#but chp 14 is like The Big Event

[bonerot19]

I fear this fic may have too much angst?

can a fic have too much angst if it's long as fuck? at what point is it too much? I beg you to tell me your opinions on this. should I cut some angst?

[jolalibrary]

4. green smoke

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter four of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.7k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] meet cute, flirting. fluff. flirting in person and over IG. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used, you wear a date outfit but not specified and the shoes have heels but not mentioned what kind. minor discussion of past canon events incl. drugs. no use of y/n. an: if this as a friends episode this would be called "the one where they talk"

prev chapter | frankie's ig

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

Friday soon arrives.

It comes hand-in-hand with a tumultuous storm, bringing with it ominous rumbles echoing through your house. The air feels charged with tension, wrung tight, all sense—as if it’s holding its breath while the world around seems to retreat into darkness. Even if the time on your laptop says 14:43.

Your gaze fixates on beads of rain running down the window, all racing one another—like you have been for several minutes. The steady patter provides a rhythmic backdrop to your solitude, interrupted only by the occasional sighs that escape your lips and the soft tapping of your pencil against the notebook—a feeble attempt at pretending you’re concentrating.

Pretend is the optimum word.

Merely putting on a show of focusing on the task at hand. In reality, your eyes keep flicking to your phone—the one lying silent on the counter, eagerly anticipating the next notification that’ll make it illuminate.

Your work, the one thankfully with a deadline of next week, continues to sit ignored—barely considered, never mind plotted. Because it isn’t what fills your mind.

It’s him.

Just thoughts of him—mind populated with vivid memories that refuse to fade, unable to stop lingering on the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles or his infectious laugh. The one which has dug itself a place into the walls of your home, lit it up.

Then, you think of his lips, the ones that are purposeful, all heavenly. The mere thought of them sends a shiver down your spine, a longing present, spreading—

Unloading a delivery and you’re falling on me.

It's difficult not to smile at his message.

Something he effortlessly elicits from you now. Has done so since the very beginning. A thing he continues to do so the more the two of you speak.

It's giddy, almost teenage-like, the way your heart scampers to catch itself as your fingers try to pretend they're not darting to reply.

Excuse me? Rain. Oh, that is such a dad joke. It was. I’m pretty proud of it. Bet it made you smile. I will not confirm or deny. So that means it did. Shut up.

Thumbs swirling over the screen, you roll your lips, toes twitching on the floor as you grin.

So, how big is the candle going to be in the middle of the table? Ummm, appropriately sized for a restaurant? Hmm, I have only gone on dates with inappropriately sized candles. Are you flirting with me when I’m at work? Are you saying that like you don’t flirt with me when I’m at work? In my defence, you choose your own hours. Do you mind me flirting with you? Not even a little bit. Good. Because guess what I’m wearing right now? Hopefully nothing. I���m wearing sweats and a baggy T-shirt. Still hot. Get back to work, Butterscotch.

You know it’s not long—a handful of hours until you’ll be across from him.

Likely with your smile hurting your cheeks, eyes unable to stand looking away from him for more than a few minutes. Unable to explain or rationalise how straightforward it is with him, how natural it feels to get swept up in all of this and find yourself wanting to be around him.

Something you try to put to the back of your mind, to not clock-watch, not count down. Doing well at it until you hear your phone buzz and see his name appear on your screen.

The laundry you're putting away ignored, the item dropped from your hand to the floor, before wiping your hands on your thighs, taking a measured breath, then lifting the phone to swipe it.

His voice fills your ear almost immediately. All hello and your name, a can you hear me? following.

And your heart skips a beat—missing a whole thud against your ribs as you stare at the outfit hanging on the closet door.

“I’m really sorry—“

And your heart falls. Descends gradually, like a feather freefalling. Doing so until it has nowhere else to go but sit in the hollow void. Disappointment beating, pulsating.

“—Harold… he had to leave early, his heart was playing up and he said he’d come back. But I can’t make him do that, wouldn’t be able to enjoy ourselves if he just—"

“—Frankie—“

“—And I’ve tried to move the reservation, rang the restaurant. But, they’re booked up and I really want to take you there—”

“—Frankie?”

You brush the fabric, the hanger holding on to the top of the door with sheer will as you do so between thumb and finger. Half-smiling—even still. Listening to the way he takes a breath, to the way he cares so much.

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, swallowing, shoving the dismay down. “I… promise.”

The voice you hear back is soft. So tinged with sadness, and regret, you half-want to call him Butterscotch just to make him laugh. “You sure?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you reassure him, comfort him—voice steady as you do so, "We can reschedule. It's not a problem."

A moment of silence follows, with a sense of letdown settling in the air like fog. It sits there, resting, hanging. Because even if you know it’s just a minor adjustment, a twinge of disappointment still seeps in. Not so much a sharp pang, but a lingering weight that makes your shoulders sag, as though everything had deflated like a balloon slowly losing air.

“Baby… I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, a smile making its way onto your face despite the circumstances. "There's always next time."

“Not drove you away then?” he half-laughs, one you imagine is a little forced.

“Not even a little bit.”

Sighing, you swear you hear him smile with it. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You grin, nothing but light and easy, “Just make sure next time you can show up, that’ll be a good start."

Frankie laughs, it flowing down your ear before it’s joined by a promise that he will and he can call you later, if you like? A thing which sounds like a good idea, even more so when it's followed by the fact he wishes he could stay—talk, but you know. Nodding to no one but yourself as you bid him goodbye, leaning against the wall��hanging up, full of bittersweet.

You let your head fall against it, rolling it there as your eyes flick back up at your clothes, lingering over it.

And an idea appears.

It grows—smothering over sadness before it blooms.

Then, you’re grinning. One almost as large as you do when he makes you giggle. Almost.

You’re thankful the sign still says open when you step out of your car—fingers tugging at fabric, ensuring it sits how it’s supposed to.

Even for a surprise, you wanted to look as picture-perfect as you should have been entering the restaurant. The paper bags catch your leg, noise crinkling against the air as you yank on the handle—entering, being washed in wood chippings, bleach and paint.

For a moment, one stuck between time and space, you look. Glance. Unsure where to find him, until your eyes land on him and find his head lifting at the sound of your entering.

Whatever Frankie had been in his hand dropped, all forgotten. His mouth parting at the sight of you. Taking you in. Sweeping brown, surprised eyes all over you as heat rises up your neck and brushes over your ears.

“I know I’m a little overdressed for buying a hammer, but…”

Mouth falling open, he looks torn between grinning and speaking. “What are you…”

Shrugging, watching his eyes roam up and down the outfit you’d chosen. The one that had been on the hanger for days—one you’d not thought could be replaced by anything else.

“Well,” you begin, smirking, “My date got caught up at work and I’d been really looking forward to seeing him.”

Frankie smiles, hand rubbing along his jaw as he stares.

“But then, someone told me there’s a secret restaurant here. One behind a metal door that says, Staff Only?”

Dropping his hand, and swiping his tongue across his lips—he slowly moves around the register. Coming to join you as you hold the bags up, the heels of your shoes clicking on the shop floor tiles as you meet him halfway.

“I also suspect that you might not have eaten, since you've been alone for most of the day.”

It’s at that moment his stomach roars. It grinds, what you assume is coffee, before groaning inside of him as he claps a hand on his apron.

“The only problem is,” you say, narrowing your eyes, scrunching your nose. “I… I didn’t know what you would like, so I might have bought a ridiculous amount of food.”

Taking a bag, his eyes widen when he opens it. “You’re staying, right? To help me?”

Reaching inside the bag he didn’t take, you pull out a single, battery-powered candle. “It’s a date.”

He gives you a wide smile, his eyes twinkling with happiness. "I just need to lock up," he says.

You watch with a flutter of excited nervousness as he moves around the store, flipping the sign on the door from 'Open' to 'Closed', and then securing the door. The lock clicks into place, echoing in the quiet store. He then proceeds to shut off the lights, plunging the store into a soft, inviting darkness lit only by the glow from the streetlights outside.

Turning back to you, he extends a hand.

"Shall we?" he asks, his voice filled with anticipation. You place your hand in his, feeling the warmth spreading through your fingers.

As you walk together towards the back of the store, a tinge of excitement flutters in the air. The 'Staff Only' sign looms above the door like a secret entrance to a place you shouldn't be, but with a gentle gesture, he ushers you inside.

You don't miss the way his fingers brush your lower back, the heat they ignite up your spine as his chest meets your back, face close to yours. Lingering, eyes sweeping over you.

"Lemme just..." he whispers, elongating it, before he bends to pull you a chair out—one with three wheels, no back—fingers sliding up to brush over your shoulders as you sit down.

“Careful.”

Swallowing, you suppress the effect he's having on you, forcing a smirk. “Oh, I’ll try, Morales. Don’t want you to have to fill out the accident book.”

“Harold would murder me.”

Snorting, you watch him join you—taking the candle from your hand, flicking it on and placing it directly in the middle before the two of you begin taking food out. He gazes at bundled packaged burgers, stealing a fry from the bag before it’s laid out over the desk.

“So, as it’s our third date.” His eyes flick to you, mid-bite of his food as you twirl a fry in your fingers. “I get to ask you challenging questions, right?”

“Fuck,” he says, under his breath. Grinning. “Alright, let me have it.”

Nudging him with the tip of your shoe he laughs. “Okay. You and Luca’s mom?”

“Ah.”

Grabbing a napkin, he wipes his mouth. “You don’t have to worry.”

“And as everyone in history knows, those words are how people stop worrying.”

Smirking, he turns on the wheely stool, facing you, knees abutting yours. “We haven’t been together since he was born—we… we weren’t even together by the time he reached six months. He… he doesn’t know any different. We have things we say, and truly, she’s a fantastic mom, we have a great co-parenting situation.”

“Okay.”

His fingers land on your knee, dancing over them, light and feathery as he sighs. Heavy. Weighted. It makes you swallow, makes you want to dig your fingers into your leg to stop yourself worrying, thinking—overdramatising whatever it is.

Scratching his head, he rolls his tongue from his cheek to the front of his teeth. “I wasn’t a good person then… a lot of shit had happened—I’d left the service, found myself… haunted, I guess? Me and her, we met, we… seemed good. She seemed good. And then, I…”

Your hand slides over his, one of your fries still in hand as you do. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I want to.”

Nodding, he half smiles.

And then he does.

He tells you about his days in the army—and the sleepless nights when he was back home. The sense of loss he felt without it, the uniform that meant nothing when he joined a regular job. How flying helicopters for people with money who had no cares in the world began to make him hollow, carving a piece inside of him that didn’t fill with laughter at barbecues and trivia nights. He tells you how he’d rambled to someone about the lack of sleep, before he found a little white bag in his locker—an opportunity, a chance to not overthink.

That it had stayed there for days, almost a week until there had been news about someone he had once worked with.

Then he explained how it wasn’t a problem, but it also very much was. How he was lost, drowning—that people reached out, but the lights had been on, but no one was home. How it became a coping mechanism, a small dose to take the ache away—before he learnt he was going to be a dad. Her worries about him making her ignore the signs, much further on than they thought—and then, one month later, how he failed a drug test.

Trace amounts, barely anything, but still plenty.

His license, revoked—paused. His future dwindled, a baby due to arrive, one he’d heard the heartbeat off at the same time as he found himself at the threat of being alone. A second chance dangled, offered—do better, Frank. Don’t be selfish.

“—but, I didn’t change. Don’t change.”

Your heart falls, and descends.

Watching him shake his head, grabbing a handful of fries before stuffing them into his mouth as he chews, and you pick at one from your own box.

“Things were good—Luca, he had ten toes, ten fingers. He was great, happy. It made us being good seem real? But, it lingered, y’know? If work kept me later, there was this distrust, this question. And I couldn’t blame her, didn’t. Never would either. I broke that, I know I did. But…”

“It wasn’t healthy?”

Shrugging, he swallows, before nodding. “Then, I helped a friend, one from my squad. Had to… it was dangerous. I was gone longer than I said—and she worried, panicked. I knew before I left that when I got back I’d likely find my stuff packed—not that I blame her. I know we tried. But, I broke it. But now we’re better… better co-parents than partners, you know?”

Nodding, you chew, rolling the salt on your lips together. A beat passes, ice clanging in the drinks, cartons scratching against the table as the two of you eat.

“That was probably a lot.”

“It’s okay. Are you… are you good now?”

Nodding, he chews another fry. “Clean since Luca was born. Five years, fifty-seven days.”

“Well, I know this might be weird to say, but I’m proud of you.”

Smiling, he chews his cheek, meeting your eyes for the first time since he began sharing. “You’re a bit too good for me, you know that?”

Smirking, you steal one of his fries. “Oh, a hundred per cent. You might have a bunch of followers and good taste in paint colours, but did you know that I can sand down a dresser to the point a prominent Instagram DIYer has told me ‘I did a good job’.”

“Doesn’t sound that trustworthy. Bet he doesn’t know what you call wrenches.”

Pouting, you narrow your eyes as he laughs. “Thank you for telling me.”

Nodding, he rolls his lips. “I had to… ‘cause… are we enacting third date-talk honesty?”

“Of course.”

Half-smiling, he nudges himself closer on the stool. “I really like you.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you look up at the ceiling, before grabbing his knees and wheeling yourself closer. “I quite like you too.”

Smile spreading, he places his hands on top of yours. “Yeah? Because I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to… run from all of that.”

Smirking, you try to move closer, even if the wheels of both stools try to prevent you. “Did you know, honesty is really, really hot?”

Brows raising, chin lifting, his lips slide further into his cheek. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’m glad too.”

Swallowing, his fingers slide in between yours, eyes flicking from one eye to the other. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous, that.”

“Well, I’ve seen your house now.”

Nodding, you smile. Feeling it, whatever he’s going to say, ask, think lingering in the silence. His grin widens, a spark igniting in his eyes that sends a rush of warmth through you.

“So, I think it only seems fair you see mine.”

Wiping your hands on your napkin, licking your lips as you cross a leg over the other. “Well, for fair sake I definitely should.”

“Do you want to… now?”

“Tonight?”

Nodding, that same flush of pink rises up his neck, up his jaw.

Smirking, you loosen your hand from his—resting your palm on his cheek, elbow on your knee. “I’d like that.”

The car ride to his should be tense, but it isn't.

Instead, it's filled with soft laughter, teasing comments and shared glances—your fingers twitching, wondering whether a hand on his knee is too soon. Even when everything else feels so normal, natural.

When he pulls up outside his place, anticipation fills the air—a rush of warmth flooding through you, making your fingers clamp together and stare out at the place as he says, this is it.

It’s nice, well-kept—charming, from what you can already tell. Eyes spot chalk drawings on the patio, lit up by the outside lights and a plastic red car close to where he's parked.

“Luca has some good parking,” you smile, pointing to it next to you both. “You learn from him, or?”

Smirking, he undoes his belt. “Maybe, I taught him how to park. I’m very good with heavy transportation.”

You don’t miss the way he emphasises the sentence. Your 'oh' is swallowed by the sound of him opening the door and telling you to wait.

Watching as he moves around the vehicle, his eyes holding yours. Earlier, you'd been thankful that the rain had taken a pause; now you wished it hadn't stopped its lashings that glued clothing to skin, thighs pressing together on the seat before the door beside you opens.

“What a gentleman.”

“Just wanted another chance to chance to check you out, really.”

Swatting him, he takes your hand, his laugh blending with yours as he leads you up to his front door.

If he feels nervous, he doesn’t show it. Finding his keys and slides one into the lock without missing. Opening the door without as much as an awkward shove of the door.

If anything, it’s effortless. It not even squeaking or catching as he pushes it open.

“It’s not a lot…” he begins.

But he couldn’t be more wrong.

It’s cosy and warm. Exuding an unmistakable homeliness that immediately comforts you. Dark woods, off-whites, and splashes of orange, caramel, and greens intertwine harmoniously, creating a space that feels both freshly decorated and deeply loved. A balance you assume exists because of him being the one to bring it all together, knowing from the videos you've seen how talented he is.

As you glance around, you begin to see the traces of the Frankie you’ve been getting to know. Photographs of him at the beach, with his son, with friends and more with Luca at varying ages.

Then, there are the plants. An assorted mix of them, some big that you remember from photos, some greener than others—some tall and in plants with animal faces like raccoons and beavers, others in decorative pots placed on shelves.

As you step in further, you spot furniture you recognise from videos—even noting the stacked pile of books from a photo he’d shared recently and a record player on a side table.

“C’mon, let me show you around.”

He leads you, hand in yours, showing you his well-equipped kitchen, and dining space. Occasionally, he points things out, like the markings on a wall he’s using to measure how tall Luca gets and the scuff marks from dragging the dining table in after varnishing it. Before finally, the two of you are outside the half-open door to his bedroom.

Frankie giving you a wink, bodies almost flush.

“That where the magic happens?”

“Not usually…”

"Maybe that's cause people haven't been saying the right magic words." Shrugging, you lick your lower lip, staring at the beading on the door. "I should tell you, I've heard I'm quite good at magic words..."

You let it linger, sit. Before you turn on your heel, fingers brushing over a table as you head back in the direction of his living room.

He follows, a step or two behind, letting you and your eyes capture all the personal touches before you feel fingers on your wrist, tugging you back, body flush to his.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, you find your throat dry—eyes flicking to his mouth.

“Go take a seat, I’ll bring us a drink.”

It’s soft, the nod you do as he slips his hand from your waist. You move, almost on auto-pilot, to sit down on his sofa, running your fingers over a cushion—one stitched with greens, golds and oranges.

When he reappears, you look up at him, noticing the hint of nerves in his gaze as you plaster on a reassuring smile as he places them down on the coffee table.

Slowly, you reach out, squeezing his hand, "Your home is lovely, Frankie."

He chuckles, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks as he joins sitting down. "Yeah?"

Nodding, you press your knee against his. “So.”

“So.”

With a smirk, you draw a measured breath. “I believe... I want to kiss you now.”

Swallowing, his gaze flickers to your lips, lingering, before snapping back up to your eyes. Warmth spreads over your cheeks, neck and ears. “I believe you should, Rainy.”

A response there, nestled between teeth and tongue, is muffled as his lips meet yours—for the first time in several days.

an: as a warning, the next chapter will include smut. if you wish to skip the smut, you can miss the chapter as there will be no other scenes. the following chapter will pick up the next morning.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

[legendsoffandoms]

Thinking about two Lloyd Dr aus rn

1. Is like a mercenary/bounty hunter(though he refuses to hunt dragons and oni) instead of staying at the monastery, because he needs money to buy food and supplies. So he starts doing bounty and/or letting people hire him. Though he doesn’t do jobs that kill people and/pr creatures at first, but over time he slowly starts taking them. But he only kills people who he thinks deserve it, so he’s a relatively good guy. He also doesn’t take jobs from clearly bad people, and doesn’t go through with a job once he realizes the person who hired him is bad.

But he still ends up finding Arin and Sora(and Ryu), and becomes their dad :). But oh no, he finds the ninja. And they aren’t supportive of the whole job, so that’s a big plot point. Oh and maybe Imperial (or however you spell it) try and hire Lloyd, another plot point. Arin and Soea get nervous thinking he’ll accept. Blah blah angst

He also looks like a bad ass, has horns because yes. Though his long hair hides it, because coolness. The kiddos love putting his hair up to reveal his horns and side shave. Oh, he also has dragon features like ears and a tail that he hides.(Fun fact: I gc them as dark green and black because his oni side is gold and purple. And I want them to be opposites but also really not)

Also the reason to me why he could not stay the monastery despite still being dumped there, is because he is traumatized. He doesn’t want to be in the place where he lived with his family. Because honestly, he doesn’t even know if they’re alive. And that thought alone convinced him to find somewhere else, now he didn’t settle far. In cause he did find the Ninja, but he hadn’t touch the place since he packed up his things and left. Just random check up’s to make sure no one tried to stay there. (This is just my hc for this au, you can have a different reason or him just not landing there at all. I honestly don’t mind if you don’t like the reason and go for something else, whatever you feel is right)

2. Is like an au where the events of the merge happen a lot sooner, and at the end of crystallized I hc Lloyd as 16(which is says on the fandom wiki but idk if that’s cannon or not). So instead of being in his early 20s Lloyd is like 14.

Because this happens before seabond, so Lloyd is 14. And trying to navigate the world(now to make this au line up, Arin and Sora are gonna be a bit older than they would be. So like 8-10)

And now Lloyd is a dad with two kids and a baby dragon, he has no idea what to do. And is on the verge of a meltdown 24/7 like dr Lloyd is.

Oh and he hasn’t unlocked his oni powers yet cause of the timeline, so angst anyone??

There’s my aus, do what you will with this lol

And have fun out there! Oh and I would love if someone would rope in Greenflower/Forgiven Shipping in to these aus, I don’t feel like it cause I gtg write chp. 2 of my Greenflower fanfic. Which is based off a ninjago hc post I saw lol

Anyways have fun! And be safe with these traumatized kiddos

[spaceorphan18]

1-15 for the writers meme for ‘With Every Broken Bone.’ (I’m in a rereading mood for fanfic and I’m thinking about rereading this). Also you know I love this one!!

Aww thank you dear <3 Now I won’t shut up about process and the ins and outs of writing, lol... 

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

When season 6 came along, admittedly, I had a really hard time reconciling going from a happy ending in season 5 to broken in season 6.  And writing about it kind of was an interesting cross-section of therapy and analysis.   While I was figuring out the timeline of events -- I noticed that there were some interesting parallels/juxtapositions going on, and because I thought I may not be writing more Klaine fic after this one (ha) I might as well take my own spin on a few famous portions of Klaine’s story.  

2: What scene did you first put down?

I tend to write chronologically, so the opening flashback scene was probably first.  I can’t fully remember.  I did have a whole outline, though, before writing. 

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

Hmmm, I’m not entirely sure, since a lot of the specific narration I don’t remember as much anymore.  I do love the entire month of June chapter, though, which is mostly narration.  I love that it’s Kurt finally getting what he thought he wanted -- to be alone -- and finding himself through that, but also that even he can experience loneliness when having too much distance from everyone else.  

Also early in the story when Kurt goes dancing with a guy and he starts to connect to him -- feeling Blaine through him -- only to realize the dude isn’t Blaine and basically has a panic attack.  That moment was always really clear in my head, and I liked writing that one.  

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

Oh, ha, it’s, like, my favorite line of dialogue ever, cause it’s a delightful metaphor for Klaine’s story at the time (And I’m sure people aren’t really that impressed with what I find clever, and are sick of me quoting myself, but I’m still amused by it) 

“You know what it’s like?  It’s like I stubbed my toe.  And my toe hurt. A lot.  And I tried to ignore the pain in my toe, but after a while it got so bad that something had to be done.  So, instead of taking care of my toe, I chopped off my foot.  Do you know how much worse chopping off your foot feels? Of course it took me four months to figure out how much it fucking hurts.  And now I don’t have a foot.  Just a bloody stump.  I shouldn’t have cut it off.  I could have fixed the toe.”

In addition, I also really enjoy some of the convos with Mercedes -- the one where she’s discussing her break up with Sam, and how, in a way, the two break ups are similar.  I also love the July flashback with Mercedes -- because it foreshadows a lot of the story, and I thought it was rather clever.  

5: What part was hardest to write?

The July chapter! Oh god, I think I had most of the rest of the fic done and kept having to put that on pause.  I wanted Kurt to have another romantic interest during the summer - and get a sense of what casual relationships are like, and discover what he’s like in relationships that aren’t with Blaine.  And to have to do that, set it up, pay it off, go through the whole thing and have it be meaningful was really hard.  It took a long time to figure it out.  

Not as difficult, but still I found challenge with, the flash back to the first break up.  Trying to figure out how Kurt felt differently, and exploring how it was a different thing in a short amount of time was difficult. 

The September flashback was difficult, too, because I needed Blaine to be frustrated without being too needy, or too much a bad guy.  I know betas and talking it out helped a lot on that one. 

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

This was my first big fic for Glee, and the first one where I felt like I was a decent writer.  It also helped me figure out Kurt and the show in a way that I hadn’t before, and I love the character more from writing it.  

7: Where did the title come from?

The lyrics of ‘I Lived’ -- I thought it was a nice touch that it was the last song on the show, and it fit with story I was trying to tell.  

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

Yes! A lot of my experiences of New York I wrote into it here and there.  

Also the story about thunder being god bowling.  I had a cousin who used to tell me that so it didn’t seem so scary. 

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

Not really? The only big thing I cut out was an extension of the stuff with June Dalloway in chp 3 (?) -- my betas talked me into cutting that way down, and they were right to do so.  

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

I mean, well, they’re who I write. The pairing picked the story. 

11: What do you like best about this fic?

I really love the story it explores with Kurt in it.  I’m proud of how Kurt grows in it, and how I feel it does bridge the two seasons nicely.  I really love how it gets deep into Kurt’s psyche -- drawing on canon as much as I could to paint a full picture of who he is.  I think he’s a fleshed out and flawed character, and he feels real to me in this one.  

I also really love that I was restrained in my use of Blaine -- he’s a ghost that haunts this story, and I was fascinated with the idea.  I think it really comes through.  Blaine is always there, even when he’s not, even when Kurt’s trying hard to move on.  You miss Blaine in the story, but that’s intentional -- because Kurt deeply misses Blaine.  

12: What do you like least about this fic?

There are still some parts that feel a little clunky to me.  Certain sections that maybe go on too long, or not long enough.  I can tell it’s an earlier fic of mine -- I could have worked on better and more concise sentence structure in a lot of places.  I could have fleshed a few ideas out.  And the October chapter, which is all of season 6, goes on a little too long -- and it feels slightly out of place, but I knew it did even when writing it -- I’m not sure how I’d re do it, but it feels slightly different than the rest of the fic.  

I give myself a lot of leeway because it was my first time writing one, but the sex scene was a bit on the simple side.  It felt more like an obligation - and I was super scared to write it, and basically my betas had to help me construct it cause I had no idea what I was doing and felt funny writing it.  

I also think the Nov. flashback is a little too cheesy, but I was trying to get in all the last minute canon references, so I left it in there.  

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

Yeah, I had a whole playlist for this one!! 

Chapter 1 (March): Teenage Dream - Darren Criss

Chapter 2 (April): Shake it Out (Acoustic) - Florence and the Machine

Chapter 3 (May): Rockstar - A Great Big World

Chapter 4 (June): I Shall Believe - Sheryl Crow

Chapter 5 (July): Daydream Believer - Mary Beth Maziarz

Chapter 6 (August): Dream City - Free Energy

Chapter 7 (September): Head Over Feet (Acoustic) - Alanis Morissette

Chapter 8 (October): Halo - Beyonce

Chapter 9 (November): I Live - Fate Under Fire

Each of the chapters kind of had a musical aesthetic going on with it! Also intentional were the use of Kurt solos as chapter titles -- those paired along with each chapter purposely.  

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

I have no idea - that’s up to them to get anything out of it.  

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

I did! I learned a lot about writing (which having a few fantastic betas really be strict with my writing helped a lot).  I got myself out of some bad habits, and tried to be more introspective than I had been with previous writings.  And I just felt like I stepped up when it came to writing.  I think this is far from a perfect piece of writing, but I’m proud of how it turned out. 

I also learned a lot about Kurt, he became a part of me writing this, and now his story is much more special to me than it had been before.  And I learned a lot about Glee -- how it is as a show, and how it works, cause I looked at the structure of canon, and how it was written.  

[itsworn]

Converting a Truck LY6 Engine into an LS3 for More Power

In case you haven’t been keeping up on current events, junkyard LS engines are all the rage. You see, rather than spend big money to go out and build an engine, you can pull a complete running one for pennies on the dollar. Every bit as important is the fact that the complete engine comes with all the little nuts and bolts that can cause endless hours of frustration and expense when building one from scratch. The most popular junkyard jewel is still the 5.3L, as it is both the most prevalent and affordable. Used in millions of Chevy and GMC trucks, the venerable LM7, or other such 5.3L variant, has become the go-to swap engine for imports, turbo trucks, and early muscle cars. As good as the little 5.3L is, we had our heart set on something a little bigger. After all, bigger really is better.

Though the next step up the LS ladder is the 5.7L, GM hasn’t produced the LS1 for some time, and besides, we wanted the even bigger 6.0L. Though the bigger truck engines command a premium price, a 6.0L will always make more power than a smaller 5.3L with equal parts. The extra torque offered by a 6.0L will always come in handy, especially on a heavy vehicle.

Once we decided on a 6.0L we needed to hone in on the specific version, as GM offered a variety of different 6.0L combinations over the years. The most common version was the LQ4. Originally equipped with iron LS heads (yep, that’s right), the LQ4 was quickly upgraded to aluminum 317 heads in 2000. Used as the base 6.0L, the LQ4 featured dished pistons, a mild cam (very mild in 1999-’00) and the 317 (cathedral port) heads. Depending on the application, the LQ4 was rated between 300-325 hp and 360-380 lb-ft of torque. One step up from the LQ4 was the higher-compression LQ9. The LQ9 was basically an LQ4 with flat-top pistons and was rated at 345 hp and (oddly enough) an LQ4-matching 380 lb-ft of torque. What we had our eye on was a Gen IV LY6, and the reasons for this choice were numerous. The 2007-up LY6 6.0L featured the Gen IV upgrades to the block and connecting rods, along with slightly higher compression (9.6:1 vs. 9.4:1). What really sealed the deal on the LY6 was the use of LS3-style rectangular port heads. The 823 aluminum heads offered peak flow numbers of 317 cfm—a jump of over 65 cfm per runner compared to the 317 heads used on LQ4s and LQ9s. We like to think of the LY6 as a smaller, iron horse version of the all-aluminum LS3.

Perhaps one of the biggest upgrades to the LY6 compared to the LQ4 and LQ9 combinations was the use of Variable Valve Timing, or VVT. The VVT mechanism essentially advanced and retarded the cam profile under different driving conditions to improve things like idle, power, and driveability, as well as reduce emissions. Unless you run the LY6 with a factory ECU designed for use with VVT you will need to replace the VVT cam with a conventional unit. This is the route we figured most swap guys would take, and is exactly what we did on our LY6. To establish a baseline before upgrading to LS3 status, we installed a fixed LQ9 cam. This factory cam profile was nearly identical to the VVT cam, minus the ability to advance and retard the cam timing. We also replaced the factory drive-by-wire 90mm throttle body used on the LY6 with a manual 92mm unit. For both the LY6 and LS3 upgraded version, we relied on Hooker 1 7/8-inch long-tube headers, a Holley HP ECU, and Meziere electric water pump. Run in this configuration, the LY6 produced peak numbers of 443 hp at 5,400 rpm and 467 lb-ft of torque at 4,500 rpm.

Now it was time to LS3 our LY6.

Since the LY6 already featured the rectangular port 823 heads, all we needed to complete the LS3 transformation was the LS3 cam and intake manifold. Truth be told, we compared the low-profile LS3 intake to the LY6 (truck) intake and there was almost no difference in power between the two. The LS3 intake might be a better option for tight hood-clearance applications, but from a performance standpoint there was little to choose from between the two. We swapped out the LQ9 cam (0.467/0.479-inch lift, 193/201-deg. duration, 116 LSA) for the slightly more aggressive LS3 cam (0.551/0.525-inch lift, 204/211-deg. duration, 117 LSA). As luck would have it, the LY6 was factory equipped with valvesprings that matched those found on the LS3 so no spring upgrade was necessary for the swap. The LS3 cam upgrade did require the single-bolt cam gear and large cam-retaining bolt. The cam swap was combined with the low-profile LS3 intake. Once upgraded, the LS3-cammed LY6 produced peak numbers of 475 hp at 5,800 rpm and 469 lb-ft of torque at 4,600 rpm. Basically, the LS3 cam was worth over 30 hp measured peak to peak, and more than 50 hp at 6,400 rpm. The iron horse LY6 was now ready for some boost, nitrous, or even more aggressive cam timing. CHP

1. The 6.0L LY6 is good, but with help from parts meant for an LS3 it can be even better!

2. The 2008 LY6 featured an iron block, aluminum rectangular port 823 heads, and VVT cam operation.

3. For our dyno test, we headed over to Westech Performance in Mira Loma, California, where we first had to replace the VVT cam and front cover assembly with a conventional cam and cover.

4. Off came the damper and front cover to allow access to the single-bolt cam gear.

5. We replaced the VVT cam assembly with an LQ9 three-bolt cam. This cam shared specs with the VVT cam, minus the adjustability.

6. The cam swap required a new front cover. Ours came from a GM block completion kit supplied by Gandrud Chevrolet. The front cover included the gasket, bolts, and cam position sensor.

7. The LY6 was equipped with a rectangular port truck intake designed to accept the factory drive-by-wire 90mm (measured at 87mm) throttle body. We relied on a FAST 92mm throttle body for both the LY6 and LS3 intakes.

8. The 6.0L LY6 test engine was run with a set of 1 7/8-inch Hooker swap headers feeding 18-inch collector extensions.

9. Run with the LQ9 cam, the LY6 produced peak numbers of 443 hp at 5,400 rpm and 467 lb-ft of torque at 4,500 rpm.

10. Off came the valve covers to provide access to the factory rockers. Note the rectangular port 823 heads utilized offset intake rockers.

11. We removed the rockers and stock pushrods to facilitate the cam swap.

12. Off came our damper and front cover once again to swap in a factory LS3 cam.

13. We relieved the tensioner then removed the three-bolt cam gear.

14. Off came the cam retaining plate and out came the stock 6.0L LQ9 cam.

15. In went the stock (single-bolt) LS3 cam and cam retaining plate.

16. We then installed the factory LS3 cam gear and single cam-retaining bolt.

17. The LY6 heads featured valvesprings that tested identical to the factory LS3 springs. There was no need to replace the springs for this LS3 cam upgrade.

18. Completing the LS3 upgrade was a switch to the low-profile LS3 intake. There was actually very little difference in power between the LY6 and LS3 intakes. The LS3 intake will just fit more applications where hood clearance is an issue.

19. Run on the dyno after the LS3 upgrade, the modified LY6 now produced 475 hp at 5,800 rpm and 469 lb-ft of torque at 4,600 rpm.

20. After installation of the LQ9 cam, the LY6 6.0L proved to be a decent performer, producing peak numbers of 443 hp and 467 lb-ft of torque. Torque production exceeded 450 lb-ft for a 1,000-rpm spread. For guys looking to upgrade their iron horse 6.0L truck engine to LS3 status, the gains were pretty impressive. The smaller 6.0L was down on both displacement and compression compared to the 6.2L LS3, but that doesn’t mean it won’t benefit from the cam and intake (OK, maybe just the cam). After installation of the LS3 cam and intake, the peak numbers jumped to 475 hp and 469 lb-ft of torque. These numbers put the LY6 above a stock LS2 run under the same conditions and only 18-20 hp shy of a very pricey LS3.

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[itsworn]

Totally Custom Pro Touring, LSA-Powered 1970 Camaro

Don Houser is a logistics manager for Caterpillar, Inc., so he’s used to dealing with that Big Yellow on ton-over-tons machinery. Man, the stuff’s not bashful. This elephant in a phone booth probably pushed him in a certain direction when it came to building his Camaro. Don had a serious yen to exhibit his work in closed-course series. He built the Camaro to compete in autocross and at track day events.

He craved a stick shift. And how did that occur? His loving father planted the seed deep and early. When the kid was 5, his old dad would perch him on the transmission hump and let him shift from Low to Second in an old four-speed car. Don’s young brain schizzed. He realized that one of his synapses refused and would no longer close … and that somehow he would be hooked on this stuff inextricably. Years passed. Adulthood couldn’t be ducked.

He settled in for the long haul—a trip that encompassed four years of angst and joy. He did it with people close to him: his son Henry, cousin Jeff, and his agents on the outside: Tony and Chris Smith (Smitty’s Custom Automotive) and the talent at Trent’s Trick Upholstery.

He bought his project in 2012. There were three reasons that framed his mind: it was original, it was solid, and it was a real RS/SS. It had a 1970 Duke University parking permit on the rear bumper. “I called the guys at Detroit Speed and they recommended Smitty’s. I spoke to Tony Smith for a few minutes and he invited me to the shop.

“After seeing the quality of the work and speaking with Chris, I knew they were going to complete the build,” said Houser. At the very beginning of the vortex he was happy with the Camaro’s exterior styling but he wanted to make something that would really stand out in the Second-gen crowd. “That’s when I decided on the color brown when most others are silver, orange, black, or some shade of blue.” Ambient light is the delineator; without it this car could be all the way black, but certainly not brown. For an unusual contrast, instead of dressing the interior in tan rags, he was drawn right to the red. And see how well it works.

“Thanks to Trent VanArsdalen’s guidance, the interior turned out incredible and has elements I’ve never seen … stainless wire in the [custom] door panels, the pattern stitched in the seat cushions and headliner matching the stainless wire pattern in the door panels. Then the harness bars that were fabricated by Dan Dreisbach.” Since the Camaro’s rear seats are just package trays, Don and Trent elected to eighty-six ’em altogether, but they didn’t want to stuff the crater with the usual camouflage panels. So why not put the crater to work instead?

Dreisbach and VanArsdalen created the aluminum harness bars, the likes of which we’ve never seen before, and anchored them in the rear seat wells. Though Don might have other thoughts about the exclusivity of his Camaro, anyone who sees that hairy solution is likely to remember the car more for that than its tasty dark-brown crust or its unlikely hot-red center.

Since the project was far from inexpensive, whenever Don had opportunity he was respectful to his wallet. Rather than gather components and scratch-build a bullet and worry the details, he plucked a projectile from Chevrolet Performance that was dressed out from the top of the intercooler to the bottom of the oil sump. Since a six-speed manual was always part of the plan, Don inserted a Chevrolet Performance steel flywheel and twin-disc clutch assembly and attached the gearbox to the supercharged LSA with a Chevrolet Performance bellhousing and hydraulic linkage.

The formula for the car had to include a willful stance highlighted by the most complementary rolling stock in the universe. Unfortunately, the de rigueur components have become common to and popular with this ultra-roadworthy Pro Touring genre. The profile embraces dusky and decidedly un-cute Forgeline wheels paired with brutal Nitto skins. These things look like they’d rip ass all the way to Fayetteville without breaking a sweat and be just as bloody useful on the way back out.

Wherever the car is you can be sure that Don will be in it, not thrashing but enjoying and almost relaxing. Though we’re no fans of crimson, the execution and the particular shade of red is, however, soothing. There’s urgency there but it doesn’t dominate or tend to crank up the subconscious.

Any thoughts Don has about the project are dominated by what he should have done in the first place. “Start with a rendering,” he opined. “After picking the odd body color I had an idea to make the interior tan, but everybody does that. I wanted something different … and I was lost. Thanks to Trent for his professional guidance.”

Underneath it all, the kid wobbling on the transmission hump all those years ago confides: “In my heart, I built the Camaro as a tribute to my dad.” CHP

Tech Check Owner: Don Houser, Clayton, North Carolina Vehicle: 1970 Camaro RS/SS

Engine Type: Chevrolet Performance LSA crate engine Displacement: 376 ci Compression Ratio: 9.1:1 Bore: 4.065 inches Stroke: 3.622 inches Cylinder Heads: L92 style ports, 2.16/1.59 valves, as cast with 68cc combustion chambers Rotating Assembly: Forged steel crankshaft, powdered steel connecting rods, hypereutectic aluminum pistons Valvetrain: Investment-cast roller trunnion 1.7:1 rocker arms, Greening Auto Company rocker covers Camshaft: Hydraulic (0.492/0.480-inch lift; 198/216-deg. duration at 0.050), OE roller lifters Induction: 1.9L Eaton supercharger, C&R Racing water-to-air intercooler, Rick’s Tanks fuel cell Ignition: Chevrolet Performance LSA controller kit Exhaust: Ultimate Headers stainless steel 1 7/8-inch primary pipes, 3-inch system, Flowmaster 40-series mufflers Ancillaries: Camaro ZL1 wet-sump oil pan, Concept One accessory drive, C&R Racing aluminum radiator, American Autowire loom Tuner: Lingenfelter Performance Engineering Output (at the wheels): 540 hp at 6,100 rpm, 520 lb-ft at 3,800 rpm

Drivetrain Transmission: TREMEC T-56, Chevrolet Performance Super Magnum bellhousing, Chevrolet Performance steel flywheel and twin-disc clutch assembly Rear Axle: Moser Engineering 9-inch, Wavetrac torque-sensing limited-slip differential, 3.70:1 gears, Moser 35-spline axleshafts

Chassis Front Suspension: DSE hydroformed subframe, DSE spindles, RideTech triple-adjustable coilovers, remote fluid reservoirs, DSE splined antisway bar Rear Suspension: DSE QUADRALink; RideTech triple-adjustable coilovers; remote fluid reservoirs; modified housing to incorporate Corvette ZR1 axle bearings; DSE antisway bar, Panhard rod, mini-tubs Brakes: Wilwood 14-inch rotors, six-piston calipers, front; Wilwood 14-inch rotors, four-piston calipers, rear; Wilwood master cylinder and proportioning valve

Wheels & Tires Wheels: Forgeline RB3C 18×10 front, 19×12 rear Tires: Nitto NT05 275/35 front, 335/30 rear

Interior Upholstery: Trent’s Trick Upholstery (Baltimore, OH) Material: Leather, Dynamat insulation Seats: Custom built by Trent’s Trick Upholstery, Schroth Racing harnesses, aluminum safety harness anchors by Dan Dreisbach at Naked Sculpture (Baltimore, OH) Steering: Flaming River tilt column, Momo wheel Shifter: C&R handle and ball Dash: Stock Instrumentation: Dakota Digital gauges Audio: Kenwood KDC-X599 head, Diamond Audio amplifiers, 4-inch speakers (front), 6×9-inch speakers (rear), 10-inch subwoofer installed by Trent’s Trick Upholstery HVAC: Vintage Air

Exterior Bodywork: All seams welded, smoothed firewall, gaps aligned by Smitty’s Custom Automotive (Tiffin, OH) Paint By: Smitty’s Custom Automotive Paint: PPG custom-mix brown Grille: Stock Bumpers: Stock

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