her house.”

Jared threw a wadded up napkin at his best friend feeling his cheeks burning slightly. Honestly, he could not wait to get back home to see her, but everything seemed too good to be true. One thing he learned early in life was if it sounded too good then it probably was.

When Clif dropped him off at his house there was a small basket on his front porch. It was filled with snacks and a bottle of whiskey along with a broken mallet. Picking it up he walked inside seeing there was also a note in the basket.

“Glad you’re back! I’ll provide dinner and whiskey if you will come put my bed together. I tried to do it myself and I somehow broke my hammer. Help a poor girl out. Thanks! –(Y/N).” Jared laughed looking down at the mallet again.

He took a quick shower and grabbed the bottle of whiskey heading over to (Y/N)’s house. Upon knocking on her door, he could hear her cursing loudly before yelling, “Come on in!”

Her voice sounded like it was coming from the lower level of the house, “Where are you?” he called out walking through towards her kitchen.

“Downstairs fighting with my god forsaken bed frame!” Jared chuckled walking down the stairs to find (Y/N) glaring down on the offense furniture.

Her entire lower level was made into a master bedroom suite that even made him jealous. “Wow this is the largest bedroom I’ve ever been in.”

(Y/N) chuckled walked over to the make shift table holding her glass of whiskey. “Yeah I know. I debated on if I should take the master bedroom on the main floor or come down here.”

She poured him a glass of his own handing it to him, “So what was the deciding factor?” he asked.

“Honestly? If I ever have kids I want them to have the room on the second floor and then the master bedroom be used for a guest room. That way the guest can have their own bathroom and space. Also, if I decided to be extra loud then this room is pretty sound proof.” She said then covered her mouth.

Jared started laughing as her cheeks turned pink, “Loud huh?” he asked making her bury her face in her hand.

“I may have had a few whiskeys before you arrived making my filter broken tonight.” He grinned down at her setting his glass on the table.

“It’s alright, I’m glad to know I can basically ask you anything and get an honest answer out of you.” He headed over to the pieces of her bed frame looking over everything.

(Y/N) sat down out of the way watching him, “Yep! No better truth serum than Jack.”

Slowly Jared started moving parts around and building her frame up. She would help by grabbing tools for him or holding a piece in place. After two hours and a bottle of Jack, her bed was all set up ready for her to sleep in. Looking down at his phone he saw it was past midnight as she flopped down onto her mattress.

“Ah… this feels so good.” She moaned as Jared held his breath swallowing the groan that tried to escape.

Seeing her sprawled out across the bed with her shorts riding up her slender legs and tank top just barely covering her breasts had his shorts feeling a little more snug than normal. She looked up at him waving for him to come closer.

“Come on, test it out. You earned laying on here more than me.” She patted the bed next her as he cautiously laid down next to her.

The mattress was ridiculously comfortable. He could not help but think about the fact that the frame and mattress were so solid it would take a lot of movement to move either of them. The thought of testing his theory out had him sitting up quickly so she would not see the bulge in his shorts. Jared looked over catching a glimpse of her tank top riding up her stomach as she stretched further over the bed.

When he glanced up to her eyes he knew you had been caught looking at her. Turning his head, he chuckled, “Sorry can’t help it. I’m a typical dude.”

“I don’t mind. I’ve been eyeing you all night as you worked on my bed.” Her confession made his heart thumb against his chest.

(Y/N) sat up placing her arms around his neck and straddling his lap. She bit her lower lip looking away from him slightly, “All I’ve been thinking about is how I want to test out my new bed with you.”

Jared ran his hands up her thighs gripping them as he rested his forehead against hers, “Me too.” He whispered as she looked up at him.

There was a brief moment of tension between them before their lips collided together. Jared hands went up the back of her tank top pulling it off with ease. He wrapped his arms around her rolling her onto her back. He stood up pulling his shirt over his head as (Y/N) unhooked her bra tossing it on the floor. Seeing her perfect breasts, he leaned down capturing one her nipples gently between his teeth.

“Oh shit…” she called out pressing herself further against his mouth.

One of her hands slid down his abs and over his hard length stroking him through his shorts. Groaning against her breast she pushed him slightly off of her surprising him. “Get your fine ass naked and in my bed now.”

Jared laughed as he watched her pulled down her shorts and panties down her legs. “Fuck.” He whispered seeing her spread her legs for him giving a full view of how wet she was for him.

He quickly pulled his own shorts and boxers down his cock springing out seemingly drawn to her naturally. (Y/N) licked her lips as he stroked himself a couple of times before she patted her mattress, “Lay down.”

He did watching as she straddled his face her hand slowly running down his long shaft. Wrapping his hands around her thighs he pulled her slick lips down to his mouth lapping at her wetness. “Good god I knew that mouth would be amazing.” She mumbled against his thigh.

Then it was his turn to feel how wonderful her mouth was as she slowly sunk down on his cock. He groaned loudly into mound tightening his grip on her legs. When she came back up with a pop she pushed herself up slightly grinding against his face. “Fuck Jared, just like that.” She moaned caressing his cock with both her hands.

She leaned down taking him in her mouth again spreading her legs a little wider for him. When her hand fondled his sack, he took his mouth off her, “Shit you keep doing that I’m going to come sooner than I want.”

He pulled her back down on his mouth as she sat up bracing herself on his thighs. “God Jared, I’m so close.” He pressed his tongue flat against her clit before sucking it hard feeling her body shaking as she came.

“FUCK JARED!” she cried out lowering her head next to his cock breathing heavily as she placed small kissed along his length.

She got off of him getting on all fours next to him. (Y/N) wiggled her butt as he moved behind her. She moved closer to the headboard pressing her palms flat against it as she stuck her ass further in the air. He ran his hand over one of her cheeks wanting so badly to smack it.

“Go on, I know you want too.” She said looking over her shoulder smiling.

It was in that moment that Jared knew some higher power had created her just for him. There was no way he met her by chance. It was all a greater scheme of the Universe putting them together. He run his hand over her cheek again then drew back smacking it hard. (Y/N) let out a yelp followed by a deep groan. “Again.”

Jared did it a few more times until she was panting, and her ass was red. Taking his length in his hand he ran it along her slit until he slowly pushed inside of her. “Holy fuck Jared.” She cried out as he buried himself deep in her.

He hardly moved letting her get used to him and when she started to move along his cock on her own he straighten up watching her take his cock over and over. (Y/N) let him slip out moving closer to the head board and he followed her grabbing her hips slamming into her.

“Yes!” she yelled as she lifted herself up holding onto the head board.

Jared watching as she slammed herself back on him repeatedly. He held her hips to keep her in place and started meeting her thrusts. He was so close to coming and could feel she was close as well. He reached around her his fingers gliding over her sensitive clit. The sound of their skin smacking against one another filled the entire room followed by her crying out his name as she came.

Feeling her clench all around him had him pulling out of her quickly jerking his own release over her ass. He was panting hard stroking his length until every drop of his release was out of him. (Y/N) laid down on her stomach as he got up grabbing his shirt to clean them both up.

“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Congratulations, you have ruined all other men for me. You’re officially are stuck with me now.” She joked rolling over to her side to look up at him.

Even though he knew she was joking something about what she said gave him a comfort that he had never felt before. He shrugged tossing his shirt back on the floor, “I’m okay with that if you are.”

Her shining (Y/C/E) eyes stared into his searching to see if he was being serious or not. When a small, bashful smile crossed her face she pulled back the covers crawling under them. “Well then come on Mr. Fix It, I want to sleep before we go test out some more of my furniture upstairs.”

Jared laughed crawling into bed next to her pulling her body against his. “I was being serious, you know.” He whispered against her neck.

“I know. So was I about being stuck with me and the furniture.” Her laughter was the last thing he heard before falling into the best sleep of his life.

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

My Nerd Herd: @waywardbaby @ladywinchester1967 @akshi8278 @ericaprice2008 @mirandaaustin93 @spnbaby-67 @1967-essentialghoul @dean-winchesters-bacon @-lovepeacenhope- @destiel745 @carribear31 @srsllydunnodoncare @whimsicalrobots @thisismysecrethappyplace @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @adoptdontshoppets @mrswhozeewhatsis @bella-ca @drakelover78 @imascio08 @pisces-cutie @dwgrl1903 @mannls @the-salty-asian @winchesterprincessbride @xostephanie @superromijn @witch-of-letters @time-travel-bouqet @screechingartisancashbailiff @myinconnelly1 @sister-winchesters99 @thekatherinewinchester @babykalika2001 @maddiepants @tumbler-tidbits @sandlee44 @destielhoneybee @carryonmywaywardcaptain

#spnkinkbingo #mr. fix it #jared padalecki fanfiction #jared padalecki fanfic #jared padalecki x reader #jared padalecki fluff #jared padalecki smut

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writingdotcoffee · 6 years

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#50: A novel in the making

Welcome to another Writing Update—a weekly journal where I document the ups and downs of my writing life. It’s been almost a year since I started writing my current work-in-progress novel. It seems appropriate to dedicate the 50th post in this series to the story and what I’ve learned in the process.

A little more than a year ago, an idea for a fast-paced scene with an ensemble cast started floating in my head. I was flirting with another project at the time, and so I didn’t pay too much attention to it. Every time I dismissed it, the idea came back to nag a little more. I wasn’t entirely convinced that I was ready to start writing the other project I was researching, and so I finally conceded: I would write a fast-paced 20,000-word novella to clear my mind.

I started outlining, fleshing out the details. The scene in my mind was quite climactic, and, to write it, I felt like I needed to understand where these people came from and why they were doing it. A few weeks of work later, I had a story that didn’t only satisfy my curiosity. This is more than enough for a novel, I thought.

I was excited, but facing a dilemma: should I abandon the previous project to work on this expanded novella outline that I just stitched together? I wanted to write something with a speculative element to it which didn’t fit into this new project. After some deliberation, I decided to go for it.

I started writing the next day—15 August 2017.

The First Draft

The first days were a bit erratic as I was finding my stride. At around chapter three, I got into a routine and spent the next four months grinding one chapter after the other, writing to a goal of 6,000 words per week.

Now, I’m by no means a fast writer. The strenuous schedule took its toll, and by November, I was not only behind, but also exhausted. For the first time in years, I stopped posting on this blog just so that I could focus entirely on the draft.

Fortunately, I took V.E. Schwab’s advice and wrote the beginning first, then jumped to the ending, leaving the middle to be filled in last. I liked the ending way too much to have the heart to abandon the project. So I doubled down and typed the last words on a murky Saturday afternoon a month later — 16 December 2017. 51 chapters, 95,000 words.

Lessons learned: Word goals are essential. Pushing yourself through the first draft does work (subject to health & safety, of course).

The Winter Crisis

I listened to Stephen King’s famous recuperation advice and put the damn thing away for six weeks before editing. I celebrated Christmas by writing a few random short stories and spent January recovering. But then February came along, and I wasn’t feeling like going back to the project. Even just reading it was torture. I just didn’t want to. Resistance was having the better of me.

It took me a full month to read the thing cover to cover. In the end, I produced about 35 pages of mostly sarcastic notes of what was wrong with it. In retrospect, it would’ve been easier to make notes of what I liked instead. Characters disappeared, there were plot holes. Most chapters suffered from the lack of proper structure. But it wasn’t all just epic fails. I liked the character dynamics at the beginning and the big climactic scene at the end. It had potential.

Lesson learned: next time, I won’t wait that long before editing.

With that information, I bought a stack of index cards and re-outlined the project. My fear that I would end up scrapping the whole thing proved unfounded. I dropped 4 chapters and added 6 new ones. Out of 51, that wasn’t so catastrophic after all.

I compiled character sheets for every significant character, wrote the new chapters and was ready for the next step.

Lessons learned: Having an outline doesn’t mean that you can’t change a thing later on. Conversely, you can happily start writing even if you don’t have every single detail figured out up front. Everyone has a sweet spot between freewheeling and total control. You’ll find yours through experience.

The Rewrite

In May, I went all the way back to chapter one and started a sequential rewrite. I keep two documents open, and I’m restructuring each chapter to make it more engaging. Some chapters are good as they are, others need a major facelift. I look at things like tension and pacing. I’m doing much more characterisation.

At the time of writing, I’m about 60% done. All I can say is that this has been the most difficult and yet the most exhilarating part of the process so far. It’s hard to describe, but the writing is literally coming alive.

I know it won’t be the final editing pass yet. There are still things to fix. But they’re getting smaller and smaller.

Lesson learned: It will take much longer than you think. And that’s ok.

The Future

If you asked me a year ago whether I thought that I would be working on the same book today, I’d probably laugh and say something evasive. In my mind though, I’d think that you’re insane. A year on the same project? Don’t be silly.

When you’re in the trenches, doing the work every day, it seems inconceivable that a year later, you could find yourself at the very same desk and not be done. Some authors take 10 years to write each of their books. But every time you read a story like that you’re thinking, God, I hope that won’t be me.

Well, now I’m the silly one. But I don’t regret a minute that I spent working on this project. It taught me so much not only about writing and storytelling. Finally, after almost a year, I’m convinced that this was the book that I was supposed to write.

A day will come when I will finish this novel. I cannot wait to share it with you and the world.

Short Stories

I wrote a part of the sequel to The Dead Borough this week, but I didn’t have the time to finish it. It’s coming next week! Until then, check out part one:

SHORT STORY: The Dead Borough

I’m trying to set up the second in the series in a way that you can read it even if you haven’t read part one, but it will definitely be more enjoyable if you did.

Alternatively, here’s the one I published last week:

SHORT STORY: Beautiful Cadavers

What I am reading

I’m almost done with David Grann’s The Lost City of Z—a brilliant account of the life of a British explorer who disappeared without the trace in the Amazon while looking for evidence of an ancient civilisation that he believed could’ve developed in the depths of the jungle.

A masterfully told story. David Grann is a staff writer for The New Yorker who clearly spent decades honing his craft. Thumbs up!

Next, I’ll be picking up Charles Arthur’s Cyber Wars which I bought a few weeks ago in Cambridge.

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Past Editions

#49: A novel in the making, August 2018

#48: Plodding Along, July 2018

#47: The only way out is through, July 2018

#46: Deliberate practice, July 2018

#45: Us and them, July 2018

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novellacoronavirus · 4 years

Text

Saturday, 18.4.2020

Total: 2,263,056 cases, 154,827 deaths.

Australia: 6,565 cases, 69 deaths.

Western Australia: 544 cases, 7 deaths.

Oh, indeed it’s been quiet. The street upon which I live -- two lanes, urban -- is suddenly without the grind and gears of cars, white noise, hiss and sputter. Sirens have reduced. Even foot traffic and the sound of other humans: reduced. Instead I can hear -- actually hear -- the whisper of tree-branches quivering in the wind. And the chitter of birds, who now feel safe to roam and preen along this usually noxious street.

Work is also quiet. I am thankfully now on holidays. Without kids, the character of school has been unrecognisable: calm and still, but for the faint and soothing hum of air-conditioning -- of the building itself! -- which I heard as I tapped away on my keyboard, or drew an instructional image, or recorded a video on my own time, at my own pace, without interruption.

“Sir sir sir sir sir” -- all I usually hear, all day long. You cannot understand the relief I have with it suddenly gone. Do you -- or do you now have to work from home, with children squirming and squawking at your feet all day long? The arbitrariness of this whole thing is flabbergasting.

I thought we’d have six months of coronavirus quiet. But here in Australia the tone is becoming cautiously triumphant. People are out in the streets -- albeit quietly, in small groups, ‘exercising’. The gloom seems to have lifted. Although I’m sure we all secretly check the ‘corona count’ each morning and notice, with weird emotions, NYC’s numbers continuing to remain sky-high, literally orders of magnitude beyond Australia’s aggregate. Again we are saved by our geography, our interstitial luck down under.

Does anyone else feel disappointed? My friend E does: she said part of her was keen to witness “all the bloody carnage”. Part of this must be the impulse toward living through drama, witnessing history etc. Maybe it is just a polite way of saying “I want to go back and see the accident”. But this one has some political strings, doesn't it? Eventually it will be written about, remembered. They say to keep a diary -- anecdotal evidence. Which is what you’re reading.

During the pandemic, certain things have been delightfully and noticeably different: Advertisements have pivoted towards the sanguine -- “We’re all in this together”. We can of course see through the motives of these commercially-sponsored PSAs. But the tone, the modus operandi -- it’s a number of degrees different. There’s literally less for many -- most? -- people to do, so there’s less to navigate, negotiate, or with which to deal. There is less clutter. (I’ve been listening to album after album at home, all in their entireties, whilst painting, whilst writing, whilst reading.) I feel good.

Politics have changed. I’m not sure anyone expects this to last. But in Australia -- ‘coup capital of the democratic world’ for the past decade -- petty politicking has virtually stopped. Instead we have bipartisan agreements, quick legislation, the Opposition Leader stating “This is good legislation” of the Liberal Party’s stimulus packages. The bipartisanship has been astounding -- and for me, a 35-year-old politically-engaged Australian -- it’s been a first. I can’t believe it -- to think it took a pandemic. But will anything permanently change after the hibernation, or will business-as-usual prevail?

Trump is President of the free world. Authoritarian China is rising and indeed risen. Australia has a Prime Minister -- currently successfully leading us through a historical crisis -- who at some point in the past half-decade managed to take a lump of coal -- yes, a physical lump of coal -- into Australian Federal Parliament, to laugh and pantomime at those on the left or in the centre, as though to say ‘Oh, look at this scary piece of coal -- what threat is poses to us all!’ Imagine if Scotty-from-Marketing took the advice of climate scientists as seriously as he seems to have that of public-health experts. Is there not a howling incongruence to all of this?

This is the kind of status quo whence I was hoping for a change. The pandemic has personally galvanised me -- more energy, more purpose. It has helped me cut through years and years of chronic pain and significant pain-induced limits. My housemate says “remembering is the hardest part”. To her great disappointment, she claims her Spanish countryfolk -- big victims of the the GFC, unemployment and the government's corrupt austerity measures -- forgot very quickly. Straight back to the old normal of TV soap operas with wine at night. But am I alone in feeling the raw and real struggle of being alive through this? Do you not feel there is more thinking and less action -- or at least more bloviating, non-essential, circular thinking -- in normal life? Your schedule, your commitments, your finances. How do you go about forging a single fucking minute for yourself, on any given day?

What will a post-virus world look like? Already interesting discussions around surveillance have emerged: contract-tracing through a governmental phone app. This actually is a circuitbreaker: how will you react? Will you give it thought, engage, research? Will you be honest with yourself and all the data you already willingly hand over to the big, mono- or duopolistic tech companies? How is this different from a democratic government asking you to provide your whereabouts for a clear public-health measure, for the safety of all and health of the economy? Will recovered citizens be enlisted to work essential services, as the super-immune? Will Newstart remain Jobseeker forever, with its new level of payment? Will Biden beat Trump, and will it be in part due to the latter’s handling of the pandemic?

I guess things really are destined to change, or already have. My great disappointment at things returning to normal might itself be reactive. Maybe the changes will be discreet, tangible, slow-burning -- unlike the onset of all this. Maybe change isn’t always revolutionary, at least not in appearance.

This has not been a war -- years have not passed, the young and middling have been spared, we have all had water, heat and electricity and, if we are so lucky, the creature comforts of home. There has been no random nor political violence, along with its attendant fear. But I do hope the world doesn't just wake up to business as usual.

Perhaps I am most disappointed with the fact I won’t be continuing my own ‘coronavirus quiet’. As a teacher at a private school, it was possible students would withdraw their enrolment if the shutdown and its economy continued. This might eventually have meant the relinquishment or teachers. I thought this could have been a real possibility. Initially it was scary -- no one wants to lose their job. But then I considered it a bit longer: I have savings, the job might be waiting for me on the other side of the shutdown, I’d have a whole lot of time to do what I want. And what would I do?

The plan was to volunteer to step down from work under two provisions: 1) I be offered my job back the moment an opportunity opened up, 2) my manager provide me with a glowing reference should I end up needing a job someplace else. I think each of these were feasible. And what would I do at home?

I would take the JobSeeker payment of $1100/fortnight. I would live even more frugally than I currently do -- possible. I would pay off my mortgage for a while, see how it goes. If not well: I’d renegotiate my mortgage to interest-only payments for a while. I would cook, I would write, I would paint, I would arrange and make. I would talk to friends and family over the phone. And then cook more. I would actually get to sleep on time, without the need to check my phone. And I would awake fresh as a morning daisy, hopefully every day.

But if they’d have me, for three days a week I’d also volunteer. I would volunteer in the office of my local member of parliament: John Carey. A state MP, during this he has been posting daily photos of himself at various small businesses -- offering them support, drumming up business. When the pandemic first hit, he arranged for volunteers to support the elderly throughout his electorate: proxy shopping, welfare phone-calls etc. (Turns out everyone was already covered by neighbours and family -- a good sign.)

I don’t care what they may have put me to -- stapling things? Alphabetising items? It didn't matter. I just want a change. For a while I have thought the way might be to volunteer during my six-week annual summer holiday in the central office for the Greens. But my health, my hang-ups have stopped me. All it takes is for a measly pandemic to throw things around a bit.

Yet schools go back next term. Enrolments at my school probably won’t dip. Likely -- and thankfully for many, including a part of me -- it will be the great relief of Business as Usual. Will I have the chutzpah to forget my pain -- this really is all that’s stopping me -- and follow through on this strong desire to work in a different industry, in politics or social service of some sort?

And will anyone ever remember the pandemic, the quiet, the change. Will they remember The Hibernation -- the time and space to stop, and look, and think and feel. This is and has been such a unique opportunity to take stock. I can’t help but feel that here in Australia, we are so lucky and managed the whole thing so well that nothing much will change. Already PM Morrison has announced the way forward involves IR-reform and tax cuts. We’ve heard all this before. It’s the same old shit as the pre-virus world.

You might even call it an anticlimax.

#coronavirus #covid_19

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