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smaller-comfort · 1 month ago

Note

For the blorbo ask: Let's go with Resh'an and ohhh, give me your thoughts on Sephiroth. As for which questions: 1, 6, 7, 13, 14, and 24.

1. who’s the Blorbo that you’ve never posted about on your blog?

I'm trying to think if there's any secret deep lore blorbo to unlock here, but I do periodically froth at the mouth about the Imperial Radch and Locked Tomb characters that I love. There's the Active Blorbo Roster and then there's all the characters sittin' on the bench in reserve, right?

And there are a lot of those- all the part 5 JJBA kids, Shanks from One Piece, Hakkai from Saiyuki, Mustadio FFTactics.

6. if you could talk to your Blorbo, what would you say to them?

I used to do a lot of 'interview the character' writing exercises when I was younger, but it's not really something that jives with my brain these days. So the boring answer is, I wouldn't say anything. I'm a bad conversationalist.

The *funny* answer- okay, so you remember the era of geocities websites with goofy "under construction" gifs and entire pages dedicated to script-style interactions between the site owner and their favorite characters, right. I had one of those. It was where I posted my multichaptered mary sue self insert oc/Sephiroth fanfic. I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called- no, wait, fuck, the title was "To Shed a Tear" holy shit I wish I hadn't remembered that-the oc was Rufus' sister and a member of the Turks, and look, it was 1998, I had to teach myself html somehow-

Uh. Anyway. So, ultimately, I would probably be apologizing to Sephiroth for all of that, and then maybe just asking for a swift death or something, idk.

I'd have nothing to say to Resh'an because in the ARG he's explicitly stated that he doesn't want to talk about his personal life with the rest of us, and I would attempt tobrespect that boundary. (Really, most of what I might say would probably get me banned from the Sabotage discord.) (I'd probably have to apologize to him for all the fanfic, too. *cough*)

7. what’s the one thing the fandom gets wrong about your Blorbo?

Sephiroth was not involved in some kind of well adjusted five person SOLDIER polycule pileup before the Nibelheim incident. That man has never looked at another human being and experienced a sexual thought in his *life*.

(This does not prevent him from walking Zack on a leash when the occasion calls for it, but like. That's just being a responsible friend. Sometimes Angeal is busy.)

I'm open to a lot of different interpretations of Resh'an right now- the fandom is so small, I'll take whatever I can get and be happy about it, honestly. I'm sure there are people who think *I'm* the one getting him wrong, though, and on some level this idea pleases me in the blackened, contrarian corners of my soul. Sorry, I've taken your mysterious mentor character with a tragic past and turned him into a sopping wet rag with erectile dysfunction. (I'm not that sorry.) (technically it's not ED it's anorgasmia *is shot*)

13. is there any crime, any wrongdoing your Blorbo could commit that would make you stop loving them and remove them from your hyperfixation entirely?

me, sitting on the front porch, sipping a shitty cocktail while watching Meteor about to obliterate the solar system: ...nah.

This kind of gets into like...Doylist/Watsonian characterization, right? The character is just going to do what they're written to do. So is there anything Square Enix could do to make Sephiroth stop being my blorbo? I guess they already did Crisis Core so like...It really doesn't get much worse than that. (I say this, but I haven't finished Rebirth! I am only vaguely aware of the major plot divergence stuff.)

All that said...Squeenix can't take the OG away from me. I'm stuck with the general background radiation of the Compilation, but the things that made me love the game, and the experience of playing it as a child, are always going to be mine. My particular take on Sephiroth exists largely independent of canon and the current fandom at this point.

For Resh'an- let him war criminal even harder! XD

Really, though, I'm steeling myself for inevitable disappointment around his canon backstory and the ultimate resolution of the story. This is not meant to be any shade on Thierry Boulanger's storytelling skills- but being part of the fandom for an ongoing story is always a unique experience, and it tends to leave you with complicated feelings towards the actual conclusion of the story, no matter how good it ends up being.

But if he and Aephorul turn out to be stereotypical anime rivals pre-immortality, I will be *extremely* annoyed (I say, as I write them constantly bickering and antagonizing each other). But I don't think that would even be a deal breaker for me at this point.

14. have you ever distanced yourself from your Blorbo / have you ever left a fandom because people in the fandom were being too toxic?

Maybe back when I was more active in fandom in general? My memory is too fucky to answer this properly, I think; I know there absolutely were people in AC fandom who made me want to eat paint, but I don't think they were why I left. Most of the time when I leave a fandom, it's because I get bored or lose interest or fall into a depression hole for half a decade. (The depression hole is what makes this hard to answer. From 2018-2023 I wasn't on tumblr or fannish twitter and I wasn't really reading fanfic or "doing fandom" at all.)

I've left/avoided certain fandoms because of non-fandom interpersonal blow ups with specific people- I've had several friend groups explode messily over the years, and avoiding some of those people meant avoiding fandoms we used to share. (FFVII was briefly, tangentially one of those for me back in 2009.)

Now, I'm more likely to distance myself from a fandom if I find it annoying, honestly. I spent like ten minutes in the In Stars and Time tag and very quickly determined that it was Not For Me, and that's totally fine! It's a perfectly lively fandom, it's just not my thing. Same with Baldur's Gate and Arcane (and to a lesser extent TLT); I just get the curated content from my lovely mutuals, and if there's anything else going on, I pretend I do not see it.

24 if you could change one canonical thing about your Blorbo, what would it be?

Lemme just- *slam dunks Genesis Rhapsodos into the trash* And look! Nothing of value was lost. Nothing changes in the story that needed to be changed. The tragedy still unfolds, and it's 50% less idiotic! Angeal can stay. He's fine.

Maybe they've fixed the idiocy in Rebirth. I doubt it, though. Sephiroth's appeal initially comes partly from him being a bit of a blank slate- the players get a very limited window into who he is and what his whole deal is, and that vast *potential* is where some of the best (most unhinged) fanworks develop. The OG is very deliberate about how it treats Sephiroth as a villain- he's literally the shark from Jaws, hovering under the narrative. Twenty five years later he's one of the most recognizable video game villains in the world, so I understand *why* Remake went a different direction. But it's still a little disappointing. Sometimes leaving things vague and mysterious is good, actually!

Anyway, other than setting Genesis on fire- I don't know. Put him in one of those slutty turtlenecks with the boob window. It's what we deserve. (The serious answer- sort of- make him 2000% more body horror about the Jenova cells. Give him tentacles to go with the fucking angel wings.)

As for Resh'an- we've got three more games to go. He's sitting firmly in that sweet spot of unhinged potential; we don't know enough about his backstory yet for me to want it changed. So, really, the only change I'd make at this juncture would probably be to give the Great Eagle more tail feathers. It just *bothers* me, okay. Why are there only three.

#nattering #ask memes #sea of stars #ffvii

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thealogie · 5 months ago

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Reading an old DT interview I just saw someone linked in the tags and had to laugh at that (talking about an amazing Three Sisters production he just saw): "At the end, I wanted to stand up and cheer – but I didn’t, of course, because I’m British." Hehe

Other highlights include him not being fond of picking favorites evidently from the start: "It feels churlish to pick people out."

This bit of destiny: "Doctor Who is the finest piece of television that has ever been made anywhere. They’re putting together a new TV series next year and Bill Nighy is supposed to play the doctor. I’ve been onto my agent to see if I can get a part, but she’s not keen. She says I’ll never work again if I do it. I’m proud to say, though, that I have already performed in a couple of audiobook episodes. That was heaven." (The interview was for The Pillowman, 2003)

And this bit of Broadbent lore: "In rehearsals, Jim Broadbent did a very funny one-man impersonation of the RSC. It involved him drumming loudly on a metal cabinet while chanting “all hail the king”. You had to be there, really. Maybe he’ll reprise it for a cabaret act some day."

https://www.whatsonstage.com/west-end-theatre/news/11-2003/20-questions-withdavid-tennant_25729.html/

This is adorable. The part where his agent tells him he’ll never work again if he gets a part in dr who has me hollering. I think the sentence “Dr Who is the finest piece of television that has ever been made anywhere” is the most favoritism he has ever publicly shown in his life

#perhaps big evil PR/management company is real after all

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lovendeep-thoughts · 29 days ago

Text

i think he knows

This AU is inspired by the same title by Taylor Swift.

pairing: Caleb x feminine character / feminine reader

word count: 5k

💌: Hi again! I hope I captured Caleb’s characterization well. This one is pure fluff. I hope you enjoy it! < The 'Read More' feature doesn’t work with HTML. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. Please forgive me. >

I had just finished studying. I propped my legs up onto my desk (still a mess of scattered research drafts and empty sparkling water cans) and tilted my chair back onto its two rear legs. A long sigh escaped me as I stared up at the ceiling, letting the weight of everything sink in.

I had finally transcribed, translated, and formatted ten interviews for language validation. Just a few more months and I’d be free from this project and subject. No more dealing with that one infuriating teacher (╬▔皿▔)╯.

I closed my eyes and sighed deeper. My shoulders felt light, like the stress had been physical all along. Maybe it was. I’d barely slept, though all I did was sit in front of a computer and a laptop all afternoon. I’m becoming a couch potato at this point. At least my skin isn’t breaking out. I’m only breaking down. You win some, you lose some.

The top of my phone lit up with a Messenger notification. I leaned forward with a thud as the chair slammed back onto all four legs and grabbed my phone.

I swallowed hard when I read the last message, and my heart skipped Sixteenth Avenue over the idea that he could be there later. I gently set the phone down and spun my chair around to collapse onto my bed.

I buried my face in my pillow and squealed before I could stop it, followed by uncontrollable giggles; the kind that bubbles up from your chest when something is too good to be real. I kicked my legs, sending my slippers flying across the room.

I promptly lifted my head, realizing how utterly ridiculous I must’ve looked. I barely knew the guy. We only met at a coffee shop. He didn’t have anywhere to sit that one evening, so I offered him the seat across from me.

And let me tell you. The scream I almost let out when I heard his voice. Ugh!

Okay, yes! He’s hot. I noticed that before I offered the seat. His name is Caleb, and he is drop-dead gorgeous, like he could model for a streetwear brand or something. He was wearing a black jacket with blue and orange accents. When he took it off and slung it over the chair, I had to look away so fast. His tank top was paper-thin, and I could see the sculpt of his abs through it. I also *ahem* saw his nipples BUT I’m not talking about that. Nu-uh ✌(-‿-)✌. I’m no pervert.

Anyway, it wasn’t his looks that got me first. It was his soft, lyrical smile, a little shy, but with this mischievous undertone, and the playful warmth in his voice. We started with small talk: names, schools, dream colleges, future plans. Then I got way too comfortable and asked him what motivates him to stay fit.

I wasn’t flirting! I swear! I was just curious. I’ve been on a weight loss journey myself ever since I gained 10 kg back in 7th grade from all the stress. I just wanted to know how he kept going, you know? I want a pretty girl summer too.

It wasn’t until he laughed that I realized how personal and coquettish that question sounded.

“Ah! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…uhm…I was serious!” I waved my hands in front of my face, then just slapped them onto the sides of my face to hide my embarrassment.

And God, that laugh. It was rich and warm and way too easy to drown in. I felt a strange heat in my chest, right where my heart is. I peeked through my fingers and saw his bangs shift as he laughed, his eyes catching the light from the hanging lamp just right, and his head tilted back with ease. It was like time froze and the whole coffee shop melted away. There I was, staring at him, hands now clinging to my skirt like it could keep me grounded.

I shook my head to stop spiraling yet again about that night and reached lazily for my phone to text my friend.

I can come. See you in 20 minutes.

Because I’d need those 20 minutes to pick a dress and put on makeup—not just to cover up how miserable I’d been lately, but maybe catch his attention again, if he’s miraculously there.

I slipped into a simple pink layered off-shoulder dress that floated just above my knees, paired with white heels. I left my hair down and fastened a delicate white floral lace choker around my neck. I’m left with the final dilemma: my bag. It was between my off-white quilted one or the red faux leather apple-shaped bag. Caleb once shared how much he likes apples. It's something we had in common.

I didn’t want to seem desperate just in case he happened to be there tonight… but the apple bag was too cute to pass up.

Apple bag it is.

I texted Julia to let her know I was ready, then gave myself a final spritz of perfume before stepping out of the apartment complex.

The cold hit me the second I left the building, and I mentally cursed myself for forgetting a jacket. But the thought of going all the way back up alone felt more exhausting than the chill. I don't mind it, but I hope I don’t get sick tomorrow.

I told Julia I’d wait outside the coffee shop if I got there first, and I did. I used my phone as a distraction to pass the time, though my eyes kept flicking up and down the street.

A tap on my shoulder startled me mid-tweet about how peaceful midnight air can be.

I turned, and there he was.

Two deep, indigo eyes that seemed to hold entire galaxies in them. My breath was caught in my throat.

“Hi there,” Caleb spoke, a flicker of surprise dancing in his voice. “Didn’t expect to see you here this late. Do you... remember me?”

I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. “Ah, yeah. Caleb. Hi! It’s nice to see you again,” I tried not to sound breathless.

He stepped back a bit and looked me up and down with a small, amused smile.

“You look good,” he said. “What’s the occasion, little apple?”

My cheeks flushed instantly at that nickname. “My friend convinced me to go out. I’ve been cooped up in my room for a week.” I laughed nervously, covering my mouth with the back of one hand while my eyes dropped to the pavement.

He chuckled with that rich sound I remembered all too well. “It’s pretty cold out here. Do you mind waitin’ for your friend inside?”

I nodded, clutching my bag a little tighter. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

The bell chimed as we stepped into the shop, warmth washing over us. Caleb headed straight for a quiet corner booth and I followed, asking Julia for an update.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him pull out a chair and pause behind it, waiting. I glanced up from my phone, and he smiled.

“Would you like to sit here?”

My eyes fluttered, perfectly in time with the little flip my heart did. He’s such a gentleman, it almost feels unreal. “Thank you.” I caught the soft rise of my cheeks from my own line of sight.

He waited for me to sit before walking around to take the seat across from me. Julia texted back that she was just around the corner, and I replied quickly:

Already inside. Prince Charming showed up.

Caleb looked over at me. “What do you want to order? My treat. We didn’t even get coffee last time since we were too busy talking.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I insist.”

My eyes fell and scanned the menu like I didn’t already know my go-to. “Just an iced black Americano, then.”

“Would you like a cake?”

I hesitated. I’ve been watching my calories lately, but… I hadn’t eaten all day. One slice wouldn’t hurt, I guess.

“How about... a strawberry shortcake?”

His eyes beamed. “Good choice. I’ll get a latte and lemon drizzle.”

He turned to call over a server, just as Julia walked in.

“Julia!” I waved her down, and her face lit up when she saw me.

“It’s been so long!” she grinned, hugging me quickly before sliding in beside me.

“I know. Glad you managed to drag me out.” I rolled my eyes with a grin.

Her gaze flicked to Caleb, then back to me. Her lips curled with realization. “I gather you’re Caleb?”

He chuckled. “Seems like I don’t need to introduce myself. And you must be Julia?”

She nodded, and then, not so discreetly, grabbed my knee under the table—the ‘we are SO talking about this later’ grab.

“I’ve heard a lot about you from her,” Caleb said.

“I hope she left out the embarrassing bits.” She side-eyed me and I averted my gaze.

Julia laughed and introduced herself. After a while, she turned to fish something out of her sling bag. Looking for her phone, probably. Then she angled it toward me.

“Bad time to ditch you?” she asked with a suspiciously innocent look.

“What do you mean? You just got here.” I raised a brow. She wants to leave me right now? How cruel.

“Look at what my boyfriend texted me,” she said.

Boyfriend?? Girl, you do not have a boyfriend.

I squinted at her screen as she held it near my face.

OMG he is sure handsome! I’m making an excuse to leave you two. I’ll be in the vinyl store just in case you need me. Have fun, sis!

I groaned. Was she seriously playing wingman right now? “You actually let your boyfriend text you like that?” I covered my mouth, trying, and failing not to laugh.

She just shrugged, totally unfazed. “He’s being dramatic. You know how he gets when I’m out with someone else.”

I shot her a look, trying to suppress a smile as she tilted her chin up, smirking at me. “That is your type though, right?”

My hand flew out to smack her thigh. “Julia!”

“What?” she said, all fake innocence, then shot a quick glance at Caleb. “Still embarrassed over that?”

Before I could answer, she stood up dramatically. “It’s getting late. Will you be alright?”

“I can handle myself.”

“I could walk her home,” Caleb offered, a little too fast like he didn’t want to seem too eager. I guess he's just like me. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Julia, whose smile turns up significantly. “Only if she’s okay with that, of course.”

Julia gave me a smug look as she backed away. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

I looked up, making my lips as curved as possible. “Sure.”

I watched her disappear out the shop window before Caleb turned back to me with a grin.

“So…” he started, his tone a low sing-song. “You have a thing for possessive guys?”

“Shut up.” I muttered.

“I’m not judging,” he said, eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned in slightly, resting his chin on his hand. “Just… curious.” His gaze flicked briefly to my lips before settling back on my eyes.

I shifted in my seat, feigning nonchalance. “I just want someone to match my freak,” I shot back, tilting my head while leaning on my chair. I don't know where this confidence is coming from, but a girl's gotta do what she's gotta do.

“Oh?” His brow lifted in a slow and deliberate way. He's trying to peel back every layer of meaning in that sentence. “And how exactly does one do that?”

I crossed one leg over the other. “This kind of conversation requires drinks.”

He smirked. “But you don’t drink.”

I clicked my tongue. “Exactly.”

Our coffee and cakes arrived, saving me from having to elaborate.

“Thanks for the treat,” I said while the waiter was serving the plates on the table.

“I’d love to have dinner with you again. But maybe next time, somewhere with a little more space?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to fight the smile tugging at my lips. “This is your idea of dinner?”

“Isn’t it yours too?”

“It’s midnight, Caleb.”

He laughed as I glared at him. I took my first bite of the strawberry cake and my eyes widened. “Wow,” I mumbled, covering my mouth with a closed fist. “This cake is amazing. Strawberry cake’s a hit or miss for me, but this? You have to try it!”

Without thinking, I leaned forward, holding out a forkful toward him.

Just as I realized what I was doing and started to pull back, he gently caught my wrist and leaned in, taking the bite straight from the fork.

He sat back, dabbing at his lips with a napkin. As if he didn’t leave me speechless right there and then.

“Mmm. You’re right,” he said. “It’s soft and buttery, not that weird rubbery stuff from supermarkets.”

“My thoughts too,” I said. My voice evidently faltering.

He picked up his coffee, the cup looking small in his large hand. There was something so effortlessly magnetic about him, like he wasn’t trying to impress me at all… and still somehow completely was.

And that thought had been looping in my head since that night.

We finally exchanged numbers, and we made plans for tomorrow night, the night after, and another night after that. Somehow, our late-night meetups became a routine. Each one more comforting, more thrilling than the last. He always had a way of making the night feel alive, whether it was with his ridiculous high school stories or his rambling about the new recipes he’d tried, like his latest obsession: braised pork belly and egg stir-fry.

He always insisted on walking me home, no matter how late it got. And once he reached his place, he’d text me that he got back safe and how much he enjoyed our conversation. Every time, without fail.

He’s been acting like everything I never admitted I wanted in a guy—cute and bashful one second, flirty and bold the next. But underneath it all, he’s focused, disciplined, and driven, especially when it comes to his studies and workouts.

One night, I wrapped up my part of our research paper just past 2 AM. My brain felt fried to the neurons, so I decided to get up, stretch, and take a walk to clear my head. I threw on my running shoes, tied my hair up in a lazy bun, and stepped out in a plain white tee and black leggings.

I jogged around the circle park, looping until I hit 5,000 steps. But instead of heading home, my feet took me somewhere. Where else? Of course, it was the coffee shop.

Just as I passed by, the bell above the door jingled. And out walked Caleb.

“Caleb?” I blinked. “What are you doing out here at 3 AM?”

He placed one hand on his hip and gave me that familiar teasing smirk. “I could ask you the same.”

Then he added while looking away, “Woke up late. Needed coffee if I wanna finish my assignments.”

“I just finished writing our paper.” I beamed.

“Congratulations,” he said gently. Then his hand reached out, fingers slipping into my hair as he gave it a light tousle.

“And since you mention that, let’s go somewhere to celebrate. The night is still young.”

“Must I remind you that it’s three in the morning?" I turned to him and our shoulders nearly brushed. "Where we gonna go?” I whispered in the dark.

“Here’s a clue,” he murmured softly near my ear. “Charcoal and meat.”

I smiled, and I followed him as he yapped about his day.

He’s never asked me to hang out during the day, not once. No coffee dates, no lunch breaks. It’s always been midnight strolls, secret meetups under the city lights. I’ve been waiting for him to take that next step—to finally ask me out in the open. But instead, he’s been toeing the line, flirty but vague. So tonight, I decided to take the lead.

“Have you ever thought of modeling?” I asked, biting off a piece of barbecue from the skewer.

He tilted his head, feigning to be in deep thought. “I’d rather save my face for my future lover. Wouldn’t want her getting jealous.”

I choked on a laugh at his blatant narcissistic reply. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“What can I say? It’s your fault for complimenting me too much.” He winked.

“How could I not believe it when it’s coming from a pretty girl?”

“You really know how to work your charm.”

“I only use it on one girl,” he said, eyes steady on mine. “Why’d ya ask about modeling?”

“I have a friend,” I started casually. “She needs someone to model for her parents’ photography business. Thought you might be interested.”

He rubbed his chin. “Hmm. Will you be there?”

“Of course. I want to watch a real photo shoot.”

“Then I’m in. Only if you’ll be my personal assistant for the day.”

I smirked. “Consider it done, Model Caleb.”

A few days before the main photoshoot, Caleb and I dropped by Rozanne’s house, the friend I mentioned whose parents run a photography studio. It was just a quick mock shoot to figure out which angles flatter him most, which settings match his vibe, and what kind of makeup brings out his features best. Rozanne’s parents host an annual event like this, gathering friends and familiar faces for photos they can use to promote their business.

Now, we’re just waiting for Caleb’s last afternoon class to finish.

I’m relieved he wasn’t bluffing when he said he goes to the Aerospace Academy Integrated School in Skyhaven. Its college counterpart is one of the most coveted institutions in the country: a top-tier state university with a reputation for academic excellence and a long list of successful alumni—airline pilots, Nobel Peace Prize laureates, presidents, and award-winning national artists. As hard as it is to get into the college, the integrated high school is even more competitive and stressful. Thousands of applicants fight for a handful of slots. You have to be brilliant, not just academically, but also athletically, artistically, and socially. And, unless you’re extraordinarily gifted, a few key recommendations don’t hurt either.

Knowing that Caleb is that type of student still catches me off guard. Not in a bad way—just... surprising. He’s so effortlessly cheerful, so laid-back, so light-hearted. You wouldn’t expect someone with that kind of academic pressure or background to carry themselves the way he does. Despite being orphaned and raised by a modest, middle-class family, he seems to view life with an unshakable optimism. Too good to be true, almost. He’s got the brain, the looks, and the personality. The only giveaway is the tired puffiness under his eyes when he tilts his head down. I find that kinda endearing.

We’re tucked under the waiting shed, shielding ourselves from the stubborn sun. I originally planned to wear a muted mauve-edged red cardigan to hide my shoulders, but I didn’t expect the heat and humidity to be this relentless. So now I’m sweating through a spaghetti strap sundress I bought on impulse because I couldn’t resist the butterfly print. The brown and violet wings flutter across the soft beige fabric. It’s cute, but it adds to the ten aesthetics in one closet. Istg, my wardrobe has zero consistency.

The staff are busy checking equipment, muttering to each other about the settings and lens angles. Two of them are still stuck in traffic. Meanwhile, I’m lounging beside Rozy, gossiping and clutching my shoulder bag. I packed it with everything Caleb might need for the shoot: tissues, handkerchiefs, alcohol, sanitizer, snacks, a compact mirror, safety pins—you name it. I had no idea what to bring, so I just bought everything last night in a mild panic.

Caleb arrives five minutes past 1 PM.

“Good afternoon,” he greets, meeting my eyes with a softer than usual expression.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. Please follow me.”

He leads us toward the room he reserved and offers a casual tour along the way. “This is my homeroom classroom.”

Once inside, he immediately helps the crew unpack gear and adjust the setup. After a bit of conversation with the lighting guy, he excuses himself to change into a fresh uniform and wash up.

He then approaches me, holding out a small bag.

“Can you help me?”

“Alright.”

I’m now standing just outside the boys’ comfort room, ready for his beck and call.

After a few minutes, Caleb opens the door and hands me a plastic bag with the uniform he just changed out of. I tucked it into my tote bag without question.

“Do you have soap? I forgot mine in the classroom.”

“I do. Here you go.” I handed him a new pink beauty bar. I don’t care if it’s too girly for him. It smells good, and it works.

“Do you mind stepping in? There’s no one else here, and most of my classmates have gone home. I just need help making sure I don’t get my uniform wet while I wash my face.”

“You probably should’ve done that before changing.”

Caleb leans back against the sink, giving me that sheepish grin. “My blouse was clinging to me like a koala. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Oh, right! I bought a spa headband.” After washing my hands, I dig it out of my bag and show it to him.

“Apple-themed?”

“Yeah. I saw it at the store and just knew I had to get it. Think of it as my thank-you gift for modeling and helping Rozy out.”

I pop open the facial cleanser, pump it three times onto my palm, and work it into a soft foam. Carefully, I bring my hands to his face and start massaging the lather in with slow, circular motions. His eyes never leave mine, and it’s freaking hard to meet his gaze, like it’s too gentle and too direct at the same time. I fumble for a topic to break the silence, but he beats me to it.

“What do you think of me now?”

I laugh. I'm caught off guard by his question. “Smart-ass?”

“That’s all?”

“What do you want to hear?”

“More compliments from a certain little sunny apple.” He tilts his head to the side.

“You don’t get enough of those around here?”

“They don’t mean anything when they come from just anyone.”

I shake my head in mild annoyance. “Stay still.” I rinse his face with as much care as I can, making sure not to soak the collar of his fresh uniform. Once I’m done, I dry my hands and step back to admire my handiwork. His skin looks clean and bright, even glowing.

“All done!” I clap my hands lightly. “Let’s get going.”

Once his light makeup is done, Caleb starts posing around the classroom. The concept is to romanticize the everyday life of a high-achieving student in a prestigious academic setting, still effortlessly good-looking despite the stress. The team is capturing him like a character from a movie.

I zone out for a while, my eyes trailing him as he moves through the classroom, adjusting to the photographer’s cues. He’s completely in the zone, so I take a moment to enjoy the breeze from the window and watch the trees outside sway gently.

“What are you doing, little hamster?”

He’s now behind me. Turns out they’re on a quick break.

“Just admiring your school,” I say without looking away from the trees.

He joins me at the window, leaning on the railing with his elbows. His black tie sways gently with the wind, and his hair tousles perfectly, like a scene from a coming-of-age drama.

I rummage through my tote bag and pull out a tall, rectangular container. “Want an apple?”

“You only packed one?” he asks, leaning in like he’s peeking inside my bag too.

“If you want more, there’s a supermarket nearby—”

“I meant for you,” he interrupts, flashing a grin. “Wouldn’t you rather have this apple instead?” His voice drops just slightly.

“I’m not really that hungry anyway.”

I roll my eyes playfully. “I’m fine. You probably need it more than I do.”

“Then let’s share it.”

I scrunch up my nose. “Won’t you be grossed out?”

“We’re friends now, right?”

I pause, the question lingering longer than I expect. Friends? Just like that? He says it so easily, so casually, like he doesn’t realize the weight it holds in my chest. “Right,” I finally say, keeping my voice as light as possible. I take a small bite, then wordlessly hold the apple out to him.

He doesn’t take it right away.

Instead, his eyes drift up, focused on my hair.

“Can I tie your hair into a ponytail?”

I blink. “What?”

“Your hair’s sticking to your neck. They made you look hot, but I know it’s uncomfortable.”

I snort. “That’s not how you compliment someone.”

“I’m serious.” He moves behind me before I can even answer, his fingers brushing lightly against my shoulders.

“The little girls in my neighborhood ask me to tie theirs all the time. I’m practically licensed.”

“You’re such a sweetheart,” I playfully coo.

“I can be when I want to be.” His fingers sift gently through my hair, combing it back with surprising ease. It’s oddly domestic.

I can’t see his face, but I can feel the care in every motion. His touch isn’t rushed or fumbled. It’s patient. Like he’s done this a hundred times, which he did.

“There,” he says after a moment before he faces me. “All done. Let me see.”

I pull out my pocket mirror, turning it this way and that to catch a glimpse of the back. “Honestly? Better than what I usually do. Not bad, Mr. Neighbor.”

“Told you. Ponytails suit you. It makes your face look longer in a flattering way.”

He finally takes the apple from my hand. His fingers brushed against mine, barely, but I felt it. He takes a bite with his eyes locked with mine.

“It’s sweet,” he says, mouth full but still somehow adorable. He chews slowly, then smiles. “Just like you.”

For some reason, he looks like bread. I have no clue where that thought came from, but it sticks. Soft. Warm. Like fresh bread straight from the oven.

“You’re so corny.” I try to act unbothered, waving him off, but the heat rises to my cheeks anyway. I burst into laughter and had to bend down to clutch my stomach.

“Corny but correct,” he replies with that same lazy confidence, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

I look away, pretending to look beyond the trees, but I can still feel his eyes on me. He has to know. There’s no way I’ve been this obvious and he hasn’t noticed. The way I always show up extra early every night. The way I memorize the little things he says. The way I pack apples and apple-themed stuff, for crying out loud.

The rest of the day flies by as we move from location to location: the gym, the hostel, the garden, the library, the computer lab, the art studio. Sometimes I sneak photos with my phone, wanting to catch the behind-the-scenes moments. Caleb always notices and plays along by exaggerating his poses, smirking without ever looking directly into my camera. During breaks, he comes over to explain little details I’ve been curious about: the paintings in the hall, the model airplanes, the significance of the old tree where his class once camped out after pranking their teacher.

It feels like I’m on a field trip. Or maybe... a date. It makes me feel seventeen again, before the pressure of graduation deadlines and college entrance exams started swallowing me whole. Back when days felt slower and lighter. I’ve never thought of myself as a nostalgic person, but I can’t help missing that peace I had before turning eighteen. My thoughts drift. What if Caleb and I had gone to the same school all along? Would we have gravitated toward each other sooner? Would this softness between us have started years ago? Does he even like me now? I'm not sure, but I can’t have that, can I? I want him.

And I ain't gotta tell him, I think he knows.

P.S.

Rozy told me to check their studio’s website, insisting I’d be very surprised. Not even five minutes later, Caleb texted me the same thing.

You can check the website now. I hope you love it.

At that point, the way both of them were acting? I was seconds away from tearing my laptop in half from sheer anxiety. My heart was pounding like I had just been exposed on national TV.

The page finally loaded… and there it was.

Ten photos on the homepage. And both Caleb and I were in every single one of them.

I froze.

Photos of us laughing, talking, walking together. One by the fountain where I almost fell in, and Caleb caught me, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist as my body tipped backward mid-stumble. The photo captured the exact moment he looked at me like the world had slowed down yet again.

Another showed me drowning in his oversized lab coat, sleeves hanging past my hands, while he doubled over laughing, saying—and I quote—“like a kitten drowning in milk.”

No wonder the day had felt suspiciously light and full of breaks. I thought it was just for good vibes. Turns out, it was all part of their plan.

I texted Caleb right away.

And he called me.

His voice has a slight urgency in it as if he couldn’t say his reason fast enough.

Well… they wanted to romanticize my life, right? That was the only way I could think of doing it. You’re cute in all the photos, so it was actually hard to pick.

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

Do you hate them? I can ask the photographers to go with Plan B. But… I really hope you’re okay with it.

#love and deepspace #lnds caleb #lads caleb #caleb love and deepspace #caleb x fem reader #caleb x fem character #highschool au #fluff #caleb fluff

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idontwanttospoiltheparty · 8 months ago

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I don't know how best to share it. But the strongest evidence is probably the paraphrased quote from the Norman book that you've referenced in the past. Where she suggests that John must have had feelings for Paul. (https://mclennonanthology.tumblr.com/post/77393769824/from-chance-remarks-he-had-made-she-gathered). Like, it's McLennon evidence. But it's also her speculation, not coming from John or Paul. Then there's the audio diaries. The part that gets quotes all the time is the part where she says Paul would be competition for her. But, in context, she doesn't really say it in a jealous way. She says it after a long monologue about how much she likes him and how she hopes he likes her, not for herself, but "because she belongs to John." She also talks about how she vibes with him way more than George and Ringo. (I couldn't find a good transcript but this one from a Yoko hate site ☹️is ok https://yuckfoko.livejournal.com/22933.html) Then there's the oft quoted bit of the Sheff interview where John is trying to talk about how normal his relationships with Yoko and Paul are and Yoko's the one suggesting that people might have found John and Paul abnormally close (https://www.tumblr.com/amoralto/57260485982/august-1980-playboy-writer-david-sheff-questions)! And there's the bit of Sticky Fingers where Wenner claims that Yoko walks around telling everyone that John was gay and Hagen claims she also tried to convince Paul of this theory! (https://www.tumblr.com/amoralto/180893176242/the-wenners-moved-to-the-west-side-of-manhattan-in?source=share). Heck, she's one of the core purveyors of the "Paul was John's princess" idea!

That's all the super McLennon-specific evidence. But there's also tons of evidence that she was very fascinated by John's sexuality overall. There's the 1981(!) interview with Philip Norman where she claims she used to call John a "closet fag" to his face. (https://amoralto.tumblr.com/post/69790080940/i-used-to-say-to-him-i-think-youre-a-closet). She's possibly referencing John when she sings "You're thinking of Rock Hudson when we do it" in No No No. And another paraphrased quote from her that Norman used in John Lennon: A Life is the quote where she's claiming John said it would hurt her less if he slept with a man (and that he thought David Spinozza was hot) (https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-11785347/Inside-John-Lennon-Yoko-Onos-life-New-York-City-moves-Dakota-building.html). There's also the fact that Goldman makes endless references to Marnie Hair telling him Yoko gossiped about John and Brian a ton. Plus, she's the one confirming John was bi decades after his death in the 2015 interview. (http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2015/10/13/yoko-ono-i-still-fear-lennon-s-killer.html) I'm not saying her statements aren't evidence of John's actual queerness. I think they are. She was his wife, she knew him well. But they are also evidence that she spent (and has spent since he died) a lot of time thinking about his sexuality and seems to revel in the idea that he was queer as much as any tumblr shipper. If I want to get super speculative, I would even point to the fact that John seemed to play up his "Oscar Wilde side" when he was around her at times, and a plausible explanation is that he did it because she found it attractive.

Which makes sense when we note that Yoko has dated other queer men. Most notably Sam Havadtoy. And, in that 1968 audio diary, talks about her suspicion that certain gay men are "as attracted to her as they can be."

I don't know. I started thinking about this when you mentioned that the most concrete evidence we have for John's queerness and McLennon comes from Yoko. And then I started realizing how much of the stronger evidence comes from Yoko. And it really does start to seem like she's acting similarly to how many shippers do

Yup lol!!! I agree with this, for the most part. It's kind of crazy to me when I see people painting Yoko as having been two-dimensionally homophobic for shipping reasons when the truth appears to be so much stranger and more complicated than that.

Thank you so much for compiling this!!

I also just remembered the "boat called Paul" quote comes from Yoko and I think she also expressed to Norman that she found it weird that John was treating her like Stu by writing her letters.

It's genuinely bonkers how much of our theories trace back to her.

#ask #anon #yoko #jpy #jy #jp #meta #analysis #ref

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sgiandubh · 2 years ago

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Labor of love

I was very interested to see what S told Mark Gillespie on the last episode of the latter's WhiskyCast podcast, @bat-cat-reader immediately shared with us.

It was a most instructive 35 minutes. I listened to all of it, because I wanted to also hear Gillespie's tasting notes forThe Sassenach. And I regret nothing: once you get past the traditional (and a bit obnoxious) 'why The Sassenach?' question, you're in for some interesting news.

You can listen to it here, by the way:

Before anything, who is Mark Gillespie?

One of the most respected professionals in the very small world of alcohol specialized podcasters, with a 37 years work experience in media and broadcasting, spanning household names such as CNN, Bloomberg, Wall Street Journal, Gallup and MSNBC. But also, and this I found very interesting, given the current context, the owner of CaskMedia, a firm specialized not only in media production, but also marketing and PR.

The podcast was recorded at The Metropolitan Club's library, moments before the Keepers of the Quaich dinner, where S was a keynote speaker. So not 'just there for the Haggis Ceremony ' - a 'guest of honor' is never invited just for the show, people should have known better, eh?

S's 7 minutes interview starts at the 09:32 mark. Comments in brackets are mine.

Gillespie surely doesn't like to beat around the bush and after the customary niceties, asks a million-dollar question:

MG: 'I have to ask: did you have the troubles (problems?) in Germany straightened up?'

SH: ' Ha, ha, ha [not an organic giggle, but hey - gotta do what you gotta do, eh?]. Well, I am not entirely sure I should talk about it [speaks very quickly and through his teeth - visibly annoyed/nervous; not entirely sure I got it all correctly, so feel free to amend in comments], ah... ummm... not as yet... not as yet...ummm...we did fall into an issue with the name Sassenach, which was similar to a big brand in the US... ah!... in Germany, sorry... of a beer brand... I...I personally don't see the similarity [neither do I, S...neither do I], but I am sure once people taste our whisky, they'll know what it is, whatever the name is on it.'

Yes, this interview was probably rehearsed. Yes, Gillespie might have sent the questions to S/his people in advance for reviewing. No, he could not speak about a legally complicated situation before the final settlement with that Schoppingen beer brewer (penalties are probably still to be fixed and paid, but I will check that, so don't take my word for Gospel truth, yet). I will write separately about this whole thing, because I still think that was a very questionable decision of the EUIPO. Not because it royally pisses me off (so fucking unfair!), but because I really fail to see the proper legal reasoning and basis for it. His answer was perfect, under the circumstances. Absolutely perfect.

Anyways, FWIW, it would seem some sort of solution has already been found ('whatever the name is on it') and that most probably would be to rebrand it. And sell it on the German/EU market under a new name.

Lallybroch (https://trademarks.justia.com/981/67/lallybroch-98167525.html), perhaps? Time will tell, but that could explain this recent trademark application I didn't have time to properly look into, yet:

Further ahead (and fast forward through the cask version release, these things bore me to death), we land on another (as yet) unexploded ordnance:

MG: 'I have to mention your show MIK that you do with Graham McTavish, you visited a bunch of distilleries during that one... any visit in particular stands out?'

Now I am not very sure if that question was the best possible one, since that SAG-AFTRA strike is still an ongoing situation. And his answer was quite clever, changing the focus on their visit to Laphroaig's distillery on Islay and waxing lyrical about the casks, the peat, the landscape, etc. But other than a perfunctory and logical 'we', I heard absolutely nothing about McTavish, and it could have been so damn easy to further change the subject and mention his bourbon, with a few kind words. Therefore, I think things are pretty obviously not exactly on the sunny side, between the two. And I guess we all know why.

To end this long post on a cheerful note, I almost forgot to mention something very important. Answering a listener's question about Sassenach not being available in Rhode Island/part of New Jersey, S said something very interesting: 'obviously you can get it online, (...) we've just signed a deal with Southern Glazer's, so we're rolling it out. It is a limited batch, so you know, every year we do do a release and it is very limited, so it does tend to sell out pretty quick. But yes, it is available (...), but obviously you're not gonna see it in every bar, restaurant or retailer, because we just don't have enough of it. But online you can get it and great delivery service, it's very quick.'

I am taking two things home from this last answer: demand exceeds supply, which is both a blessing (solid yield, room for expansion) and a curse (lackadaisical market presence). On short to mid term, distribution will concentrate on the online market, with the help of Southern Glazer's superb infrastructure.

Remember the older guy he had lunch with in MIA, in May? You should, if you didn't focus on Mordor's inept babble about shirts, ballerinas and the like. That guy was instrumental into arranging the deal with Southern Glazer's. Just the biggest wine and spirits distributor on the US market, mind you.

Don't believe me? Check this out:

That company was founded in Florida. Its HQ is still in MIA. He didn't go there because he was looking for ballerinas at his birthday dinner. He went there because when these people are available to meet you, well: you leave everything aside and you damn GO.

Now who the hell is writing fanfiction, eh? You really should be ashamed, madam.

I rest my case.

#BoozeWars

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rainbowsky · 6 months ago

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Hey! First of all, I just want to say I'm really really enjoying reading your posts <3 Thank you so much for your hard work all this time!

So, my TOTALLY COMPLETELY and maybe even "I'm reading too much into it" question/observation is: I was watching the 20190602 DDU episode where The8 (from Seventeen) appears (this one https://w.mgtv.com/b/327225/5735184.html?fpa=se&lastp=so_result) and, at 13:52 WYB winks, and the hosts say his wink created lightning (something like that) and the editors even add an effect. COULD IT BE an inside joke about XZ's introduction back on his 2017 X-NINE DDU? Or am I tripping? Hahahaha

Thank you <3

Hi 1camoli9, thanks so much for your kind words, I'm glad you're enjoying my blog! 😊

youtube

Here is the episode on YouTube for those who do not have Mango TV.

For those who are unaware, when X-NINE was introduced on DDU back in 2017, GG introduced himself as the energy generator of the group and did a cute winking gesture.

It is entirely possible that they are making a reference to that episode.

youtube

Here is that episode. The moment in question happens at 7:25 when GG is introducing himself. He refers to himself as the 'energy generator' of the group.

(This actually comes up again in connection with his appearance on the 11th anniversary episode with DD. They are being interviewed together backstage and they talk about the first time GG appeared on the show. DD asks him why he introduced himself that way and GG says that he was told to.)

Anyway, to get to your question, I would not put it past the DDU brothers to be referring to that, as they liked to tease him a lot about GG, but given the timing of all of this it's hard to say. They didn't start teasing him heavily about GG until after the taping of the 11th anniversary episode.

Taping of the 11th anniversary episode happened in mid July and the episode that you're asking about aired in the beginning of June.

We will probably never know for sure, so if you enjoy that CPN, you should continue to. It very well could be an inside joke about GG. His introduction did seem to make a big impression on all of them at the time of X-NINE's appearance.

I talked a bit about the 2017 X-NINE DDU appearance in my Devil's Timeline post

My post about the DDU 11th anniversary episode can be found here.

#bjyx #yizhan #ddu #ddu brothers #the mysteries of yizhan #thanks so much #ask

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dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram · 2 months ago

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Inside, as a cocktail bar, make-shift band set-up and rails of clothes made in China are being frantically erected, the security is flustered and tweens outside squawk and slam on the windows. I find Tomlinson, 33, hiding in the basement alongside a crate of warm Peroni beers, two bottles of Grey Goose vodka and a basket filled with Skittles and crisps. Hardly the red carpet treatment.

>>>

New interview with Louis, somewhat savage. The writer is Joe Bromley, Fashion Editor of the Evening Standard, and an out gay man. I think it was a little harsh of him to dismiss the 28 clothing range as 'cheap' and 'made in China', then describe Louis as lurking in the basement with his bottles of vodka like some kind of reprobate.

Did you read the interview? Fair or stitch up job?

https://www.standard.co.uk/lifestyle/fashion/louis-tomlinson-interview-chav-class-fame-b1216282.html

There's a lot going on in this article - I don't think it helps to also deal with fan projection on top of that.

It becomes very difficult to talk about what is actually happening in a profile, when fans instantly exaggerate what is there. Saying that the clothes were made in China (which is obviously a completely legitimate subject for a fashion editor to cover) is not saying they are cheap. While there's a lot that could be said about the implications of the way the reporter wrote up the venue - the word 'reprobate' and its connotations is all yours and I think says as much about your value judgements as it does about the interviewer.

********

If by 'stitch up job' you mean the author went into closed minded and was always going to write that piece - then there's no way of knowing and no particular reason to think the result was predetermined. I will always assume people are doing their jobs as they understand them unless I have evidence otherwise.

What I want to emphasise is that there's nothing unfair about a profile being savage. The idea behind a profile is supposed to be that a celebrity gives up some of their control of their image in return for exposure to a large audience.

I know that some celebrities negotiate to retain a lot of control of profiles. But I think that's a bad thing! While some negotiating of what's off-limits is probably reasonable in some circumstances (the idea that you might want to talk about the horrific death of a former bandmate when talking about your fashion brand is very reasonable) - it drives me up the wall when fans talk as if celebrities should have control of how they're portrayed in profiles. Reporters should not be stenographers - and there's literally no point to a profile which is just 'this is what the celebrity wanted you to know about them'.

Louis did that interview, because of the circulation and audience of the London Standard. He's on the cover of newspapers that will be all over London this weekend. It will raise the brand awareness of 28 Productions considerably. I think it'll probably end up having the impact they wanted - the fact that the profile writer was a bit savage doesn't change that.

*********'

Louis wasn't giving the interviewer a lot. Not giving the interviewer a lot is obviously a core goal of Louis in interviews. There's a lot he doesn't want to say.

I obviously haven't seen the London Standard since it went weekly. But from what I remember of its predecessors I think having a good answer to questions about spending time in London - are a bit of a gimme when it comes to interview prep. And Louis not having good answers probably contributed to the final tone of the piece (but I think the writers views about boybands in general probably also contributed).

I don't say this as a criticism - there's absolutely no reason to think that the final piece for Louis and his team. Just to emphasise that Louis has agency.

#I'm really not sure what the sexuality of the journalist has to do with this

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 4 months ago

Text

Well, I've updated the HTML page:

Here is the new row added to the spreadsheet.

Date: 2024-12-29

Source: The Bugle podcast

Title: John and Andy Answer Your Questions!

Who said it: Listener question (from Sarah - editor's note: I'm Sarah), discussed by Andy Zaltzman and John Oliver

Name for group given: Chocolate Milk Gang

Members listed: Russell Howard, John Oliver, Daniel Kitson, David O'Doherty, Alun Cochrane (Andy Zaltzman reads this membership list from the 2007 Jay Richardson article on The List)

How they were described:

Andy Zaltzman: This comes from Sarah, who asks: "in the early 2000s, Andy Zaltzman and John Oliver were in an international of syndicate of comedians called the Chocolate Milk Gang. John Oliver: What? How is that true? Andy Zaltzman: This was news to me, John. I had to look this up. John Oliver: Chocolate Milk Gang? Andy Zaltzman: The Chocolate Milk Gang. John Oliver: That sounds like a kind of group that robs banks, and leaves chocolate milk in the vaults that once held gold bullions. Andy Zaltzman: Yeah. The only evidence I could find for this was an interview with Russell Howard - John Oliver: Oh, for fuck's sake. There you go, there's your culprit. Andy Zaltzman: Our comedic contemporary. But not our age contemporary, given that he's still, I think, about twenty-one years old. John Oliver: Yeah. Andy Zaltzman: Um, in which he was described as being part of the "Chocolate Milk Gang", which - it didn't mention me, it did mention you, Daniel Kitson, David O'Doherty, and I think Alun Cochrane, as "comedians who have turned away from the hard living, hard drinking lifestyle often associated with stand-up comedy". And were apparently known as the Chocolate Milk Gang. Now, I don't remember this phrase - John Oliver: No. Andy Zaltzman: From, you know, when - I mean, this article must have been at least from twenty years ago. The Chocolate Milk Gang. John Oliver: That feels like a label that has been stuck on us, rather than a label that we concocted ourselves. Also, one of the many reasons I think that that is built on nothing is that I'm not even a fan of chocolate milk, Andy. That would not be my drink of choice at any time. I don't know what the point of chocolate milk is, really. Andy Zaltzman: No. I mean, unless you've got a chocolate cow. I mean, what really is the point of it? Um - I mean, a chocolate mozzarella, I'd be up for that. I could see that working. John Oliver: Would you? Andy Zaltzman: If you get a chocolate buffalo, yeah. It depends on the texture, it's all about the texture. Anyway, and, um: "Accounts of the group's origins," Sarah continues, "tend to differ in specifics, such as who coined its name, whether they drank chocolate milk or milkshakes. Could you provide a definitive explanation? This question has been keeping me awake at night for a number of years," writes Sarah. John Oliver: That, I would - you need to sleep. There's your - I will say, I'm not a fan of chocolate milk, had not heard of this term, I think, like you, Andy, until recently. So, we're both in the clear, as far as I'm concerned. Andy Zaltzman: Right. John Oliver: Now, you've pointed the finger pretty strongly at Russell Howard there. Andy Zaltzman: Yeah. John Oliver: And I think it's incumbent upon him to fucking explain it. I would be not be surprised if that guy guzzled chocolate milk to a medically inadvisable extent. Andy Zaltzman: Yeah. I mean, when we all started comedy, I think he was probably too young to buy alcohol, so that might have been part of it.

I see how the first thing to come up when Zaltzman Googled it was that article from The List. That's the first thing I found too, when I first started searching for this quite a long time ago. And it's so incomprehensible, so fucking weird, making it sound like Russell Howard and his buddies were the first comedians to ever wear a t-shirt, and dropping that "Chocolate Milk Gang" name as though it makes any sense at all. It took me many hours of further research to find any of those other references to it, which further explain.

I think I slightly forgot how absurd the words "Chocolate Milk Gang" sound if you're not used to them. I mean, that's what started me down that rabbit hole in the first place, back then. I saw those words on John Oliver and Russell Howard's Wikipedia pages, put there as though that's a reasonable thing to call people with no explanation, and I thought - I need to know what it means. So I Googled, and the only thing that came up right away was that List article, which made everything even less clear, and then I kept searching, and now, several years later, there's that spreadsheet. But the words sound normal to me now. Zaltzman and Oliver's bewildered reaction reminds me that, if you haven't normalized the words "Chocolate Milk Gang" so much that you frequently use the abbreviation CMG for them, it's a really wild thing for someone to just send you an email about.

They put a lot of blame on Russell Howard there, which makes sense because the article about him is the main thing that comes up when you Google. But that one article (from 2007 - Andy Zaltzman said it must be at least 20 years ago, but it's in fact only about 18 years ago) is one of only two times I've seen Russell Howard mention it. Though the other time was in an article from 2024, so apparently Russell Howard still remembers it now.

However, I still think the Chocolate Milk Gang concept mainly comes from David O'Doherty. He's the person who's referenced it publicly the most often, according to my extensive research. One of the only references that comes from someone outside The Gang itself is from David McSavage, who brings it up while talking shit about David O'Doherty; he frames this gang as consisting of DO'D and his friends. David O'Doherty has referenced the Chocolate Milk Gang by name on three different occasions (a magazine interview from 2008, his ComComPod episode from 2014, and an interview with the Irish Times from 2006), but has also done multiple interviews across many years, in which he's talked in very specific detail about the CMG and its origins, stopping just short of using the actual name. Other people have done this too, but DO'D's done it the most often, I think. He's also got a biography page on his website (that he clearly wrote himself, not just a publicity blurb) the details the CMG origins, despite not quite using the actual CMG name.

So the obvious conclusion, to draw based on the above Bugle podcast transcript, is that I have been a victim of a long-term prank by David O'Doherty, who thought it would be funny to drop a few hints across many years that some comedians went by an absurd name, in case some comedy fan ever does a very deep dive into their history and finds all those clues and actually believes that the most famous political satirist in the world was once a member of something called the Chocolate Milk Gang. Though DO'D first referenced the CMG by name in 2006, so it's a prank that started long before he actually knew how famous John would be.

Not sure how he got his bitter enemy David McSavage in on it - though I think they were once friends (up until right around the time that McSavage talked a bunch of shit about him on a podcast). And Russell Howard. And Dominic Maxwell? And they got it on Wikipedia.

I mean, I'm joking about it being a prank. But I want to know how the term could have been used for so long without Zaltzman or Oliver having even heard of it. That's what surprised me. I was expecting them to say it wasn't really used much, but not to say they'd never heard the words before in their lives. And I would say that maybe they just don't remember much from the 00s, but John Oliver, amazingly, remembered every damn detail of Cowgate correctly. And Andy could pretty accurately describe Zaltzhorse Night.

I mean, that website of DO'D's also has an email address on it. "Hello, why did you lie to Stuart Goldsmith about which terminology Glenn Wool used to call you a fucking nerd in 2002? Thank you for your time, big fan of your work - especially all your stand-up hours that I've had the privilege to see or hear, and the time you took apart a cow in 2003. I also liked the 2006 TV show where you played with a kitten for a bit, and those times in 2006-07-08 when you got locked in an Australian radio station all night with Daniel Kitson and Claudia O'Doherty."

...I won't, I promise. If I wait another few years, maybe someone will explain.

I can't get over the fact that I now have a video of John Oliver telling me to go to sleep. I have affected John Oliver's life. I frantically Googled a bunch of stuff several years ago (and then continued researching it over the next few years), and as a result of that, a few minutes of John Oliver's life were different than they'd have otherwise been. Also, I made Andy Zaltzman laugh. You can hear him properly laughing as he reads the end of my email, where I say it's been keeping me awake at night (I'm... glad they think that was a joke). Fucking delightful. What an amazing outcome with so many more questions than answers.

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