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willadisastercry · 5 years ago

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Appendicitis in space...

tw: emetophobia, appendicitis symptoms described, surgery, anesthesia, anxiety.

Coran is secretly shitting himself when the scanner lets him know that this particular human condition requires actual surgery. Most serious injuries they sustained did, but most also could be mended in a pod. This one was an exception, though. Because nothing needed to be fixed, something needed to be removed.

Lance tumbled forward awkwardly as the simulator sputtered and powered down.

“What gives, Shiro? I had that round!”

“Oh yeah? Then that wasn’t me just watching you getting your ass handed to you? Right,” Shiro laughed and he began packing up the equipment that had been pulled out.

“That’s enough for today anyway. Good work, everyone.”

Lance couldn’t even find it in him to continue his protests as he leaned over on his knees to catch his breath while he waited for the cramping in his side to dissolve.

Training that morning had been rough for everyone. Shiro wanted to ensure that the lull in active missions did not leave his team thinking they could kick back. So they worked on hand to hand combat and trained on as hard of a level they could tolerate until they became proficient in whichever skill they were focusing on.

Everyone did pretty well. They all made varying degrees of progress, but progress nonetheless.

Well, everyone except for Lance.

And he was pissed.

So he determined not to quit until he improved from his navice standing with a short sword, running the simulation countless times but barely making a dent.

He fought sloppily, all desperation and no strategy. Actually he did have sort of a strategy if you counted fighting simply to survive and that was not how you were supposed to train, but Shiro gave up on driving that point home early on.

Because Lance was visibly off.

Shiro had chided him earlier for picking at his breakfast, that he would regret it once they began training, but he just shrugged.

Lance barely spoke the entire morning of which Shiro was very wary of given that he was usually the most energetic of the bunch in the mornings.

But he assured the older boy he was fine.

Shiro knew that he had been feeling crappy the last few days so at first he attributed the weird behavior to him probably still feeling gross.

So when he fought sloppily he knew it was because he was fatiguing much quicker than his teammates. That when he got hit by an obvious blow it was because his brain quite literally couldn’t keep up with the battle.

He’d start off okay only to spend the rest of the simulation narrowly feigning off every strike after the first few parries and getting properly clobbered by way too many.

Shiro was glad he was able to recognize his shoddy performance for what it was before he exacerbated the issue, making a mental note to check in on him later that day as he finished cleaning up.

The paladins stalked off to the showers, Hunk and Pidge engaging in a riveting conversation explaining to Keith how the castle’s ‘waste’ was plumbed and disposed of.

He was horrified to say the least.

Lance lagged behind, the exhaustion from the session making his limbs feel so very heavy. Not to mention the knot in his side had never gone away and the trek was only increasing his discomfort as the adrenaline high wore off.

But he resigned that he was just overly tired and that a hot shower would likely help.

And it did, for his aching muscles. But his abdomen was still taut, the steady pulse of discomfort making him a little queasy.

He detached the removeable shower head and held it on his side for a moment. The water was boiling and so the heat seemed to numb the spot, but the pain was still there.

He gingerly began probing the area as he tried to work out what exactly was hurting, thinking maybe he’d pulled a muscle.

His stomach had been feeling weird for the last couple of days, but it had never been a concentrated pain like this.

And as he pressed around he was able to pinpoint the exact spot that was smarting the most so he could rub out whatever the issue was.

But as soon as he put pressure on it he knew he’d messed up.

It wasn’t even the pressure so much as the lack of it because when he removed his fingers to work out the soreness he grunted loudly as pain erupted at the site.

He was so caught off guard by the sudden sharpness that took over the dull ache that he dropped the shower head and it clanged on the tile, just narrowly missing his foot when he hadn’t even made an effort to avoid it.

His vision went white for a second and he stumbled into the wall, mostly due to the intense fear that was now upon him, and it took a second for the blood rush to settle before he could hear his friends knocking on the door of the shower stall.

“—ance? Lance!”

“The fuck is going on in there...”

He took a shuddering breath and called out that he was fine, he was just tired.

“Are you like weak in the knees tired or what? Because if you pass out in there and we have to help you while you’re butt ass naked, I swear—“

“I’m not going to pass out,” he groaned as he leaned his head back against the wall with a hand hovering carefully on his side.

“Okay, you’ve just been in there forever.”

“And Shiro said to keep an eye on you for suspicious behavior.”

“He’s not a suspect, Pidge, he’s just stubborn.”

“Well I am very much okay, so you can tell Shiro that and leave me alone.”

“Jeez—“

“Damn, well if you take a header you’ve gotten your wish, you’re on your own.”

Hunk and Pidge started off and Lance sighed, about to apologize when his side twinged, stealing a more pained sound from his throat.

He leaned his head back and tried to breathe through it, the worst muscle cramp of his life, once again not really being able to pay attention to what else was happening.

The pain wasn’t spreading, it was intensifying. Twisting and burning under each harsh pant, like someone was holding a fire poker to him and moving it around.

It was making his head swim and his stomach churn. He had been nauseous all morning and hadn’t eaten, so he was very confused as to how he could possibly need to throw up now, but there was no questioning it when he almost choked on the saliva rushing to fill his mouth.

He didn’t know when he’d grabbed the towel thrown over the door and tied it around his waist or when he’d made a break for the toilets across the room, he just knew he was moving and that he wouldn’t make it there.

And then he was hunching over one of the many sinks heaving, his side in a fiery protest with each contraction in his stomach.

The blood rush was back in his ears, so he didn’t know that Keith was talking to him or that he was even there until he was hitting his back when he couldn’t breathe in between gags and almost choked on his own sick. The shock of the hit allowed his stomach to break its cycle of relentless clenching.

He spit up the last of the bile that made its way up his throat and ducked his head further between his shoulders as he leaned on the sink while he caught his breath.

His lungs ached and he was dizzy. Everything seemed to hurt from that, all temporarily dulling the bite of the worsening throb in his side.

“Ok, what the fuck was that?” he could hear Keith asking after a minute.

He started to speak, to give an explanation, but he didn’t even know what to say, he wasn’t sure what was wrong. But when he went to talk his side pulsed rather aggressively and he was instantly gagging again.

Not much came up this time though as his stomach had already divulged itself of all its contents.

After he calmed back down, he looked up at himself through the mirror.

He was really pale except for a splash of red across his cheeks, his muscles tight and straining as he suffered through his discomfort and the pain, skin glistening in a mix of sweat and water.

And then he found Keith’s pointed gaze in it.

“Should I get Coran? You look like shit.”

“Ah—uhyh huh...” he struggled to formulate his words through his ragged breaths but got there eventually.

“Ye-yeah, please...”

“Okay, you good here or do you need to sit?”

“I-I’m gonna put... something on,” he stated before pushing himself up from the sink uneasily. Once he was up straight he wobbled a little and Keith grabbed his arm, but he shook him off saying he just needed a second and waited for the swirling black dotting his vision to disappear before heading for his pile of clothes on the bench.

Keith stayed next to him the entire way, making sure he got there without splitting his head open, more worried now then he was when Lance was choking on his own puke.

But he hid it well for the most part, except when he was actually being really nice. That was his tell.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t try and get to the toilet if you need to yak again, wouldn’t want anything to happen to that amazing brain of yours—“

“Hey...”

“Kidding, i’ll be really quick though. And seriously just stay there.”

“Yup, not going anywhere...” he assured, returning his hand to hover over the fire that felt like it was burning a hole in his side, the other waving Keith off.

Lance pulled his hoodie from the pile first. His skin was covered in goose bumps from how cold he was and he didn’t have the energy to put his entire post workout sweat suit on so it would have to do for now.

He shrugged it on carefully, it took a while because lifting his right arm up aggravated his side, but once it was on he felt better. He was still really cold and his hair was still wet so that wasn’t helping.

Pants next. Well underwear first. He found his boxer briefs in the pile and got to his feet wearily. He was still really dizzy and so he decided to proceed with caution and moved over to lean against the wall for this.

He took a deep breath and leaned over to put his feet through. It hurt. The orientation made his head pound dangerously and he straightened up only to feel a twinge from his side.

Fuck, he remembered thinking as he leaned heavily on the wall. But he very much needed to have underwear on when Coran came back, so he tried again.

This time he just dropped his arms down in front of him, keeping his torso straight as he raised one leg at a time through each leg hole.

Success. He breathed a sigh of relief and released his towel then started for the sweat shorts but his body did not like that.

He was none too kindly reminded of how lightheaded and dizzy he still was in that moment and he staggered forward, his foot catching a wet spot on the floor and the momentum of the error took him to the ground hard.

He landed very much on his ass but the fall jolted through his side like he’d gotten shot. If he thought it was on fire before, he was very wrong. This heat was excruciating and nauseating and blinding and gosh it was hard to breathe.

He hadn’t known when he’d laid down but he was suddenly very aware he was writhing on his side, feet kicking and searching for purchase on the tile as he arched through the pain piercing his abdomen.

And then there was a shadow over him. It sounded like robots were talking over him, their cold hands gripping his shoulders and face and turning him to lie on his back.

He had just been so cold but their hands felt so much colder because he was not aware he had started sweating. That wasn’t the only thing coming back to him, so was the nausea rippling through his stomach just as intensely as the fire raged.

He tried to focus his eyes, tried to see the faces over him. It was hard with how everything seemed to be spinning but eventually he could make them out.

“C-Coran, please... p-please”

“I will my boy, but you’ve got to tell me what’s wrong. What’s hurting?”

His hand moved from scratching at the tile to tug on his sweatshirt pocket.

“Where on your stomach? Show me,” Coran ordered as he lifted Lance’s sweatshirt up to his chest.

From the outside everything looked perfectly fine, aside from his abnormal parlor.

So Coran was dubious when he watched the sick boy move his hand cautiously over his side right beside and a little lower down than his belly button, his fingertips barely brushing the warm skin but producing a stiff breath anyway.

“Hm,” Coran mused, muttering a quick ‘forgive me boy’ before he pressed down on and around the spot.

Lance’s scream was drowned by his gag and then Keith was beside Coran, his hands tilting Lance’s face to the side and then pulling his torso that way as well. He thrashed and tried to wriggle out of their grips as he struggled, the pressure of being on the side that was on fire too much as his gut wrenched up nothing but yellow.

“Calm down Lance, you’re okay!”

“Breathe boy, you’re working yourself up and it’ll only make it worse. I think your appendix has ruptured, we’ll need to get you to the infirmary immediately...”

He wasn’t sure what was said after he that, his memory of getting to the infirmary was hazy because of how much it fucking hurt.

He was vaguely aware of curling up in a wheelchair, one hand clutching his stomach and another barely holding open a vomit bag up to his mouth. Nothing was coming up then except for saliva.

He didn’t even remember being lifted into a bed in the infirmary because the movement had unsettled his stomach once more, stealing his breath while he struggled against the vice wrapping around his empty stomach.

They had to put a cannula around his nose to get him extra air while he dry heaved, but he only calmed down after he quite literally almost stopped breathing and Keith ignored Coran’s protest to hit him on the back like before.

He was also sort of aware he had started crying at some point and was reminded of that when Coran was pressing onto his side once more.

At this point he didn’t even have the energy to struggle, he just continued to tremble violently under the touch as fresh tears spilled down his face.

“Hey, shh you’ll feel much better soon,” a new voice assured as they ran their hands through his damp hair. He leaned into the touch and saw that both belonged to Shiro.

“Shit, if I had known you had freaking appendicitis I would never have made you train today,” he laughed sadly.

He shut his eyes closed at that and tried to breathe through the waves of nausea against his pounding headache all topped off by the fire poker in his side.

“Coran what’s the estimated time in the pod for this, you think?” Keith asked as the others were just arriving.

“I’m afraid he cannot go into a pod just yet,” Coran said gravely, not once lifting his face from his tablet.

“Lance!”

“Woah, what the quiznak happened?!”

“He’s so freaking pale, oh my god.”

“It’s his appendix,” Keith offered.

“The scans show that the organ has completely ruptured and is leaking into his abdomen. It is something that can only be remedied with—with surgery.”

“Oh, Coran... is that—something we can even do here?”

“It’s going to have to be.”

The time between when Shiro explained what was going to be happening to Lance and when they were about to put him under went impossibly slow and too fast all at once.

He would gag occasionally but nothing came up with it. They had since attached a bunch of wires all over him and put an IV in his arm that was giving him pain medicine and antibiotics.

It seemed to help a lot with his discomfort and he eased into the bed after they finally kicked in, his body relaxing for the first time in a while.

“I’m n’gonna feel an’thing right?” He asked Coran, his words sloshing together from the mix of utter exhaustion and drugs.

“Of course not my boy, this will take care of that as will the pain medicine,” he assured as he held a weird altean breathing mask in his hands.

“I’m going to put it over your nose and mouth now, just breathe normally and we’ll do a little count down while you fall asleep.”

Coran motioned to place the mask on him, but he turned away from it.

Lance looked around wildly as if he couldn’t see the multiple friendly faces looking at him and the machines recording his heart rate began to pick up, and then was reaching for someone, anyone.

“We’re here! We’re all right here,” Keith said taking up his hand with a wire attached to his finger, Shiro was grabbing the other.

“I-I don-I don’t”

“You’ve got to buddy, you’re really sick,” Shiro soothed as he ran his hands through his hair once more. The touch calmed him only somewhat, his breath hitching once more as he continued to worry.

“I k-know, but I-I’m scared I w-won’t...”

He was crying again.

“Won’t what buddy?” Hunk asked tenderly as his hand fell to Lance’s leg.

“What if I d-don’t wake up,” he managed before his breathing took a turn and Coran rushed to go find a remedy for it, not quite understanding it was mostly him just being anxious.

Pidge was pushing past all the bodies looming over the bed and sufficiently blocking her from being able to help Lance, but once she shoved Shiro forward she was scrambling onto the bed and nuzzling herself against Lance’s good side.

He gasped at her presence but seemed to melt into it soon after he realized what she was doing. She pulled at the hand clutching Shiro’s and placed it on her back so he could feel her calm breaths and ground himself.

“Slow and deep, you’re okay,” she urged and leaned her head against his chest, his sweatshirt was still on but folded up under itself to expose his stomach, a circle had been drawn around the location of his appendix.

He leaned his head against hers and breathed slow shaking breaths.

“Coran it’s alright, he’s calming down on his own,” Keith urged just as Coran turned up with some strange altean herb that was purple and emitting some sort of low cooing sound.

“You’re going to be just fine, Lance. Coran would never let anything bad happen to you.”

“Yeah, and if you feel like taking an extra long snooze we’ll be here to rudely wake you up like we always do,” Pidge added and she could feel Lance relax under her weight.

“I’m s-sorry for being so mean earlier, guys—“

“Shh, no more saying ‘i’m sorry’. Just accept the cuddle and zip it.”

Lance could almost summon a laugh but the pain in his side prevented it.

“Let’s try again with the sleepy time mask, yeah?”

“Yeah...”

He reached for Shiro’s hand again and all of the other hands on him tried to soothe him as best they could as he tensed when the mask descended on his face.

“We’ve gotcha bud.”

“You’ll be just fine Lance.”

“Nothing bad can happen to when you’re being cuddled so viscuously.”

“Okay, let’s start counting back from 10.”

“10, 9—“

“Easy, count slower. You’re alright.”

A second hand was on his head, pushing his hair back and trailing behind his ear. He closed his eyes at the sensation, it was something his mamá would do.

“9... 8... 7...”

“That’s it number three, easy...”

Around 5 he stopped counting. He felt his body becoming heavier and heavier as he breathed through the strange mask, he could feel the gentle but firm touches of his teammates, the only constant as he breathed deeper and deeper, a pleasant haze falling over him.

He could feel the level in Pidge’s breath, and tried to match it, his eyelids feeling so heavy they were hard to keep open.

And then he felt light.

The last thing he saw before his eyes fluttered shut was Allura and Hunk smiling while they said something that was lost on him.

He didn’t care though, he didn’t need to hear it to know what they meant.

He remembered feeling really safe in that moment.

He wasn’t scared anymore.

#vld #whump scenario #lance angst #vld lance #voltron fic #voltron whump #lance mcclain #sick boy #voltron sick fic #voltron fandom #lance whump #lance anxiety #keith helps #concerned keith

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staticscreenwriting · 6 years ago

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All you have to be is here - Part 5

Synopsis: Billy has fucked up and has to do 60 days of community service at a home for troubled kids and youth. Working with the kids there makes him learn a lot about himself. Also there’s a girl there his age whohas a phenomenal smile and who is way too nice to him.

I guess I should mention there’s a lot of angst in this. Talk of substance abuse later on, physical abuse, emotional abuse. All that kind of gnarly real life stuff. It deals with kids and teens struggling with a a shitty family life so be aware of that.

Part 5 of ?

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Had to reupload because I forgot to tag and once I added the tags it wouldn’t show up under “most recent”. Please help a girl out by reblogging. Thank you ♥

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please. I’ll make a header image at some point.]

I never really ever felt so adored before Never really ever felt this type of vulnerable Don’t have to hide, don’t have to fear All you have to be is here Never really ever felt so adored before And I said I wanna feel like this forever Even if forever’s just for now We’re on fire, let us burn As the outside world, it turns We are here and alive In our corner of time Forevermore

The Arcade smells like sweat, cream soda and cool ranch doritos. Some radio friendly pop song is playing from the overhead stereo and the flashing lights of the games are driving Billy slightly mad.

He lets his eyes scan the room for the familiar mop of fiery red hair while his fingernails are digging into his palms creating crescent shapes on his skin. It’s a nervous habit he’s picked up a while ago.

She’s not here. She’s not here. The voices in his head call out to him as his heart speeds up beat by beat. She’s not here and you’ll have to suffer the consequences.

She’s not here and you’ll have to suffer.

There’s a guy leaning against the front desk, flicking through a magazine while stuffing his face with handful after handful of chips.

“ Hey uh— “ Billy approaches and glances at guy’s the name tag “— Keith, you seen a little girl around ? Bout this tall, red hair ? “

He’s met with a scowl and a raised eyebrow.

“ Why ? “

His blood starts to boil. The last thing he needs right now is this nerd giving him an attitude.

“ ‘cause she’s my sister and I was supposed to pick her up and take her home but I can’t see her anywhere. “

“ Max ? “

Billy wonders for a second if he should be concerned that this weird dude knows his sister by name then again Max spends a shit ton of time here so really It’s not too surprising.

“ Yeah, that’s her. So ? “

“ Mmh. She left like an hour ago. “ Keith says then looks back down at his magazine effectively ending the conversation.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Billy hurries back outside, dusk coloring the sky is hues of orange and pink.

She’s probably at the Sinclairs’ place or the Wheelers’ or wherever the fuck her and her friends hang out these days. To check all the places in hope to find her would take pretty much the whole evening and in the end, what difference will it make ? Neil’s gonna chew him out one way or another.

So he drives home sans Max, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white. Those are the moments that make him feel like he’s 8 years old again, getting yelled at during baseball practice for not sliding the way his dad has told him to. It makes him feel just the way he did at 9 sitting at the kitchen table watching his dad scream at his mom, calling her names.

It makes him feel like a small vulnerable child.

Lost.

Broken.

Scared.

Billy drags himself through the door, drops his keys in the little decorative bowl and throws his jacket over the recliner before trudging towards the kitchen. Every steps feels harder than the next, as if his feet get heavier and heavier the closer the gets to his dad. Like a cow on the way to the slaughterhouse.

Neil sits comfortably by the dining table, newspaper in hand while Susan is buzzing around the room preparing the food and cleaning up all at once. Billy doesn’t think he’s ever seen his dad help around the house, ever. Not back when mom was here and not with Susan.

At the sound of his steps, both Neil and Susan turn towards the door and focus on Billy. Neil’s eyes hold the familiar cold stare. There’s absolutely no warmth in them, no hint of tenderness, love, anything positive really. Billy wonders if there ever has been. If there has been a time when Neil felt some kind of affection towards anyone. He truly can’t remember a time when his dad was treating him particularly nicely but mom or Susan surely had to have had a reason to marry this man. There must have been something redeeming about him.

“ Where’s Max. “ Neil barks at his son.

Well hello to you too.

“ She wasn’t there. I went to pick her up. She wasn’t there. “

Billy is painfully aware that his words mean nothing to Neil, that whatever he says to defend himself is just a drop of water on a hot stone. It’s for nought. It makes no difference.

“ So you just left ? “ Neil replies, neatly folding the newspaper and getting off his chair. He moves agonizingly slow, calculates every move as a predator would before going in for the kill.

“ What was I supposed to — “

“ Did I or did I not, tell you to bring Max home ? “ Neil interrupts.

“ She wasn’t there, dad. I’m not her babysitter. I don’t know where all her friends live. If she runs off how is that my fault ? “

He’s gonna have to face the consequences one way or another, might as well get his frustrations out. Billy knows that talking back isn’t the smartest idea but he’s also incredibly thick headed. His mom never raised a quitter but maybe she did raise a fool and that’s one hell of a combination.

“ I’m sorry ? “ his dad asks, thick mean eyebrows raised in mock confusion. He’s heard him alright.

“ You heard me alright. I was there when I was supposed to be there. It’s not my fault she— “

His head hits the wall before he can even finish the sentence. Neil grips his jaw so tightly Billy is sure he’s gonna leave bruises. Again.

“ You are her older brother. You’re supposed to take care of her. Be responsible. I thought I raised you right but it seems you’re just as much of an irresponsible brat as your mother. You’re a disgrace, Billy. You disgust me. No wonder she left“.

Billy is certain that Neil knows bringing up his mother hits him where it hurts the most. Ever since she left, Neil hasn’t missed a single occasion to make Billy feel responsible for it.. In the logical, rational part of his brain, Billy knows this is bullshit. That it was the yelling, the fights, the bruises that made her leave. But there’s a part of him, the part that remembers baseball games ending in tears and smashed plates on the dining room floor.

And that part believes every single painful word coming from Neil’s lips.

That part feels overcome with guilt every single day of his life.

“ Now you listen to me, son. You go out there now and look for her and you better pray to god that you find her. “

He accentuates his words with another slap to the face effectively banging Billy’s head against the wall again before shoving him towards the door.

There’s blood running down his nose as he grabs his jacket and keys and rushes outside. Just as the door slams shut and he looks up, a pair of eyes stare back at him.

Max looks guilty, like a dog being caught doing something it knows it shouldn’t be doing. “ Billy I — “

He doesn’t stay to listen, just shoves past her and gets inside his car driving off.

It’s not Max’s fault. He know this. At least not really. It’s entirely and solely Neil’s fault. For being a fucking asshole. An abusive fucking asshole. He’s the one throwing the punches. He’s the monster here.

Though Max constantly running off, constantly rebelling doesn’t help Billy’s cause in the slightest. He knows she doesn’t do it on purpose. But the thing is, she does it anyway and he’s the one having to deal with the consequences.

Now he rather takes the punches himself than have Neil put a hand on Max but still, he wishes she could just stick to the rules a little more. Spare him some bruises.

His head is pounding, throbbing. It’s hard to focus on the street right now. Trees pass by in a blur. He knows it’s dangerous to continue driving but he needs to get away. Just a little further. Just a little.

Blood is still trickling down his nose, dripping off his chin. A glance in the rearview mirror confirms his suspicion that he looks like a fucking mess right now. He wonders if mommy dearest ever imagined this was the outcome. That this is what she left him with. Bruises and bloody noses and a head that feels like exploding any second. He wonders if she cares that she did.

The lights before him shift and shimmer, dancing before his eyes like fireflies on a warm summer’s night.

He realizes he needs to stop before his vision goes completely blurry and he ends up crashing the Camaro into a tree. Not his baby.

A sign catches his eye and he pulls the car off the road and drives up the little gravel driveway towards the building that displays in bold red letters on a big white board that this is Benny’s diner and it serves “the best burgers in all of Hawkins” — their words not Billy’s.

As he gets out of his car he can feel just how lightheaded he really is, having to hold onto the Camaro for a moment to collect himself. It’s usually bad but today is a new high or low, however you wanna see it. Billy wonders if Neil finds some sick satisfaction is seeing just what kind of damage he’s doing to his son. Seeing the marks he leaves when someone doesn’t follow the rules.

It’s all about power. It’s always been. Physically and emotionally and no matter how much Billy wants to pretend he’s in charge, that’s absolute bullshit. His dad holds it all in the palm of his hand, pulling Billy along on a set of invisible strings. He knows which buttons to push, which words to spit out. Neil knows where it hurts the most — physically and emotionally.

Before he even really thinks about it, Billy drags himself towards the payphone connected to the outside of the diner. It looks worn and dirty but he can only hope it still works.

His hands are shaky as he throws some spare change into the machine before pushing down the buttons of the number he’s never used and yet still knows by heart. Just in case.

Just in case.

Just in —

“ Hello ? “ she sounds sleepy and Billy can only imagine her hair is all over the place and her makeup is smeared, half on her face still half printed onto her pillowcase.

“ Hey, it’s me. “

“ Billy ? “

“ Mmh. Did I wake you ? “

“ I uh — no. No you didn’t. “ It’s a lie. He can tell immediately though he appreciates the thought. She doesn’t want him to feel bad, wants him to know she doesn’t mind. It makes his heart feel just a little less heavy.

“ Are you alright ? “

Is he ? No. It’s the truth. The honest answer. Though it’s not the simple answer. There is no more simple in his life. There hasn’t been in a long time.

Everything in his life is just another knot in a tangled web of anger and fear and feelings he never allowed himself to feel.

What does he tell her though ? Yes, and lie. Or no and try to figure out just how to explain his entire shitty situation over a pay phone call.

He doesn’t answer at all. Because this question calls for a simple answer and he has none of those.

“ Do you know Benny’s diner ? “

“ In Hawkins ? Yeah. Why ? “

“ Can you — “ he takes a deep breath.

This is so awfully familiar. Can you come ? Can you stay with me ? Can you rescue me from this all consuming darkness that never seems to go away ?

He’s asked his fair share of questions just like that. Can you please come home. Can you ? Can you, mom ? I miss you.

He doesn’t want to ask again now because hearing the answer he’s heard all those other times, will break his heart. — No.

“ Can I what ? Come around ? Is that where you’re calling from ? Lemme just get dressed and I’ll be there, okay ? “

His heart breaks right there. Then reassembles. There’s still pieces missing but for a moment, for a fleeting second it feels like some of the cracks are temporarily filling up.

“ You sure ? “

“ I’m sure. Always !“

“ Okay. “

“ Okay. Hey Billy ? “

“ Yeah ? “

“ Can you go inside and safe us a booth. And order me some cheese fries and a cherry coke ? “

He smirks at that, wipes the blood from his face and leans his forehead against the wall.

“ Always. “

Billy’s fingers nervously play with the chipping wood of the table before him. He can see the waitress eyeing him with an unreadable expression. He’s not sure if she regards him with worry or lust — or both.

She’s about to do her third round to refill his glass of water, when the bell above the door chimes up and figure rushes inside, denim jacket wrapped tightly around herself.

(Y/N) plops down across from Billy, hair wild and face void of all makeup. He can faintly make out a pillow print on her right cheek.

“ Hi, sorry it took so — oh my god. “

There’s pure and unfiltered horror on her face. As if she’s looking straight at a murder scene.

“ It’s that bad, huh ? And here I thought I could charm you with my exceptionally good looks. “ he jokes. She doesn’t laugh though. Not even a little bit. Not even a smirk or a grin. Nothing.

Instead her eyes hold a deep worry he hasn’t seen from anyone but her in such a long time, it still feels otherworldly and incredibly foreign to him.

“ What happened ? “

That’s the thing. Nothing happened. Nothing out of the ordinary and maybe that’s the biggest tragedy of them all.

Billy shrugs “ Guess my dad just isn’t my biggest fan. “

He can see just then it all clicks in her head. The bruises and the bloody nose and the constant state of anger.

“ Oh Billy “ she says, her voice but a whisper. “ Oh god. “

Before he can comprehend what’s happening she’s slid out of her side of the booth and sits down next to him. Her arms wrap around him and she buries her face in the crook of his neck. She’s warm and soft and gentle and it’s the complete opposite of the touches he’s used to from his dad.

He decides then, that her hugs are definitely in his top 5 list of favorite things on this earth.

(Y/N) slowly pulls away then gingerly cups his face trying to examine the damage.

Her eyes are glistening with unshed tears just waiting to fall. Billy doesn’t think he’s even close to be deserving of her worry, her affection and her love. But there is no way in hell he’s gonna reject it. He needs it. My god, he needs it so terribly.

“ Pretty boy, what am I gonna do with you ? “ she softly murmures, he assumes it’s just as much a question to herself as it is to him.

If only he had any idea how to answer it.

“ You think I’m pretty ? “

It doesn’t take away the gravity of the situation, the insanely heavy burden resting on them both. It does make her smile though and that’s more than he can ask for right now.

They spend the next hour at the diner, sharing some cheesy fries and listening to the 50s records playing over the stereo. (Y/N) doesn’t leave his side, not for a single second. He’s grateful. Having her close feels like things aren’t about to fall apart any second. She’s filling the cracks with smiles and warmth. She’s holding the seams together with soft touches and whispered words of affection.

“ Tell me something “ he says after stuffing another load cheesy fries into his mouth.

“ What do you want me to tell you ? “

“ I dunno. Something about you. I feel like you know a lot about me and I don’t know shit about you. “

She looks pensive for a moment, deep in thought as if carefully calculating just what secrets she wants to spill to Billy at 11pm in a diner at the edge of town.

He can’t fault her for that. Opening up is terrifying.

“ My mom died when I was 12 “ she replies after a moment of silence.

“ I’m sorry “.

She nods then leans her head against his shoulder “ she was a great mom. She loved me so much we were pretty much best friends, did everything together. Things were really tough for us but she always tried so hard to make life fun and happy for me. “

His mom did try, for a while. He always believed she loved him too. Then she ran off with some dude name Jeff she met at fucking Cracker Barrel. Seems like there was only so much love from her to be given to other people. And in the end Jeff won out over Billy.

“ What about your dad ? “

(Y/N) closes her eyes and takes a deep breath “ My dad was in jail for pretty much the biggest part of my childhood. Never for long but soon as he got out he found a way t get back in. When he was home he was — a rollercoaster of a person. He had times when he was the most fun person in the world, taking me to the fair and the movies and making up stories of make believe worlds. I love that man, that dad. But there were times, and they got more and more as time went on, when he was angry and scary and violent. Never to me but my mom was always on the receiving end of his wrath. I sat in my room covering my ears hoping the yelling would stop but then also fearing the moment it would because the silence was even scarier. When she was yelling at least I knew she wasn’t slumped on the floor bleeding or crying. “

There’s cold and hot shivers running up and down his spine as he listens to her story. If there’s one person in this world that he wishes he could take the pain from, it’s (Y/N). If he could just take it from her and put it all on himself, he would.

“ I was 10 when I called the police after finding my mom unconscious on the living room floor and dad gone. They arrested him again, put up a restraining order. Mom and I moved to Hawkins to be with my grandparents. Then she got sick. She died when I was 12 and I stayed with my pop and nan for a while but they — they’re old. They aren’t fit to raise a teenager so when I was 15 I got myself emancipated. That’s why I work at HHTCY. It’s a requirement to show that I am capable of living on my own and being responsible. Dad tries to contact me every once in a while. I don’t want to see him though. As far as I am concerned my father died along with my childhood when I had to pick my mother off of the floor, bleeding and unconscious. “

Billy doesn’t know what to say, there’s no words in the english language to properly express just how sorry he is that she had to go through this. How much he wishes she didn’t. How much he just wants all the pain gone and wrap her in up in quilt of safety and warmth.

So he doesn’t say anything, just pulls her closer and places a kiss on her head.

“ Pretty girl, you’re probably the most badass person I know. “

She sniffles then glances up at him with a tiny smile “ you think I’m pretty ? “

When they arrive at (Y/N)’s place, Luke the cat runs up to them, rubbing himself on Billy’s leg and purring up a storm. Though he never considered himself to be a cat person, Billy can admit that he’s warming up to this one particular feline. Luke is fat and happy and content. Maybe Billy is even a bit envious of him. Oh to be a housecat. What a glorious life.

(Y/N) disappears in her room for a moment and Billy let’s himself slump down on the couch. His head feels better though it’s still lightyears away from feeling good. The night feels like a goddamn hurricane of emotions. His mind was so loud at first, felt like it was never gonna shut up with thoughts of what is and what could be. Now it’s quieter, softer. Like a cozy blanket has been draped around him. To keep out the cold. The noise.

Billy kicks off his boots and takes off his red shirt leaving him in a white wife-beater. Just as he is about to lay down on the couch and settle down for the night, the door to (Y/N)’s bedroom opens and she calls out to him.

“ Billy ? “

“ Hmm ? “

She doesn’t reply, just reaches out her hand towards him waiting for him to take it.

He does. No question asked. He doesn’t know what it is about this girl, and quite honestly it terrifies him, but he would follow her to the end of the earth. Something about her puts things in perspective. No matter how cheesy it sounds, how much it makes him look like a pussy, but this girl has changed his life in the matter of about a week. This girl has brought some kind of sunshine to him. Has put parts of his heart back where they belong.

Her hand looks tiny in his. It’s such a stark contrast, her soft smooth skin against his all rough and calloused. It shouldn’t feel right but it does. It feels like it the only thing that’s right in his life. It feels perfect.

“ I can not let you sleep on the couch in this condition. I — it’s too small for you and it’s uncomfortable. “

“ It’s alright. “

She just shakes her head. “ I don’t want you to sleep alright. I want you to sleep well. Comfortable and warm and cozy. “

She has the most gorgeous eyes he’s ever seen. Like stars. How fucking cheesy.

“ So what, you gonna let me sleep in your bed ? “ he jokes, teasingly raising his eyebrow.

He thinks his heart about stops when she bites her lip and nods, pulling him towards her bedroom. And it’s not because of any sexual implications. This feels so much more intimate than casual sex ever could. Just the mere thought of falling asleep next to her sends a weird tingling sensation through him. To fall asleep holding her. To wake up next to her. Messy hair and pillow print and sleepy eyes and tired smile and all.

“ Okay. “ and this time it’s his words that don’t come out as more than a whisper.

The morning sun shines through the curtains of (Y/N) bedroom window, enveloping the room in a golden glow.

Billy opens his eyes to the sudden brightness lighting up the room. A glance at the clock on (Y/N)’s bedside table tells him that it’s 9:42, they’re already late for school might as well sleep in. After last night’s events neither of them thought of setting an alarm.

Billy looks beside him to the sleeping girl still blissfully unaware of anything but her dreams. He hopes they’re good ones. A selfish part of him hopes there’s a place for him there somewhere in her dreams.

It’s a strange sensation to wake up in a girl’s bed when he hasn’t had sex with her. He doesn’t think it ever happened before. Strange. Not uncomfortable though. Not at all.

As if sensing someone looking at her, (Y/N) grumbles in her sleep then reaches out towards Billy. When her hands find his arm, she crawls closer towards him and cuddles into his side as if it’s no big deal. And maybe it isn’t. Friends cuddle all the time, right ?

Thing is, it IS a big deal. At least to Billy it is. He’s not cuddled with anyone is such a long time. He definitely doesn’t cuddle his hookups. That’s way too intimate. Way too personal.

Billy Hargrove never thought of himself as a cuddler but as he pulls (Y/N) closer and feels her warm and soft against him, he thinks he might have been wrong about that. If this is what cuddling feels like, he’s definitely a cuddler.

So he closes his eyes again to fall back to sleep with the girl in his arms that changes everything.

“ Can’t believe you convinced me to skip school. You’re a bad influence Billy Hargrove. “

Driving along the roads of Huckley, sunshine flooding the streets, the two chew away on their late late breakfast to go. Having agreed that there was no point in going to school after having missed quite a bit, the two of them decided to just head over to HHTCY a little earlier than usually.

“ We were late anyway. And don’t pretend like you don’t enjoy it. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life. “

(Y/N) gasps “ did you just quote Star Wars to me ? Holy shit, Billy Hargrove is a nerd after all. “

“ Ah shut up. “

He doesn’t want her to shut up though. He’ll gladly listen to her ramble on about some nerdy movies he doesn’t really give a shit about if it means she’s happy. If it means he gets to see her smile.

“ So what’s on the agenda today ? “ Billy asks before taking another bite from his bagel.

“ There’s a uh — group session. “ she says, glancing at Billy. Though her eyes don’t meet his. Instead they rest on the bruises scattered across his face.

“ Why are you looking at me like that ? “

“ Mmm, you know, a lot of the kids there come from homes where they’ve experienced domestic violence. Talking about it helps them, maybe — “

“ — I’m not gonna talk about my feeling with some looney doctors “.

“ You could talk to me “.

Billy puts the car in park but doesn’t get out, just stares straight ahead trying to find the right words. He hasn’t had anyone to talk to in so long it’s hard and scary to change his ways. He wants to talk to her it’s just so much to unpack, half of it he hasn’t even dealt with himself.

“ I know that. “

“ Good, that’s all I want. Always, yeah ? “

He nods and places a soft kiss on the top of her head before getting out of the car and walking towards the big brick building.

Even her hair feels soft and warm, goddammit.

With every story shared Billy gets more and more angry. His blood keeps bubbling and boiling at the thought of what some of these kids have been through.

It makes him acutely aware of the bruises littering his skin. Though he’s a big guy, he can take it. These are kids. Innocent kids who don’t do anything wrong. They didn’t ask for this. The dysfunctional family dynamics. The frustration and the stress and the blame and the hurt.

What makes him even more angry, is that some of the adults in this room, professionals or not, don’t seem to grasp the situations. They have a lot of nice words the shower the kids with. They’re empty phrases though, written by someone who’s never had to go through the struggles he thinks can be overcome with positive thinking and focusing on the good in the world. The happy things.

“ Try to focus on the good things “

Enough. Enough.

Fucking enough.

“ That’s such bullshit. “

It’s the first time he’s ever spoken up in any session, ever, which means all eyes immediately focus solely on Billy. Then again, maybe it was also because of the swearing.

“ Would you like to participate in our discussion, Mr. Hargrove ? “ Lydia questions, still slightly perplexed by the fact that Billy of all people is suddenly showing interest in the conversation.

“ Sure. I said It’s bullshit ! “

“ Excuse me ? “

“ Oh you heard me. This whole thinking positive shit is old news. That stuff doesn’t work for someone who comes from a completely normal family and it most certainly doesn’t help when your dad thinks a new black eyes would really suit you. There’s no positive thoughts to fall back on when you’re all alone in your room with nothing but yelling from downstairs and the fear that once this fight is over you’re the next to feel the wrath.

A positive side doesn’t exist for most things in my life. In those kids’ lives. The good stuff is fine and the bad stuff is real fucking bad. Horrible. No happy thoughts for those days when you’re covered in bruises and blood from your nose courtesy of your father’s fist. You tell those kids that one day the good is gonna outweigh the bad. How can you be so sure ? Cause I can tell you right now, so far I can’t confirm that. “

“ Billy “ (Y/N) approaches him, placing her hand on his arm. He doesn’t shake her off though he’s not finished.

“ Stop telling the kids that the storm is gonna blow over. Maybe it will but the damage is done and It’s gonna weigh down on them for a long time. A long ass time. And you get so used to feeling nothing but anger and sadness. So when a good thing comes in your life, it’s fucking terrifying., because what if this too ends up leaving, what if you mess up this good thing ? “ he says then look over towards (Y/N) then back to Lydia “ You don’t tell ‘em that, do you ? “

Billy doesn’t wait for an answer, just rushes out the room, hands clammy at the anger and frustration cursing through his system.

He leans against the cool brick wall of the building, taking drag after drag from his cigarette trying to calm his nerves, as a pair of arms wrap around his middle from behind. (Y/N)’s places her head between his shoulder blades just holding him close for a moment. Billy thinks his heart might combust right there and then. She seems to have a magical ability to take away all the anger, all the pent up rage. And in its place there’s only calm.

The cigarette drops from his hand and he toes it out before placing his hands on hers, taking one of them in his and placing soft gentle kisses on her skin.

What is this girl doing to him ? And why is it both insanely scary and absolutely wonderful ?

Taglist:

@babygal-babygal / @anxiousamandapanda / @imjusthereforsupernatural / @chhhcherybomb / @tomarisela / @noodlenerd101 / @xxcxrolinexx / @bippity-boppity-boopa / @mcrmarvelloki /

#billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery fanfiction #dacre montgomery fanfic

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automarketking · 6 years ago

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1966 Chevrolet Chevy II Nova (San Mateo, Ca) $49,900 obo

You are looking at one heck of a build. Sprayed in an absolutely stunning coat of scarlet red gloss, the exterior slides very smoothly inside to a sharp looking tan cloth/leather combination interior that aims to please. Powered by a stroked out 408ci v8 and a Turbo 350 automatic transmission with a 3500 stall and slap shift, this car runs like it wants to jump out of its paint with 500 hp. With only 1k miles since completion this vehicle is like new, everything has been completely gone through. Features include but are not limited to P/b with Wilwood 4 wheel disc, rack & pinion steering, Am/fm, cd, heat, aluminum heads, stainless valves, Keith Black flat top pistons, 750 double pumper Holley 4bbl carb, a cam, lifters, Hooker headers, dual exhaust, Dana 60 rear with 3.54 gears, 4 core radiator with dual electric fans, Dakota digital dash, a chrome detailed engine bay, and a freshly gone through suspension. Not a dollar was spared when completing this vehicle, it has been meticulously maintained and garage kept since completion. Records, receipts and the build sheet are all available upon request.

Please give our friend Brian a call at 650-678-6831

#classic car for sale #classic cars for sake #classic cars for sale #classic car for sales #clsssicc cars for sales #classic muscle car for salee #classic muscle car for sales #classic muscle car for sale #muscle car #muscle cars #muscle cars for sale #car for sale #cars for sale #cars for sales #car for sales

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marksandrec · 6 years ago

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Are the Keith and Eugene in your header based off Agent Miller and Agent Miller?

They are! :3

I keep meaning to make, like, a master-list for the header. Maybe I’ll start on that tonight if the power stays on, lol. (We have some winter weather advisories.)

#try guys #new header #my edits #series: camp camp #anonymous #askbox #reply #ask

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eirian-houpe · 4 years ago

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Seven Sentence Sunday

Finally getting everything put together right on here now. I realized I missed this last week, and the week before I forgot the header image. So here it is in all its glory. Seven sentences from the next chapter of Disparate Pathways.

The smoky atmosphere in the wharf-side bar was an almost shocking contrast to the salty, stinging air outside. It was stifling, and rekindled the lingering claustrophobia Jefferson felt after his treatment at the hands of Jones and his ilk at the Cartel at his attempt to get himself back under; to see the assignment through.

His problem with Keith remained, however, and ignored, in spite of several and repeated texts, and calls - at no small risk - to his handler, Rab had only just responded with the location, and time to meet at the bar in the port district.

He glanced around as he walked in, to the casual observer nothing more than a guy looking for a place to sit in a crowded bar room. To Jefferson it was a lifeline. Entrances, exits, potential dangers, as well as potential assets, all taken in with a single sweep of his eyes. Of course, Rab was nowhere to be seen, and that didn’t surprise him. The man was always late - as if it gave him some kind of power over Jefferson to keep him waiting. There had been several times when, frustrated, he had been tempted to leave - especially those times when Rab insisted on meeting at the sex club up town.

Remember this is from the draft, so it may change before it gets posted. If you have questions, please hit up my ask box.

#rumbelle #seven sentence sunday #disparate pathways #asks welcome #i will always write jefferson

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zoetekohana · 7 years ago

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Voltron S05E06 “White Lion” thoughts:

Coran: “I’m afraid someone’s been ruggling your wimble, Lotor. Oriande is just an Altean folktale.” Remember Pidge once saying: “I’m Coran. Crazy words. Moustache.”

LOOK AT THEM SMILING AT EACH OTHER!!!!! I AM SERIOUSLY DYING FROM FEELS.

This is so eerie af.

My triangle, ladies and gentlemen. ;)

(Although I’m also really interested in a Lotor/Allura/Keith dynamic. Maybe next season?)

Pidge: “That’s a white hole!” Hunk: “Whoa, take that, theoretical physics.” Hahaha.

Lotor: “The wise stand back from the fire, fools are burned on the pyre. The mystic becomes one with the flame, the embers and he are the same.” Lance: “Is that like a song you’re working on? ‘Cause it sucks.” ...Lance really doesn’t like Lotor. Geez, I wonder why. /sarcasm

HE HAS ALTEAN MARKS!!!! GLOWING ALTEAN MARKS NO LESS!

Lotor: “The Mark of the Chosen. [...] That thing is a guardian. It will only worthy Alteans through.” I am so very intrigued. Also, this episode is going to contain loads of Lotura, isn’t it? I love it already.

SO MUCH SUSPENSE!

Her marks are glowing too (of course). :D

MUCH

LOTURA

//HEART EYES

Poor Coran, though. :(

Both Coran and Lance being so protective of Allura. It’s so sweet.

Let’s not forget that Haggar is eavesdropping on all of this through Shiro/Kuron. :///

They’re such a power couple, lbr.

Now that’s a lot of pink.

I AM GETTING MAJOR ATLANTIS: THE LOST EMPIRE VIBES HERE.

Awwww, omg, Lance is so worried about Allura’s well-being. That boy is so in love.

Shiro: “It’s like... Like I’m not myself.” hashtag not your shiro The clone theory is so real, guys.

Poor Axca. Having to “babysit” Zethrid and Ezor.

Whoa, that shot is gorgeous. (I think I’m going to use this as my liveblog header.)

Lotor: “You know, I envy you for growing up with King Alfor. I always wanted to be an explorer and learn about the universe. My father was only interested in conquering it. He once put me in charge of a planet for a year, running the Quintessence mining and getting to know the local population. Rather than employ the usual Galran methods of subjugation, I worked alongside the leadership of the planet, learning their customs. We would only extract as much Quintessence as could be replenished. And I enjoyed my time there quite a bit. When my father found out what was happening, he ordered me to destroy the planet. I refused, and he sent me away.” Allura: “At least you stood up for those people.” Lotor: “He destroyed them all. I was powerless to stop him. I spent the following centuries searching for clues about my Altean heritage, another culture destroyed by Zarkon.” Allura: “I’m glad you’re here to help me now. I never would have gotten here without you.” ... See; I’m so conflicted. I love this ship so much. I’m certain he is genuine about wanting to explore and learn about the universe. Unlike the corrupted Zarkon, I do think Lotor is capable of caring for others, and in this case he could actually care for Allura (a Zaggar 2.0 if you will). But ultimately Lotor does for Lotor and I’m sure if it’s for his own gain, he will not hesitate to betray Team Voltron and Allura.

But have all the Lotura caps anyways, because let’s still enjoy this ship. ;)

I do love how soft they smile at each other.

I really love the pink/purple aesthetic of these two.

Allura: “Look at these ancient markings. They’re beautiful.” I love how she (and Lotor) are such culture geeks.

Honestly, Oriande and The Temple of the Alchemists are so beautiful. :o

How could I not cap that?

SHE IS SO BADASS.

Even without training (Allura did tell Lance: “I haven’t been trained.” in the s4 finale), she’s still a trained Altean.

Lotor immediately calling for Allura when waking up in the Astral Plane. <3

Kimi no na Wa, anyone?

Lotor: “I will never yield. I will gain your secrets.” See... that line right there is so important. He’s ultimately in it for himself; so power-hungry.

Lotor: “Victory or death.” I think he should have used the BoM’s mantra knowledge or death in this case. ;)

A complete contrast to Allura, who gives up her own life.

THE AVATAR STATE!

“The secret is already within you.” My space princess, everyone.

Of course Lance notices Allura coming back. ;)

Someone is looking evil in the background...

Lance is still not okay with all this.

THAT CLIFFHANGER...

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #lotura #allurance #allura #zoe liveblogs #zoe liveblogs voltron #voltron spoilers #spoilers

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baileysayswhat · 6 years ago

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Well, it’s been a year. Truly. I haven’t blogged in a year! Not since my EPIK return to Korea (wink at y’all English teachers over there) for MinShik & Ara’s wedding.

And here those same people are celebrating their one year anniversary by having their first baby ON THAT DAY. That’s some Gattaca-level skill, I tell ya.

Lots has changed. LAWD. Yes. Grab yourself a low-carb snack because y’all about to get the deets.

Jobs

Two promotions at Grubhub and a sabbatical-turned-bowing-out at Titan Gym ALL IN THIS PAST ONE YEAR.

In January I became a Senior Sales Executive with Grubhub; it was a huge, out-of-the-blue honor and when I asked ‘what’s different than my current job?” my boss replied “Its what you’re already doing with the team, I’m just going to pay you for it.” How cool is that?!

Actual photo of said boss:

Seriously one of my favorite things in my career was in our first ever one on one development meeting last year (right *after* the Korea trip) the first thing I said was “I want you to know I’m in grad school for training and development and that’s what I want to do long term.”

His reply? “OK, let me hook you up with the right person who’s heading up training.” Literally the next week she got me in a classroom training new hires in a session 1x every 2 weeks. MONEY/MOUTH AND ALL THAT. When does that happen?!

And this past April when a new role opened up to become a sales trainer for new hires he recommended and she championed me for the role, which started May 1.

Y’all. I have never felt the Conan mantra of “If you work really hard and you’re kind, amazing things will happen” more. I joined Grubhub just to get a sales paycheck and have a regular schedule to pursue my passions and here this place that I thought would be a job I wasn’t going to put my heart into has given me such gifts. Managers that believe in me and CREATE JOBS that I wasn’t even aware of. I’m very blessed.

Now I’m the “Learning Solutions Associate” (ie. Non-Corporate Sales & Account Advisor Trainer) for all employees in those departments for Grubhub Inc. Nationwide. I’ve trained over 75 people in the last 5.5 months. That is bananas to me and I’m so grateful. All that in a year and a half at this company.

Because of that role shift and wrapping up grad school I knew that my time at Titan Gym was coming to a close. I have loved and sweated and bled and cried in that place – sometimes all at once – and I leave with so many good memories and relationships. I felt like I couldn’t be both throwing my heart (and fists) into learning & teaching Krav while also trying to originate a role at Grubhub.

So with a final rooftop drinking session and countless hugs I left (by choice) no longer an instructor at Titan Gym. I’m still a certified Krav Maga Level 1 Instructor through KMA and I know if I’m ever interested in getting back into it that Daniela and Ivo have my back. And if you need a place to kick ass, feel stronger or find mental toughness I will recommend Titan Gym to the moon and back again and again and again.

WHEW.

2. School

Yes, I finished my grad program at University of Wisconsin – Stout and now have my graduate certificate in Instructional Design. I need to frame that fancy piece of paper sometime soon.

3. Comedy

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE LAUGH SQUAD?! Oh man y’all. So last October in the week after I got back from Korea I auditioned for a ComedySportz House Team and was cast into the most perfect circle of weirdos by two insanely talented coaches who happened to have the exact same initials – HMS. So naturally our team name became “Pinafore” after the famous Gilbert & Sullivan comic opera ‘HMS Pinafore.’ I have still never to this day heard any music from it although I did briefly glance through the Wikipedia page.

No, I didn’t realize we were all serving fierce face. Or at least my genre of fierce face. Our team just had our final show on 10/6 and it has been a journey. I feel like I’ve grown with such a great team with depth and tears and joy. I have peed myself a little laughing so hard, which I can admit now that the team is done. I mean, I could have admitted it before but why BOTHER.

Truly I have loved the CSZ House Program; auditions for the next round are in November and I’m excited to see what the next group of people I get to fall in love with looks like!

Other things I’ve been blessed to yuk it up on/with: I got cast into a RIFF Music Improv camp which has had me perform 3x with a stone-cold group of short-form music improvisers that HAVE PIPES, y’all. Some of these people I’ve watched perform for years in music improv and it’s an honor to strap on a Britney mic and make up songs for an audience with them.

I’ve also done 2 seasons of MINt (Music Improv Night) at the Annoyance; such an open space to trying weird and beautiful things with music improv and our voices. If you’re looking for a community to fall in love with, the MINt crew is a good one. 4 teams every 4 months and you get such a wide range of experience, skills and strange, hilarious songs.

There’s been a few one-offs performing with friends’ groups and even a couple shows with some MI people I met in iO’s Music Program as an indie group named “AirBRB.”

I’m moving into a season when I’m not sure when my next show is; it’ll be light this next month, which is kind of a fun thing. I’ll miss it. But I think it’s healthy to have a breather and come back hungry, whenever the next show is. And you never know when someone might text you at 4pm about a show that night at 1030pm and you gotta be ready to make believe with the best!

4. Health

OOOOOHHHH fun. Let’s talk about it! Since last year when I got my Krav Maga instructor cert in July (shoutout to the 3am Protein Squad) I’ve let things slip a bit. And why not?! When you survive that kind of thing you deserve to let yourself chill. But…I didn’t really reign it in. I was doing ok; maintaining some cardio but I knew things needed to step up. I was getting a little burned out on Krav. Here’s my 7am face on the way to teach class:

I let myself write excuses and they added up. Once I was done punching/kicking regularly I did CrossFit for a few months – it was great and ya girl loves heavy weights – but the price was really high. Especially when I could be going out of town to our Phoenix office for work up to once a month, missing a week at a time. It was an expensive habit.

So I jumped back into going to LSAC (Lincoln Square Athletic Club) regularly – it’s been 3 weeks in and I’m kind of loving my schedule:

Mondays – Pole Class at Brass Ring (I KNOW) and it’s so fun. Such an empowering environment and an hour flies by. Its slow but I see progress! And thigh bruises.

Tuesdays – Workout at LSAC (trying to follow the schedule Brian (see Fridays) gave me the week before)

Wednesdays – Volleyball with friends at LPHS – y’all we had a double header last week and I burned 1,448 calories in 1 hour and 55 mins. WE WORKIN’.

Thursdays – Improv Day (aka rest and do some make believe in comedy class)

Fridays – Personal Training with Brian at LSAC

Saturdays – Yoga (at home right now using an Apple TV app but maybe at LSAC in the future)

Sundays – Intro to Olympic Weightlifting with Keith at LSAC (today was the first one; I did a 65lb bar snatch from shins to above my head! 9 times! Y’ALL! SHE BACK!)

Also I started attempting/doing a Keto & intermittent fasting on 10/1; it’s been a little rough but we’re getting into the groove of it. That first week, candidly, sucked. The low carb/Keto flu thing is for real. But now I’m used to it; the 12-8 fasting part is honestly not that hard now. Very manageable. It’s more the carb counting thing of keto that is taking slow (but progressive) shape.

5. The Rest

a. Photography

I know everyone has a camera in their smartphone – I’m doing some photography learning – I bought myself a Canon T6i DSLR last year RIGHT BEFORE starting grad school so I hid it in the closet from myself until school was done in May. I’ve taken some pictures I’m proud of and I’m working my way through a couple Lynda.com (grad school got me a free account) photography courses to learn the camera. I’m a student of it right now for sure but here’s a few photos I’m proud of:

b. Norway

I found out last year that I’m 1/8 Norweigan; that doesn’t sound like ‘a lot’ but honestly I’ve never really thought about it. I generally classify my heritage as ‘SPF 75’ but have always known our family is generally German with some crossover to other classically pale squads (Irish, probably English, other various tribes of roving wild-haired people on/around Hadrian’s wall, etc).

Last year in October someone posted in this Women of Chicago Comedy Facebook group I’m in about a Norwegian TV show that 1. Flies you to Norway and 2. You good-naturedly compete with other Norwegian-Americans to win $50,000. SO I APPLIED OF COURSE and got to ask my mom and grandparents questions over iMessage about my heritage. Apparently one of my great-grandmas was first-generation American, born in the US. Her parents both emigrated from Norway in the early 1900s to Washington State, near Ballard. So…if one of the 8 people that made me is full-blooded Norwegian…then by the power of Punnett Squares or whatever that means I’m 1/8 Norwegian, right?

ANYWAYS I did not get cast but I just realized they’re auditioning again so I’m going to throw ye olde application back in there. 1. Because it sounds fun and 2. Norway is GORGEOUS and 3. I did promise Neal Carlin that I would apply again. He’s gone in Italy doing an insanely cool apprenticeship so the least I can do is fill out info about my LIFE.

Our family doesn’t really do any celebrations of heritage. My great-grandma Harriman (she of the Norwegian blood) made lefse for Christmas, but I never really understood the connection as a kid. She passed when I was in high school and none of us kids ever learned to make it with her. Also, keep your traps shut but my real goal if I get on this show is to learn to make Fattigman cookies and then make them with my Nana for Christmas. KEEP MY SECRETS, INTERNET.

I think there’s a real beauty in appreciating where you came from and knowing you are a part of a legacy of choices – good ones, bad ones, ones that had to be made one way or another – and then choosing how you want your part of the story to be written. Sitting under the Northern lights and walking on glaciers would be a pretty jaw-dropping moment in life; 10/10 I’d be crying frozen little tears of joy. So we’ll see! I’m applying!

c. Travel

I’m going to DC in less than 2 weeks – I’ve never been to DC AND I haven’t seen David Brown in 4+ years in person. That’s bananas to me. I genuinely cannot believe that there’s not some time/space blanket fold that I jumped through because it CAN’T have been four years.

But the internet says it has. So myself, Bekah, Adam & Dana (plus maybe their dog Millie) are all meeting up with David in DC October 25-27 and I could SQUEAL I am so excited.

I went to Ohio in March just to see my loves Xander and Trace and get drag-ified myself. I learned that clip on earrings are the reason beauty = pain and that stick on nails are NOT for me. But I looked great.

d. Experiences

I saw my first Broadway shows in the past year – I don’t know what took me so long! I saw Hello Dolly, Book of Mormon, Hamilton. Les Mis, Falsettos – I WANT TO SING EVERYTHING.

I went to the Shedd Aquarium on Thanksgiving – it was BEAUTIFUL and uncrowded and my ticket was free – cue v v thankful.

I saw Conan O’Brien’s show in Chicago and met Aaron Bleyart, who’s blog(s) I have followed for over TEN YEARS.

Passed my Krav Level 3 student test and Muay Thai Level 2!

Survived the Polar Vortex in Chicago when it was over -20 degrees below zero. This is the *inside* of my windows.

My parents came to Chicago for Father’s Day! The umbrella is my Mom hiding from the camera as all 3 of us eat Chicago Dogs outside the Field Museum. Also, I went to the Field Museum.

I went to Arizona 3 times – February, May & August – for work and to visit family. What a cool, weird mix of colors. I saw the Grand Canyon and cried a little behind my sunglasses as my family pretended to not notice.

I saw a Seattle-based artist, SYML, who’s work I love not once but TWICE. Also saw Dean Lewis at the same concert and fell in love w his new album.

Saw a bajillion improv shows, learned which lipsticks look good on my skin tone and saw so many people I love.

What. A. Year.

More updates, more often, from this face:

A Blog I Pay For and Rarely Update: UPDATED! Well, it's been a year. Truly. I haven't blogged in a year! Not since my EPIK return to Korea (wink at y'all English teachers over there) for MinShik & Ara's wedding.

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automarketking · 6 years ago

Photo

1971 Chevrolet Nova (Buffalo, NY) $22,500 obo

You are looking at one heck of a build, the cranberry with black stripes is sure to grab attention as it flows seamlessly inside to a matching black vinyl interior. Powered by a zz4 350 and a turbo 350 automatic with a shift kit, this Nova has only 5k on the drivetrain. Features include but are not limited to 4 wheel disc P/b, am/fm, cd, Hooker headers, a Holley 4bbl and ladder bars. More info regarding the build can be seen on the build sheets within the photos, the vehicle has been meticulously maintained and garage kept throughout its life. records and receipts are available upon request.

Please give our friend Keith a call at 716-870-6166

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vintageautoracing · 5 years ago

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The Historic Sports Car Club will organise one of the UK’s most prominent historic racing festivals of the season at this weekend’s Oulton Park Gold Cup (29-31 August).

From a very full 21-race weekend, stand-outs will include two races for Formula Junior to mark 60 years of the category at Oulton Park. To celebrate this landmark, the famous Gold Cup trophy will be presented to the aggregate winner of the Formula Junior races.

The man to beat in the double-header for the FJHRA/HSCC Silverline Historic Formula Junior Championship is undoubtedly Cam Jackson in his superb Brabham BT2 after a double win at Brands Hatch. In fact, prolific winner Jackson will be bidding for a clean sweep of six wins in three cars this weekend. His chief rival, as at Brands, will be former Formula 3000 racer Mark Shaw in his Brabham BT6.

From the capacity grid, a strong front-engined field will deliver a race within a race and leading contenders will include Justin Fleming and Iain Rowley in Lola Mk2s and Mallory Park winner Jonathon Hughes (Terrier Mk4).

In the HSCC Historic Formula Ford Championship Jackson will continue his bid to win a third straight title in three different cars: this year is the unfashionable March 709. At Brands, Linton Stutley took the fight to Jackson in his Royale RP3 and two more mighty contests are likely. Joining the fray is rapid youngster Horatio Fitz-Simon who joins fellow front-runner Pierre Livingstone in the Speedsport squad, while Matt Wrigley, Rob Wainwright and Danny Stanzl all have podium ambitions.

The HSCC’s Dunlop Saloon Car Cup builds on the former Super Touring Trophy to broaden the range of eligible cars. New on the grid will be experienced historic touring car racer Simon Garrad in his newly-prepared Nissan Skyline R32. After selling his Super Touring Renault Laguna to Germany, Garrad commissioned local engineering ace Ric Wood to build him a Skyline for use in the DSCC and this will be the car’s first race weekend.

Mark Wright is an established front-runner in his Ford Sierra RS500, BMW M3s are entered for Mark Smith and Nicholas Bartlett, while former BTCC racer Jason Hughes will be a pacesetter in his Super Touring Vauxhall Vectra.

Some of the most spectacular single-seaters of a generation will deliver the glory in two races for the HSCC’s Aurora Series, with a good contingent of Formula 2 cars. Matt Wrigley will be the benchmark in his March 782 and up against him will be another March 782 in the hands of F2 newcomer Brian Morris. This is the ex-Ghinzani car coming back to racing after a long lay-off.

Running within the Formula Atlantic class will be Bolton’s Callum Grant on his debut race weekend with his March 79B and his pace should be good despite the power disadvantage to the 2-litre F2 cars.

The Historic Road Sports Championship is typified by sporting competition from large and varied grids. Setting the recent pace has been current champion Kevin Kivlochan in his stunning AC Cobra. Kivlochan hoped to carry on where he left off at Brands last month but knew that the return to the grid of the Lotus Elan of John Davison was going to present a real challenge. Sure enough, Davison won narrowly at Brands and now that battle will be rejoined at Oulton Park.

No less than six Morgan Plus 8s will be aiming to get into the action and it is Richard Plant who could head this squadron of Malvern’s finest. From the smaller-engined cars, look out for the Ginetta of Mark Godfrey and the Elan of Jonathan Rose, while Nigel Griffiths brings another AC Cobra to the mix.

The HSCC 70s Road Sports Championship is one of the club’s core championships and has been delivering great value racing for competitors for more than 25 years. The man they have to beat is double champion Jeremy Clark who made his intentions of completing a hat-trick clear by winning the belated season-opener at Brands Hatch in mid-July.

Heading the challengers to Clark is Kevin Kivlochan, who switches to his Morgan Plus 8 for the 70s race, and he will be tough to contain at Oulton Park. Meanwhile, Dave Karaskas, another driver with wide-ranging experience, was a major threat to Clark at Brands Hatch in his TVR 3000M.

The HSCC Guards Trophy is one of the weekend’s longer racer with a 40-munute enduro featuring mandatory pit-stops and optional driver changes. At least seven cars from the Chevron B6 and B8 range are due on the grid and several of them are potential race winners.

Last time out, a mid-race safety car set up a storming finish as father and son Westie and Sam Mitchell scored a memorable debut win in their B8. Elder son Ben is due to share with dad at Oulton but they have plenty of rivals including two of the cars that were hunting them down in the closing stages at Brands Hatch.

The hard-charging Andy Newall now has the B6 that scored many wins over three decades with Michael Schryver, while single-seater and GT ace Michael Lyons again teams up with former BTCC star Anthony Reid in a rare Lenham. John Spiers (TVR Griffiths) and John Davison (Lotus Elan 26R) head the GT pack, while the field is graced by a rare outing for the stunning Lotus 47 of James Claridge.

More single-seaters from the 1970s and early 1980s will contest two races for the HSCC Classic Formula 3 Championship and URS Classic Formula Ford 2000 Series.

Topping the F3 entry will be Brands winners Andrew Smith (March 783) and young Benn Tilley (March 743). Each took a win at Brands Hatch and Smith had the edge on pace in Kent. Ranged against the Marches will be a gaggle of Ralts, notably the RT3 of former champion Gaius Ghinn and the RT1 of Keith White.

Topping the URS FF2000 pack is another young ace, Ben Stiles in his Van Diemen RF82. Leading the chase of Stiles will be Benn Simms, Anthony Hancock and Andrew Smith, not to be confused with the other Andrew Smith on the grid!

Monday is a busy day for contenders in the HSCC Historic Touring Car Championship with a qualifying session and two races. Peter Hallford flies the stars and stripes in his Mustang but will face a ferocious challenge from a gaggle of potent Lotus Cortinas. Notably, local ace and leading modern GT racer Jon Minshaw joins the fray in a Lotus Cortina and will surely be a major contender.

Joining Minshaw in the Cortina pack are Mike Gardiner, Richard Belcher and Roger Stanford and this quartet of cars is sure to give the rumbling Mustang a hard time. Mixing it with the Cortinas should be reigning champion Bob Bullen in one of five Ford Anglias in the field. From the ranks of the smaller-engined cars will come Mini racers Roger Godfrey and Barry Sime, while heading the Imp pack will be the Singer Chamois of Steve Platts.

For sheer spectacle in historic racing, the HSCC Thundersports series takes some beating and the weekend will deliver a wonderfully varied field of sports-racing and GT cars for a pair of races.

Two cars stand out at the head of the entry and both are sensational crowd pleasers from the days of the mighty Can-Am sports-racing cars. Winner of the first race at Brands Hatch was the awesome McLaren M8F of Dean Forward and the 850bhp monster will be tough to beat at Oulton Park. Meanwhile, the driver of Richard Dodkins’ equally huge March 717 is yet to be finally confirmed but a year ago Calum Lockie made it fly.

From the ranks of the 2-litre cars come a gaggle of rapid contenders, topped by the racing return of the famous Chevron B26 ‘chocolate drop’ now in the hands of John Emberson. The B23 of James Claridge and the Osella PA3 of John Spiers are other podium contenders while Mike Fry (Lola T86/90) tops the Sports 2000 division.

Monday’s action includes four Formula Ford races and two of them are for the Classic Formula 1600 Championship. The shortened season kicked off at the Brands Hatch last month and now an excellent grid will gather for rounds three and four at Oulton Park.

Just as he did in Formula Junior, Cam Jackson started his season with a perfect double in his Van Diemen RF80 and he heads to Oulton Park in pursuit of a total of six wins in three different cars.

Out to stop the Jackson steamroller is Formula Ford veteran Rick Morris (Royale RP29), along with rising stars Jordan Harrison (Royale RP21), Samuel Harrison (Royale RP29) and Henry Chart (Van Diemen RF81). Meanwhile, pacesetter Mike Gardiner (Crossle 32F) should be a major threat to Jackson.

The Dunlop Historic Trophy for Pre ’66 Jaguars will be a special one-hour race during the Gold Cup weekend, with mandatory pit stops and the option of two drivers.

Inevitably, the faster E-types will set the overall pace at the head of the field and an intriguing contest is in prospect as Jon Minshaw and his son Jack race against each other. They have previously shared E-types in longer racer and Jack has shown tremendous form given his modest experience. Now he will go head-to-head with dad (in two of dad’s cars) as the third generation of racing Minshaw starts to make its mark.

Other leading E-types include those of John Spiers, Martin Melling and Jason (brother of Jon) Minshaw, Jamie Boot and Jonathan Hughes. Away from the E-type ranks, Richard and Tom Butterfield and Glenn Pearson/Peter Dorlin will battle in Mk1 Saloons and Rick Willmott represents the XK

#Vintage Auto Racing #racing #cars #motorsport #Historic Sports Car Club

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tipsoctopus · 5 years ago

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Opinion: A Season To Remember – Bolton Wanderers 1994/95

Reaching Wembley is reason enough for a season to be a memorable one, so for Bolton to get to place under the Twin Towers twice in the same season made the 1994/95 season all the more memorable.

Manager Bruce Rioch had assembled an exciting team at Burnden Park, with the team in a rich vein of form and competing well in the cups.

Two seasons before, Bolton had won the Second Division title (what is now League One) and had also knocked holders Liverpool out of the FA Cup, after taking them to a replay.

Then in 1993/94, Rioch’s men went on an amazing Cup run, beating three Premiership teams before losing by a single goal to Oldham Athletic in the Sixth Round. Their league form took a hit as a result as they Bolton seemed to save it up for the Cup, ending the season in 14th place.

The season did not start at all well as they drew their first game 3-3 at Grimsby before losing their next two games against Bristol City and Middlesbrough. The Bristol City defeat would be their last at Burnden Park for the rest of the season.

Bolton’s first victory of the season came in their final game in August as they beat Millwall 1-0 at Burnden Park. Four days later, they hit four past Stoke City to climb up to 9th in the table.

The inconsistent form returned, however, as Bolton would only win one of their next four league games in September, a 3-0 win at Luton Town.

One positive that could be taken from September was Bolton’s comprehensive 3-0 win at Premiership Ipswich Town in the Coca Cola Cup. They would follow this up with a 1-0 win in the second leg at Burnden Park to give them a resounding 4-0 aggregate win. Sheffield United would await them in the Third Round.

October started with a John McGinlay winner to take all three points off Derby at Burnden Park before three consecutive draws against Burnley, Oldham Athletic and Port Vale.

A win over Sheffield United in the Coca Cola Cup put Bolton through to the Fourth Round. This must have given them a kick-start as they then put a run of four wins together, scoring ten goals on that run and conceding only once. They had quietly climbed up to third in the table.

Two away defeats in four days, first to Wolves and then Barnsley at the end of November put a swift halt to the unbeaten run.

On the 30th November, Bolton tore West Ham United apart at Upton Park in the Fourth Round of the Coca Cola Cup. Two John McGinlay goals and a third from David Lee put Bolton into the Quarter Finals.

Bolton followed these defeats up with a very good December, winning three games, drawing two and only losing once, to an Andy Hunt winner for West Brom at The Hawthorns. They ended 1994 in sixth place, taking up the fourth and final play-off place in the table.

1995 started with a 1-0 win over Reading in the League, Simon Coleman bagging the only goal of the game. Five days later, Bolton faced a trip to the South Coast where they were resoundingly beaten 3-1 by Portsmouth.

Four days after this defeat, Bolton faced yet another Premiership team in Norwich City, in the Quarter Finals of the Coca Cola Cup.

David Lee scored the only goal of the game for Bolton in front of 17,029 fans at Burnden Park to set up a Semi-Final with Swindon Town, also of the First Division. Liverpool and Crystal Palace were the other two semi-finalists.

A 0-0 draw at Vicarage Road took Bolton up to third in the league. Two consecutive 5-1 home wins Charlton Athletic and then Wolves took Bolton to the top of the table for the first time in the season.

A 1-1 draw at Notts County was followed up by the First Leg of the Semi-Final of the Coca Cola Cup Semi-Final against Swindon Town.

Wanderers went a goal up from Alan Stubbs to give Bolton’s fans the opportunity to start dreaming of a Wembley Cup Final. Two goals from Swindon’s Peter Thorne gave the visitors the advantage for the second leg.

Before the Second Leg was played, Bolton had three games to play in the league. They beat Barnsley and Southend United at home but lost 2-1 at the Baseball Ground to Derby County, despite Jason McAteer giving Bolton a half-time lead.

In the Second Leg, things went from bad to even worse for Bolton as Jan Aage Fjortoft scored on 57 minutes to give Swindon a 3-1 lead and surely a place at Wembley. Instead, Bolton scored three goals in 24 minutes to go through 4-3 on aggregate. The goals came from Jason McAteer (who had played for the Republic of Ireland in the World Cup the previous summer), Mixu Paatelainen and finally John McGinlay after 88 minutes.

Two wins and two draws followed in the League but all thoughts were on Wembley and the Coca Cola Cup Final on 2nd April. Their opponents would be Liverpool, who beat Crystal Palace 1-0 in both home and away legs of the other Semi-Final.

The 1995 Coca Cola Cup Final was all about one man, and sadly for Bolton it wasn’t one of their players.

It was Steve McManaman’s day as he tore the Bolton defence apart from the right-wing, toying with opponents and scoring both of Liverpool’s goals in a 2-1 win. He was the deserved winner of the Alan Hardaker Trophy, given to the Man of the Match in the League Cup Final.

Alan Thompson scored less than a minute after McManaman grabbed his second of the day, to give Bolton some hope. It wasn’t to be as the Premiership big boys held out to win their first silverware for five years. It must have been sweet payback for the FA Cup defeat in 1993 for the Liverpool fans.

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A 1-0 win away to Swindon was then followed up three days later by a win of the same scoreline at home to West Brom.

Luton then held Bolton to a goalless draw at Burnden Park before a 1-0 defeat at Tranmere Rovers started to get the nerves jangling.

Sunderland were the visitors to Burnden Park with five league games left to play and it was fans-favourite “Super” John McGinlay who fired in the only goal of the game in front of just over fifteen thousand fans.

Bolton traveled down to Reading sitting in second place in the table. Reading were doing very well in the league and were having a great season. They started the game in fifth place.

It was Reading who left Elm Park with all three points in a 2-1 victory. Bolton’s nerves got the better of them and the defeat at Elm Park was followed by another defeat, this time to Oldham Athletic.

A John McGinlay goal at Stoke was enough to get a point for Bolton in their trip to the Potteries. A 1-1 draw at home to neighbouring rivals Burnley in the last game of the season meant that Bolton ended the season in third position. If they wanted to gain promotion to the Premiership, they’d have to go about it the hard way, through the Play-Offs.

Due to the reduction of teams in the Premiership from the start of the following season, only one team went up automatically from the First Division in 1994/95. That lucky team was Middlesbrough, who won the championship, but only three points ahead of Reading in second place.

Reading would face Tranmere Rovers in the Play-Offs and Bolton would play Wolves in the other Semi-Final.

In the First Leg of the Semi-Final, Steve Bull put Wolves ahead with a header at the near post. Bolton had Peter Shilton in goal at the ripe old age of 44 and he couldn’t stop Bull’s powerful header go past him into the back of the net.

Within a minute of the restart, World Cup star Jason McAteer hit a great equaliser from at least 25 yards out, his eighth goal of the season.

Mark Venus then headed in from close range to give Wolves the lead again within four minutes of McAteer’s long-range effort to give them a 2-1 lead going into the second leg at Burnden Park three days later.

Just over 20,000 fans crammed into the old Burnden Park ground for the second leg and John McGinlay scored twice to take Bolton back to Wembley for the second month in a row.

Reading would be the opponents at Wembley after they had won 3-1 on aggregate over Tranmere Rovers.

Reading raced into a two-goal lead after 12 minutes, Lee Nogan and Adrian Williams netting for The Royals. The Royals were awarded a penalty on 34 minutes and Stuart Lovell’s effort was pushed away by Keith Branagan in the Bolton goal.

Bolton fought their way back into the game when with a quarter of an hour to go, Owen Coyle netted for the Lancashire club.

Dutchman Fabian deFreitas scored with four minutes to go to level the match and take it to extra time. Mixu Paatelainen scored just before half-time in extra time to give Bolton the lead for the first time in the match.

DeFreitas scored Bolton’s fourth to seal their place in the Premiership the following season. Reading’s player-manager Jimmy Quinn made it 4-3 with a minute to go but Bolton held on for a famous win.

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The summer 1995 was one of great change at Burnden Park. Manager Bruce Rioch spent over £12 million bringing in Dennis Bergkamp and David Platt in from Italy. The downside for the Bolton fans was that Rioch had left Bolton for Arsenal early in June and that they were his first signings at the North London club!

Jason McAteer also left Bolton and joined Liverpool, the team that beat Bolton in the Coca Cola Cup Final.

Bolton would struggle in the 1995/96 season and finished bottom of the Premier League. They only won eight of their 38 league games, nine points off safety. Bruce Rioch would guide Arsenal to fourth place in the Premiership but would leave after only one season at Highbury.

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