#bubble o bill murray

[samthestrangerthingsfan]

Out of The Woods

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: Hawkins is home once again, and you're determined to keep your peace. The past comes calling.

chapter warnings: slow burn, motherhood, swearing, childhood trauma, fluff, sweet sweet memories and friends bonding again. <3

a/n: I don't want to give spoilers, but we may or may not have a run-in with a certain metal head in this chapter! :O (just a taste, a lil treat bc you've all been so good.)

chapter 3: Silver Springs || series masterlist

NOVEMBER 4th, 1983

Friday was the best day of the week.

Sure, weekends are great, but Friday night meant movie night at the Munson’s.

“You better not make her watching nothin’ scary, Edward.” Wayne huffed, grabbing his choice of cap from the wall, as well as big winter coat.

Eddie’s hand flew over his heart. “I would never! Not so close to the holidays!”

You threw a piece of popcorn at his head as the laughter bubbled from your chest. “Holidays? It’s not even Thanksgiving!” Eddie motions for you to keep throwing so he can catch one in his mouth. You oblige, but not without a protest of your own. “I would like—no, I demand a comedy.”

Eddie bowed to you, peering up and showing off the piece of popcorn he’d caught at the last second “What m’lady wants, she shall receive.”

The trailer door blew out of Wayne’s grip as he opened it, “Christ, it’s freezin’! Turn the heat on, boy. Your date is gonna freeze to death.”

Eddie gives you a knowing look. There’s no point, his eyes send the message loud and clear. The two of you have told Wayne dozens of times that you weren’t on dates, you were just best friends hanging out.

He didn’t buy it.

“Why does she get the heat? Pretty sure I got frost bite when I got outta the shower today.”

“Because,” Wayne slid his hands into a pair of work gloves as he walked toward you. “I like her and I want her to keep comin’ around.” He bent down, and kissed the crown of your head.

You protested, “I don’t wanna bug you—“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Eddie teased. “Ya know you say that a lot?”

“It’s the truth!”

“You could never bug me—ever. Even if you could, who cares? Not like it’s a bad, it’s a good bug you reserve just for me; my bug.”

Your eyes seemed to roll of their own free will, “Eddie.”

He dropped down next to you, putting a hand on your upper thigh as he offered you a twizzler. “Yes, Bug?”

Neither of you had noticed when exactly Wayne slipped out.

You’d compromised that night. Ghostbusters, a little something for the both of you.

About 30 minutes in, Eddie looked at you. He took in how you laughed at something Bill Murray said, how the sound bubbling from your chest made your nose crinkle.

God, he could listen to that sound all day.

When you turned to him, he panicked. Standing quickly, “Uh, shit…here,” he said, not knowing where the hell he was going with the sentence.

Eddie looked around for a moment, what felt like an hour for him was surely only a few seconds. He ended up grabbing Wayne’s old Polaroid camera from the shelf. “C’mon, we gotta take a picture.”

You smiled through your confusion, “Why?”

Eddie shrugged, “Because we never do! And I wanna remember this even when we’re so old we can’t remember our own names.”

“You want to remember a randoms Friday night?”

He nodded. “If it’s a Friday night with you? Always.”

The whirr and click of the camera went off before you knew what was happening. “Eddie, I wasn’t ready! I’m gonna look like a fucking Goblin!”

The timber of his laugh made your heart race. Eddie pulled the film from its slot beneath the lens. “Don’t sell yourself short, Bug. Troll maybe, but never a Goblin.”

You elbowed his ribs at the exact moment he connected with the couch.

“Oof.” He laughed. “C’mon, smile?”

“Fine.”

Eddie put his arm around you, pulling you in close. A second later, the flash blinded you both, leaving you dazed and giggly for the next minute.

You held out your hand, and gestured to where the photo of the two of you was laid out to develop. “Let’s see it then.” You demanded.

Eddie pulled it off the coffee table, looking at it before he handed it to you.

He wasn’t looking at the camera, no. His eyes were on you, and he was smiling harder than he’d thought was possible.

He saw how you were leaned into him, your hand holding his as it draped over your shoulder, the light behind your eyes, the smile he couldn’t get enough of.

Eddie felt it then.

So immediate and sudden it felt like his heart got struck by lightning, and it was then that he realized two things:

That this feeling, whatever it was, couldn’t possibly end well.

And two?

He is so fucked.

It became easier to breathe.

You hadn’t realized just how suffocating life here had become. To be back in Hawkins and still feel like you were hiding and alone. Though now, and in the weeks since you’re run-in with Robin and Steve, it all got a bit brighter and a little less heavy.

Steve was committed to putting the past behind you, a sentiment he all but drilled into your head the first night he visited Maggie and you at the house.

“You did what you thought you needed to do to make it. You’re back now, though. Let us be there for you.”

He also became Maggie’s own personal jungle gym. Whenever they watched a movie or had a snack together, your daughter could be found on top of him in some way. They especially enjoyed watching cartoons on Saturdays; Maggie perched on top of Uncle Cheeseball’s shoulders, because according to her it was the ‘best seat in the house.’

Robin couldn’t be deterred either.

She’s over at least three nights a week now, and Maggie is obsessed—like, seriously obsessed. It’s the sort of bond you watch from afar and admire, the way your friend opened her heart to your daughter. How she’s protected her innocence and encouraged her silliness.

Kids aren’t exactly everyone’s cup of tea. They’re loud and messy and demanding in a totally innocent way. They require you to think before you act and never put yourself first. It’s why any dates you’d been on over the years hadn’t worked out, most people disappeared after they learned of her. Not that you cared, Maggie was number one in your life, and you were damn proud of that.

But now here you are, the life you had been convinced you’d never have was happening before your eyes.

“And ya know what else, Miss M? Your Mom fell right on her butt and slid all the way down the hill!”

Maggie’s laughter echoed off the your living room walls.

“Hey! It was December and Hillcrest is notoriously icy when it snows!” You feigned insult, and tickled Maggie as her laughter multiplied.

“Mom! That’s so silly! How'd you stop sliding?” She questioned.

Robin’s eyebrow quirked up, “Yeah, how did you stop sliding?”

You sighed, embarrassment painting your face. “Steve—Uncle Cheeseball had to catch me.”

The two of them howled with laughter, “Yeah-yeah, laugh it up. I don’t like this, you’re in…cahoots!”

“Excuse me!” Robin objected. “I am a responsible adult!”

Maggie stood with her hands on her hips. “Yeah! Me too!”

You leaned down, kissing her forehead. “Alright, well, it’s bedtime for all adults and former children.”

Maggie whined, but let out a yawn mid-grumble.

“See? Proof.” You booped her nose. “Go on, you have school tomorrow. Teeth, pjs, bed, okay?”

Maggie hugged you, “Okay, Mama. Goodnight, Robby! I’ll see you on Friday for pizzas!”

She ran the few feet to your friend, and squeezed her. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, kiddo.”

Maggie, by the grace of God, listened. She was so worn out from laughing and dancing and playing with Robin that she crashed as soon as her little head hit the pillow.

“Want me to take the trash out on my way?” Robin asked, hands full of the nonsense she’d brought along with her.

“Is there a 3rd hand in there I don’t know about?” You nodded towards her, “No, Robs. I got it, I just gotta do the dishes first.”

Robin smiled behind you, relishing in the gratitude she felt having you back. “I-I’m so proud of you.” It was a near whisper, and when you turned to your friend, she had tears in her eyes.

“Maggie is…she’s so cool! And you’re obviously an incredible Mom. I’m just, I’m sorry you felt like you had to stay away.”

Your own eyes burned at that. You walked to Robin and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry too, I’m sorry I didn’t call, or write…I just didn’t know how to—to be here.”

She nodded into your embrace, adjusting the items she cradled. “Well, you’re here now. Anything you need, say the word and I’ll be here, Steve too.”

You pulled away, “I know.”

Robin grabbed her keys with the few fingers she had free. “I don’t mean to ruin the beautiful moment of love and friendship, but have you thought about...him? About what’ll happen if you see him again? I mean, Hawkins isn’t exactly a big town.” She avoided using his name, and that didn’t go unnoticed.

It’s all I think about.

Fingers toyed with the hair tie around your wrist, “I wouldn’t even know…” your voice faded out. “I’ll cross that bridge if and when I come to it, I’ve been here for a while already, and haven’t even heard anyone mention his name.”

That was true.

Everyone used to talk about Eddie Munson. The troublemaker, the cult leader, the devil-worshipping freak. The boy who was corrupting you, and ruining your future.

These backwoods hicks had no idea just how good he was back then. How kind and gentle and full of courage he was. You couldn’t understand why they hated him, not when you found it so easy to love him.

“I didn’t wanna upset you—“

“You didn’t,” you’re quick to reassure her, “it’s a logical question, and sure, maybe I’m avoiding the subject, but I appreciate you looking out for me all the same.”

Robin shrugged as if it was the most simple thought in the world, “Always.”

She left after an additional 5 minutes of arguing about helping you clean, to which you would not allow.

Cleaning up after a long day, while exhausting, was your only time to yourself. It was the one part of the day Maggie wasn’t asking something of you or looking for something or covered in something sticky.

Why is it always something sticky?

The dishes were done, and the counters were clean. You plopped on the couch, and turned on whatever the tv was playing at this hour and had just begun to fold the laundry, when the stink of the trash left by the door nearly had you retching.

“Nope, not waiting til morning…”

“Steve, Steve…” Eddie laughed.

The boy threw his hands up in frustration. “Eddie, I’m serious!”

Eddie slapped his friends shoulder. “I appreciate the worrying, pal. I’m fine, I had one beer let’s see…” the metal head looked at his watch, “an hour and a half ago. Why the sudden concern about my health and safety, hm?”

Steve blanched at the question, stumbling over his words. “T-There was an accident tonight! Drunk driver hit the pole on Cornwallis. Cops everywhere, ya know?”

Steve knew exactly why the thought of Eddie getting hurt or worse was suddenly a new phobia he developed. He had just hoped he’d hide it better than this.

Eddie sighed, “Great,” and stood, grabbing his keys out of his pocket, “back roads it is, gonna take me 20 minutes to get home now.”

Steve stood too, causing Eddie to glance back. He pinched his friend’s cheek, “Would you feel better if I called you when I got home, Stevie?” Eddie mocked, pouting his lip.

Steve pushed him away, “Shut up, man. Fine, that’s the last time I give a shit about my friends.”

Eddie laughed, “Nah, I appreciate it, Harrington. I’ll see ya on Friday right? Still looking your car over at the shop?”

“Yeah, yeah. See ya Friday.”

Eddie left Steve’s apartment smiling to himself.

What a good dude.

By the time he hit Cornwallis, the detour was worse than expected. It took him down several back roads and side streets Eddie is usually able to avoid all together.

Not to mention Forest Hills trailer park is on the opposite side of town from Harrington’s place. Eddie is usually able to zip down Main Street to save some time, but with Cornwallis a no-go, it was an addition pain in the ass to avoid the one-ways.

“Oh come on.” He griped. The car in front of him was going what seemed like negative miles an hour. He whipped the wheel to the left, evading the current route and instead, opting for an old way he remembered like the back of his hand.

Even in the dark.

It was eerie. To be on this street that he'd driven hundreds of times, knowing it wasn't leading to you.

He could practically see you, the way you’d sit on the curb until he got there, bag packed with your essentials for a few days. Wanting to get the hell out of this place before your Dad came-too.

The street was dim, lit only by the few flickering street lamps. He attempted to drown out the glimpses of the past, turning up the radio, and blasting Crazy Train so loud it made his windows shake.

Six houses away.

It was a subconscious entity; these memories shouting from the void and demanding to be remembered.

Three…

The porch light to your old house was on. “Huh…weird.” Eddie whispered to himself.

His van was barely at your mailbox when he slammed on his brakes, nearly getting choked by the seatbelt. He skidded to a stop, and killed the music.

Either he’s high as a kite, or it was you. Standing right in front of him as you dragged the trash can to the curb.

He’s hoping it’s the former.

You, rightfully so, looked like a deer in fucking headlights. Jumping back when you heard the screech of his tires.

But you know that van—you’d know it simply by the way it sounded coming down your street or by the shape of the headlights shining through the Hawkins fog.

The rusted hinges groaned when the drivers side door opened. Eddie was moving, but he wasn’t sure why. Not when very fiber of his being was screaming at him to stay in the van—to keep driving. Did he listen?

Of course not.

Eddie Munson says your name so softly and with such disbelief, it almost sounded like fear coating his tongue.

You, unlike the boy—man before you, were frozen.

That was the first thing you’d noticed. Eddie still looked like…Eddie, just a manlier—a more rugged version of the boy you’d loved.

He had five o’clock shadow covering his jaw. Cheekbones that were more defined, the hollows more pronounced. His hair was shorter, shorter than you remember it, anyway and he wore boots—work boots. Gone we’re the torn-up Goodwill sneakers he’d saved up weeks to buy.

He was in a black henley and dark wash jeans, though he still had his signature wallet chain and denim jacket.

Your heart slammed in your chest. Your dinner churned in your belly.

You could go. You could turn around and ignore him, walking back into your home and do exactly what he did to you.

But you wouldn’t, you’re better than that—better than him.

“W-Why…what are you doing here?” He half-mumbled.

“Minding my own business.” The strength in your voice surprised you.

Eddie was quiet, very uncharacteristically so, before he shook his head…presumably in an attempt to sort out his thoughts.

“But you’re, you’re here. You’re in Hawkins.” You could practically see the proverbial egg shells he was walking on.

Was he…afraid of you?

Good. You thought. He should be.

You crossed your arms, “Nothing ever did get past you.”

He was stuck. Quicksand was pulling him down, holding his body tightly and dragging him into the Earth’s core. He couldn’t breathe, he was dying.

At least that’s what it felt like.

Eddie cleared his throat. “How, um, how long—“

“A while.” You interject.

How long had you been here? How long were you staying? It didn’t matter, the answer is the same.

“And you’re staying here.” He nodded to the blue house he’s rescued you from hundreds of times.

“I don’t see how that’s your business.” You we’re cold, colder than he’s ever heard you.

Eddie took you in now. You were the same in every way that mattered. Older, sure…but still you, and for that, Eddie couldn’t be more grateful.

You had new smile lines. Were you happy? He hoped to whatever God was listening that you were.

“It’s not, shit. I—I know it’s not. I just didn’t know—“

A noise from inside the house startled you. Your head whipped around, fast as lighting.

Shit. Maggie.

“You okay?” He asked.

No, no, no.

Ignoring him, you turn and start walking back to the house, when Eddie calls your name again, not daring to move from where he’d planted his feet.

You all but spit at him, “Leave, Eddie. There’s nothing left here for you.”

And you meant it.

When you were safely inside, you check Maggie, who was sound asleep.

The noise must have been the door, or the wind, but it scared to half to death.

He didn’t deserve to know her, and maybe that’s selfish, but you aren’t ready to share your daughter yet.

Not with him.

Who knows, maybe you never will be.

[biscuits-of-bagend]

DnDoc, The Flowers We'll Remember #1 - Hard Times & #2 - Love Forty Down

Previous stories: DnDoc, Coming Home DnDoc, Space Band DnDoc,A Man's a Man DnDoc, The God of Rock 'n' Roll DnDoc, The Loch o' the Lowes DnDoc, The Mushroom Planet

Hello! So, bit of backstory for this one. I made this here narrative playlist about my favourite tennis player Andy Murray upon his recent retirement from professional tennis. Each of the chapter titles is a reference to one of the songs on the playlist, and one or two others from the playlist will be referenced within each chapter.

This retirement was very emotional for me, and I really wanted to tell the story of how I experienced Andy Murray's career. Ruby isn't that much younger than me, so I decided to have it be sort of her thing, sort of the Doctor's now too. The title of the playlist and of this story is a reference to this story within the Ali Smith novel 'Summer' and that'll become more relevant in the story later on.

Also, since they're not the most plot-heavy chapters, some of these are quite short, so much like New New Who, I'm kicking off with a double bill!

---

Part 1 - Hard Times

   It was dark outside the TARDIS. In the small antechamber in which they'd landed, the air was close and still. Slight slits could be spotted on the walls, around waist height where the blinds came down to the windowsills, but only a dim, shadowy light crept through. Even the London skyline couldn't light up a room in the dead of night.

   The TARDIS door swung open with a creak that split the silence. The Doctor poked his head out, looked one way then the other, then waved his two companions forward.

   “Clear,” he whispered.

   “Great,” said Ruby, walking out into the dark room. Rogue followed after her, and closed the TARDIS door behind him with a thud and a click.

   “Hey,” the Doctor hissed, “Quiet!”

   “But if it's all clear...” said Ruby. The Doctor could barely see her in the dark, but he could tell from the change in the direction of her voice that she had turned back around to face him.

   “It's all clear right now,” the Doctor said, “But who knows what cameras are active around here. If Kate hears us, this night is toast!”

   “Okay, okay,” Ruby whispered. “Just point me in the right direction.”

   “You're about two corridors west from when you were last here. But the stairwell is right here so we'll go down to the right floor and reorient ourselves from there,” said the Doctor. Rogue was currently excelling at staying quiet, so the Doctor took his hand to make sure he didn't roll so high on his stealth check that he got lost.

   The Doctor's stomach was bubbling with excitement as they descending the stairs in the dark. It had been Ruby's idea to do a time-tour of the history of professional and amateur tennis, and they still had many plans to go and see more matches, but they figured it would make sense to give Rogue a crash course first. And where better to start than the most prominent tennis player from Ruby's childhood, Andy Murray?

   The Time Window was going to be such a fun way to do it.

🎾 🎾 🎾

   They'd only turned on a few lights in the Time Window room, enough to be sure the Doctor could see what he was doing as he loaded up the playlist of tennis matches. After that he'd turned them back off, so now there was only the light of the remembered moment from the Queens Club tournament in 2005 London. In the reflected green of the grass and the red of the advertising boards, the Doctor watched Rogue's eyes screw up in bafflement, flick between the Doctor and Ruby to see what he was missing, then eventually widen in shock as the young Andy Murray hit a miraculous drop shot/lob combination to outwit his older, more experienced opponent. Or really, the Doctor thought, opponents. Because as they watched the Time Window jumped from match to match to show Murray doing it again, and again, and again.

   “He's pretty good this kid,” Rogue said, leaning back against the cushions they’d set up for themselves. They were sitting right on the court, because why not, if the tennis ball came near them it just flew right through them. “But like, why is that song playing? This seems like a good start to a sporting career.” He pointed up to the speakers in the Time Room window ceiling.

   The Doctor had had the sound system play - at a very low volume - a playlist Ruby had created to soundtrack the career of the legendary player. The first two songs were called ‘Halfway Right' and ‘Hard Times.’

   “Well, ‘Hard Times’ is because no matter how well he plays in this match, he's going to lose to Nadal or Federer sooner or later when it comes to Wimbledon,” said Ruby. “God I hated Nadal and Federer when I was a little kid. But also, there was the cramping thing, where his body would- ah, there he goes.”

   Just as she was talking, Andy Murray toppled straight forward from a standing position, all the way through ninety degrees, and found himself lying on the ground with his face buried in the grass. His legs were tensed and twitching slightly.

   “He got really bad cramps when he was young,” explained Ruby. “And the line from the start of ‘Halfway Right', you know ‘I scream at myself when there's nobody left to fight’ that's because most of my earliest memories of Andy Murray are him screaming at himself.”

   It didn't take long for the Time Window to demonstrate this to Rogue. In the next match, Murray would squeeze the racket in one taut hand between points and scream in rage at himself. His lips were pulled back into a vicious snarl and it made his mouth into a wide angry square shape.

   “He is calling himself all sorts of horrible things right now,” said Ruby.

   The Doctor saw Rogue shudder. Rogue had told him some of the things he'd said to himself in the time between losing Art and meeting the Doctor. He hadn't always been angry at himself as such, but there'd been a cold acceptance that he had nothing left to bring to the world, that he was basically a robot going through the motions of his bounties, that he shouldn't try to properly make friends because he couldn't offer them love.

   Rolling into Rogue's side, the Doctor squeezed his hand and kissed him on the side of his head, right at the point where his hair curled away from his forehead. The Doctor was wearing his Rosalina dress again, which Rogue had bought him using some of the coins from the sale of the Yossarian. It had turned out those coins were only legal tender on the Mushroom Planet, so the TARDIS was currently stacked with the highest tier merchandise the giant theme park had had to offer. Rogue was currently wearing a t-shirt with a big purple upside-down L for Waluigi on it. And whether he was just regretting not bringing a jumper, or because of the unpleasant thoughts running through his mind, or indeed the little kiss, the Doctor could see and feel goosebumps beginning to rise on his skin.

   “He gets better, I promise,” said the Doctor.

   The Time Window had changed to the next match, which was in California. In the dark blue of the floodlit desert night sky, Rogue smiled at the Doctor. “He sure does."

---

Part 2 - Love Forty Down

Note: Much like the Time Window, I'm doing this from memory, so I can't guarantee 100% accuracy in the words spoken and the shots played, but I was in a whirlwind of hyperfocus when I wrote this and didn't want to stop. I don't think granular accuracy matters too much, just take it with a pinch of salt

   “Wait, bit of backstory before the next one,” said Ruby. “Can you pause this, Doctor?”

   The Doctor extricated himself from Rogue's arms – with a groan – and made his way back up to the control bank outside of the main Time Window chamber, righting his slightly crumpled dress as he stood up. He had worn dresses before in his life, but not as much as he ought to have, he thought now. Even when people perceived them as a woman, she hadn't worn that many. Part of it was that they were less convenient, but clearly a properly tailored one like that from the Mushroom Planet's precise specifications was unlikely to be restrictive or get caught in things. He felt the air catch the back of it behind him as he jogged up the steps; it felt like he was swooping through the air like Rosalina herself. He grinned to himself. He'd only taken this dress off to wash it for a whole week now, and he regretted nothing.

   He paused the moment in the Time Window in a truly horrible shot of Andy Murray screaming his fury at his own missed passing shot into his outstretched hands.

   Ruby turned quickly to Rogue. “Okay, so, at some point before the World Cup – that's football – Andy was doing this interview with Tim Henman, another former tennis player. Tim, who is English, asked Andy, who is Scottish, who he would be supporting at the World Cup. Andy, who was basically a kid at the time, said ‘whoever's playing against England.’ But my mate Selena who grew up in Dumfries says that's what any self-respecting Scot would say, as a joke at the very least. But it didn't go over great with some of the public. This match though, it changes everything.”

   “Can I press play now?” the Doctor called down to her.

   “Yep,” said Ruby.

   The Doctor resumed the feed then nipped back down to lie beside Rogue. Suddenly they were on centre court at Wimbledon, lounging around right in the front row. Andy Murray walked out on court for his first ever Wimbledon final, then after him the great, the unbeatable, the nemesis Roger Federer. By this point in the playlist, the Doctor was starting to hate Roger Federer too, and he considered himself neutral on matters of nationality. But the man barely looked like he was breaking a sweat, whilst this complete basket case down the other end hauled himself through match after match to get himself where he and the entire British watching public wanted him to go, whether they all liked him or not.

   “Fuck that guy,” muttered Rogue, snarling at Federer. The Doctor chuckled.

   Murray actually won the first set but then, the horror, it started to rain in England. The retractable roof was closed over the top of the court which, for air density reasons, meant the ball zipped around much faster and was harder for Murray to scramble and retrieve. The next three sets slipped away, and Roger Federer was crowned the victor.

   “Why did you make us watch that?” said Rogue, gaping at the desolate Murray who stood before them all.

   “Wait,” said Ruby. “The good part's coming up.”

   As she said that, Murray walked over to the side of the court to do his post-match interview with Sue Barker, another legend of the game. He tried to take the microphone and speak, but had to stop as his face got redder and his eyes got glassy.

   “I'm going to try and do this but it's not going to be easy.” The last word shot up in pitch and he put his hand over his mouth.

   Rogue sat up straight and put his hand on the Doctor's leg. He watched the poor man with an open mouth.

   “I'm getting closer,” said Andy. The whole crowd laughed warmly, giving him a moment to compose himself. He managed to croak through some more of the speech, and the Doctor heard Rogue choke up a little himself when he said, “Everyone always talks about the pressure but it's never hard to play in front of you, you all make it so special.” The camera panned around the crowd, patron after patron on their feet and mirroring Rogue's concerned expression, or with their hands over their mouths and their eyes brimming with pride.

   The playlist played a song called ‘The Heart Never Lies.’ Andy Murray couldn't have hidden his emotions if he'd tried.

   “That's the day he won the sceptics over,” said Ruby.

   Rogue nodded, frantically wiping at the corners of his eyes. “That's great, but, you got anything happier queued up?”

   “Hell yeah,” said Ruby.

   The very next match was on the same court with the same opponent – flipping Federer – but they were wearing national colours on their t-shirts and shorts and there were Olympic symbols everywhere. It was the 2012 London Olympics. The other key difference, Andy won! He won Olympic gold mere weeks after the most painful defeat of his life.

   Rogue grinned and clapped his hands loudly, cheering along with the British public.

   “About a month later, he beats Novak Djokovic to win his first grand slam in New York,” said the Doctor. “And then...”

   The Olympic colours melted away and they were back in their white shirts and shorts, the dress code of the official Wimbledon tournament. But this time it wasn't Roger Federer; it was Novak Djokovic, another stratospherically good player but about Andy's own age this time, so still in the middle of building his own legend. Andy won the first two sets, and found himself up a break in the third, serving to take his first Wimbledon title. He won the first three points, putting him ‘40-0’ up and needing only one more point.

   “Wait, why is the playlist playing ‘Love Forty Down'?” said the Doctor, looking to Ruby.

  Ruby gulped. “Because it’s thematically the same as what's about to happen.”

   The Doctor watched as Andy lost one point, then another, then another, until it was 'deuce,' which essentially meant they had each won three points in the game, and one of them was now going to have to win another two points before it was over. But then Djokovic won the next point, and suddenly Andy was about to not be up a break anymore. Ruby's knees were drawn up to her chest even though she knew the outcome. The Doctor knew the outcome. He had a feeling Rogue had even guessed the outcome. But that didn't mean they couldn’t see Andy's arm shaking as he desperately tried to serve the ball.

   He saved the break point. Back to deuce. He won the next point, so it was match point again. One more point, and he'd have done it.

   He served. Djokovic made a good return, Andy hit it back. Djokovic tried a big backhand – which went into the net. He'd done it! Andy had done it! He took off his cap and crumpled it into his face, screaming for once in elation rather than frustration, before climbing up into the stands to find his friends and family.

   The Doctor looked round to Rogue, expecting him to whoop and cheer like Ruby currently was. Instead he was staring at the scene in front of him, colours and shadows passing over his face, seemingly unable to look away.

   Without looking at the Doctor he said, “Wow.”

---

Parts 3 and 4

@off-traveling-in-the-stars @casavanse @monster-donut @randomwholocker (let me know at any point if you no longer wish to be tagged in each post especially since it's a new story)

[theblondegoesabroad]

Update from New Zealand 13

Monday 6th January 2020 

 So it’s the new year. 2020. A good year I think. The numbers look promising. The start of a new decade. And what a decade it shall be. I brought in the new year as most do, way too drunk and ecstatically happy. And then spent the first day of the year feeling sorry for myself, making resolutions to drink less and napping in the shade! But hey it was a wonderful night. I spent a lot of it with mum and dad and let Jamie and his friends hang out at the Bach. We had dinner at one of our neighbours, they put on a spit-roasted pig and invited everyone in the bay, they sorted all the food, all we had to do was bring a chair and drinks. It was a lovely evening and it was nice to hang out with the locals. We then headed over to the foxes. Another family friends. Murray who was their with his wife and friends was Dads friend at the lake when they were growing up then flat mate when they were a bit older and best man at their wedding so we have known them well for a long time! It was great to catch up and have a laugh with them over a glass of bubbles! Then we went home, mum and dad headed over to some other friends and I stayed with Jamie. We had great fun, it’s such a cool group of people. At midnight the fireworks were incredible as usual but even though I have seen them so many times growing up they will never seize to amaze me. It’s a decent 20-30 minute display of professional fireworks. It’s the whole nine yards and then some! A truly great way to bring in the new year. Then it got slippery, there were lots of shots done and we all ended up on the back deck listening and singing along to guitar. I finally took myself to bed around 3 - and that was my night! 

The days following have been relaxing, Gran and Deeda came back to the lake on the 1st, just after Jamie and his mates left. I think it total we had 15 of Jamie’s friends down here. They all packed up and we had about 15 minutes of silence before the next guests arrived. However our new guests - Gran and Deeda - defiantly don’t make too much noise nor stay up till 2am each night so decidedly much quieter! We spend the days in the sun, doing a few jobs in-between book reading time and wine-o-clock. It’s been lovely! And we have definitely had some laughs! One day one of Gran and Deeda’s friends came around and was saying how much dad looked like deeda (in a certain light apparently) and deeda immediately piped up and said: “oh gosh well you couldn’t get much luckier than that!” Oh to be that confident when your 85! 

We have been flat tack with home improvements before the renters arrive. We are renting the Bach for most of January which will hopefully help to pay the bills. Everyone has been helping out, moving things, downsizing cupboards filled with 40 years of stuff, cutting wood, moving wood, gardening, cleaning the boat, the list goes on. But the list slowly decreased in size. Although in typical dad fashion he was adding to it just about as fast as we could cross them off! But the lake house looks great. It’s also great to do jobs around the place and when as soon as you get hot you can jump into the lake to cool down. 

I guess with my New Years post, all be it a late one, I should probably do the usual goals and dreams for this next year. Some are quite personal but I shall share the big ones. Which honestly - don’t change much from year to year! I’m a creature of habit which may have extended into my New Years resolution making! That doesn’t mean they are easy though. I am known for holding myself to extremely high standards which aren’t always that healthy! But I guess they work for me so I may as well continue with them. So. Here we go. 

I guess the first thing on my mind for this year is my new job. I am quite nervous about starting a new job, with a different team, different work ethic, different structure, in a different country and a different language. Although I love Belgium and am reasonably good at french. (Side note - improving my french is always on the goal list too. But this year I might actually make some major groundwork on this goal) Working there shall be difficult I am sure. But I’m good with challenges and am keen to push myself in this new opportunity as it could honestly be the job of my dreams. Fingers crossed it is. So I guess number one is enjoy and make the most out of my new job. Sounds simple but I have a feeling in difficult moments I will need to recall on this inner strength. I think this substitutes my goal for the last four years of doing well in uni, keep my grades up and get first-class honours. I guess I finally crossed that one off the list so hopefully, this one goes just as well. 

Secondly, which is usually first on the list for the last 5+ years, is to be happy. This sounds like a simple goal but for me, it is an important one and has been for a long time. Although life can be hard and it is so easy to get caught up in downward spirals a quote I heard years ago comes to mind every New  Years when I think about my goals. And it goes something like - we always have a choice in a situation, sometimes it is as simple as a choice of attitude. That was horribly paraphrased for the original but I hope you get the gist. To me, a smile and happy outlook on life goes a long way. So ever since I started writing down my goals each year. This has been a big one. 

 Another traditional goal for me and just about everyone one else in the world on January the 1st is to stay fit. So thirdly, my variation is to keep climbing. (Aka don’t let Paul get better than me- which at the moment. He’s climbing and I’m not so I think I’m in for a shock next month!) and if all goes well climb a 7a. Last year my goal was similar. But it involved a gym. Climbing is much more fun! I have always loved staying active and it is helped me immensely with reducing my stress levels and improved my outlook on life in general. Sport - in any form - is good for the soul. I used to go to the gym religiously 6am five times a week. But ever since Benoit introduced me to climbing I’ve been hooked. I’m extremely competitive with myself and as I said before I set high standards for myself so I honestly fit so well into this sport. I also don’t really enjoy competing against others (apart from some healthy rivalry with Paul) so climbing is perfect. I love the complexity of it and how it is mental just as much as it is physical. I hope New Zealand jumps on the climbing bandwagon soon. 

Anyway, those are my main goals, along with a lot of insight into them! I guess I was in an explaining mood/had a lot of time at the lake to write this. I’m home now briefly (we’re heading up north again soon) and am off to help out around the house after a long time away the new list of jobs is growing! 

Love Kate xxxx

P.s. Buddy has been missing for two days, so we are a bit worried about her, usually, she is grumpy at us when we get home and can’t stop complaining about being left on her own so hopefully she is just giving us the silent treatment and will return home soon. I’ll update you as soon as I know more!

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4 Innovative Ways to Co-Author a Book

Everyone wants to write a book — right? Studies show that 74% of people think they have a book in them. Teens are no exception. With the ease in which that can be done, thanks to word processors like Word and Docs, online editors like Grammarly, and automated publishers like Kindle, there’s no reason why teens can’t do just that. Look at this list of kids who wrote successful books in their teens — or in one case, before:

Alexandra Adornetto — published The Shadow Thief at age 14 and Halo at 18.

Christopher Paolini — published Eragon at age 16 (he is now over 30)

Steph Bowe — published Girl Saves Boy at age 16.

Cayla Kluver — published Legacy at age 16

Alec Greven — published How to Talk to Girls at age 9

As a teacher, I recognize that writing a book ticks off a range of student writing skills by providing organic practice in many required standards such as descriptive detail, well-structured event sequences, precision in words and phrases, dialogue, pacing, character development, transition words, a conclusion that follows what came before, research, and production/distribution of the finished product. I’ve tried novel-writing activities with students several times to varied results. Everyone starts out fully committed and enthusiastically engaged but by the end of the project, only the outliers on the Bell Curve finish. The rest have too much trouble balancing the demands inherent to writing a 70,000-word book (or even its shorter cousin, the novella). That I understand, as a teacher-author struggling with the same problems. As a result, usually I settle for less-impassioned but easier-accomplished pieces like short stories or essays.

Then I discovered co-authoring, a way to get all of the good achieved from writing a book without the intimidating bad. Many famous books have been co-authored, most recently, Bill Clinton and James Patterson’s The President is Missing but there’s also Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s Good Omens, Stephen King and Peter Straub’s The Talisman, and Preston and Child’s Special Agent Pendergast series. Done right, co-authoring encourages not just the writing skills we talked about earlier but perspective-taking, collaboration, and the teamwork skills that have become de rigueur in education.

The most common approach to co-authoring a book is to have students write alternate chapters but this doesn’t work for everyone. Today, I want to talk about four alternative co-authoring approaches that allow students to differentiate for their unique needs:

vignettes

multiple POV

themed collections

comics

Vignettes

A vignette is a verbal sketch, a brief essay, or a carefully crafted short work of fiction or nonfiction based around a setting, an atmosphere, or the same characters. Typically, it is about eight hundred words but can be shorter. While it can be to one writing piece, in most cases, these are published in collections that are character-driven (rather than plot-driven), located in the same location but with different story goals, or another variance that includes the same setting/atmosphere/characters. Well-known vignettes include:

Dickens’ Sketches by Boz

Cisneros’ The House on Mango Street

Here’s how students can collaborate on a book of vignettes:

Students gather in groups interested in a specific theme, atmosphere, or character. 

As a group, they write a character study of each character who will be included in the vignettes and decide on setting and atmosphere.

Individually, students write their vignette and then come together as a group to publish them.

Someone takes charge of ensuring that the ebook is formatted for the needs of the online publisher. For example, Kindle’s requirements are different than iBooks. 

Multiple POVs

Multiple Point of Views (POV) make a story more interesting, more personal, and often faster-paced. For students, it’s a great way to share the work required of a novel by writing one told from multiple POVs, each student taking responsibility for telling the story through their unique POV. This instantly gives each POV character a distinct voice with its own goals and themes. Most experts suggest assigning each POV character his/her own chapter. In this way, students know roughly where they are in a plot, understand what has happened to this point and carry it forward through the eyes of their particular character.

Some excellent books written in this way are Holly Robinson’s Same But Different about a child with autism and John Green’s Will Grayson Will Grayson about two boys who share a name. A different take on multiple POVs is used by A.S. King in her YA novel, Please Ignore Vera Dietz where the multiple viewpoints are Vera Dietz at different points in her life.

A Themed Collection

A themed collection is probably the most common collaborative approach and the easiest to achieve if the class lasts only a semester. In this option, each student writes a story that is unconnected to classmate stories in every way except for the theme. For example, the theme might be Life in Colonial America or Life of an 1820’s Immigrant. Students can write a biography, a personal memory, an essay, or a fictional story as long as it revolves around the chosen theme.

To make it more challenging, students might not only share a theme but characters, a setting, or a plot.

A Comic Book

Note: While comic books and graphic novels are different writing forms, for this comic book option, either is acceptable.

Kids and adults love comic books. For some, it’s what first got them excited about reading. For others, comics like Brian Vaughan’s Paper Girls and Jarrett Krosoczka’s Hey, Kiddo are why they returned to reading after pages filled with black-and-white text lost their interest.

Co-authoring with comics as the vehicle is the easiest approach when it comes to dividing up responsibilities. Here’s how you would do that:

As a group, students collaborate on a storyline, characters, setting, rising action, climax, and timeline.

Once this is done, each student accepts responsibility for the completion of one task associated with the story such as drawing the frames, inking and coloring the images (which could be done by two students), adding the dialogue bubbles, lettering the emotion bubbles, and proofing.

Comics can be written old school — by hand — or using a digital comic program like Manga Studio Ex.

Students might select this option because they love comics but also because it’s a more social form of writing in what traditionally is a solitary exercise. Students who have avoided writing because they prefer spending time with friends may rethink that decision when given the option to write with comics.

***

Now really, aren’t these great ways students can collaborate on writing? Students, using one of these approaches, will come away with a completely different attitude about being an author.

More 

Middle School lesson plan for writing an ebook

10 Great PowerPoint Changes You Probably Don’t Know About

Innovative Ways to Encourage Writing

Jacqui Murray has been teaching K-18 technology for 30 years. She is the editor/author of over a hundred tech ed resources including a K-12 technology curriculum, K-8 keyboard curriculum, K-8 Digital Citizenship curriculum. She is an adjunct professor in tech ed, Master Teacher, webmaster for four blogs, an Amazon Vine Voice reviewer, CSTA presentation reviewer, freelance journalist on tech ed topics, contributor to NEA Today and TeachHUB, and author of the tech thrillers, To Hunt a Sub and Twenty-four Days. You can find her resources at Structured Learning.

4 Innovative Ways to Co-Author a Book published first on https://medium.com/@DigitalDLCourse

[corpasa]

4 Innovative Ways to Co-Author a Book

Everyone wants to write a book — right? Studies show that 74% of people think they have a book in them. Teens are no exception. With the ease in which that can be done, thanks to word processors like Word and Docs, online editors like Grammarly, and automated publishers like Kindle, there’s no reason why teens can’t do just that. Look at this list of kids who wrote successful books in their teens — or in one case, before:

Alexandra Adornetto — published The Shadow Thief at age 14 and Halo at 18.

Christopher Paolini — published Eragon at age 16 (he is now over 30)

Steph Bowe — published Girl Saves Boy at age 16.

Cayla Kluver — published Legacy at age 16

Alec Greven — published How to Talk to Girls at age 9

As a teacher, I recognize that writing a book ticks off a range of student writing skills by providing organic practice in many required standards such as descriptive detail, well-structured event sequences, precision in words and phrases, dialogue, pacing, character development, transition words, a conclusion that follows what came before, research, and production/distribution of the finished product. I’ve tried novel-writing activities with students several times to varied results. Everyone starts out fully committed and enthusiastically engaged but by the end of the project, only the outliers on the Bell Curve finish. The rest have too much trouble balancing the demands inherent to writing a 70,000-word book (or even its shorter cousin, the novella). That I understand, as a teacher-author struggling with the same problems. As a result, usually I settle for less-impassioned but easier-accomplished pieces like short stories or essays.

Then I discovered co-authoring, a way to get all of the good achieved from writing a book without the intimidating bad. Many famous books have been co-authored, most recently, Bill Clinton and James Patterson’s The President is Missing but there’s also Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s Good Omens, Stephen King and Peter Straub’s The Talisman, and Preston and Child’s Special Agent Pendergast series. Done right, co-authoring encourages not just the writing skills we talked about earlier but perspective-taking, collaboration, and the teamwork skills that have become de rigueur in education.

The most common approach to co-authoring a book is to have students write alternate chapters but this doesn’t work for everyone. Today, I want to talk about four alternative co-authoring approaches that allow students to differentiate for their unique needs:

vignettes

multiple POV

themed collections

comics

Vignettes

A vignette is a verbal sketch, a brief essay, or a carefully crafted short work of fiction or nonfiction based around a setting, an atmosphere, or the same characters. Typically, it is about eight hundred words but can be shorter. While it can be to one writing piece, in most cases, these are published in collections that are character-driven (rather than plot-driven), located in the same location but with different story goals, or another variance that includes the same setting/atmosphere/characters. Well-known vignettes include:

Dickens’ Sketches by Boz

Cisneros’ The House on Mango Street

Here’s how students can collaborate on a book of vignettes:

Students gather in groups interested in a specific theme, atmosphere, or character. 

As a group, they write a character study of each character who will be included in the vignettes and decide on setting and atmosphere.

Individually, students write their vignette and then come together as a group to publish them.

Someone takes charge of ensuring that the ebook is formatted for the needs of the online publisher. For example, Kindle’s requirements are different than iBooks. 

Multiple POVs

Multiple Point of Views (POV) make a story more interesting, more personal, and often faster-paced. For students, it’s a great way to share the work required of a novel by writing one told from multiple POVs, each student taking responsibility for telling the story through their unique POV. This instantly gives each POV character a distinct voice with its own goals and themes. Most experts suggest assigning each POV character his/her own chapter. In this way, students know roughly where they are in a plot, understand what has happened to this point and carry it forward through the eyes of their particular character.

Some excellent books written in this way are Holly Robinson’s Same But Different about a child with autism and John Green’s Will Grayson Will Grayson about two boys who share a name. A different take on multiple POVs is used by A.S. King in her YA novel, Please Ignore Vera Dietz where the multiple viewpoints are Vera Dietz at different points in her life.

A Themed Collection

A themed collection is probably the most common collaborative approach and the easiest to achieve if the class lasts only a semester. In this option, each student writes a story that is unconnected to classmate stories in every way except for the theme. For example, the theme might be Life in Colonial America or Life of an 1820’s Immigrant. Students can write a biography, a personal memory, an essay, or a fictional story as long as it revolves around the chosen theme.

To make it more challenging, students might not only share a theme but characters, a setting, or a plot.

A Comic Book

Note: While comic books and graphic novels are different writing forms, for this comic book option, either is acceptable.

Kids and adults love comic books. For some, it’s what first got them excited about reading. For others, comics like Brian Vaughan’s Paper Girls and Jarrett Krosoczka’s Hey, Kiddo are why they returned to reading after pages filled with black-and-white text lost their interest.

Co-authoring with comics as the vehicle is the easiest approach when it comes to dividing up responsibilities. Here’s how you would do that:

As a group, students collaborate on a storyline, characters, setting, rising action, climax, and timeline.

Once this is done, each student accepts responsibility for the completion of one task associated with the story such as drawing the frames, inking and coloring the images (which could be done by two students), adding the dialogue bubbles, lettering the emotion bubbles, and proofing.

Comics can be written old school — by hand — or using a digital comic program like Manga Studio Ex.

Students might select this option because they love comics but also because it’s a more social form of writing in what traditionally is a solitary exercise. Students who have avoided writing because they prefer spending time with friends may rethink that decision when given the option to write with comics.

***

Now really, aren’t these great ways students can collaborate on writing? Students, using one of these approaches, will come away with a completely different attitude about being an author.

More 

Middle School lesson plan for writing an ebook

10 Great PowerPoint Changes You Probably Don’t Know About

Innovative Ways to Encourage Writing

Jacqui Murray has been teaching K-18 technology for 30 years. She is the editor/author of over a hundred tech ed resources including a K-12 technology curriculum, K-8 keyboard curriculum, K-8 Digital Citizenship curriculum. She is an adjunct professor in tech ed, Master Teacher, webmaster for four blogs, an Amazon Vine Voice reviewer, CSTA presentation reviewer, freelance journalist on tech ed topics, contributor to NEA Today and TeachHUB, and author of the tech thrillers, To Hunt a Sub and Twenty-four Days. You can find her resources at Structured Learning.

4 Innovative Ways to Co-Author a Book published first on https://medium.com/@DLBusinessNow

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