#Graceful Posy

[candylandphotos]

Beautiful girl with flowers in hand

"Captivating the moment: A beautiful girl holding flowers in her hand."

[thebahwrites]

It is Known™️ I don’t do fandom discourse and you won’t catch me engaging with it on main no siree! But in light of recent things, I’d just like to remind people to just... be kind. Please, be kind. It doesn’t cost much, to be nice, to be kind. Or if you don’t feel like being so, just don’t be mean. Grant yourself some grace and distance from things that aren’t what you like. It’s okay if something isn’t for you, it really is! But you don’t have to be mean or nasty or rude about it, not about other people’s creations nor to the creators themselves. Please, just be kind. 💖

[capn-twitchery]

PLEASE I'M SO CLOSE

[thecolorsfucked]

victorine could kill a thousand monkeys and it would be FINE

[coxinhadoce47-art]

Never gets old

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Tommy x wife reader: Charlie and Ruby are theirs (no grace or lizzie) and they have a few other children, in order of their ages: Charles (Charlie) James (Jamie) Edward (Teddie) Ruby (Ru)

And just after Ruby dies and Tommy finds out he’s dying, his wife finds out she is pregnant again and she is just traumatised by it as she’s lost her only daughter and her aunt-in-law and about to lose her husband too

But Tommy doesn’t die and they have a baby girl, who they name Rose Elizabeth, because Ruby loved roses and after Polly and they nickname her Posy as a portmanteau of Rosy and Polly

Hey Love,

Sorry it took forever. This one is pretty sad and I really enjoyed writing it. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Peaky Themes, Childbirth, Child death, grieving.

Not a single dull day had passed in Arrow House. It was always loud as the children ran around causing chaos. Today was so silent you could drop a tack in the kitchen and hear it in the attic. 

You lay on the floor of your youngest daughter's room. Your little girl. The grief clenched in your chest and you felt your heart miss a beat as your body twisted in on itself. You’d never felt such a loss in your life. 

Now you have a baby in your stomach, your husband is going to die leaving you with three boys. You knew you should be with him, enjoy his presence while you have him here amongst the living.

How could you worry about anything after watching your daughter slip from the world just a day ago? You remember holding her hand and singing to her. Thomas holding it together just until her eyes fluttered closed before falling apart in a way you didn't think him capable of. 

You sat there silently. Something deep inside you felt at peace. She was safe where she was. Polly was with her. Knowing something deep in your soul had never taken away from the way your brain and body worked. 

Your body hadn’t stopped shaking since it happened. Your limbs vibrating as you lay on her pink carpet. You felt discarded like all the stuffies and dolls that lay on the floor around you. Without her to come and breathe life into you, you would stay on the carpet like a doll. 

Teddie was the first person to find you. His small body came and curled up against your side. The warmth of him seeped into your icy body. 

A mother could only stop being a mother once she had no children left. And you had three. This moment of sadness and grief couldn't go on for the eternity you felt it needed. You had boys to wrangle. Little Ruby adored her brothers and you knew she wouldn't ever forgive you if you let them down. 

With the strength of a British Mum, you brushed the tears off your cheeks with the side of your hand. You sat up even though every selfish part of you screamed to lay back down on that carpet. To rot away to a place where you could hold her again. 

“Hey, Teddie.” You whispered running a hand down the small boy’s back. 

“Mum I’m hungry.” He mumbled.

“Teddie! Dad said we have to leave her alone.” Charlie was in the doorway, with his arms crossed. His tone was angry and you could swear he looked years older than the last time you saw him. 

“Darling, never leave me alone.” You said giving him a serious look. His face faltered slightly as he took in your words. “I’m still a mum. And mum’s make dinner, let’s go. Into the kitchen.” 

Teddie was happy and you picked him up even though he was far too big for that now. Walking down the hallway, Charlie surprised you when he opened Jamie’s door. 

You sat Teddie on his favorite spot on the counter and started getting out various pots and pans. 

“She’s up.” He said and your middle boy came into the hallway. Silently the four of you made it into the kitchen. Grief was creeping in all the shadows of the room as Charlie made a fire. 

“Ruby isn't coming home is she?” Teddie asked. Charlie let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose in the way only the eldest child could. 

“No, she’s with Aunt Polly now. They live in the sky.” Jamie answered softly. You gripped the edges of the pot tightly as you pushed down the intense feelings threatening to overflow again. 

The window opened and you could hear her voice on the wind that whipped around your face. 

Keep Going.  

That’s what you did. Death be dammed you’d made a deal with God to sacrifice and survive for these boys and that’s what you would do. 

With a cracking heart you closed the window and looked around the kitchen at the boy's stunned faces. 

“Please tell me you heard that as well right?” Charlie said with wide eyes. 

______________________________________________________________

One dinner down a lifetime left to go. 

The weeks turned into a month and the pain did not relent. You had no moments of peace only the love felt by shared grieving. Esme was always around now. All the kids lumped together in Arrow House like the days of the Changretta feud. She made sure your hair got brushed and your outfits matched. 

Arthur came around every day. He kept Tommy together while they worked out all this conflict. He feels a war is coming and you couldn't imagine it could be anything worse than the one raging in your mind. Alfie stops by and tells you things that confirm it will be much worse. 

Three boys, and a war. 

You put your make-up on so you have a reason not to cry during the day. 

You spend every evening with Tommy. You know what he is doing is important. It could change the outcome for the rest of the families on the planet. So you sacrifice your time with him and survive on the couch reading. When really you just stare into the fire wishing everything would burn up to be reborn as something new. 

Three boys and one more undetermined in your stomach. Your hand rested there often. You expected to lose the baby so you didn't really think about it. If they did come into this world you prayed it would be before Tommy passed. Grieving with a baby in your stomach would be easier than grieving with a newborn. But you wanted them to meet their father, even if it was for a fleeting moment. You would suffer and survive. 

Tommy finally got over himself and got a second opinion. He hated doctors and you expected him to be in a foul mood when he got back from a series of appointments in London. Alfie accompanied him back and you placed a plate of biscuits and cups of tea on the kitchen table. The kitchen was for family, but Alfie somehow managed to get an invitation out of Tommy. You were always happy to see him, but were wary of the news he often brought these days. You took a seat and he grabbed your hand and held it.  Your mind flashed back to the good old days when something so small would have sent Tommy after him in a rage. 

Alfie knew better than to ask how you were keeping. Tommy finally sat down at the head of the table, he looked pale. Too pale to drive, which explains why Alfie had come back with him. 

“I’m not sick.” His eyes closed and he leaned back against the chair. 

“What?” You whispered. 

“The f-uck-ing doctor was working for that stupid mustache piece of shit,” Alfie said his voice was venomous but his smile was unshakeable. 

“You're not going to die.” Your eyes moved to Tommy and he shook his head.  

“Going to have to wait a while longer to steal you away, love.” Alfie's voice was all humor now, but he knew it was time to let go of your hand when Tommy flashed him a look. The look of the old Tommy. 

“I’m pregnant.” You blurted out. 

“Looks like I dodged a bullet. Last thing I wanted to be raising up another little Shelby brat.” Alfie was laughing and Tommy smiled. A genuine smile. 

You were happy, and then the brutal deafening sadness crashed down on you. The sheer panic of having a child hits again and the nausea has you throwing your head back in the sink. Tommy is there pulling your hair up. 

“Like she would ever go for you,” Tommy said easily taking a sip of tea.

“Shit,” Alfie says from the counter near you. He gets a glass for Tommy to fill with water. 

____________________________________________________________

You told Esme and you both held on to each other as you cried. 

“I never thought I would say this but thank God Tommy will be alright.” She shook her head as the words strangled her. “You’ll never have to know what it’s like to raise em up with out their father.” 

You both cried on the kitchen floor for a long while. 

_________________________________________

The time came and you had high blood pressure meaning you had to do things in the hospital. Something that made everything a thousand times more painful. But that was your baby, and you would sacrifice and they would survive. 

They kept trying to medicate you and Esme kept throwing nurses out of the room screaming at them in Romani when English wasn't scary enough. In the thick of it you kept crying out for Polly. 

You didn't want these strangers to help you. They didn't care about you or your baby. They weren't family. Arthur came and spoke to Esme in the doorway for a moment. You expected news that Tommy wouldn't make it in time or that something worse had happened. 

Instead, Esme handed you one of Polly’s rosaries to hold. You gripped the cold crystal beads and felt yourself split apart over all the reasons you were crying. 

Tommy showed up and commanded the room with Esme. The window blew open letting cold air around the room and you could feel her love for you. 

You gave birth to a little girl. 

There were no pictures taken as you bawled. You got her latched on to your breast and cried and cried. The nurses kept pushing for sedation but Esme started at them and Tommy pointed towards the door. Arthur came in and read a passage from his bible for you. You're not sure why exactly but it helped. It felt like a blessing that this baby would be alright. 

_______________________________________________

You brought her home the same night, itching to get out of the hospital. You carried her in and watched all your boys get excited. You handed her off to Charlie first. 

“I love it when they look like grumpy old men,” Jamie said with a smile, Teddie let out a loud laugh. 

“She does look like an old man.” 

“What did you name her?” Charlie asked his finger tracing down the slope of her nose. 

“Rose Elizabeth,” Tommy said sitting next to him placing his arm around his eldest son. 

“Posy then,” Charlie said with a sense of finality. 

Charlie, Jamie, Teddie, and Posy. Your heart was happy and sad at the same time. 

Jamie came round and put his arm around you. 

“Love you mum.” He whispered and you wondered when he got old enough to kiss the top of your head. The boys were strong like their father, and you had no doubts they were strong enough to carry you and Posy.

_______________________________________________________________

This chunk of time was easier than it was with the other four kids. Tommy took time off. Churchill had other moves he wanted to play and for now, Tommy wasn’t involved. 

He’d sit while you breastfed in the night, he’d change nappies, and read stories. You watched him be a girl dad again and the pain was harsh and beautiful at the same time. 

Esme helped you take down Ruby’s room. The idea of moving one of the boys to a different floor or wing of the house made your skin itch. Ruby’s room needed to be emptied. 

You aired the room out and you knew that she would be happy about giving it to her sister. Esme assured you at every turn that she wouldn't be angry at you. 

_______________________

Eventually Arrow House moved on. Posy was very attached to the idea she had both an Aunt and a sister in the sky watching over her. 

The war came and what was left of the family did what they had to do. Thankfully Posy was there with you so you were never alone.

Thankfully when it was all over all your boys came home to you.

[shinjisdone]

Request prompt: MC just being really happy they have a boyfriend (it's their first) and is super happy around said new boyfriend Rook <3

Rook being your first boyfriend and you being very happy about it :)

Never did you think you'd find this kind of happiness in Twisted Wonderland.

As nerve-wrecking as NRC, the students and these mysterious overblots are, you cannot help but hum and swing like a character in a fairytale.

For your beloved Romeo is in this very same school, is one of the very students attending here.

The attention, the abundance of nicknames he comes up with...the smile that he harbors for you that is much different than his usual zealous ones. Rook is wonderful.

You remember it clearly. As the one and only Rook Hunt seemed to catch your attention again and again. Many find his character odd at best and off-putting at worst but you have always found him charming, and it seemed like he was aware of it :).

He'd give you compliments, recite his poems to hear your opinion and tell you all that he found beautiful, what beauty he found in all every-day things.

And then, he invited you to the garden and confessed to you with a grande poem before beckoning you with an anonymous letter sent by an arrow, of course.

You accepted very happily. What others found 'extra', you found charming. What was called 'unneccessary' you saw as passionate. And Rook loved you for it.

You can't help but gush of his surprise visits - of how he'd announce his presence with a rose, a gentle 'booh!' or an arrow almost hitting you with a gift wrapped around it.

Rook never seems to get bored by his overly romantic antics for he knows how much joy they give you. He lives for your rosy cheeks and your goofy smile.

Ah~ And what a lovely rosy-posy crimson gracing your features! And your shiny white pearls peeking through your lips! The laughter and the giggles are an unique melody that hits his ears. A hymn that is composed all for him.

Ah, bien-aimé, how can he not fall for you again and again? Appearing like this is like playing pretend - falling at first sight each and every day.

Being with you is a fairytale! Très bien!

Will go all out on each day, on each lesson and whenever else you two see each other. Seeing you be so happy motivates Rook and he simply indulges in the overly romantic actions he can do for you and the romantic tension he can create just for you.

Calls you his beloved and muse. At times he just likes to take walks with you and intensely observes you in all of your glory. Anything you do will bring in a new poem into his head. He will even gift you things, ask specific things just to see your reaction. Anything you do intruiges him and brings him new inspiration! Truly, you are a muse!

As much as he calls anything and everything beautiful, Rook is surprisingly scarce when calling you beautiful - but only because he carefully crafts his intentions. He wants to say these things in a way that has you know how utterly sincere and genuine he is. You are simply a special kind of beauty. Something that even Rook struggles to put into words.

Like a rose...a lone star shining...a shape a shadow casts...you are all of it. The happiness you radiate...it is too special to be put into words, let alone a poem.

And knowing you are so happy because of him...of how he is your first boyfriend and is able to give you so much joy...it fills him with pride.

Rook will do everything in his power to keep you shining with happiness forevermore.

Hope this was okay! the ask was quite general so I took the freedom to put it into headcanons forms :)

[jades-typurriter]

Cache Clearing

A piece I did in a bit of a frenzy after working with (you guessed it) Bowsiosaurus on the design for a new OC: meet Posie!! The thought process here was literally, like, no sooner than we decided on "make a Renamon" i was like "hey what if she ate a bunch of data", so, I hope you enjoy it as much as she seemed to =^w^=

CW: Weight gain, tummy/breast expansion, stern office woman is so full from Information yum

A tall, stately fox moved down the drab, linoleum-and-drop-tile maintenance corridor with the same grace, the same level and unerring gait, that one of her four-legged, flesh-and-bone counterparts might display while stalking prey through the underbrush. Though her feet ended in points, modeled as a smooth taper from her knee to a single vertex apiece, the clack of high heels echoed down the empty hallway with each step. Her purpose was singular, and her focus undivided.

She was a Renamon who had adapted to a digital landscape that was as predictable as it was unforgiving; while her predecessors were more suited to the wild west of the adolescent internet, all the precision and discipline that they dedicated to roughhousing instead allowed her to operate within the razor-thin margins of error of the corporate world. She kept things running, and that was exactly what she made her way to the server room to do now.

She waved a paw over the electronic lock on the door, an uncannily smooth, mechanical motion, made with the other paw primly held behind her ramrod-straight back. It was a far cry from the jerky, stiff displays one might expect from a physical construct, though the knob turned under her touch as though she was solid as steel. As it swung closed behind her, she approached the subject of her attention for her next task: server rack B-0, a cabinet of solid-state drives stacked even higher than she was, each loaded to the brim with trade secrets, proprietary information, logs of confidential exchanges, schematics, financial records. All of it was outdated. She had been sent by the management to ensure that it was properly deleted.

Her lip curled into a sneer at the thought. Data disposal was so… undignified. It was beneath a woman of her stature. She had thoroughly demonstrated her particular capabilities: the multitasking necessary direct intra-system traffic in real time, reducing latency; her knack for optimizing data for the most efficient storage; she had even taken the initiative to create financial projections from the figures under her care. And still they expected her to perform a task so crude that any program picked up on a shovelware site could handle it without complication! She huffed, her eyes narrowed into her typical glare, as though she wished she could melt the damned server with the infrared beams she would otherwise use to communicate with it.

Nonetheless, there was no use putting it off any longer. The 2.6 seconds she had spent ruminating could have been better spent elsewhere, and she would be remiss to waste even more time. She was the Renamon assigned to maintaining the integrity of the company’s data center, and she would not shirk that duty, no matter how uncouth it was. She unlatched the wire-mesh cabinet door, reached into the rack, and removed the first drive in the array with a soft k-chk.

Closing her eyes and bracing herself with a deep breath, she brought the disk to her snout, opened her mouth, and moved as though to take a bite out of it. Her pointed, polygonal teeth passed harmlessly through the metal, phasing as she could through any of the other surfaces in the building (though she made a point of logging her activities by using her credentials at doors, like any other employee). The data on the two plates within, however, were far from unscathed—bits parted like the muscle fibers in a succulent cut of steak, zeroed out as she pulled the drive from between her lips, swallowing the information once contained within.

She let out an almost-gasp—Pahhh!—like she was trying not to gag. It wasn’t that the data were unpalatable. Far from it; she could, begrudgingly, understand why her wild cousins were so apt to chew through any unsecured files they could get their paws on. It was the task itself that was distasteful: this was only the first bite of the first drive in the entire rack! She resented that her superiors seemed to think of her as a bottomless recycle bin. Besides, work of this nature came up rather infrequently. Reacclimating herself to the sensation of eating was always a touch uncomfortable.

She powered through regardless, knowing the feeling would settle as she got further underway. She brought the drive back up to her face, taking another bite further into the plate, as though she was gnawing off segments of a particularly thick chocolate bar; with her other paw, she disengaged another drive from the rack. She nibbled off the last morsel of data from the first drive and brought the second immediately to her maw; it was… more efficient to do it that way. As fast as possible. The sooner she could get all these units formatted, the better, of course.

Replacing the first, now-empty drive, she replaced it in its slot and reached for a third as she chewed on the second. On and on she went, paws working in perfect unison to maintain an unbroken chain of drives to deplete; she might have compared herself to a juggler if her cheeks weren’t already burning from the indignity. Electrons slid down her tongue—her mouth was watering more than she cared to acknowledge—and down the back of her throat. Bite. Swallow. Bite. Swallow. Replace. Switch. Bite. Swallow. Bite.

Her pace only increased as she continued. Of course it would. A computer performs better after it’s had time to warm up, after all. And, of course, she simply wanted this to be done and over with as quickly as possible. It was a mercy that she didn’t need to pay any mind to her volume controls, as far away from any other personnel as the data center was. Not that she was paying attention anyway, fully-focused on completing her task as she was. Nobody—not even herself—would notice the muffled mmphs and nnffs she made as she pressed on.

All the data on the disks had to go somewhere, and it was at this point in the process that that tended to become apparent. Beneath the fur on her chest, meticulously brushed and fastidiously fluffed, her breasts became gradually more prominent. At first, the tuft was enough to mostly obscure them—after all, so what if she seemed slightly fluffier that day?—but was soon outpaced. Electrical charges by the millions, now unmoored from their tidy array inside the drives, now sloshed into her, taking up more and more of her own storage space. In short order, the fluff was scarcely enough to cover just her cleavage.

One third of the way through the server rack, now. Still, her pace only increased, one drive in each paw.

Her thighs were already rather prodigious. They were the majority of her curves, under normal circumstances, and she took some pride in the matronly figure that she cut as a result. Now, they pressed closer and closer together beneath the skirt of fur that she sported, the conical abstractions of her lower extremities widening bite by bite (and byte by byte). They pressed further and further outward, straining the “garment” itself, pushing the hem further and further up along her legs; the circular patterns on her hips, reminiscent of loading symbols, became distorted, stretched. She would have thought it was a crude change, not unlike resizing an image file with improper scaling—if she were capable of focusing on anything other than the gigabytes upon gigabytes she was so doggedly downloading.

Well over halfway now. She was shoving storage into her maw two at a time, with both paws. If she was able to hold more drives at a time, she would have; as a matter of fact, it didn’t stop her from trying.

The largest component of her directory—her midsection—naturally took the brunt of the new load. Slowly, the soft, icy-blue fur of her tummy billowed out, first simply swelling as her stomach filled, then folding onto itself, rolls smushing down on each other under their newfound, still-growing weight. Soon enough, she found herself pressed up against the lower racks of the server, though even in her focused state, she hadn’t realized that she had stepped closer. She hadn’t moved any closer, of course, but she needed to step further back regardless: she found that she was beginning to struggle to bend over, straining against herself to reach the lowest-mounted drives in the array.

Finally, heaving for breath, she extended her paw for another drive and found none remaining that needed to be cleared. She blinked and, once she was more aware of herself, pushed down a sense of disappointment. Instead, she straightened herself (allowing the new mass to settle to a stop after the motion), dusted her skirt, and conjured a good riddance air about herself as she closed the server door once again. She could still find pride in a job well done, even if she was loathe to do the job.

As she stepped out once again into the hallway, ensuring that the door was securely closed—not that there was a single trace remaining of anything sensitive that had been stored there—she folded her hands behind her back and surprised herself with a burp that was most definitely ladylike. One paw flew to her snout as it echoed down the hallway, both in shock and to hide the near-glow of her cheeks. She glanced in either direction: mercifully, still vacant. Her shoulders slumped in relief, one of the rare occasions on which she relaxed her posture. Thankfully, nobody but her would know that she’d had to do one of her dirtier jobs today. She set off back the way she had came, her footsteps now playing at maximum volume—not even a clack anymore as much as a clomp.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it =^w^= If you'd like to see more of my writing, have a look here and here!

[sunshinies]

⋆✩ Nahida inspired names/pronouns/titles ! 𖦹

art is official! rq by @brazils-garden

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

🌱 names: acacia , aisling , breezy , briar , chloris , cloverly , elara , elodie , euphemia , fable , fern , fiora , fleurie , flora , gracie , gwendolyn , hana , hattie , haven , hope , ivy , jade , kelly , lottie , maisie , meadow , mimi , minnie , mossie , nadia , naida , nana , nerida , nia , pandora , petal , petunia , pippa , pixie , poppy , posie , rhiannon , sage , sadie , saffron , sorrel , sprout , sunny , tamsin , thalia , verena , verity , viridian , yara

🌿 pronouns: sprout/sprouts/sproutself , dendro/dendros/dendroself , wise/wises/wiseself , god/gods/godself , joy/joys/joyself , herb/herbs/herbself , leaf/leaf/leafself , sun/suns/sunself , sage/sages/sageself , viri/viris/viriself , vivi/vivis/vividself , smile/smiles/smileself , fern/fern/fernself

any other variation pronouns of these may be used , of course !

🪴 titles: the goddess of verdant wisdom , the lesser lord of sumeru , she who was borne of irminsul , she who lies in the cradle of dreams , she who meditates on love , the goddess of insightful dreams , she who embodies nature's love , her verdant vision, her innocent insight , she who guides with grace

prns and gendered terms may be replaced.

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[thetudorslovers]

"The pageants that greeted Anne as she processed through the City to her coronation included three with neoclassical themes. The first of these, at “gracious churche corner” – the turn from Fenchurch Street into Gracechurch Street – showed “mounte pernasus with the founteyne of helicon.” Figures of Apollo and the Muses were accompanied by epigrams and posies written in gold at their feet, praising Anne. The pageant was provided by the merchants of the Hanse, the resident community of North German merchants, and was almost certainly designed by Hans Holbein. The second neoclassical pageant, at the Conduit in Cornhill, showed the Three Graces; while the third, at the Little Conduit in Cheapside, depicted the Judgement of Paris. Other pageants continued the medieval tradition of identifying a queen consort with the Virgin Mary and other biblical heroines and saints; part of their function, in the wake of the King’s divorce, the schism from Rome, and extensive political upheaval, was to assert continuities with the past. However at the same time the introduction of neoclassicism was a significant innovation, identifying Anne’s elevation with the creation of a new, independent England requiring a new language of symbolism." - Anne Boleyn’s legacy to Elizabeth I: Neoclassicism and the iconography of Protestant Queenship, Helen Hackett

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

Chaeri's Masterlist

ATTENTION: 'MY NAME' DRAMA SPOILER AHEAD

Web article

Why you shouldn't miss 'My Name', the series starring the kick-ass girl of the year

Revenge is woman

My Name is one of those realistic, down-to-earth, tough stories. Tough as hell. Premiering at the Busan International Film Festival in South Korea, it is a crime thriller directed by Kim Jin-min, director of 2004's Pride and Prejudice, and starring Chaeri of BTS. It is a story of pure revenge, but veered to the female side, with a very young girl at the center. My Name is an adrenaline-fueled, violent series that is a pleasure to follow.

"It's the least for a gangster's daughter." That's what Ji-woo Yoon (Chaeri) says after beating the crap out of a schoolmate who was bullying her. On her desk, in fact, she had put a bag with something that looked like cocaine in it, for the purpose of teasing her or, who knows, getting her called out of school. Ji-woo's reaction is violent, and without mercy. Soon after, when she is in her apartment, she receives a visit from her father, who has brought her a present for her birthday. But she, who does not accept his choice to be a criminal, refuses to see him and doesn't open the door for him. In the hallway, in front of that closed door, the man is murdered. The girl's guilt-ridden mission will be to find who killed him. Whatever it takes.

My Name rests entirely on the shoulders of the very young Chaeri and to her performance. She makes her acting debut embodying a role very different from what fans are used to seeing of her on stage. Unlike many equally young and pretty female colleagues who have chosen a career path propped up with sugary roles in sappy rom-coms, Chaeri opted to take on a far more uncomfortable role for her screen debut. Petite, her face graceful and sweet, she proves to be an actress who can bring to life the contrast between the delicacy of her age and status as a high school student, with the world she faces, and with the very characteristics of a tireless and indomitable fighter she manages to pull off. In the first scenes of the series we saw her getting ready for school, neat and elegant. All this before the surprising explosion of violence we witness at her school. And it is only the prologue to an endless spiral of violence. The action of My Name is tight, rhythmic, not giving a moment's respite. The protagonist moves to the rhythm of the beats of cold, pressing electronic music.

We see her juggling a noir-tinged story in which the very young Yoon Ji-woo must move not only deftly but also intelligently between two opposing organizations: the police organization, particularly Narcotics, and the gang of the mellifluous boss Choi Mu-jin, the best friend of Ji-woo's late parent. Hidden among them is the killer of the girl's father, and the search for the truth is as exciting as the bloody showdown.

"My Name" breaks free from the constraints of traditional Korean TV censorship, providing a platform for explicit depictions of violence, sex, and the exploration of intense emotions like love and hate. As a Netflix original production, the series offers a refreshing and unfiltered viewing experience. Since its debut on October 15, 2021, "My Name" has captivated audiences with its gripping storyline and Chaeri's remarkable acting debut.

The controversial themes and many parents' reaction to the TV series' debut trailer

Blog: Parenting teenagers

User_1: I just read the news that Chaeri is going to act in a TV series with highly debatable themes. I'm really concerned about my son, who is a huge fan of hers. How can we ensure that our children aren't negatively influenced by this kind of content?

User_2: I'm disappointed that an artist like Chaeri has decided to participate in a series with such themes. As parents, we need to protect our children from these harmful influences. We should encourage greater scrutiny of the artists they follow and promote more positive and age-appropriate content.

User_3: This is just an example of how our young ones are exposed to inappropriate content because of the choices made by the artists they follow. As parents, we need to be mindful and educate our children about the negative effects of such content. It's essential that we seek healthier alternatives for them.

User_4: Have you heard about Chaeri's upcoming role in that TV series? I can't believe she's choosing to be a part of something so inappropriate for her young fanbase. It's really disappointing.

User_5: I agree completely. As parents, we should expect better from these idols who have such a significant influence on our children. It's a shame that Chaeri is going down this path.

User_6: I've already had to have some difficult conversations with my daughter about the content in K-pop. Now, with Chaeri taking on such a controversial role, it's going to be even harder to guide our kids through these complex issues.

Related Tweets

Some highlights from the show

Dating Rumors

Web article

Explosion of Speculations: Chaeri and Ahn Bo-Hyun, the Chemistry Behind the Scenes of 'My Name' Sparks Possible Dating Rumor

The Hit TV Series Fuels Rumors of Off-Screen Romance

Amidst the excitement generated by the TV series "My Name," which has captivated millions of viewers worldwide, a new wave of gossip is spreading regarding the possible relationship between the lead actors Chaeri and Ahn Bo-Hyun. Eager fans can't help but wonder if the intense chemistry displayed on-screen has translated into a real-life spark.

The rumors gained momentum after the two actors showcased undeniable affinity in their roles as Ji-woo and Pil-do on the Netflix series. Their characters were involved in intimate and emotionally charged scenes that piqued the interest and enthusiasm of viewers.

While many viewers were simply swept away by the actors' magnificent performances, others couldn't help but notice the chemistry that seemed to extend beyond acting. The palpable energy between Chaeri and Ahn Bo-Hyun has sparked speculation that there might be more than just friendship between them.

Sources close to the set of "My Name" have revealed that Chaeri and Ahn Bo-Hyun have become very close friends during filming. Their mutual admiration and respect seem to have transcended the set, laying the foundation for a possible romantic connection.

However, it's important to note that both actors have yet to make any official statements regarding their alleged romantic involvement. Media attention on them has significantly increased, but until concrete statements are made, their relationship will remain subject to speculation.

Regardless, fans of "My Name" don't seem too concerned about the truth behind the rumors. Both Chaeri and Ahn Bo-Hyun have proven themselves as talented professionals capable of creating an extraordinary chemistry on-screen. Whether their rapport is a result of a solid friendship or something more, the legacy of "My Name" will remain in the hearts of fans for a long time.

The anticipation for an official statement from the two actors continues as viewers continue to dream of a possible love story that can bring the intensity of Ji-woo and Pil-do into reality. Only time will tell if these hopes will turn into reality or remain a dream for fans fascinated by this dynamic duo.

Web article

Chaeri and Ahn Bo-Hyun Address Dating Rumors, Confirm They're Just Friends

The stars of "My Name," Chaeri and Ahn Bo-Hyun, have officially denied the recent dating rumors surrounding their relationship. In separate statements, both actors emphasized that they are only close friends and colleagues. They expressed gratitude for the support from fans and emphasized their commitment to their professional careers. The statements aim to put an end to the speculation and redirect attention to the success of "My Name" and their future projects. Fans can now appreciate their on-screen chemistry without romantic implications, respecting the actors' personal lives.

Unhappy male fans

Twitter: Search results on #MyName

💭 chaeribemywife: I'm happy for Chaeri's success in 'My Name,' but those intimate scenes with Ahn Bo-Hyun are making me feel a bit jealous 😅

💭 fanboy11: I understand it's acting, but seeing Chaeri and Ahn Bo-Hyun's steamy scenes in 'My Name' is really testing my emotions!

💭 chaeri1stan: Seriously, can't they tone down the intimacy between Chaeri and Ahn Bo-Hyun in 'My Name'? It's making it hard to watch

💭 chaerislips: The chemistry between Chaeri and Ahn Bo-Hyun is so intense that I can't help but feel slightly jealous of their kissing in 'My Name.' I hope they are just acting

💭 notdelulufan: Wow, I have to admit that being Ahn Bo-Hyun and having a scene with Chaeri where she's undressed in 'My Name' is a dream! A bit of male jealousy here

What BTS think of Chaeri in the lead role of My Name, interview extracts

Suga: Chaeri has proven to be an all-around artist, her versatility in moving from a world that was strictly about music to the world of film and TV series is impressive. She has handled the complex role she has been given managing to convey genuine emotions. She has given life to an extraordinary character. We are very proud of her

Jin: She surprised us by auditioning without letting us know. When she returned home with a carrot cake, her favorite, she exclaimed, 'Guys, today calls for a celebration!' It caught us off guard. We were aware of her acting lessons but hadn't anticipated her involvement in such a significant project. From the first day of filming until the very end, we wholeheartedly cheered her on

Suga: I've been on set many times

V: I've been on set as well. I have brought her lunch more than once and stayed to watch the scenes being filmed

Jimin: As part of the BTS family, we have always stood together, supporting each other's dreams and aspirations. It brings us immense joy to witness Chaeri's artistic evolution and the milestones she reaches. Every success she achieves feels like a shared victory for all of us

RM: To be frank, when she shared the details and genre of the show she was going to be a part of, I couldn't help but ask if she felt ready to make her debut as an actress in such a demanding role. The first impression is crucial, as it can shape an artist's future prospects, and I was worried that the role might be too overwhelming. However, she proved me wrong, and she amazed everyone. I suppose I will always have a sense of concern for her, just like when she was 14 years old. It's a part of me that I can't shake off. Nevertheless, I have to acknowledge and accept that she has blossomed into a strong, beautiful and independent woman

J-Hope: She's the youngest in the family, and it's tough to see her all grown up

J-Hope: A significant buzz has emerged online surrounding her involvement in this show. However, I strongly believe that she deserves nothing but admiration. Despite it being her debut, she has demonstrated remarkable artistic skills. My Name is the type of TV series that I would gladly watch repeatedly, to the point of memorizing every scene. Chaeri's performance was nothing short of perfection

Jungkook: Her dedication serves as an inspiration to all. We were a bit worried at first. Our busy schedules consume a major part of our day and she would sacrifice hours of sleep to become the leading actress everyone expected. I witnessed her taking boxing lessons, filming scenes at improbable hours, and studying the script even while eating. She is a hard worker, and all her efforts have paid off

V: There are no adequate words to express how proud I am of her. She knew that joining the cast would unsettle some people, yet she pursued it because it was what she wanted. As idols, we have a responsibility to set a good example for our followers, that's true. However, it's important to remember that movies and TV series are purely fictional and go beyond our role as role models. I have always supported her in every decision, and I have cherished every minute of 'My Name'

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr | @bts-dream | @ycuvi

[candylandphotos]

Beautiful girl with flowers in hand

"Blooming in beauty: A beautiful girl with flowers in hand."

[capn-twitchery]

i stupidly left grace with 0 notability after getting to POSI 2 and slowcakes isn't showing up for either of my accounts,,,

if that little bastard doesn't show up before i get time the healer in the next 7 hours, then i'm marrying twitch & grace's accounts just for the extra notability point i am IMPATIENT

[thedeal-if]

If it’s not too spoilery can I ask how the Ro’s would act if they were jealous? Like maybe the think the mc likes someone else. (I really liked your writing btw)

Ah thanks seriously😭 And dw I don't think it's spoilery at all!

Lol hive mind. Very convenient because as I was writing the original drabbles I really didn't like how they were coming out 😭 Ty for providing an actual scenario anon

The two of you are finally allowed a moment of tranquillity, just a moment is all you ask of lately, and it has finally been granted. You deserve it, you all do. A walk in the park is just what you need, and one of your companions is kind enough to grace you with their beloved presence.

When the unknown person approaches you it is definitely a surprise. There’s something hidden behind their back. They catch your eye, shoot a wide smile your way and reveal to you what’s in their hands: a delicate bouquet, pale pink tulips, white sweet peas and roses, and lavender posies. It reminds you of the softness of spring.

“These are for you,” the person says cheerfully. They fiddle with their hands, a crimson blush overcoming their complexion “I just— I thought you were gorgeous and I wanted you to have them.”

Dante doesn't usually get jealous. He's very free-spirited and feels like being jealous would be a little like trapping himself in a hole he can't escape. Oh, but if Dante does feel jealousy then it's a wildfire fire. He's always lived his emotions quite intensely. From his pov, everything is like a rollercoaster. Everything is too much, too quickly, and it's too awful. From MC's pov, they would notice Dante is sulky and a little quicker to snap. Anger is his main defence mechanism. Dante would also get very overprotective, directing this rage at whoever he thought MC liked. Lol I can't help but see Nathan being a dick about it but I'll hold back from adding him to the drabble.

Your eyes reflect your amusement, and maybe that’s the main reason Dante scoffs as loudly as he does. He stands next to you, petrified like he’s made of ice. But he definitely isn’t. Dante is close enough for you to feel the way his body temperature rises drastically.

“Scu—” Dante bites his tongue and swallows the Italian word before it spills. When he switches back to English, his words carry a certain force “Fucking pardon?”

The person who handed you the bouquet, visibly flustered, lifts both hands as if to placate Dante’s anger. It doesn’t work, it never does. If he’s a fire, any attempt to mollify him is a fan.

“Calm down. It was just a compliment, man,” the person laughs nervously “I didn’t know.”

“Dante,” you say before he can yell at them. The way he whips his head in your direction reminds you a little of a puppy expecting to be scolded.

You give Dante a look that says more than words ever could. It is also loud enough for him to hear beyond the haze of rage, and Dante sighs. Under his breath, he counts to ten in Italian—he only reaches number six before giving up and waving a hand in the stranger’s direction.

“Screw off, human,” Dante scoffs at them.

He eyes the bouquet like it has personally offended him—knowing him, it has. Dante holds his hands out, you hand it to him almost on autopilot. The Aeshma takes a step back, and you watch as he sets the flowers ablaze with the palms of his hands. That’s the moment the stranger decides to run.

---

With the way Lilith has lived and the relationships they've had, jealousy was something they haven’t really felt. Ever. It's a little complicated and I think it's more fun if I don't explain and you all see for yourselves ^^. If she thought MC liked someone else Lilith would definitely feel upset though. But not too openly, more like a silent resignation. Lilith is very self-conscious she tends to overthink. So she'd definitely overthink the entire situation, though she'd never openly complain or vent to anyone. Actually, she'd be quite supportive of MC making a move on the third person.

There’s a faint snorting sound next to you, Lilith startles you with her sudden huff, a surprising sound that is maybe a little too mean, especially given the fact that this is Lilith laughing, and she’s probably the kindest—not person—creature you know. Her abrupt snort quickly dissolves into an amused chuckle, and it confuses even the stranger.

Lilith smiles sweetly at them. It almost seems innocent, the way her eyes crinkle. But you know her.

“No flowers for me?” Lilith muses with a fake pout. Your eyes flutter towards her big red rose earrings. Being put in the spot like that would embarrass anyone, and the stranger is no exception.

They flush but are unable to say anything before Lilith speaks again

“I’m kidding, of course. [Name] really is lovely, right?” she asks in a whisper, cocking her head towards you. As if you can’t hear her “The flowers are so pretty too! That’s so sweet. Right, love?”

One of your eyebrows rises at her antics, “Yeah, they are,” you admit.

Lilith sends a brief smirk your way. The stranger nods their thanks, red-faced.

“I’d have chosen a... hotter pink, though,” she says, her voice low, it has a faint reverberation that ties around her cadence like ribbons. Only you can hear Lilith's words.

You’d be blind not to see that, despite her nonchalance, Lilith’s very heated tone and her eyes full of affection are saved only for you to hear and see.

---

I gave Josh the sin of envy for a reason lol. When it comes to people, he never does things halfway, if he really likes someone he likes them all the way (it's kinda the same with his friendships). Josh is kinda low-key the same with all his relationships: when he sees the person he likes with someone else he starts to seriously question his own self-worth. Much like Lilith he would never complain or vent. Josh is a person who prefers to deal with his own problems and insecurities himself, even if he doesn't really know how to cope with them healthily sometimes. He'd also be quite supportive while he's dying inside.

Josh gazes over the flowers with clear interest, a look that seems entirely out of place when you see just how stiff his posture is, and how tightly he’s gritting his teeth. You’re pretty familiar with his ticks and quirks after being friends for so many years, but this new reaction of Josh’s is new, strange and, frankly, quite thrilling. You didn’t think he’d be the type to be jealous.

“Thank you,” you tell the stranger politely. Josh echoes your words absentmindedly, like an afterthought. Like a child whose mother just ordered food at a restaurant.

He snaps back out of it quickly and smiles at the stranger.

“They are very pretty,” Josh nods “The flowers, I mean.”

The stranger tilts their head his way, but it’s you to whom they give a knowing look. It’s only once they’re gone that Josh speaks again.

“I didn’t know you liked flowers!” he says all too tightly. Focusing on the nice things and dealing with the big elephant in the room—his very obvious discomfort—is just such a Josh thing to do.

“It’s nice, y’know. Getting flowers.”

“Yeah,” Josh mumbles. He swallows and offers a tentative smile—too coy to be accidental, “I promise that the ones I’ll get you won’t look like you’re about to do a bouquet toss.”

Josh and future tenses—you know it’s a promise and not an empty hypothesis.

---

Villanelle has one philosophy and one philosophy alone: if she ignores a problem it doesn't exist anymore. Sure she likes MC but it doesn't mean she has to like them forever (is what Villanelle tells herself when she starts to feel jealous). Villanelle believes that bad feelings can be willed away if she thinks positively and manifests an optimistic outcome. Would probably do a 1000 tarot readings to sort out her thoughts. (It doesn't really work most of the time, she still overthinks like crazy).

Villanelle releases a loud gasp before you can react, she leans forward to get a better look. You know the witch has a very intense passion towards flowers—plants in general, Villanelle gets fiercely defensive when you mix the two up—, so it’s not that strange for her to be more excited than you.

“Thanks,” you tell the stranger. Villanelle gushes over the pretty shade of lavender.

The stranger appears amused by the witch’s shameless elation. They promptly ignore her in favour of offering you a suggestive smile.

“No need, it’s my pleasure.”

The bundle of energy next to you appears to have found a way to quiet her restlessness. Villanelle has frozen a little, frowning at one of the roses. Her thoughts seem to have a mind of their own, and you fear that Villanelle is either having a vision or glaring at a nasty bug. You don’t know which one you hope for.

“Villie?”

“Oh?” she blinks and smiles at you “I’m peachy, don’t worry.”

She must be as peachy as she claims. Villanelle turns around and busies herself while you say your goodbyes to the stranger, thanking them again for the flowers. By the time Villanelle returns to your side, she’s holding two common daisies in each of her hands.

When your eyes land on her you can tell she’s blushing.

“I…”

Villanelle clears her throat, tries again.

“I give you flowers so often it feels weird not to collaborate on this one,” she explains earnestly. A frown interrupts her honest expression “Is that strange?”

“No. No, it isn’t.”

Villanelle grins widely, “Ah, good!”

One of the daisies joins the bouquet. The other, (you have to lean down for her to place/) she places behind your ear.

---

It'd be hard to notice Victor is upset because his disposition seems serious and neutral all the time lol. Victor would definitely be the kind of person to be jealous and feel mad at everything when he's jealous. He wouldn't logically understand why he's feeling that way, he wouldn't be able to find a rational explanation and that would be so frustrating to him. It'd drive him mad. But Victor wants and he wants very badly despite himself. Rather than lashing out, though, he'd be much more prone to brooding. Probably would glare a lot at the person he thought MC liked.

The stranger and you establish what is originally meant—at least on your part—to be a polite conversation. You thank them for the flowers, compliment the bouquet’s colors. One thing leads to another and now the stranger is telling you about themselves, flirting skittishly and telling you about themselves. In all honesty, you have no clue as to why they might feel so encouraged. You know you wouldn’t be the same way if Victor glared at you the same way he’s glaring at them.

An irritated Victor—genuinely irritated—is a sight you know like the back of your hand. Hands that hold the bouquet he briefly glares at, too. Victor is angsty.

“Let’s go, Warner,” he says suddenly. The way he ignores the stranger’s presence is far from accidental.

Said stranger throws their hands up in mock indignation, “Dude, I was talking to them.”

The glare Victor sends them is renewed, more than angry. It seems to be more deathly than a knife to the throat.

“You look like you're trying to explode their head with your mind,” you comment teasingly.

His murderous eyes settle on you, and they soften.

---

Aliyah is always so hard to answer asks for, her mind and life are an entire mess and a half. I think she'd be pretty divided in terms of jealousy? It really depends on her mood and day. Aliyah either can't be bothered to care and convinces herself that she's all that and that she shouldn't waste her time with MC, or she drowns in very self-deprecating thoughts. Most likely, Aliyah wouldn't even dare complain. Though jealousy is annoying, it'd be much scarier if someone realized she felt that way in the first place.

Aliyah’s hatred towards humans originally seemed like a one-time thing. Your kind is the Top 1 in her long ‘Aliyah’s comprehensive list of distasteful things she doesn’t ever want to see or hear from again.’ Though you’re clearly kidding, you wouldn’t be surprised if such a list exists. If it does, it probably has been expanded to include flowers and bouquets.

The flowers in your hand, specifically, appear to be the scum of the Earth—according to Aliyah’s very biased and opinionated mind, at least. She doesn’t say so outright. But the very disgusted grimace on her face can’t mean anything else.

Aliyah shudders, and you think she’s probably remembering the compliment the stranger gave you, “Seriously?”

“Huh?”

“You thought the hu—” Aliyah stops herself, grits her teeth, she seems to drown in some newfound irritation “You thought this idiot here was gorgeous and decided, what? To buy some shitty gas station flowers to prove it?” a loud snort follows, “Don’t make me laugh. That’s just so... pathetic.”

Very flustered, the stranger flounders with their answer.

“Excuse me?”

Aliyah opens her mouth to answer, but she seems to decide not to. With a groan, she crosses her arms defensively, turns towards you with a neutral expression and says, “I’m out of here.”

The Genie walks away, and you pretend not to notice that she waits for you to catch up.

---

Nathan is a gremlin who wants attention 100% of time time. He might feel a little bad here and there if he thinks MC likes someone else but, rather than dwell on those thoughts and emotions, Nathan finds himself doing all he can to get MC's attention. In his mind, he hasn't been rejected and it'd be stupid to assume they can't just change their mind. In the privacy of his mind, Nathan would be surprisingly vulnerable about the entire situation. But if Nathan is known for something, that is barreling head first into situations with little to no thoughts involved. He's definitely not backing down until MC is with someone else, he starts liking someone else, or MC flat-out rejects his advances.

For a—not a person—creature as dramatic as Nathan, he doesn’t give much of a reaction. The angel looks at you, at the flowers, at the stranger, at you again, and then at your hands. You can tell he’s thinking, but you’re not sure you want to know what it is about. Nathan’s ideas... You shudder, remembering the long list of misfortunes that always follow the words ‘Guys, I have an amazing plan!’

But your fate is sealed when Nathan smirks. You lost.

“Hey, mate, where did you get these?” he gets his answer, waves at you and the stranger with a loud “Cheers! Be right back,” and leaves before you can say something.

By the time he returns, you’ve already said goodbye to the stranger. Nathan skips over to you like a little kid, excited to show you something. When you do a double take you notice two things: firstly, Nathan is carrying himself like he’s the embodiment of smugness, like the cat who caught the canary.

Secondly, Nathan is holding a beautiful bouquet of roses colored in an intense indigo—his favourite color—and carnations. He skids to a halt in front of you, half-lidded eyes anchoring on your frame.

“Oh, our new friend left already? Pity,” he sighs. Nathan moves on all too quickly for the sentiment to be sincere “Anyway. These are for you! I thought you were beautiful and I wanted you to have them.”

You snort, “Really?”

“You like my flowers, don’t you?” Nathan smirks, presenting the bouquet to you “You like them much more than theirs. I can tell~”

Your eyes roll fondly. You don’t deny it, though. It’s no use.

---

Eden is very logical and practical but complicated feelings often go way over his head. He wouldn't get jealous, not because he doesn't get jealous, but because he's extremely oblivious about these things. If Eden thought for a second that MC liked someone else he'd probably avoid the feeling (he really hates drama), which might make him come off as cold, or like he's giving MC the cold shoulder. Overall he's the most upset about MC not making any extra time for them, which he quietly sulks about.

Eden is often quiet and only speaks up when he has something absolutely important to say. You don’t think it’s out of character for him to listen silently to you and the stranger.

They are very shameless and flirty at first but revert back to measured politeness once they notice you don’t seem all that interested in them. They say goodbye after a short chat, leaving you behind with the bouquet and an Eden with a small pout and a furrowed brow.

“What’s wrong?” you ask lightly, bumping your shoulder against theirs.

“Hm? Oh. Nothing. It’s dumb,” Eden waves a tired and dismissing hand “It doesn’t matter.”

“Eden…”

He sighs in defeat.

“I don’t know,” he reaches out boldly, takes the flowers from your hands and resumes the walk “Seeing you and them like that. It was really annoying.”

After a brief pause, amused, you ask, “Are you jealous?”

“What? Of course not.”

Eden’s grimace indicates his clear distaste for the topic. It drops too quickly, and he changes the topic before you can question him again.

[ask-sebastian]

Sebastian,

I fear I must take my leave, and on this journey I’m afraid you cannot follow. There is a personal quest I must embark on, and I do not know the time or date of my return. Please, look after Posie for me, and send my apologies to @ask-anne-sallow for leaving so abruptly. You are capable of greatness my friend.

Until we meet again, my friend.

My brother.

-Ominis 🐍🐍

Ominis,

I am utterly bereft and beside myself with grief. We share a rare bond, you and I. The very best of friends. Brothers. In many ways, you are my entire world.

I want nothing more than to leave everything to find you and walk with you side-by-side on your path, but I shall battle that desire every day because I understand. I do not like it. I will never like it, but I understand.

I shall watch over everyone in your stead, knowing full well that I am the poorest substitute for your grace, courage, and light.

No matter what comes, know that with me you will always have a home. Always.

Until we meet again.

--Sebastian

[chambersandfogg]

June 24th, 1922

It was days ago now, but I’m only just recovered from my third annual summer solstice fête. As always, it was a rip roaring success, worth the morning head that followed. Despite the absurd temperance laws in place now, New York has continued to flourish as the place to have a good time and the life of a theater owner and producer has introduced me to all sorts of people.

Actors, writers, musicians, film stars, and, of course, New York’s wealthiest families—those are the people who filled my Long Island home. Even Houdini himself has become a regular attendee, something I delight in. I longed for so many years to be noticed by him for my work as a magician but, despite meeting him a few times, I know I never made any kind of impact. I know this because he can now come to my house and drink my liquor and talk to me of his work without any spark of recognition in his eyes. I am ten years his senior and yet now, for all intents and purposes, twenty years younger. He treats me as such—telling me of his shows and travels, reminiscing about the turn of the century as if I truly was just a boy when we entered the nineteen hundreds.

There is something thrilling in pulling the wool over a great illusionist and skeptic’s eyes. There were some in attendance who should have recognized me as Fogg, but they seem to accept my new name and history with no question. It is a jolly crowd, full of the brightest minds of a generation, but they still see what they want to see. In any case, I am enjoying playing the part of the newly rich Jack Sinclair, even if it means that none of my guests ever truly know who I am.

The one guest who does know me—and the one I was most surprised to see walk into the garden—is Charles Chambers. He has been invited each year and, until now, never graced us with his presence. I don’t know what changed that he decided to come this year, but given the last time we saw each other was at the opening of “Pick a Posy” in the fall, I was pleased he came. As he almost always does, he disappeared into the night after sharing a drink with me at the opening night party and, while we’ve written, he remains as distant and unknowable as ever.

So you can imagine my shock when he agreed to stay the week here on the estate. He’s out walking the grounds as I write and I don’t know what it is he seeks out there, but he’s spent hours outdoors every single day since he arrived. A few other guests lingered for a day or two and the staff is here of course, but as of this morning, the only two occupants of the house are Charles and myself.

I find that I’m oddly nervous in his presence now that he is the only one remaining. I would not have anticipated the urge to entertain the man but, then again, we’ve hardly spent more than a day together since we worked on our World’s Fair act all those decades ago. I have no idea what kind of host he expects me to be or even how long he plans on staying—he said a week but I haven’t heard any noise about his travel plans. I would be happy if he stayed out the month here, perhaps into the Independence Day festivities. But for a man who is so constant and stoic, he has a tendency to be unpredictable.

He appears well. His work debunking the worst charlatans of the world is clearly invigorating and fulfilling him in the way my producing work does for me. It is heartening, that both of us have found new vocations that inspire us. If we are truly to be this way for the rest of time, I have to think it is vitally important that we continue to find endeavors that keep us engaged and occupied. My years of laying about after the war gave me great insight into the sorrow an idle mind can bring.

The rummiest thing happened at the party in fact—Scott and Dorothy, who had never met before but got on like a house on fire, were stacking coupes to pour champagne into when the whole thing came toppling over with a great big crash. And for a moment, I could have sworn that I was back on the front. I clearly had had too much to drink already by that point in the evening, because the whole room around me went foggy and indistinct and the old pain in my leg flared as if I had just received the injury.

I’m grateful that Charles was there. Somehow he intuited that perhaps I’d gotten a tad too sozzled, and he was at my side in a moment, ushering me into the library with the rest of the party none the wiser. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to extricate myself, as in that moment I feared I would collapse. We didn’t speak much when he sat me down in my favorite armchair, but he poured us both a brandy and we sat in peaceful quiet for a while. It really was the strangest thing. I certainly flinch at loud noises here and there—nothing so extreme as shell shock I don’t think—but this was something else entirely. It’s burdened my mind these last few days.

I wonder if it would be worthwhile to speak to Charles about it. While not the most forthcoming man, he is a decently good listener and is, of course, the person on this earth who knows me the best. But there is a strange distance between us that I cannot seem to cross. We spoke a little at the party, and have dined every meal since, but outside of that it feels that he’s avoiding me. Which I cannot fathom, given that he’s chosen to stay.

While theater producing is certainly keeping me occupied for the time being, I suppose, when in doubt, I’ll always have the mystery of Charles Chambers to fall back on as an activity to fill my endless days.

[from the personal diary of J.S. Fogg]

[to read the pre-1917 entries, join Atypical Artists and get access to the archive of 24 entries (5,000+ words), as well as ad-free episodes of Atypical's whole catalogue. to receive future monthly missives straight to your inbox, sign up for free here]