exile.

emma (2020), dir. autumn de wilde // futile devices, sufjan stevens // the bluest eye, toni morrison // sex education (2021), dir. sophie goodhart // chasing cars, snow patrol // maurice, e m forster

                 ❝   i   think   so,   more   just   …   nervous   about   when   the   baby   is   here,   you   know   ?   ❞   a   family   with   a   few   little   kids   entered   the   store   then,   almost   as   if   on   cue.   ❝   i   think   i   need   to   get   a   job   at   the   ministry   or   something.   get   some   more   stable   hours   to   help   out   molly   when   she   can’t   work.   my   newts   scores   didn’t   allow   me   to   before.   ❞   arthur   shrugged,   feeling   a   bit   embarrassed   of   himself   in   that   moment.   ❝   technically   i’m   off   now   if   you   want   to   get   out   of   the   chaos,   and   biting   teacups,   ❞   he   chuckled   as   he   took   off   his   apron.

Jamie nods, his own gaze flickering over to the children as they’re let loose in the shop, immediately scattering to the four winds. He can understand why Arthur would be nervous - twenty-three seems really young to have your entire life figured out, and that’s what kids need most, right? Stability? It’s terrifying to think you’re suddenly responsible for someone that relies on you completely. “I can ask around if ye want, see if anyone’s lookin’,” he offers with a shrug. “Though it won’t be anythin’ glamourous, mind.” Just a steady nine-to-five in a boring yet essential department of the magical government, not dissimilar from Jamie’s own.

“Aye, go on then. Pub?” He suggests, quietly relieved by the possibility of leaving Zonko’s in the immediate future. “Erm. Congratulations, by the way. I’m realisin’ now that I never actually said it, so... yeah.”

                       billie   isn’t   quite   sure   her   words   had   landed   at   first   ,      as   carefully   chosen   as   they   were   —   she   had   some   tact   ,      she   wasn’t   about   to   out   jamie   ,      just   let   him   know   she   knew   what   she   was   talking   about   —   but   she   tracked   the   journey   on   his   face   well   enough   .      well   enough   that   his   denial   stung   .      she   wasn’t   wrong   .         ❝   don’t   deny   it   ,   not   to   me   .      we   don’t   need   to   be   specific   but   i   know   .      and   i   know   you   hurt   him      ❞         she   was   younger   ,      much   shorter   too   ,      and   it   made   an   all   together   too   funny   image   for   billie   to   be   the   one   coming   to   her   brothers   ‘aid’   ,      not   that   he   knew   she   was   doing   this   .         ❝      you   should   do   the   same   then   ,      stay   the   hell   away   from   him   .      i   won’t   let   you   hurt   him   again      ❞

It’s hard to hear Sybill over the relentless pounding of blood in his ears, his thoughts careening wildly between confusion, paranoia, and betrayal. If Peter’s told her, who else has he told? Black? Potter? They’ve probably all been having a good laugh at his expense, at how stupid he is, about what a loser he is. He’s an idiot for getting mixed up in this again. “I don’t even know ye,” Jamie spits. He doesn’t owe her anything, least of all the truth.

What she says isn’t wrong though - Jamie isn’t heartless, he knows perfectly well that his selfishness has consequences, but that doesn’t make it any easier to hear. Does she think he likes hurting Peter? Because he doesn't. Apparently it just comes easily to him.

Feeling cornered, he lashes out, because that’s what he does best. He feels sick. Ashamed. “Oh, no fear of that, I wouldna go anywhere near him,” he snorts. “I dinna ken what bollocks yer wee cunt of a brother’s been chattin’ about me, but I’d advise ye both to keep my name out of yer fuckin’ mouths. I mean it. Leave me the fuck alone.” Jamie wishes he'd never come here. He wishes he'd never set eyes on Peter Pettigrew.

[ PERSONAL ]

$ Financial: wealthy (father) / moderate (self) / poor / in poverty

✚ Medical: fit / moderate / ill / disabled / disadvantaged / non applicable

✪ Class or Caste: upper / middle / working / street trash / slave / unsure

✔ Education: qualified / unqualified / studying / other

✖ Criminal Record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no / has committed crimes, but not caught / yes, but charges were dismissed

[ FAMILY ]

◒ Children: had a child or children / has no children / wants children

◑ Relationship with Family: close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / sibling(s) is deceased

◔ Affiliation: orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parent(s) / not applicable

[ TRAITS + TENDENCIES ]

♦ extroverted / introverted / in between

♦ unorganised / organised / in between

♦ close-minded / open-minded  / in between

♦ calm / anxious / in between

♦ disagreeable / agreeable / in between

♦ cautious / reckless / in between

♦ patient / impatient / in between

♦ outspoken / reserved / in between

♦ leader / follower / in between (outsider)

♦ empathetic / vicious bastard / in between

♦ optimistic / pessimistic / in between

♦ traditional / modern / in between

♦ hard-working / lazy / in between

♦ loyal / disloyal / unknown

♦ faithful / unfaithful / unknown

[ BELIEFS ]

★ Faith: monotheist / polytheist / atheist / agnostic / doesn’t care

☆ Belief in Ghosts or Spirits: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

✮ Belief in an Afterlife: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

✯ Belief in Reincarnation: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

❃ Belief in Aliens: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

✧ Religious: orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious

❀ Philosophical: yes / no

[ SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION ]

❤ Sexuality: heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual / demisexual

❥ Sex: sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favourable / naive and clueless

♥ Romance: romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favourable / naive and clueless / romance suspicious

❣ Sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious

⚧ Potential Sexual Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all

⚧ Potential Romantic Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all

[ ABILITIES ]

☠ Combat Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

≡ Literacy Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

✍ Artistic Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

✂ Technical Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

🏠 Domestic Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

[ HABITS ]

☕ Drinking Alcohol: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / alcoholic

☁ Smoking: trying to quit / quit / never / trying it / rarely / sometimes / frequently / chain-smoker

✿ Recreational Drugs: never / quit / trying it / rarely / sometimes / frequently / addict

✌ Medicinal Drugs: never / no longer needs medication / some medication needed / frequently / to excess

☻ Unhealthy Food: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / binge eater

$ Splurge Spending: never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / shopaholic

he wants to argue with him, but he doesn’t, just locking it away in his head so he can think about it and stew over it later. he had never believed that he’d be enough for anyone, there’s this doubt in his head that he doesn’t know what to do with because it’s too much for him to think about. he always had a million thoughts in his head that he never knew what to do with, emotions too. they were just too much for him. “maybe,” he says, before smiling down and looking at the tub in front of him. he knew that his mother loved him, and he was lucky that she had been so accepting when he had come out despite her worries. he remembers one of the first times that he had gotten beat up at hogwarts after someone had found out that peter had kissed one of his friends who swore would keep it a secret but never did. it didn’t matter to peter whether he did or not but the consequences of being so open still stayed with him. it had gotten better now, people become more discreet in their disdain but wanting to know what it’s like. he doesn’t want to think about how that used to effect him because it did, but he was stronger because of it. she had reason to worry about him but the love she felt for her son never faltered. 

he doesn’t know what his next move will bring, if jamie will push him away or pull him close, or both. he just knows that he’s being incredibly selfish trying his luck once again. he doesn’t know why he does it, or why there’s even some kind of magnetic pull but there is. he knows it’s because he had very genuine and real feelings for him that he tried to stuff down for years, looking for it in the wrong people before he eventually gave up thinking that he’d never feel that way about someone again. even now it’s still an intense feeling of being in the same room as someone you loved and not knowing what to do about it. it’s different now, they’re different now, and maybe jamie is still scared to be with him but he can work with that if jamie lets him. he had every reason to be scared and he wanted jamie to know that he could walk in the dark with him through it. 

he hears the door lock and he feels his hand roaming up and feels his fingers right as his clavicle, it’s a slow kiss, unlike the ones that he’s used to, so he relishes in it, moving up to get closer to him without breaking the kiss, this time he holds onto jamie’s jacket, holding onto it for dear life almost. he can taste the mix of alcohol between them, deepening the kiss, his tongue swiping his, he sighs into wanting to be closer- and more, but knowing that he can’t be as selfish as he wants to be, this space was delicate to begin with and he knew that. 

Even if he wanted to stop, Jamie isn’t sure he could. He’s smoked since he was fifteen, and has been drinking about as long, but he doesn’t think he ever really understood what it was like to be addicted to something until now. He breaks apart from Peter, but he doesn’t go far, nudging their noses and foreheads together before finally meeting his lips again. It’s maddening to feel this way, like he can’t be close enough, like he isn’t in control of what he wants, like that doesn’t actually matter.

The tips of Jamie’s fingers slip beneath the collar of Peter’s shirt, absently seeking the marks he left last time they were together, wondering if they’re somehow still there. He thinks about pressing his face into the crook of his neck again, about the smell of him, still the same underneath the alcohol and cigarette smoke. He feels Peter’s fingers tighten in the material of his jacket, and a quiet part of his subconscious recognises the gesture, sees his own behaviour mirrored back at him. Is he doing it on purpose?

                    ❝      i   know   you   ,      its   you   that   doesn’t   know   me   .      i   know   you   and   i   know   you   know   my   brother   .      and   i   know   how   you   know   my   brother      ❞         and   she   was   probably   one   of   ,   if   not   the   only   ,      people   on   this   earth   that   knew   that   .      billie   had   seen   just   how   cagey   peter   had   been   even   when   he   told   her   about   it      (   and   she   didn’t   blame   him   )   but   she’d   also   seen   how   deeply   hurt   he’d   been   and   the   fury   that   had   planted   within   her   .   that   anyone   would   make   her   brother   feel   like   that   —   feel   unwanted   .         ❝      ‘sat   doesn’t   change   the   facts   .      doesn’t   mean   you   can   tell   me   what   to   do      ❞

I know how you know my brother. The bottom drops out of Jamie’s stomach, and his skin prickles all over - first hot and then terribly, terribly cold. It isn’t just panic, or anger, or even the usual, all-consuming shame. It’s something new, something that catches him off guard and makes all the other things feel a hundred times worse. She knows. He told her. “Ye dinna ken what yer talking about,” Jamie says quickly, dismissively, though his eyes flicker to the other party-goers, trying to see if anyone else has heard. “If yer gonna talk such shite, ye can get tae fuck.”

he used to think that he didn’t hold much grievances over his father, but there are moments like this where he can feel the hurt throughout his entire body. he knows that it’s more than that. peter acted tough and proud, a fake bravery, because he wanted people to think of him like that, but when it came down to it, he wasn’t. he was just a scared little boy that didn’t know what he was doing half the time. “he is shit.” he says with a small smile shaking his head. “my mum deserves better than the pettigrew men,” he says, adding a little more honestly and vulnerability that he hasn’t really given anyone in his life. he didn’t like himself all that much because of his impulsiveness that worried his mother so much. “i want you to live a long and happy life,” she’d say as she tuck his hair back, nursing whatever new wound that he had gotten. he’s quiet for a moment before shaking his head. 

the moment feels different now, they’re close but they’re not close, jamie is wanting to pull away and peter isn’t letting him. he knows that he needs to, but he doesn’t know why he keeps holding on like it’ll solve anything. maybe naively thinking he’d feel the same way about him, and maybe he does and he just doesn’t know how to show it—it’s something that peter can understand. he’s holding on to peter’s sleeve, it’s the small moments that let him know that he wants to be close but can’t. 

“i don’t know,” peter says, letting out a small breath. “never been one to make smart decisions,” he says, their faces are still close, and peter is looking at him and his eyelashes, all the little tiny dots on his face. he tilts his head up a little, and then he goes in for a kiss, pressing his lips against the others, his breath is a little shaky doing it, and he’s selfish for it, and he knows it, but all of the logic tends to fly out the window with him being so close. it was an overwhelming feeling that doesn’t know what to do with, it should be illegal to feel this strongly about someone. 

“She deserves better than him,” Jamie corrects quietly, though it’s none of his business and he well knows it. What he knows about the relationships between mothers and sons could fit in an egg cup, but if there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s that you don’t get a boy like Peter without putting in a great deal of care. He’s entirely himself, for better or for worse, and that in itself is some kind of miracle. Why would she want any son other than the one she’s got? "She’ll never think she deserves better than ye. And she’s right. She’s yer mum, Peter. She loves ye as ye are.”

How are they back here again? For three years Jamie has managed to keep his distance from Peter, avoiding him and pushing him away in equal measure, but now... it’s like he can’t help himself. There’s no good reason for him to have followed Peter into this bathroom, and there’s certainly no good reason for him to still be sitting here when he could’ve left at any time. All there is is the truth: that Jamie is here of his own accord, and it’s all because he wants Peter Pettigrew. Now that he knows what it’s like to kiss him, to touch him, how the fuck is he supposed to keep away? How can he ever go back to pretending he doesn’t want those things? His stomach twists.

Jamie wishes Peter wouldn’t look at him so much. What is he even seeing? “Me neither,” he replies, his voice barely loud enough to hear. It’s almost a relief when Peter’s lips finally meet his, and he moves slightly towards him, meeting him part of the way. He honestly doesn’t know what he was more afraid of: that Peter would kiss him, or that he wouldn’t.

Without pulling away, Jamie fumbles to retrieve his wand from inside his jacket and points it at the door, hearing a metallic click from within as it locks. This isn’t like it was at the pub, or even at school - not an ill-considered tryst in a dark, but ultimately public space. This can be kept private. This Jamie can control. He puts his wand back in his pocket, and the hand that was clenched around Peter’s sleeve begins to drift, travelling the length of his arm to settle against his clavicle. With a locked door between them and the rest of the party, it’s easier. Jamie kisses him slowly, but no less desperately. It’s like his body’s been waiting for this moment, for the inevitability of seeing him again. I’m fucked.

maybe peter didn’t have the big kind of land to grow up on, the streets was his playground, the river and the many bridges by his house had been his sanctuary, but there would always be something missing when he looked over to his left to see a man and his boy fishing because they could. often without permits, the police only ever pretending to care that they were fishing without them. he’d instead grab a rock and skip it pretending that he had a father next to him to do it with. maybe in another universe that boy and his father had been him. maybe his father would’ve left them with something more than a couple of hundred dollars to their name to make a house a home. but they never could afford a house, just some shabby little hole in a wall above a fish n chip shop that would for sure go out of business within the next couple of years. “yeah,” he says, agreeing with him, not knowing what else to say to that, other than the fact that peter probably wouldn’t make it as far as the ministry because no one would believe that he could. 

“my dad left,” he says at first, looking down, “didn’t leave us much,” he sighs, “i used to wonder if maybe he’d ever come back. maybe thinking that the little bit that he left us would ever be enough to purchase something more but he never did.” he can’t remember the last time that he heard from his dad, other than small little things in passing that his mother would say to her friends on the phone. all that he knew was that his dad had a new life now, had another family, lived somewhere on the coast with more air and space that he needed and that he was happy. “so i used to hate it because it made my mum so sad,” he clenches his jaw so tightly, “it’s why i tried to pick up some shifts here and there where i could but coming home never used to feel right because there was this overwhelming gloom none of us knew what to do with.” it wasn’t the same—peter knew that he was lucky in a lot of ways but it never got rid of the fact that no matter what, peter would always be missing someone. 

it was stupid, to love someone this much, because what were you meant to do with the parts that they didn’t want? peter didn’t know. it was an overwhelming feeling to love someone this much the way that he loved jamie. he knew that it was first love- an overwhelming love that consumed him but he didn’t know where else to put all of it other than try his best to give it to him. sooner or later peter may get the point that maybe it wasn’t wanted, but jamie still wasn’t pulling away so peter took it as an opportunity to try and push himself a little more to tell him in some non subtle way that he was there and that he wasn’t going anywhere. it was a feeling that ran through him like nothing else. he felt like he was running on thin air that soon it would just leave him and his entire body and he would have to figure out what to do with himself once that it was gone. it should be illegal to feel this much for one person but it was too late now, he felt it and now he had to put it somewhere. give it to someone. 

peter wasn’t nearly as drunk enough to not do something stupid, and this was stupid, clearly giving all of this love for someone who didn’t want it. (or act like they didn’t want it). but here he was giving it away anyways. he watches the way jamie reacts to his touch, like it’s burning him, marking him in the same way that jamie had once marked him. it had made him quickly wince his reaction before realizing that it wasn’t neither of their faults—not really at least. he had held his face in his hands and didn’t do anything else, just watched him react to it. “okay,” he says, repeating him, “you can’t.” he didn’t know if he believed him, and by any means, jamie could push him away from him, and yet he still got closer to the other, so close that his forehead was touching his. 

“you can go,” he whispers, letting him know that, giving them a little bit more space now but not enough to where he was completely gone out of his atmosphere. he loosens his grip a little, releasing a little bit of his grip on his jaw and placing it on his neck and feeling his pulse underneath his fingers. “i can let you go.” he says, his voice barely a whisper. it’s an instinct to want to kiss him, but he knows that he can’t or wont, he’s already done too much as it is just being in the same room as him. 

If Jamie were a different sort of person, perhaps this is the point where he’d reach out to Peter, take his hand or try to smooth away the tension from his jaw. Instead he just listens, turning over what he says in his mind, adding yet another layer to the increasingly complex picture of the other man he’s taken such pains to form. It makes sense, that it’s not really about what he has, but about what he’s lost. Jamie’s own father is many things, but at least he isn’t the type to abandon his family. He can’t imagine what that would do to a person, to their sense of home. “Yer dad sounds shite,” he says simply, with feeling. It’s not very helpful, it’s not even really what he means. He ought to have said: I’m sorry that happened to you.

He can’t look at him. All he can do is hang onto Peter’s sleeve, clinging to his token attempt at resistance even as he moves in closer. Jamie lets out another shaking breath as their foreheads touch, feeling that dizzying mixture of fear and... something else entirely. It would be so easy to close the remaining distance between them, to claim his lips in a kiss, but he doesn’t. This feels different from the other times they’ve been alone together - it’s not so frantic, and he doesn’t know what to do with that.

“Is that not the phrase? I swear that’s– no, yeah, someone’s played a trick on me, haven’t they?” Reg laughed, picking up another drink from a passing tray. He’d usually take offense, but it’s hard to take that asshole’s words too seriously when he’s standing in Howlor Hall. What was the point of pretending it didn’t matter, here of all places? “It’s your fuckin’ fault for calling me a daughter– you ask, you get an answer. Do I seem sober enough to put up with that shite?”

Perhaps under a different set of circumstances Jamie might’ve pointed out the difference between a Glaswegian accent and his own, but his back’s already up, and he doesn’t have the patience for it. Not for the sake of some English bastard that probably doesn’t even care. “That’s not what I said,” he argues, feeling justified in doing so because for once he’s actually certain he’s right. “And it’s not my fault ye canna handle yer drink.”

     annette  regards  jamie  for  a  moment  after  his  outburst  ,  ❝ then  what  should  i  call  you  ,  mister  jamie  ?   ❞  the  light  tone  is  there  in  her  bright  voice  ,  smile  tugging  at  the  edges  of  her  lips  .  but  the  easiness  of  the  moment  only  falls  when  she  is  being  pulled  forward  by  the  male  .  he  does  it  with  such  ease  .  ❝ yourself ? ❞  she  questions  him  ,  flattening  the  part  of  her  jacket  that  had  been  disheveled  in  his  rescue .  ❝  why  wouldn’t i  be  here  ?   it’s  a  party  -  do  i  always  need  a  jury   to  attend  a  birthday  party  ?  ❞ 

“Just Jamie,” he corrects flatly, returning his hand to the safety of his pocket. They’re barely two years apart in age, and Jamie takes no joy in being the one to supervise her training - he’s only doing this because he was told he has to. Historically, he doesn’t play well with others. “Aye. Seemed like a good idea at the time.” Less of one now he’s remembered how much he hates socialising. He could’ve just got drunk at home by himself.

He shrugs at her response. “Ye can do what ye want. Was only askin'."