#and I'm making my way thru Broad City

[varietysky]

I want to get back into bbc ghosts mode. I miss being deranged about those silly dead folk and their living friends <3

[washy0uaway]

Kiss City Pt. 1

Series Masterlist | Part 2 here<3

A/N: Prefacing this by saying this is my first ever fic attempt that I'm very excited to share with this lil corner of the world :) This pairing was originally inspired by the song Kiss City by Blondshell (cause that shit is Frankie coded forreal - we'll get there, I promise). Pls be kind! Very open to feedback, etc. - I have no idea where this series will go, but my plan is to just have fun with it <;3 Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader Word Count: 1.7k Summary: You weren't expecting to sleep through your alarms the morning of a massive presentation you'd been prepping for your boss. You also weren't expecting to get rear-ended on your drive into the office. You definitely weren't planning on spilling your coffee all over your new blouse. But the thing you expected least on what you swore was a day set out to be cursed by the universe, was Frankie. Warnings: eventual 18+ / MDNI!!! car crash, fainting. -------------------------------------------------------------

“Shit,” you mustered under your breath as you dropped your keys, fumbling to lock your front door before leaving for work. It was barely past 9:00am and you could already tell it was going to be… a day. It had started by sleeping through your alarm, waking up frantically after quickly realizing you had to make yourself presentable and be out the door in less than twenty minutes.

You had spent the night prior awake much past your bedtime, spending hours finishing a massive presentation for the CEO of the marketing company you worked for. It was fairly unrewarding work, but it paid well. Your boss’s and coworkers were all around your age, fun, and easy to work with. The laidback attitude of the company lends itself to the idea of stopping for Starbucks on your way into the office - you could swing being another 5 minutes late. Really, you know you wouldn’t be able to fight the still present exhaustion without at least 3 shots of espresso in your system, stat.

After ordering your latte (with an extra shot of espresso), along with an Iced Tea for your office coordinator and self proclaimed “work bestie,” Liz, you peeled out of the drive thru and were on your way. That is, until you weren’t.

It happened quickly, as you were approaching a green light. The signal turned yellow, with your car not yet in the intersection, bordering the line of acceptable to just drive through it. “Getting pulled over would take longer than waiting at this stop light,” you thought to yourself as you quickly brought your car to a stop.

Before you knew it, your forehead was ricocheting off your steering wheel and the full latte you were actively sipping was now drenching your new, white top and burning your skin. It took you a moment to realize what had just happened, glancing in your rear view mirror trying to catch an initial glance at the asshole who had just rear-ended you. After rolling down your window, you motioned to the culprit with your arm that you would be pulling to the adjacent strip mall parking lot, praying they would have the decency to not speed off.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” you whispered to yourself as you unbuckled your seatbelt, fuming at the circumstance and cursing the universe for reinforcing the fact that this really, was just not your day.

The pickup truck that trailed behind you luckily didn’t seem too damaged, leading you to hope your car wasn’t in worse shape. You swung your car door open and stepped out with a huff. “Seriously, dude? What the fuck?” you borderline yelled the direction of the pickup as you heard its driver follow suit in stepping out of their car.

You hear him before you see him, a low pitched voice saying, “Shit, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” as he quickly strides from behind the truck. If you hadn’t been enraged, you would have dropped your jaw at the sight of him.

He’s a tall, broad man, in faded black jeans and a dangerously fitted dark green tshirt. What seems to be a head of thick dark curls is hidden under a visibly well loved baseball cap, and the perfect amount of facial hair to match peppers his face. He has dark eyes you could swim in - they meet yours as he asks if you’re okay a second time.

“Who, me?” You retort sarcastically. “Yeah, I’m great. I really woke up this morning and thought it would be a good day to spend drenched in espresso in the FedEx parking lot.” He lets out a laugh to try and ease the tension and my god, does it work. “God, I’m so sorry,” the stranger continues with one hand in his pocket, the other tightly grasping the back of this neck. “My kid’s daycare was calling, I dropped the phone and apparently I'm the dumbass who thought he could reach it below the passenger seat. Took my eyes off the road for half a second, I swear.” The mention of his kid surprises you, and your hormone driven brain is curious after noticing he’s not wearing a ring.

“Well, dumbass, at least your truck doesn’t look too damaged.” His face drops as he glances over your shoulder, “Yeah, yours though..”

You hadn’t had a second to assess the damage, quickly whipping around to the wreckage. “No no no!” you exclaim as you rush closer to your very mangled car. He’s quickly hovering above as you’re crouching at your bumper, already asking if he can call you a tow truck or give you a ride. His glance wanders down to your freshly soaked crop top, and you take no notice of him blatantly checking you out. You don’t respond to his questions, instead letting a long sigh escape your mouth as you rest your face in your hands, now fully sitting on the ground.

“Seriously,” he says pointedly, regaining your attention. “This is my fault, let me take you wherever you were headed. I have a good buddy who owns a shop not far from here, I’ll give him a call and have ‘em send a tow out.” He’s now crouched down to your level, and you suddenly feel his intense gaze on you waiting for a response.

A long moment of silence passes before you finally give in. “Fine.” Turning your head his direction, he’s already standing back up and reaching out a hand to help you up.

As he pulls his phone from his back pocket to call the shop, you introduce yourself and offer him your name. He’s instantly looking up from his phone to see you shyly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and glancing toward the ground. When he holds out his hand to shake, your eyes meet again. His features are now much softer and more relaxed, and a kind but shy smile is slowly spreading across his face. You can see in his eyes that he has a big heart. One you wouldn’t mind getting to know better, at that.

“I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but I’m not sure now’s a good time,” he jokes. You take his hand, much larger than yours, in a firm shake, both of you holding on just a moment longer than necessary.

“I’m Frankie.”

--

Frankie call his 'buddy' (Benny, you gather, after overhearing his conversation) and confirms they'll send a tow truck your way. "You owe me one, pendejo," he pleads into the phone. You call your office next to let them know you'll be even later than planned. After assuring you it's not necessary to stay and wait for the tow truck, he opens the passenger door of his truck and offers you his hand to help you inside. I could get used to that, you catch yourself thinking.

Once you're situated in the truck, Frankie enters your office's address into the GPS on his phone. As he puts the truck in reverse, his right arm has braced itself on your headrest. His eyes cross your face for a mere second before he's suddenly slamming on the brakes, jolting you in your seatbelt for the second time this morning.

"Jesus man, are you trying to kill me?!" "Shit, sorry it's just - are you sure you're okay? Your forehead..." His eyes narrow as he glances above your right eyebrow. Instantly, you're pulling the visor in front of you down and sliding the small mirror open. Lo and behold, you're sporting a swelling lump on your forehead that's already started to bruise. As if on cue, your head starts to pound. "Dammit," you sigh, gently touching your forehead "I guess I hit the steering wheel harder than I thought." "Yeah, no kidding. Can I take you somewhere to get checked out? Make sure you're okay?" "What, have someone tell me to ice it just so they can bill me god knows how much?" You turn to look at Frankie, and notice his eyes are trying to hide worry. "Thanks, but that's really not necessary." He hesitantly concedes and you're (finally) on your way to work. It's a fairly quiet drive. Frankie asks you about your job and hums along to the song playing through the stereo to fill the silence. Girl from the North Country by Bob Dylan, you recognize it almost instantly.

"You have good taste," you almost smirk and glance his way, causing him to wring the back of his neck again. Must be something he does when he's nervous, you note to yourself, picking up on his anxious demeanor as his free hand grips the wheel slightly tighter. "You like Dylan?" he asks, turning the volume up. "Of course. My dad raised me on him - that was my first concert, actually. I grew up in Michigan, and he'd always joke I'd be someone's 'Girl from the North Country' someday." You realize you're rambling and cut yourself off from digging a deeper hole of embarrassment, "Sorry... saying I 'like' Bob Dylan is an understatement." "Nothing to apologize for," he glances over at you with a shy smile, "except maybe comparing my taste in music to your Dad's." This makes you chuckle, and his eyes are still locked on you - you hardly notice his staring until the stoplight turns green and the car ahead of you speeds off. "Hey man, have we learned nothing this morning?" you look over to see him already focused on you, and can't fight the blush you're aware has to be creeping over your cheeks. "Stay with me, Frankie!" you exclaim as you snap your fingers in the direction of the road. "Gladly." he whispers, nearly inaudibly. A few seconds pass, and you're not convinced he'd said anything at all. The shyness and anxiety take hold as he pulls in front of your downtown office building. Before you can even register that you haven't exchanged phone numbers, insurance information, or even asked the name of the shop towing your car, you're opening the passenger door, tossing a quick "Thanks for the ride!" over your shoulder and hopping down from the truck. With a quick pace, you're walking to the front door when you hear Frankie call your name. "Y/n! Wait!" You notice first that his voice sounds distant - muffled, even. Next, you realize you've fully halted your jaunt inside. Your feet are no longer moving beneath you, and your vision starts to go blurry. "You left your..." Frankie's voice trails off as you lose consciousness entirely, and your knees buckle beneath you.

[crones-trash]

I'm bone-tired but I gonna try to be coherent. Leaving Evanston WY this morning, I passed an altitude sign that read 6980 feet, which was weird. That was the exact altitude where I crossed the Continental Divide. Not saying there aren't places around the world w/ the same height. Just a meaningful coincidence that I slept at that level & woke up feeling actually fine. I started the day at pain level 3. My usual normal state is 5 then can get worse as the day goes forward. I didn't get a 2-point advantage because I'm currently suffering at level 8. This is the point where I chose to take half of an oxycodone tablet instead making a pointless trip to an ER. But that would be the end of my day & I still want to write.

Fairly quickly I-80 descended into Utah via a series of steep inclines w/ crazy curves around the shoulders of mountains at the bottom. The Speed Limit had been 80 but warning signs made everyone ride their brakes all the way down to make those scary curves.

I got a slight headache & my upper lip started to tingle like I was hyperventilating. I wasn't panting but I used the same treatment--inhaling thru my nose to a count of 4 then blowing out thru my mouth to 6. Repeating this led to yawning, which popped my ears & made my headache go away. It would seem there's a reverse version of altitude sickness when you descend 2000 feet in less than an hour.

When the mountains parted, instead of seeing Salt Lake City laid out like a perfect toy town, the rising sun made a layer of haze brilliant white & hid everything including the Oquirch Mountain Range on the other side of the broad valley basin.

I lived in SLC 30 years ago & know being surrounded by high mountains occasionally caused smog inversions that would last a week at the most. But this haze was different, white instead of brownish. Also it wasn't locked inside the rim of the basin. The wind blew it steadily northward. It got thicker as I passed the upper edge of the Great Salt Lake. I could barely see the Wasatch Range looming nearby on my right. Egad.

The article keeps using the word "could" about something that clearly IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!

This white dust storm pursed me into Idaho, obscuring the mountain views ahead & on both sides. After going past Pocatello, it thinned. But even here in Idaho Falls, there's a white haze on the horizon w/ a clear blue sky above it. I'm too old to care how much arsenic I may have inhaled today. A small dose is used to treat psoriasis & might be beneficial for me. Who knows? All I know is I had a fairly easy day & feel terrible.

BREAKING NEWS: Siri tried to send me on another side trip by telling me to exit I-15 to get on Hwy 26. We were 32 miles from Idaho Falls & 26 wasn't on my list of Google Map-approved routes. I took the exit while she instructed me to turn left when I knew Idaho Falls would be on the right. I had a moment at a red light at the bottom of the ramp to see a sign that clearly pointed to I-15 as the route to my destination. When the light turned green, I drove straight back on ramp to I-15.

Siri had nothing more to say about it, which was even weirder. I have taken wrong turns in the past & she immediately devised a route to put me back on course. But, not this time. I should research if this is happening to other people. Has this massive computer network become a rogue AI?

When I got back online, the first thing I did was see where she would have sent me. This side trip would have lasted 1.5 hrs because when 26 intersected 20, I would have turned right & eastward across I-15 straight into downtown Idaho Falls. I wonder what I missed seeing...