#Yeah the actress was just Mel/Melody no last name

[amandayetagain]

tysm!! this is super helpful

Hey, I’m a huge btvs fan and I’m writing a meta post on wtws, but I can’t seem to find Willow’s character equivalent aside from the actress in Young Justice 33 & 34. Was Clover mentioned somewhere else, or did you name her yourself for your fic? Are there other issues I should look at?

Clover was something I made up for my fic, along with her actress's name. The Xander equivalent and his actor were named (Paulo/Javier). Cherub was canon. I also named the Spike equivalent (Pierce) and the Cordelia equivalent (Cornelia). I can't think of any other issues where they actually name any characters.

[firethatgrewsolow]

Chapter Fifty-three

**Moving on to Wales … prepare yourself, sentimental fluff ahead.**

Robert shifted in his seat for the third time.  Christ, why am I so bloody nervous?  It had been building since they touched down in Birmingham, their physical arrival a manifestation of all the dreams and promises shared in a land so far away.  This is it.  No turning back.  Not that he’d want to, having finally procured what he’d longed for the past few years.  Will they like their new home?  Will they like it here at all?  As Bella snuggled into his lap, he stayed silent, the thread of apprehension growing larger.

The urban setting surrounding the airport faded away, endless rolling hills taking its place, and Michelle gazed in wonder. Churches that must have been hundreds of years old dotted the countryside, along with cottages likely no younger.  The pictures he’d shown her hadn’t done it justice, unable to capture the pristine beauty of the landscape, now the fabric of a new life.  “This is incredible.  Like a storybook.”

���It’s something, yeah?” Robert replied, trying his best to mask the tension in his voice.

His tone gave her pause; he sounded stiff, almost aloof.  Is he happy we’re here?  Is he having second thoughts?  The goodbyes had been painful, as she’d known they would be.  Melody had been nearly distraught. Truth be told, Michelle still felt numb, the abrupt change of course leaving her breathless.  It’s only a matter of weeks … then everyone will be back for Earl’s Court.  Most everyone, anyway.  Her mom and dad wouldn’t be attending, not that she’d expected them to, particularly since they’d not been invited.  Her thoughts turned to Robert’s parents, and butterflies invaded her tummy.  God, please let them like me.  And Bella, especially Bella.  For all intents and purposes, the child didn’t have any grandparents, a fact that filled her with regret, having loved her grandmother so.  Well, there’s Nancy, I suppose, and of course, Laura and Mel.  

She’d read all she could about life in England and Wales, hoping for some semblance of understanding.  In the end, she’d have to rely on fate and Robert … and maybe a little John Henry.  She’d not realized that the farm in England was so close to the drummer’s family and caught herself wondering what his wife was like.  Will we be friends?  It was no matter, for the moment, as their first stop was Wales, but the doubt lingered.  Will I have any friends at all?  God, am I doing the right thing?  She swallowed, glancing to Robert.  Bella was still in his lap, his arm wrapped protectively around the drowsy child.  He caught her eye and smiled, the soft glow of it smothering the momentary indecision.  Yes, there’s no doubt that I am.  As they slowed to take a turn onto a small gravel drive, she peered through the window. “Are we getting close?”

There was a look on her face he couldn’t decipher, and Robert felt a pang in his gut.  “Well, this is it, actually.  We’re, uh, home.”

Bella squealed and pointed to their host, who was merrily greeting them, barking and running alongside the car.  Michelle couldn’t suppress a chuckle.  “Is that who I think it is?”

“The one and only,” Robert murmured as the house came into view.  He kept his eyes glued to hers, searching for any sign of acceptance.  Please, please let this work.

Michelle stared transfixed.  It was nestled between thickets of oaks, a fortress of sorts, the mighty gray stone walls likely impenetrable.  But warm, too, cozy and safe.  Just like him.  An expansive garden curled behind it with daffodils sprinkled along the edge, and her mouth began to curve as they rolled to a stop.  

“I know it needs work … I’ve always meant to … we’ll do whatever you want,” Robert stammered, helping her from the car.

“Robert.”

She was still, so quiet that he almost missed his name on her lips.  Oh, Christ, I knew it.  She hates it.   “What, Belle?”

“I love it.”

She loves it.  He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath, and air rushed into his lungs as relief flooded through his body.  “Do you really?” he squeaked with a silly grin.

She draped her arms around him as Bella and Strider played chase.  “I feel like I’ve always been here.”

“Oh, honey, I’d hoped you would, I’d really hoped …”  He leaned into her for a kiss, stopping at the gentle clearing of the driver’s throat.

“Where should I put your bags, Mr. Plant?”

“Sorry, mate, ah, just leave everything by the door, thanks.”  Like the giddy boy he suddenly was, he scooped up Bella and took Michelle’s hand, whisking her away.  “Let me show you my favorite part.”

He led her to the side of the house and down a short trail covered by thick thatches of mossy trees.  The faint roar of rushing water caressed the air, and it felt quiet and cooler.  Secluded.  They approached what appeared to be a kind of room beneath the canopy.  A large hammock swayed between two of the bigger trunks, surrounded by makeshift tables and chairs formed from massive roots and rocks.  A rich Persian rug had been situated to provide a carpet of sorts, and candles were scattered about, most ensconced in ornate, metal holders.  It looked enchanted, pagan, like something out of one of his crazy tales.  It looked like him.  “Unbelievable.  This is just …” she trailed off as he coaxed her toward a curtain of stone facing an extraordinary view of mountains and the sea through long, leaf laden branches.  “It’s breathtaking,” Michelle whispered in awe, “I can see forever.”

Robert set Bella down, amused as she immediately scurried back to her new best friend. Gathering Michelle against his chest, he reclined on the rock, both of them mesmerized by the panorama.  “Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to see this?  For you to be here?”

“Yes, I do, actually.  Three years, six months and, um, about eight days?”

He laughed, laying his cheek atop the crown of her head.  “I adore you, Michy Belle Plant.”

“I believe that’s Grant.”

“No, not anymore.  I want you to marry me and make a passel of kids, maybe from this very spot.”

“Well, I like the sound of the last part,” she snickered, nibbling her lip. 

Robert sighed, his brow wrinkling.  “You’re not taking this seriously.  I mean it.”  He spun her around, looking into her eyes.  “I want to give you my name, Michelle.”  

“The one I have is okay with me.  All that stuff is such … what is it you say?  Bollocks?  It’s just silly and old fashioned.”

“Well, then I guess I’m silly and old fashioned.”  He cupped her face, tracing her features.  “I want to share everything with you, girl … give you anything you want.”

She ran her hands along his shoulders, tangling them in the locks she loved.  “I have everything I want and everything I need right here.” Her fingers tightened in his hair, and Michelle drew him closer.  As he opened his mouth to respond, she kissed him, softly at first, tentatively listening for Annabelle and Strider, but they were forgotten for a moment as the kiss grew deeper.    

He could feel a hum in the back of her throat and brought his hands to her hips, slowly sliding them up and around her breasts.  As his body responded, he began to contemplate all the different ways they could …  

Michelle abruptly pulled back at the sound of Annabelle’s giggle and Strider’s disapproving bark.  The collie jumped up, giving her a very sloppy admonishment across the side of her jeans.  “So charming,” she chided as Robert scolded him, brushing away the mud from her pants.

“He certainly has his moments … and I believe we have unfinished business.  Maybe we set a date for …”

“Kiddo goes to bed at seven.”  Michelle smiled as Bella protested with the best grimace she could muster.  “With jet lag, it should be six, honey.”

“What’s jet lag?”

Robert swooped her into his arms, settling her against his hip.  “Your mum’s being too hard on you, isn’t she?”  The girl’s histrionic pout was a work of art, and he glanced to Michelle.  “I think we may have an actress on our hands, yeah?”

“Or a very good grifter.”

Annabelle was, indeed, asleep by six, the long journey having exhausted her.  She lay nestled in her new bed between a wall of fuzzy stuffed animals and Strider, who wouldn’t leave her side.  After Robert’s third goodnight kiss, Michelle corralled him into the living room, settling on the sofa while he fetched some wine.  She gazed through the room, adorned with various paintings and books, pausing on the centerpiece, a broad fireplace framed by a beautifully carved mahogany mantle.  “Strider and Bella seem quite taken with each other.”

“Strider’s like me. He has a weakness for pretty girls.” With a pop, the cork flew from the bottle, and Robert poured them each some Champagne.  “Besides, I had a long conversation with him.  I told him to be on his best behavior.”

“Really?  And when would that have been?  Before you left for the tour?” she teased, shivering at the chill from the evening air wafting through the ancient plate glass behind her.  “I didn’t know clairvoyance was one of your many attributes.”    

“It was on the telephone, naturally.”

“Right.  Of course.”  Drawing a quilt over her shoulders, she scanned the pile of wood stacked neatly on the hearth.  “You know, I’d really love a fire.”

“It’s not that cold,” he countered, topping off the flutes.

“It’s cold enough.”  At his stubborn silence, she added, “I can do it myself, if you like.”

The singer smirked at her miffed tone, taking a step toward the sofa.  “You don’t know how to light a fire.”

Cocking her head, Michelle made a move to stand.  “I damn well do, you little … git!”

Robert froze, the stems laced precariously through his fingers.  “Did you just call me a git?”  

“I did,” she replied as menacingly as she could.  

A standoff ensued, each gauging the other’s course of action.  As the seconds ticked by, he watched a smile gradually form on her face.  That smile.  Delivering the wine, he dispatched himself.  “A fire it is.”

Exalting in her win of the battle of the wills, Michelle curled her legs underneath her.  “I think we should unpack tomorrow.”

He wrestled with the kindling and a few small logs, finally sparking a flame.  “Sounds good to me.”  Satisfied with his ministrations, Robert burrowed next to her.  “Lots of other things we can do to stay occupied,” he murmured, gliding his hand along her thigh.

As the blaze caught on, its snaps and cracks echoed through the room, nearly making her flinch. “You need softer things in here.”

“I’m off to a pretty good start.”  He nipped at her ear, his hand drifting north.

She playfully slapped it away.  “I mean things like thicker rugs … something to absorb the sounds.”

Not the least bit deterred, the corner of his mouth turned up.  “It’s an old house, love.  Lotta hard things in here.”

Shaking her head, Michelle rolled her eyes.  “Jesus Christ, don’t you ever get tired of …”

“Nope, never.  It’s a gift.”  He reached for his glass, ceremoniously clinking it against hers. “To us, Belle … to the beginning of the rest of our lives.”  As he toasted, his dimple deepened.  “And to christening every room in this house.”

“Mmm, big house … I suggest we get started.”

In an instant, Robert pounced.  Like magic, the flutes vanished as he nudged her into the cushions.  “At your service.”

She laughed, running her hands through his hair.  “You sure don’t waste any time.”

“There’s none to waste.”  He nuzzled her cheek, expelling a short breath.  “Christ, I’ve been lookin’ forward to this all day.”  A log shifted in the fireplace, dropping with a thud near the screen, and Michelle glanced to the burning embers trailing across the hearth.  “Leave it,” he whispered, his lips dusting hers.

With a purr, she draped her legs around his hips and thighs.  “You better hope Annabelle doesn’t wake up.”

“Strider’ll keep me apprised.”  Unbuckling his belt, he tugged at her top.  “We have an understanding.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know,” she breathed, wriggling out of her shirt.

“Pretty aware of that.”  Robert kissed her again, moving his attention to the buttons of her jeans.

She lifted her hips as he slid them off.  “Let’s just go to the bedroom.”

“No, uh-uh … gotta start here.”  Unclasping her bra, he tossed it aside.  “It’s, ah, good luck.”

“Good luck?” she scoffed, pressing her hands against his chest.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he mumbled, his fingers skimming the edge of her panties.  “Ancient Celtic ritual.”

With a snort, Michelle raised her brow.  “Ancient Celtic bullshit.  You’re just horny.”  She narrowed her eyes as he shrugged, giving her a sheepish grin.

“That too, love, that too.” 

[lexygreenwell]

Golden Globes 2017 - Predictions and Hopes

The stockings may no longer be hung by the chimney with care, but the smell of Awards season is in the air! It’s time for the Golden Globes!

Admittedly, I haven’t been blogging as much this year. A lot has happened. I moved to California and began my journey through life as an adult, which can be quite scary and takes a little adjusting. But leave it to a new year to get my write-y senses tingling again. I’m hoping to do a lot more this year, in various different aspects of life, because 2017, if you tilt your head and squint your eyes, is a year of potential. Also I will need something to take my mind off of our incoming political administration. But I digress.

Film in 2016 was like a quiet kid at a party who just wants to let loose - he tries a few times, learns a lot about himself and the fragility of the human condition (hey there Manchester by the Sea) but he ultimately figures out how to have fun and brings the party in unexpected ways (La La Land). Meanwhile, I would equate this year in TV to a champion boxer at the top of his/her game - delivering consistent punches with razor sharp accuracy, and nabbing multiple KO’s throughout the season (I’m looking at Stranger Things, Game of Thrones and Westworld).

With the Critics’ Choice Awards behind us and Jimmy Fallon ahead of us, (I’ve got high hopes buddy) here’s who I think campaigned the most… er, I mean, will be taking home some big gold balls this evening. MaesTRO!

Best Motion Picture - Drama

I’m a little behind on my film viewing this year (but don’t worry, all will be rectified come Oscar week) so I’m doing a bit of guesswork here based on the word of friends and family, critics, momentum, and previous awards/festival recognition, if any. Based on these, I would have to say Manchester by the Sea is the favorite in this category, though I would also love to see Moonlight or Lion take top honors. (Just, not Mel Gibson. And spare Andrew Garfield).

Best Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy

La La Land has been campaigning HARD, and rightfully so - the cinematography is dazzling, the balance between whimsical and low key is expertly held, and all its contrasting flavors and dancing delights meld together beautifully under the visionary, artful leadership of “Whiplash” director Damien Chazelle. This award going to anyone else would be a major upset. (Gotta give love to Deadpool and Sing Street)!

Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture - Drama

A plethora of strong female leads this year, arguably lead by Viola Davis, but you’ll find her (most likely) taking home Supporting Actress. I said a few months ago that Jessica Chastain’s ethically challenging performance in Miss Sloane was not to be overlooked, so I’m glad to see her listed. But I think it’s between stunning newcomer Ruth Negga for Loving and Natalie Portman for Jackie, with the most likely winner being Portman, as her campaign has picked up speed as of late. But the globes have a history of taking kindly to breakout stars, so a first-time win for Negga is also probable. We’ll have to see with this one.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture - Drama

From what I’ve seen and heard, it’s Casey Affleck’s to lose. This has stirred up a little controversy, since Affleck is still receiving praise while Nate Parker is not for Beasts of No Nation, despite both being accused (and later acquitted, in Parker’s case) of similar crimes. However, the nominees being what they are, an award for Affleck is the most likely scenario. 

Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy

Yeah, it’s Emma Stone. Unless Cecille B. Demille has something planned for honoree Meryl, but I don’t think they’d do that. Props to Hailee tho.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy

Oh, The Lobster! I heard such great things about Colin Farrell’s performance. But this category could go a variety of ways based on past behavior: it could go to the best actor in a “this is way more drama than comedy but let’s go with comedy” comedy (Farrell), it could go to best actor in a musical who showed off tons of talent (Gosling), or it could go to the “laugh out loud” funniest (Reynolds). My hunch is, in keeping with the La La Land theme, they’ll go with Gosling here.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in any Motion Picture

All amazing performances from what I’ve heard (and will soon see). But there’s a reason Queen Viola was placed in this category - she came to dominate. She was a force in Fences.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role in any Motion Picture

Gotta go with the favorite Mahershala Ali. Moonlight deserves a win and if it’s most likely to come anywhere, it’ll be here.

Best Director - Motion Picture

Damien Chazelle was nothing short of both a painter and poet. He’s our guy.

Best Screenplay - Motion Picture

Now this is a little tough, because the screenplay category at the Globes lumps in both original and adapted screenplays. Only Nocturnal Animals is adapted, but the strength of La La Land’s inventiveness and juxtaposing personalities is hard to resist this year. I could also imagine Moonlight or Manchester taking this home as well, given the direct, heavy impact of everything that is said, and unsaid. I’ll stick with La La, but the latter two are worthy spoilers.

Best Motion Picture - Animated

I think My Life As A Zucchini should be given an award for its name alone. I imagine Zootopia and Moana, feminist masterpieces, are the favorites to take the cake. And Sing was adorable (and Tori Kelly #slays). But personally, Kubo is instantly connective, and it appears to be the greater artistic feat among the bunch. I would choose it to win, but would have to go with the former two as worthy contenders.

Best Motion Picture - Foreign Language

Given the strength of the title characters’ performance, I’m going to have to go with Elle.

Best Original Score - Motion Picture

I have a lot of thoughts on scores this year (may have to put them in another post). Especially on Johann Johannsson’s work for Arrival (that cello lead emulating a whale that represents ominous contact from another world?! C'mon!) But it has to be the overarching mystic whimsy of Justin Hurwitz’ La La Land.

Best Original Song - Motion Picture

When I first heard JT’s “Can’t Stop The Feeling!” almost a year ago, I thought to myself, “Well, somebody’s winning an Oscar.” It seemed like a sure thing. But then “City of Stars” came along, with its all-at-once haunting yet catchy melody… in minor, I might add. It perfectly captures what we see and feel in the film, the push and pull of falling in and out of love with Los Angeles, being inspired, yet disheartened by pursuing a life as an artist. It takes true mastery to compose a work that melodically and lyrically mirrors the essence of such a complex feeling. So as much as I’d love to see JT or even Lin-Manuel win a Globe, the genius of Justin Hurwitz and La La Land is not to be outdone this year.

TV, quick! What an extraordinary year!

Best Drama

Stranger Things - I think as a whole, it was the best, freshest, and most entertaining package TV had to offer this year.

Best Comedy

Atlanta - Let’s give Transparent, Mozart and Veep a break.

Best Television Limited Series or Motion Picture Made for Television

It was all about The People vs. O.J. Simpson this year.

Best Performance by an Actress In A Television Series - Drama

Evan Rachel Wood - the skill and self-control required to switch almost instantaneously from pure hysteria to robotic dread is ridiculous. Acting master class.

Best Performance by an Actor In A Television Series - Drama

Rami won last year, deservedly. Let’s try Bob for Better Call Saul.

Okay, I’ll leave it here for now, but stay tuned for more blogs and other trinkets and things in the coming year :) Happy Globes!