don’t give up on your dreams, boy

evan fraser. travels the world for a living with my cat, mog!

[mayibefrank]

Frankie startled at the man’s loud exclamation. She supposed it wasn’t entirely unwarranted – she had whacked him with her hardback, after all – but that wouldn’t stop her from looking affronted all the same. She scowled at his choice of words, even as he tried to backpedal and explain himself. Was it completely unreasonable for her to want to put as much distance between herself and a potential threat? Or to defend herself, for that matter! 

Again, that really wasn’t what she was doing. But he didn’t need to know that. 

Her brow arched at his half-assed defence, and she merely scowled in response. He really didn’t understand why she might be a little alarmed at him suddenly approaching her? Had he been living under a rock where other men didn’t exist, or was here simply a raging misogynist himself with no real prospect of his own, bullshit patriarchal notions? She assumed it was either the latter, or he was a total fucking buffoon. And judging by how things were going, she wondered if it might actually be both. 

“I’m not hostile, and your hand is fine,” Frank scoffed, rolling her eyes indignantly. She had no idea who he was calling pretty, so she shook her head and fixed him with a pointed, withering stare. “Don’t approach young women on their own and reach for their things if you don’t want them to be on guard.” 

His grumpy remark did make her pause for thought, however, as she dipped her head to the side momentarily and took him in. It was entirely possible that they were on the same flight, if the current state of her own flight was anything to go by. The waiting lounge was growing emptier and emptier by the minute, holidaymakers disappearing off towards their intended gate, no doubt gearing up for a lovely trip on a flight that wasn’t delayed. There didn’t seem to be many flight issues other than her own, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. The last thing she needed right now was for him to know her destination – particularly if he was a secret serial killer scoping out his next victim. 

“Are you always this dramatic? Your hand looks fine, and you’re the one that started bothering me, uninvited,” she pointed out, feeling no shame at all for the minor injury she’d inflicted. Growing up with scrappy siblings did that to you. 

[frasertakesflight]

"I don't think that's up to you to decide." he scowled, gingerly running his fingers over his reddened knuckles. They did feel pretty sore to the touch. "What are you, a Doctor as well as a Shakespearian... classicist, or something?"

He gestured to the book in irritation, trying not to feel pleased at his retort. It had sounded pretty good in his head, although he wasn't entirely sure what you called someone who studied Shakespeare like... professionally. The closest he'd gotten to Shakespeare was being whacked by a rather weighty tome. That, and the time Miss. Block had simplified a version of A Midsummer Night's Dream for their Year 2s and 3s. They'd looked so bloody cute in the fairy wings and donkey costumes.

"I didn't realise I was especially threatening." he said. The whole cherubic curls and cute cat thing usually marked him as safe amongst women, but clearly it would take a whole lot more to get around this one.

He glanced around the airport as she did, his eyes landing on the boarding screen. It appeared his flight showed no signs of budging whatsoever, and she'd yet to answer his question. He should probably make a show of getting up to go for a coffee, or wandering around to look for his gate... anything to escape the company of this girl who clearly didn't want him around.

"Sort of, yes." he stated, and before he thought better of it, he held out his injured hand to her. "I'm Fraser. Well, I'm Evan."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"It's just a handshake, I'm not gonna try and nick your purse."

[notgaybuckybarnes]

KIT HARINGTON Industry 4.02 "The Commander and The Grey Lady"

[candyturnon]

↳INSTAGRAM: @candyturnon posted a photo to her story:

[frasertakesflight]

@frasertakesflight followed @candyturnon.

@frasertakesflight: What’s your coffee order? I’ll try and memorise it for when you let me take you out.

[frasertakesflight]

↳INSTAGRAM: @frasertakesflight uploaded a photo:

#thirsttrap #sexy

[mayibefrank]

The thing about Francine May was that she hated being American. It was easily her biggest flaw. On a particularly good day, when she was feeling especially good natured, she’d let Griffin lightly rib her while she happily conceded that yes, Americans are the worst. The May’s were the exception to the rule, obviously, and his beautiful girlfriend was the best of a particularly bad bunch. But now, as her gaze travelled up and down the man beside her, appraising him in such a nature that could only be described as deeply disapproving, she felt an odd surge of patriotism rise up inside of her. 

“Right, because the British are so much better, right?” she rolled her eyes. That was another thing, a quiet victory for herself. She’d never in a million years describe Griffin as British – she knew better than that, and the man beside her was obviously English. But, if it got under his skin, then a win was a win. 

Resting her elbow on her knee, she twisted her body to face him properly, her thumb pressed against her cheek as she tapped her forefinger against her temple. She paused for effect, wanting to seem as though she was deep in thought as she considered her next line. 

“I mean, all of that colonising, right? Huge oof, wouldn’t you say?” she asked dryly, her lids low as she looked at him with vague disinterest. 

She turned her attention away from him again, hoping to return to her book, only to full, bodily flinch as she heard the squeak of leather beside her. In her peripheral, she could see the odd man shuffling over into the seat beside her, and she crinkled her nose distastefully. Had this man ever taken a hint in his whole entire life? Frankie was just about to voice that thought out loud, when she felt him lean in, dipping his head low in a way that was entirely invasive. She felt herself lean as far back in her seat as she could, neck stretching lengthily as she tried to maintain as much distance as she could. 

Suddenly, her limbs acted before her mind could catch up, and her hand flew out in alarm, smacking his hand away with the spine of her book. Frankie yelped both in surprise at the way he’d been pointing her way, as well as in horror at her own audacity. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, at least having the good nature to feel a little guilty. She crinkled her nose again, frowning in his direction as she spotted the way his knuckles were turning pink. “I thought you were about to... touch me, or something.” 

That wasn’t strictly true. She hadn’t been overly concerned at the fact, but she also didn’t have a good excuse for having smacked a complete stranger in an airport lounge, so it would have to do. 

[frasertakesflight]

Sarcasm practically dripped from the other woman's words. She was quick, there was no denying that, clever in a way Evan had never quite mastered. He could go toe to toe in a round of lighthearted banter, but when it came to a battle of wits - he was fucked. Not that he'd been expecting the conversation to escalate so rapidly when he'd started it up, but it was hard to remember that no girl - no matter where in the world she was from - liked being negged. And Americans never liked being reminded how utterly shit their country was.

Confusion quickly overtook his features as she delivered the double-edged sword that was her retort, his eyebrows scrunching together. He wasn't one hundred percent sure what colonising was, but he knew it was bad. And his new companion said it like he was personally responsible for colonising the world over. He'd have to do a quick google search the next time she turned her back, and figure out just what the British had to do with it, exactly.

Forcing his face into a mask of impassivity, he instead turned his attention to her book, certain he could get this show back on the road somehow. No sooner had he reached out than pain bloomed across his knuckles, turning them a dark, mottled red as the spine of her hardback made contact with his limb. He pulled back with a cry of pain - attracting the attention of many irritated airport loiterers - and shoved his hand up under his armpit.

"Fucker!" he hissed, the first curse word that sprung to mind leaving his lips. The tips of his ears turned pink as he looked up at the girl. "Not you, sorry. I just mean - fuck, that hurt. What was that for?"

He shook his hand, hoping to shake off some of the throbbing pain reverberating through his hand.

"No, believe it or not, I don't go around groping pretty girls at the airport. Or anywhere." he huffed, sullen and moody. "You could've taken my whole hand off. Are you always this hostile?"

Pouting, he added, "I hope you're not on my flight. I'll have to swap out for my own health and safety."

[dawseyohara]

↳INSTAGRAM: @dawseyohara uploaded a photo:

Photo by: Sidney.

[frasertakesflight]

@frasertakesflight: Nah but I’m literally looking for a man in finance

[mayibefrank]

Frankie was on edge.  

Barcelona had been the first stop on her trip. After years of reading about distant, mythical places, Frank had finally mustered up the courage to get herself out there and go. Admittedly, there had been a lot of middle-ground back and forthing, paperwork and extensive planning. But after that, she finally left the confines of her childhood home without so much as a backwards glance. And Barcelona had been so beautiful. It was everything she’d dreamed of and more. She’d allowed herself two full, uninterrupted days around the city to see as much as she could squeeze in before jetting off to her next destination. She’d enjoyed the soft tranquility of riding the Montjuïc cable cars up to the Castle, affording her a stunning view of the entire city that she’d immediately snapped a photo of to send to her sisters later. Of course, she’d done as every sensible tourist might and revolved the bulk of her trip around visiting La Sagrada Familia – she wasn’t religious by any means, but the architecture alone had been captivating. It had resulted in arguably the most peaceful half an hour of hers and Sulli’s relationship when she’d excitedly facetimed her sister in Paris from outside the Cathedral, fresh tears streaming down her face at the sheer beauty of it all. Even Griffin had been subjected to a 40-minute tirade after she’d visited the Gothic Quarter, with Gigi giggling in the background as they broke down which of their favourite classic novels deserved a picturesque reimagining beneath the Pont Del Bisbe. 

Sufficed to say, it had been a fulfilling trip and had only left her all the more excited for her upcoming travels. With Marrakech next on the agenda, Frankie had three perfect days lined up and was so excited to immerse herself in the beautiful, Moroccan city. Only, things weren’t quite going to plan. 

Her flight was not only delayed but seemed to be edging ever closer to being cancelled entirely. It was a logistical nightmare. Frank had budgeted so meticulously when planning her trip, and there was simply nothing left that could be rationed off for another night in a hotel. And, as though to make matters worse, there was an absolute maniac sat just a couple of seats over from her, seemingly chattering away to himself. With her attention laser focused on her rather dog-eared copy of Macbeth – tattered and coffee-stained from use – she tried to drown out the noise of the airport and the weirdo beside her.  

As though to make her evening worse, however, the aforementioned weirdo decided to speak to her. 

Inhaling slowly, Frank kept her head low, quietly furious that this buffoon was now ruining Macbeth’s iconic soliloquy. She tried, in vain, to pretend he wasn’t there at all, right up until he decided to call her bluff. Much like every other man she’d ever encountered – Griffin Mcrory somehow, surprisingly, excluded – he seemed entirely incapable of reading a room. Scowling, she slammed her book down against her lap, spine cracked as the pages pressed inwards. 

“Has it ever occurred to you that when a woman ignores you, it’s because she doesn’t want to talk to you?” She was still staring dead ahead, hellbent on giving the buffoon beside her as little of her attention as was humanly possible.  

[frasertakesflight]

With her head low, it had been hard to tell just what the woman next to him actually looked like. Not that Evan was particularly fussy - but he was pleased when she lifted her head and confirmed his suspicions that she was, in fact, really fit. Even with just her side profile to go off - it was a really good side profile. She'd probably be even prettier if she wasn't silently fuming, but even he knew women didn't like to be told that.

He wondered just how long she'd been sitting in the airport, and how she managed to still look so perfectly put together. Not Influencer put-together, sporting an unironic beret and clutching an iced latte she had no intention of drinking, but like... real artsy, with her book she'd clearly actually read and like she'd arrived to the airport at a normal time, pre-delay.

He continued to smile dopily at her, watching the muscles in her jaw twitch as she tensed it.

"Oof, you're American." he noted, hissing inwardly. He shook his head, aiming for lighthearted when he said, "I won't hold it against you."

Lifting his backpack, Evan shuffled one seat over, so there was no longer a chair between their two bodies. He pushed his hand back inside his backpack to scratch between Mog's ears, anticipating the annoyed mewl. Closer to the American girl, he could lean over and peruse the front cover of the book she was no longer reading.

"At least you like English boys." he smirked, pointing at the playwrite's name emblazoned along the bottom. "Stratford boy! Billy Shakes, I mean."

[frasertakesflight]

What brings you to New York?

Sentimental, soppy idiocy, as bloody ever. Or maybe because I'm a massive prick who gets off on being rejected by women?

[valentinably]

↳INSTAGRAM: @.talkvalentina uploaded a photo:

Bringing back a couple of classics ahead of my seeing my darling soon!

[frasertakesflight]

@frasertakesflight: Please reserve a million kisses for me. Ta x

[frasertakesflight]

flashback - somewhere in spain.

Evan Fraser had long since realised he would never be one of those travel influencers. The ones with neat, Instagrammable packing cubes and a designer suitcase. He moved around too much - sometimes he hadn't even unpacked from one country before he was onto the next, dragging along the same dented case and hoping whatever hotel he'd been put up in had access to a washing machine. And truthfully, he was lazy. It would be a terrible quality to have - if things didn't work out so well for him all of the time.

Turned out, the whole bedraggled London playboy thing was exactly what Jet Set liked about him. His articles for the website were largely picture-heavy (he was certain his mug did a lot of the heavy lifting), his writing conversational in tone, accidentally funny more often than on purpose, and they really loved the whole cat angle. It was a perfect job, really. He could go wherever he pleased, and it got him out of his London flat and away from his overbearing family.

His thumb scrolled absently through his phone, eyes darting up every now and again to the departure board, where his flight appeared to be getting later and later. He stifled a yawn, reaching up to run a hand through his mane of unruly curls, unbrushed from where he'd rolled out of bed that morning. It appeared neither he nor Mog were getting to Marrakech any time soon.

Perhaps aware she was being thought of, a forlorn little mewl sounded from his backpack, a rustle as she stretched out in her little bubble - demanding the attention of her Dad. Wrapping a hand around his case, he dragged it to the nearest row of chairs, gently taking off the backpack and depositing it in his lap.

A chuckle escaped him as Mog butted her head against the small bubble, an insistent little gesture that meant she had had quite enough of being in her travel backpack, thank you. Evan unzipped the contraption just enough to fit his hand inside, fingers fluttering over her black and white fur.

"Not in the airport, Puss." he tittered, leaning in close, so that he didn't come across as some kind of barmy man who talked to himself. The cat got him enough looks, thank you very much.

He stretched out his legs in front of him, glancing around at the hubbub of the departures lounge. A steady mixture of people, impatient and lounging around as they waited for their flight, and those rushing to the airport gate. Eventually, his gaze dropped on the woman beside him, who didn't seem perplexed whatsoever by her surroundings, and was instead nose deep in a book.

"Are you the Morocco flight?" he asked, plastering on his most amenable smile.

When she went on reading, he cleared his throat.

"Are you pretending to read so that you don't have to talk to me, or something?" he tried again.

[lawyerupbailey]

INSTAGRAM: @baileymeads uploaded a photo:

Photo credits go to @swimmysally for making me look like Danny Zuko.

[frasertakesflight]

@frasertakesflight: @baileymeads I hope she made many ‘stranded at the drive in’ jokes in my absence.

[frasertakesflight]

↳INSTAGRAM: @frasertakesflight uploaded a photo:

Packing for the next trip is going well. Think Mog is in here somewhere.

[shatteredgossip]

@mountainmanmonty: Reunion when?

[frasertakesflight]

@frasertakesflight: @mountainmanmonty Can I run into your arms Love Actually style?

[frasertakesflight]

↳INSTAGRAM: @frasertakesflight uploaded a photo:

Packing for the next trip is going well. Think Mog is in here somewhere.

[captainellispond]

@xanderellispond: Where are you off to next, Evan? Have a great time!

[frasertakesflight]

@frasertakesflight: @xanderellispond Taking a break from the travel writing thing to make some house calls. Will I be seeing you?

[frasertakesflight]

↳INSTAGRAM: @frasertakesflight uploaded a photo:

Packing for the next trip is going well. Think Mog is in here somewhere.

[stainglasslydia]

@breslinsresin: Where is my child. Show her to me.

[frasertakesflight]

@frasertakesflight: @breslinsresin Currently sleeping curled up in her backpack. She wants to see the world. I'll FT you.

[frasertakesflight]

↳INSTAGRAM: @frasertakesflight uploaded a photo:

Packing for the next trip is going well. Think Mog is in here somewhere.

[jollytalkerollywalker]

@jollyollywalker: Don’t mind Hannah :D Bring your cute face here!

[frasertakesflight]

@frasertakesflight: @jollyollywalker Only if I can take you for a drink?

[frasertakesflight]

↳INSTAGRAM: @frasertakesflight uploaded a photo:

Packing for the next trip is going well. Think Mog is in here somewhere.

[walkerinthewilderness]

@hannahthewalker: only come to nyc if you’re bringing the cat

[frasertakesflight]

@frasertakesflight: @hannahthewalker Cor... I missed you too, Hannah!

[frasertakesflight]

↳INSTAGRAM: @frasertakesflight uploaded a photo:

Packing for the next trip is going well. Think Mog is in here somewhere.

[daffodilwithit]

@d.sterling: You always pack like that?

[frasertakesflight]

@frasertakesflight: @d.sterling Don't be horrified, sometimes I don't even unpack between countries.