I Love This Moment. I Love It, Because Agent Carter She Is Historically Accurate.

I love this moment.  I love it, because Agent Carter she is historically accurate.

American servicemen serving in the UK were issued pamphlets reminding them that the UK women had been in that war longer than the Americans had and deserved their respect:

A British woman officer or non-commissioned officer can and often does give orders to a male private. The men obey smartly and know it is no shame. For British women have proven themselves in this war. They have stuck to their posts near burning ammunition dumps, delivered messages afoot after their motorcycles have been blasted from under them. They have pulled aviators from burning planes. They have died at the gun posts and as they fell another girl has stepped directly into the position and “carried on.” There is not a single record in this war of any British woman in uniformed service quitting her post or failing in her duty under fire.

Now you understand why British soldiers respect the women in uniform. They have won the right to the utmost respect. When you see a girl in khaki or air-force blue with a bit of ribbon on her tunic - remember she didn’t get it for knitting more socks than anyone else in Ipswich.

No wonder she decks him. And no wonder his boss believes he deserves it.

Sleepy Luke napping on the couch. And when you go to cuddle him, he whines that you’re squishing him. Moving off of him with a pout, Luke’s hands quickly find your wrists, pulling you back to him. “Nooo come back!”

Rolling your eyes, you curl back into Luke’s side. “Make up your mind you big baby,” you smirk at him.

“Don’t be mean when I’m trying to snuggle you.”

favourite cake things: s e l f i e s

Calum seems like the type to be a little impatient. Especially when all he wants is to sleep with his beautiful new wife, but he can’t fucking figure out how to get your wedding dress off. Pulling at it, trying to find the damn zipper, ignoring your threats that you’ll “fucking end this marriage before it even starts” if he completely wrecks your dress. Calum’s about two minutes away from just going up your skirt, when he manages to find the zipper. Laughing at you, he finally gets your dress off, pressing quick kisses along your neck. Mumbling against your skin, “Nah, you’re stuck with me for life Mrs. Hood.”

You’re eating lunch the day you accidentally discover Calum has a thing for pain, staring at his fresh tattoo as he playfully teases you- knowing you can shut him up with one simple poke. You smirk and reach across the small patio table to do just that, poking it right in the center where you saw him flinch and scrunch his face in discomfort while he was getting it. His face changes immediately at the touch- his cheeks going red and back stiffening as he sucks in a sharp breath. You’re confused at first because that’s definitely not the crying you were expecting, and then he swallows thickly and shifts in his chair, his hand going to his cock and you realize he’s attempting to adjust himself in the confines of his jeans.

“Don’t,” he clears his throat as you brush your fingers lightly over the tattoo on his bicep, his eyes fluttering in anticipation of another sharp bite of pain before he continues, his voice low, “not here.”

You drop your hand without question and his fingers find yours over the table, lacing them together as he brushes his thumb over your skin, his eyes dark with lust as he raises his hand to catch your waiter’s attention, asking for the check.