how to choose wine

THAT Wonder Woman script, part 3 of why do you hate us joss


Diana left her extremely heterosexual all-women island commune to take a gap year and discover herself! And also because a boy turned up and dazzled her with his moral superiority!

The pair arrived in a stereotypical war-torn African country, where Diana unhelpfully escalated a situation, got shot and was deeply offended that she took six whole hours to heal from a near-fatal bullet wound, while Joss tried unsuccessfully to insert his own gun politics into the story.

Then they went to America, where Diana was hilariously mistaken for a sex worker and shamed for her revealing clothing!

We also met our villain! Well, villains, because why have one quality bad guy when you can have about six bargain bin ones. Roll call!

  • whosit the stereotypical African warlord; he’s out of the picture
  • whatshisface the stereotypical gangster, who’s about to get condescendingly lectured at
  • Discount Veronica Cale, an embarrassing caricature who runs Evil Incorporated, which secretly fuels war and panic and inequality all over the globe because fear is tasty etc.
  • Strife, a Greek goddess who Whedon has retooled into a male demigod for no reason I can see
  • The Khimaera, which is either a mythical creature or an industrial-sized drill or possibly a combination of both, it really hasn’t been adequately explained
  • Ares, the evil behind the curtain

no, I know, I’m shocked the studio passed on this kind of quality material, too.

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Full Moon

Type: One Shot
Genre: Fantasy, Vampire!AU
Member: Joshua
Word count: 2,865
A/N: Inspired by Sunmi’s Full Moon M/V.


Rain rings against the rooftop like bells. The sound sooths his heart as he lay in bed, too weak to even sit up and enjoy the breathtaking rainfall. The indigo sky seemed quite clear tonight except for a few clouds, where the beaming full moon hides behind.

Joshua softly groans with annoyance. His fever runs like a wild fire, but his fingertips and toes feel like frozen icicles from the arctic. Pale lips with sweat dripping down his forehead, he doesn’t know how much longer he can last in this hell, even taking a breath felt like a struggle. He stares at the bell on the nightstand before shaking his head. His mother had done enough for him already.

He raise his hands before his droopy eyes as he wonders why he had been born with such a fragile body and a weak immune system. Joshua thought he’d be used to it by now, but as days go by, he grew more and more tired; physically and emotionally. Just when he thinks he’s getting better, he’s struck back into his frail state. It has gotten to the point where he has to be pushed around in a wheelchair. He can’t even stay outside no more than 30 minutes before feeling the sickness kick in.

These days he felt lucky if his food stayed down in his stomach.

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pizza-is-my-buziness  asked:

Okay but like kitscliffe sugar daddy "AU"? Like maybe the first time he takes her out somewhere absurdly expensive and she's like I could get used to this and it's like foreplay?

the au is in quotes here because as we all know, kitscliffe is literally a sugar daddy relationship, otherwise you tell me why the adorable agnes went for a man twice her age if she didnt want him to find her art lbr

but anyways -

She knows what this looks like - she can see it in the waiter’s eyes as he brings them out the wine menu but hands it directly to Holden skipping over her as if a girl in her early twenties would have no clue how to handle choosing a wine.

Let alone be offered the privilege to by her… Patron.

That’s the word Holden had used, insisting they were like a regency love affair, she the young artist sitting in the country side creating her art, and him the rich man with funds to spare wanting nothing more than to see her creativity flourish. 

It was not wrong.

Not far from the truth. 

Though he wanted much more than that from her.

The hand under the table settled on her thigh is evidence to that and she shifts forward involuntarily, moving towards him desperate for more contact. 

“Holden,” she says, her voice only slightly betraying her. Here in this restaurant it feels less like dinner and more like foreplay. She steadies herself, before “Pick a white wine.”

She can still see it in the waiter’s eyes.

Everyone knows.

Agnes just can’t find it in her to care. 

“Anything for my girl.”

First Dates (Olicity fic)

A/N: This started off as a dialogue-only fic, and…well, it wasn’t working as well as I wanted it to, so I tweaked this and played with that and it ended up here. 

Full disclosure – the idea for this came to me as I was bored at work and browsing the arrowtags blog (guys, you do stellar work – thanks for entertaining me!) and came across this gifset and the comments underneath it. I don’t know if anyone has actually written on this idea before (I haven’t seen anything), but it amused me so much that I just had to pen something. So, in a way, I suppose you can all blame fernlicity, susannahmccormick, fiacresgirl and thecolourpurpleinafield for this one. 

Tagging chronicolicity because you asked. :)

First Dates

Summary: Oliver and Felicity’s first date didn’t end as well as they’d hoped. A year later, they reminiscence, and consider how much has changed.

Read on AO3 or below. 

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can we talk about how edward was carefully choosing which wine to bring to the dinner before he met isabella? he could have just grabbed any old wine off the shelf, but he was taking his time with it. Similarly, I’m sure that Os must have a wine cellar of some sort? And yet, Edward goes out of the way to pick out a wine because they both wanted the dinner to be perfect and i am screaming


The dawning came.  Slowly.

The night they met, there had been some spark of excitement somewhere in her chest.  It hadn’t gone unnoticed, and that was what kept her in the mahogany chair at a table for two, entranced by the accented voice and eloquent words of a woman with dark, warm eyes.  Rarely had she ever felt such an instant connection with another person – in fact, if there had ever been one so strong, she couldn’t recall – but the prospect of finding someone that she could talk to about…everything…

Myka Bering was not so naïve as to miss how special that was.


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