Hello life ruiners. :) For Modern Glasgow AU, imagine possessive Claire at a hospital celebration for her after taking her oath. Possibly Leghair is involved again... And we know what that does to Dr. Fraser. #winkwink
Anonymous asked: Would love to find out what happens on the day that Claire graduates from medical school (with Jamie, Murtagh and the children in tow!). Thank you!
Modern Glasgow AU
Soon-to-be-Dr. Claire Fraser squinted at the line of
classmates lined up in the auditorium hallway, chattering idly as they killed
the thirty minutes before the ceremony began.
Almost all the way to the front of the line – no longer
at the very font, now that she was a Fraser rather than a Beauchamp. Right in
front of an exit stairway the line sank – two young women perched in twin hard
plastic chairs, engrossed in conversation.
Both heads swiveled upwards, irritated.
“What letter is this? I’m Claire Fraser. I know I don’t have to go all the
way to the front – ”
“I’m Malva Christie,” the brunette replied. “And this is
Geneva Dunsany. You’re probably behind us.”
“Nice to meet you both.” Claire smiled tightly, suddenly
feeling very tired and not in the least bit sociable.
“Pleasure,” Geneva replied automatically. “Are you a
nurse like us?”
“No – I’m graduating from the medical program. I’m planning
to be a surgeon.”
“Hmm.” Malva tilted her head, turning away – idly scanning
Claire mentally counted to five.
“I don’t mean to be rude, Malva, Geneva – but would one
of you mind letting me take a seat? It’s not exactly easy for me to stand for
long periods these days.”
“Oh – um, sure.” Geneva shrugged and rose, moving to
stand on Malva’s other side. Claire unceremoniously plopped down, stretching
her legs and resting her hands on the eight-month swell of her second daughter.
“Thank you,” Claire smiled at the younger woman. “If I
may say so – you don’t sound like you’re from Glasgow. I’m originally from
Geneva shrugged. “I’m from the Lake District – followed a
loser boyfriend to Glasgow.”
“She’s being modest,” Malva chimed in. “She has a *thing*
for gingers, and that man was no exception.”
“Oh, aye,” Malva continued, as Geneva blushed. “She loses
all sense when she sees one. Strangest thing.”
Now Malva squirmed in her seat, and Claire politely
turned away. Silently she watched fellow graduates mill around in the hallway,
trying to find their place, laughing and joking, slapping each other on the
She had made her own joyful farewell not too long before,
kissing Faith’s tiny brow and then Jamie’s cheek before he and Murtagh stole
away to their seats.
Pulling out her phone, she checked the time – fifteen
minutes to go.
Then five text messages – selfies with different
combinations of Jamie, Faith, and Murtagh. And one from Jamie, full of hearts.
How she loved her family.
How she couldn’t believe she had finally made this day!
What with all the sacrifices she and Jamie had made, both personally and
financially – and then somehow figuring out how to balance caring for an infant
and finishing her coursework – it was truly a miracle that she was able to
graduate with her class.
“…see that ginger stunner when we arrived, though? I ken
ye’ve sworn off them – ”
“Of *course* I did, Mal. I’ve eyes in my head.”
“Only, I was thinking – maybe you could approach him,
afterwards? He seemed to be alone…”
Claire bit the inside of her lip, absently rubbing her
belly. Graduation gowns weren’t exactly designed for pregnant women – she counted
four separate beads of sweat running down her chest and back.
Bairn Two was especially active…
“Oh my God! He’s here!!” Malva squeaked.
“Shut up! Oh my God,” Geneva fidgeted with her hair – a useless
exercise when wearing a mortarboard. “Can you talk to him? Get him to stop?”
“Don’t worry – I’ll take care of that.” Claire waited
confidently, and then –
“*There* you are!” Jamie – effortlessly casual in his
best Barbour shirt and dark jeans – parted the line of soon-to-be graduates and
knelt before Claire. “Thank God ye found a seat. Do ye need anything? Water?
Snack? Faith just fell asleep, so – ”
“I’m fine – we both are.” Claire reached out a hand.
Jamie took it, kissed it. Vibrating with joy.
So happy to be sharing this moment.
“All right!” A uniformed usher materialized, waving at
random. “Graduates! Places please!”
Jamie rose and bent to kiss her forehead.
He extended one arm, and she gripped it, and let him help
She tilted her chin – and he gave her a good and proper
“I’ll see you soon – Dr. Fraser.”
And he darted away.
Claire turned to face forward – and a gaping Malva and
Three posters I did last year were selected for the Poster Competition exhibition in Glasgow. Thank you again for a great opportunity to be a small part of this festival which is growing every year. (140 posters of 6095 entries were selected for the show this year.) The Poster Competition will be held from the 20th October until the 25th November.
Claire and her little ladies (a Modern Glasgow AU contribution)
Note: So, Miss Gotham is God’s gift to this fandom… And she gave us the greatest gift of Modern Glasgow. Being the great person and friend that she is, and after all my mad fangirling over it, she not only motivated me, but also helped me sort out everything I had scrambled, to put together this wee contribution for an idea I prompted. I am #1800blessed for this lady and the wee fools. Thank you for letting me in on your universe @gotham-ruaidh. Hope you all enjoy it.
The Frasers needed a day off from the daunting task of packing and labelling their belongings. That’s what Claire thought first thing that morning, opening her eyes to her husband’s red mane right beside her. They were preparing to move to Lallybroch and the summer was coming to an end.
The next thing was that she needed to get to the bathroom. The wee bannock was very excited in the early hours of the day, as had been its sisters and brother, but Claire would never got used to that queasy feeling, even in her fourth pregnancy. Aside from the physical discomfort, she didn’t really mind… If it happened, the baby was there, and moving, and everything was alright.
“Yes, we are happy today”, she whispered to her little one. “Let’s get everyone out of bed.”
Waking Jamie up with a kiss on the lips and another one on the cheek (to which he responded with a lopsided smile and a stray arse grab - his palm seemed to be drawn to it), Claire woke up the little Frasers. First the boys… Fergus was already awake, checking his phone. Willie responded with grunts at his mama’s request, and Fergus assured her he would take care of the rest. Faith was half awake already, as Claire opened the blinds to the girl’s room. There were unpleasant grunting sounds from the copper head buried beneath the covers. Wee Faith proceeded to come down from her top bunk bed, jumping on her sister and coercing her to wake up. The day would be filled.
It was Saturday, no school, but Claire had some exciting plans for the day. Mother-daughter plans, to be exact. Claire, Brianna and Faith kept little traditions: a tea date for 9 year old Faith, a field trip to a bookshop for 8 year old Bree… But today, the boys were off to help Uncle Murtagh and Aunt Suzette with their own packing. They were also going to move to Lallybroch. Murtagh would help Jenny and Ian (and Jamie) run the estate, but the truth was that they would move because neither the sweet grumpy old man nor his sweet French wife would want to stay far from their wee Fraser godchildren.
So, Claire took her little ladies to brunch.
Faith and Brianna were both quite tall for their age, not a surprise if you looked at their father, and were almost as tall as Claire at this point. She admired the wild curly copper head of Bree and the stray brown curls coming out off of Faith’s braid and her heart swelled with pride. To think that she once thought she would never be able to be a mother… She remembered the scare of Faith’s birth, the sleepless stressful nights when she was pregnant with Brianna, when everything from medical school exams to the worst birthing scenarios came to her in dreams, and only Jamie’s soothing words, promises and skilled touch could calm her down and ease her into sleep again.
But they had made it work. And along came William, and the blessing that was Fergus. Claire thought that yes, that was her life. She had never had sisters or brothers, but watching Jamie with Jenny and Ian (and her own relationship with Jenny), proved her the incredible joy of having siblings, the moments of deep tenderness, those of fiery fights and the bond that united them. Brianna and Faith were so much alike and so different at the same time. They shared a fierce nature and were always ready to protect each other, even when they wanted to rattle each other’s ears. They were thick as thieves.
As they sat in a cosy Glasgow coffee shop, ordered the brunch menu, and began munching on mini sandwiches, steamy porridge, buttery scones, eggs benedict, tea and orange juice, they talked about school and how excited every young Fraser was to start the year in a brand new school, and a special one to that - the same schoolhouse their Da had attended. Not to mention living closer to their cousins. In the midst of the conversation, the wee bannock decided it wanted a bit of the fun too, and Claire winced a bit.
“Mama, are ye alright?”
“Yes darling, just your little sister.. She wants to be a part of the conversation, of course.” *How very Beauchamp of her.*
“SISTER?” Brianna and Faith screamed, scaring the waitress passing behind them with a tray of pastries.
“Now, calm down… We are not sure, Da doesn’t want to know, like we didn’t with the both of you actually, and I agreed. But I have a feeling, and I haven’t been wrong yet.”
“Yes, we know how Da just wanted to hear about number three to see if it was going to be a boy… And it was. He convinced you to find out early, Mama. He may do the same again!” Faith rolled her eyes, but giggled.
Claire thought to herself that Jamie’s methods of convincing her to do certain things were not a suitable topic… at that specific moment… with her daughters.
“Mama, what would her name be, if it is a girl?” demanded Bree.
“Well, I haven’t thought about it yet… What would you like to name your little sister? Or brother?”
“Edward for a boy! Or Henry like your da… Since we already have a Brian in myself.”, Brianna added with a beam of pride in her eye and lifting her little chin in a very Fraser-like manner. She was very proud of her name.
“Meh, because everyone thought you’d be a boy.” Faith said mockingly, just meaning to tease her little sister, who responded by sticking her tongue out to her.
Faith simply rolled her eyes and continued. “Mama, I have auntie Jenny in my name, Bree has grannie Ellen, I think a good name for a girl would be Julia… That was your mama’s name, right?”
Claire felt the sting of tears and smiled at her eldest daughter. Of course she had thought about it before… As soon as she felt she was pregnant again, after the initial panic and Jamie’s comforting words.
*It’s a girl, and her name will be Julia.* These were Claire’s thoughts, as she lay with legs intertwined with her husband’s, as he held her and played with her hair. She had just told him about the pregnancy news, crying, and of course, Mr. Fraser almost cried himself. Basking in a warm Glasgow sun, without notice, Jamie just said, “I feel like I knew it before ye told me, Sassenach. And if it is a girl, and let’s be honest, we are very good at making them, her name ought to be Julia… What do you think, mo nighean donn?” Claire looked at him in awe and that was settled. Now, they just had to peacefully wait…
“Yes, I think Da will like it… We shall see, when we get to Lallybroch and this wee bannock is ready to come out of the oven, ok?”
Claire winked at the little girls. She knew they’d be great older sisters to another girl, and started wondering whose eyes would she have, which colour would her hair be… Started looking forward to seeing her husband holding another baby again, her favourite sight in the world. The pregnancy had scared her, and she knew now it would be the last one, but the connection of deep intimacy she already shared with this little baby overshadowed anything else. Everything would be perfect, even in the wee imperfections. She - and Jamie - would see to that.
As the meal came to an end and Mama listened to her little ladies chatting about the bookshop they were going to visit after (“one more Harry Potter book? But William ripped some pages out of Goblet of Fire!!”), and talking about who would take which room at Lallybroch, Claire asked for the check and took a little blue silk bag out of her purse.
“I have something for you two, and for myself. Close your eyes and give me your right arm.”
The girls obediently did so, squirming in curiosity. “Brianna, close your eyes”, scolded Claire as one deep blue eye was trying to peek. In each of the girls’ wrists, Claire placed beautiful silver bracelets, very simple, adorned with one pearl and one gem stone. Faith’s was purple, Brianna’s was red. As she told the girls to open their eyes, she placed another one in her own wrist, this one with a blue stone. In the bag stayed one with a green stone, waiting for its owner.
“Mama, it’s beautiful, thank you!”
“We all have, or will have…” added Claire caressing the little bump that was starting to get noticeable, “the same bracelet. Think of it as your lucky charm. It’s to remind you that you come from a family that loves you, that you each have your sisters that love you and will protect you… And you come from great women.”
Taking Faith’s wrist, she touched the pearl on the little girl’s bracelet and added, “The silver comes from me and da, my wedding ring is silver, right? The pearl is from grannie Ellen’s necklace, and each of your gems come from some of my mother’s jewels. From a pair of vintage earrings and a ring. Two of the few things I remember her wearing, clearly, as she gave me a goodnight kiss. Take good care of them and each other, no matter where you are, do you promise?”
The girls nodded and smiled proudly at their mother, caressing their bracelets, forever carrying the legacy of the extraordinary women who gave them life, and their parents’ love… That one was for the ages.
It's been a while since we got some Modern Glasgow love. So what if Jamie and Claire need a holiday, away from their frantic lives for a bit. We know they love their kids, but sometimes a break is needed. Maybe a nice wee date or a weekend getaway? Thank you Gotham!!
Faith Fraser – aged almost two – let out a wee cheer and
scampered from the couch to the front door of the flat. Her sister Brianna –
aged almost one, and at that stage where she mimed almost everything her
beloved older sister did – let out her own confused wee cheer, and speed-crawled
across the carpet, keeping up the best she could.
Murtagh knelt to help Faith into her bright blue sweater,
then lifted Brianna to his hip, wrapping a worn Fraser plaid arisaid around her
wee shoulders – knowing that Claire would have his head if she heard that her
daughters had so much as stuck their wee noses outside without proper covering.
Faith enthusiastically nodded, and Murtagh carefully
opened the door, let Faith run out to the landing, and then turned to lock the
door behind him, balancing a suddenly squirmy Brianna.
“*Seas, a ruaidh,*” he hushed her. “Ye’ll be chasing
after yer sister soon enough. Faith! Dinna go down the stairs until I’m there!”
Faith theatrically froze at the top step – one small leg
poised to take the first step down – waiting for her godfather.
And then Murtagh was there, taking her hand, guiding her
down the three flights to the ground floor and unlocking the entry door.
Chilly, damp air – unusual for July – blasted through the
open door – and Brianna suddenly snuggled against his neck, seeking warmth.
“Sshh,” he soothed. “I ken it’s almost yer naptime.”
Swiftly he unlocked the mailbox, and allowed the cards,
letters, and magazines to spill out.
“Muwta!” Faith admonished. “Ye haf to clean up the mess!”
“Weel – can ye help me, Ms. Faith? I have my hands full
wi’ yer wee sister here.”
Gleefully she bent to stuff her arms full of mail – and one
particular piece caught her eye.
“Issa coo!” she exclaimed, holding the postcard out to
Murtagh for his inspection. “Just like Bwee’s toy!”
“Aye – it’s a bonny coo,” Murtagh agreed, smiling at the blasé
picture. “And look – it’s from the Isle of Skye! Who could possibly have sent
“Mama and Da!” Faith exclaimed.
“Mama?” Bree briefly perked up, craning her neck to see if
her beloved parents had suddenly returned.
“No, *a leannan* - they’re no’ back yet,” Murtagh
soothed, running a gentle hand up and down Bree’s wee back. “They should be
back tomorrow – come then, Faith. Help me wi’ the post and then we can go back
upstairs, make some tea, and read their postcard – all right?”
“All right!” Suddenly engrossed in her task, Faith
scooped up all the pieces of mail and darted back up the stairs – stray letters
fluttering behind her.
“Mama?” Bree asked again, voice filled with sleep.”
“Hush now – lay yer heid. Mama and Da love ye so much.”
Bree settled back against him – and blessed his neck with
a small, wet sneeze.
“And Murtagh loves ye and Faith more than he can ever
find the words to say,” he continued, turning back to the stairs. “Though God
kens it’s trying sometimes.”
“Dear Faith and Bree – we saw so many coos today! And
sheep and goats too. The weather is bonny and we wish ye were here with us.
Mama says we can come back once the baby comes, and take a proper holiday. Hope
you aren’t giving Murtagh too much trouble. Lots of love, Mama and Da.”
Jamie looked up from the desk at the corner of their
hotel room. “What do ye think?”
Claire stretched, naked, amid the soft duvet, rubbing the
five-month swell of their bairn. “I think we’ll need to get a nice bottle of
whisky, for Murtagh. And of course a coo for Faith, since she’ll be jealous
that Bree has one and she doesn’t.”
“I’m glad she won’t take it for herself, then – God kens
it’s what I would do,” Jamie smiled, finishing the last of his tea.
“Well - *I* like to raise my children to have manners,”
she teased, rolling over to one side, watching him. “This one, too.”
Jamie rose, crossed the room, and slid over her on the
bed, pushing her to her back, holding himself up on his arms above her. Feeling
their bairn dance under his belly.
“God bless women like you for bringing more Frasers into
this world,” he breathed, rolling them to rest on their sides, still skin on
“It means I’m going straight to heaven,” she teased. “For
putting up with you.”
“I hope you’re willing to do a wee bit more than just put
up wi’ me,” he whispered against her lips. She closed the gap in a long, heated
“Happy anniversary, Jamie.” She rolled on top of him. His
fingers skimmed all over her beautiful, glowing skin.
“Six years,” he breathed, swallowing with want and
emotion. “Holy God, Claire – we have forever together. Do ye ken that?”
She smiled – and took him, gasping, inside – and he kent
I need some help deciding! Me and hubby are going on a road trip though England, Wales and Scotland next year. We pretty much have our route planned but we’re debating on whether to stay in Glasgow or Edinburgh. We don’t have time for both (maybe a quick visit to the city we’re not staying in).
What we’re looking for most is architecture, history, museums, food, parks, theatre, some unique sights, … Things we’re not looking for is nightlife or pubs.
We’ve heard good things about both cities and the people I’ve asked so far have all given us different answers. So I’m asking it on here too, anyone who’s ever been to these cities, if you had to choose which one would win?
Jamie glided the battered Range Rover to the last free space in the car park, put on the brake, and shut off the engine. The Corries were cut off in mid-song, and silence echoed in the car. Jamie turned back in his seat to address his children - eight-year-old William sitting beside ten-month-old Julia in her car seat in the middle row, nine-year-old Brianna and ten-year-old Faith lounging in the back row.
“All right, Frasers. We have exactly thirty minutes until we need to be back in the car. Yer Mam needs us all to get home on time so that she can help Mrs. Crook make the special welcome dinner for Fergus.”
“What time does he get home?” Brianna twirled one long red lock around a finger.
“Uncle Ian is picking him up from the train station at four o'clock. It’s noon now. Mam wants it to be all special for him, because he hasn’t been home since he went away to university all those weeks ago.”
“It feels like forever,” William huffed, wriggling under his seatbelt.
“Aye, weel. We’ll all see him soon enough. But I need everybody to help me get all the things on the shopping list, all right?”
“All right, Da,” Faith sighed, clearly annoyed at being made to do boring chores on a Saturday.
“Good. Girls - get yerselves out. William, can ye help wi’ Julia?”
“Aye, Da.” William turned to unbuckle Julia from her car seat and gently lift her into his arms. Jamie and the girls slid out, and Brianna held the door open for William as he slid off the seat and into the car park. Julia instantly reached for her Da, and he locked the doors before settling her on one hip.
“All right. Stay close to me, aye? I dinna want to take one of ye to Mam’s clinic because ye werena careful crossing the road.
William’s hand slipped into Jamie’s, and Jamie made the girls walk in front of him as they neared the entrance.
“I’ll get the cart!” Brianna dashed toward the entrance and pulled a shopping cart from the long row.
“Can I push the cart, Da?”
Jamie settled Julia into the basket at the front of the cart, carefully pulling her stubby legs through through the gaps at the front. “It’s still a bit to tall for ye, lad - but do ye want to hold the list?”
William beamed, and Jamie fished the crumpled list - written in Claire’s neat script - from his pocket. He bent to kiss the blond curls at the top of Julia’s head - and she giggled - and he smiled as he pushed the cart through the entrance.
“All right, William - are there any fruits or vegetables on Mam’s list?”
William frowned, trailing a grubby finger down the handwritten rows. “Mama wants potatoes, and leeks, and strawberries.”
“I’ll get the strawberries, Da!”
Faith turned on her heel, but Jamie quickly reached to grab her shoulder.
“Hold on - stay wi’ Brianna, now. Can the two of ye get the leeks and strawberries? William and I will find the potatoes.”
Brianna nodded and the sisters darted off.
“The potatoes are over here, Da,” William pointed to the other side of the store. Jamie pushed the cart down the aisle to the potatoes, and bent to toss a five-kilo bag into the cart.
“All right, lad. What else?”
And so it continued - William read each item off the list, and Jamie divided the items between his children, making sure that Julia didn’t try to stick anything within reach into her mouth.
The market was safe for the bairns - they had been here many times before - but he never let them out of his sight. They were all so precious to him - all such a vital part of him - and he wanted them to be safe, as much as he also wanted them to be independent and self-sufficient.
All went well - until they reached the snack aisle.
“No,” he said for the fourth time as Brianna casually tossed a large bag of crisps into the cart. “Ye ken how yer Mam feels about those things.”
“But they’re so *good*, Da. And Rabbie’s mam lets him have them, so why can’t our Mam?”
“Please take it out of the cart, Faith, and find the walnuts. Ye ken that Fergus likes Mrs. Crook’s cookies to have the walnuts in them.”
“Yes, Da.” She sighed theatrically, removed the item from the cart, and pulled Brianna down the aisle.
Jamie turned to his son. He had stuck out his lip and - were those tears in his eyes?
“Come now, William. Dinna do that. Ye ken I willa let ye buy them - and I dinna give a fig for what Mrs. MacNab serves her bairns. She’s no’ yer Mam, the last I checked.”
Julia rocked back and forth in the cart. Jamie lay a gentle hand on her back to steady her.
“But Da - not even the one bag? Fergus likes them.”
Jamie’s eyes narrowed at his son - who gazed back at him with his own eyes.
He sighed. “Just the one bag, then. We’re running out of time.”
Jamie pushed the cart down the aisle to meet up with his daughters. Faith clutched the bag of walnuts - and Brianna held a bag of frosted biscuits.
“These are Fergus’ favorite, Da,” she insisted. “He loves the different animal shapes, ken?”
William ran up from behind and tossed two bags of crisps into the cart. Faith’s eyes went wide, but she wisely said nothing.
Jamie shook his head. “I canna argue wi’ anyone today, it seems. Come now. Put it in. Anything left on the list, William?”
William patted his pocket - but in the excitement over Da allowing them to buy snacks, he had somehow lost it.
Jamie ruffled his son’s hair and peered in the cart. “I suppose this will do. Brianna - can ye help me steer the front?”
Checking out and bagging the goods went fairly smoothly - after all, he had three very enthusiastic assistants, and Julia absolutely charmed the cashier.
Faith had conveniently kept the bag of frosted biscuits separate from the bagged groceries, and opened the bag to share with her siblings before they even left the store. They wiped sticky fingers on their trouser legs as they helped Da load the groceries and buckle in Julia before pulling out of the car park and singing “Flower of Scotland” at the tops of their lungs on the way back to Lallybroch.
Once they arrived home, they tore out of the Range Rover and ran into the house like fiends. Jamie shook his head and looked back at Julia, who was gumming the side of her carseat.
“I’m going to be in so much trouble, *mo nighean òir*. I canna say no to any of them - and God help me, I’ll have no hope with you, either.”
She snorted happily, reaching for him.
Two minutes later he was carrying three bags of groceries in one hand and balancing Julia with his other. Claire appeared at the door, and he bent to kiss her.
She pulled back.
“What did you feed them? They’re full of sugar. I can’t afford to have their supper ruined, not when Mrs. Crook has been working so hard - ”
He dropped the grocery bags with a loud clunk on the paving stones, wound an arm around her hips, pulled her close, and kissed her hard.
She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her.
Finally Julia squealed - having patted her Mama’s shoulder, to no avail - and Jamie released her.
“I couldna help myself, Claire. I wanted to get back in time, and I didna feel like getting into an argument there in the middle of the market - ”
She pulled Julia onto her hip and held her close as the little girl rubbed her face in her Mama’s shoulder.
Claire sighed, resigned. “If we had more time, I’d give you a talking-to.”
Jamie’s eyes darkened - and then narrowed. “If we had more time, *mo nighean donn*,” he whispered, voice low, hand still tight on her hip, “I’d take ye around the corner to the barn, push up that skirt, and give ye a proper talking-to of another kind.”
She blushed prettily, and he smiled, and she shook her head.
“Camminavo col mio cestino tra i reparti di un supermercato di Glasgow, con la maglia di Rumplestiltskin, il ciondolo del pugnale al collo e l'anello di Mr. Gold nella borsa, quando, arrivata alla fine del corridoio, giro l'angolo e… BOOM. Me lo trovo davanti. Robert Carlyle, con i due bambini e un carrello pieno. Rimango impietrita. "Oh my God” dico. Lui, occhiali da sole, gira la testa. “Robert? Sei… sei reale?” - “Beh, lo spero!” dice sorridendo e mi stringe la mano. Continuando a dire “Oh my God” gli chiedo una foto, accetta di buon grado, poi gli dico che sono italiana e lui mi dice “Ciao bella!”. Mi raccoglie la foderina dell'ombrello, caduta a terra. Lo ringrazio. Gli dico che lui per me è praticamente un Dio e lui scuote la testa, sorridendo. Mi stringe di nuovo le mani, dicendomi che è un piacere. Gli chiedo se possiamo fare la foto anche col cellulare e lui accetta di nuovo di buon grado. Dico che non posso fare io il selfie e lui nota le mie mani che tremano all'inverosimile, così dice lo può fare il bambino. Ci fa due o tre foto (identiche, perché non ne avevo idea), poi gli dico di guardare il pugnale e la maglietta. Lui abbassa lo sguardo sul mio petto e apre la bocca. Prende in mano il pugnale, lo guarda, ride… Poi vuole vedere la maglia: gliela stendo, gli dico che c'è scritto “Evil isn’t born, dearies” e lui è sconvolto. In senso positivo. Mi chiede dove ho trovato tutta quella roba e mi dice qualcosa del tipo “Cosa ti ha fatto entrare in questo negozio, oggi?” io allargo le braccia, come a dirgli “Non so cosa dirti!” Gli dico che ho anche l'anello, lo vuole vedere. Lo tiro fuori e glielo porgo. Lui ride. Se lo prova. Non gli sta. A me sta grande, a lui piccolo. Me lo rende. Mi prende la mano, mi ringrazia per tutto quel sostegno. Non smette di sorridere. Poi arriva il colpo di grazia. Una cosa che non mi sarei mai aspettata. Una cosa che avrei voluto fare io, ma ero troppo impietrita e tremante, la mente svuotata, per farlo. No problem, lo ha fatto lui… come se fosse commosso - non vedevo i suoi occhi, ma l'impressione era quella. È stato un attimo. Si avvicina, allunga le braccia mi prende, mi bacia su una guancia e mi abbraccia forte. Io lo stringo. Potevo morire tra le sue braccia in quel momento. Si stacca di nuovo, mi guarda e mi ringrazia ancora e ancora per il supporto. Mi dice che è stato davvero un grande piacere incontrarmi. Mi ringrazia ancora. Cioè, capite? Lui ringrazia me? Lui abbraccia me? C'è qualcosa che non torna in tutto questo. Io devo ringraziarlo per tutta la sua carriera, per essere l'attore che è, per essere l'uomo che è… per essere stato fantastico con me… Alla fine ho avuto la forza di ringraziarlo per tutto il suo lavoro. Anyway, ci salutiamo e ognuno prosegue il suo shopping. È stato incredibile. Non poteva andare meglio di così. Thank you, Robert. Really, thank you. You’re amazing. Ps: nella foto sono venuta malissimo, come al solito, dunque non fate caso a me.“
Girl Friendships Project: Call for interviewees in Scotland/UK
I’m a photographer and Communication Design student at the Glasgow School of Art making a photographic series about women’s relationships (familial, platonic or romantic) with other women.
I’m looking to hold a number of interviews with women - this is where you come in!
If you’re an LBPQA+ woman (trans or cis) or non-binary person who is feminine-identified (not necessarily feminine-presenting; just if you feel in any way “female”) some or all of the time who would feel comfortable speaking to me about a relationship you have with another woman, please drop me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org
If this doesn’t sound like your cup of tea but you think it might appeal to someone you know please reblog!