tetragonia - Tumblr blog

tetragonia · 9 hours

Text

If Masters of the Air characters are Hogwarts students, what would their houses be?

Bucky is definitely a Gryffindor, no doubt. He's brave, determined, sneaky, and kind of self-sacrificing (those run Buck made from the camp). He's loyal, yes. Loud and fearless, yes. Also: stand up for what they believe.

Buck is... Hufflepuff. Don't you agree? He's somewhat calm and resourceful, he's so loyal (esp to his girl back home and to Bucky *cough cough*). Buck's also reserved pilot, he's so good under pressure and doesn't seek attention... Again, beautiful things don't ask for attention :)

Harry Crosby... Croz would somewhat be a Slytherin. DON'T COME AT ME but I just got that vibe from him despite being somehow a bit awkward and nervous at first. And conflicted. But his skills in navigating (and that he pursued a Master degree after the war hinted a Ravenclaw's thirst for knowledge). Help me out here.

And for our Rosie, he's such a Divergent T_T As brave and patriotic as a Gryffindor, as sleek as a Slytherin, as humble as a Hufflepuff, and as smart as a Ravenclaw (graduated a summa cum laude from Brooklyn Law School). He's giving a big Gryffinclaw vibe for me tho... but I couldn't really decide, what do you think his Hogwarts house would be?

15 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 2 days

Text

ok fuck this is so hot

#rosie rosenthal #masters of the air #robert rosenthal #robert rosie rosenthal #nate mann #rosie rosenthal gif

35 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 2 days

Text

My Body, His Choice

Rafe Cameron x F!Reader

Blurb: In which you've been arguing with Rafe Cameron all these years and that one time when arguments turned into something heated. Literally.

warning: no use of (y/n), kissing, harsh words, a bit suggestive?

note: enemies to lovers ;)

words: 445

“You know, for someone who claims to be so perfect, you sure do have a lot of flaws.”

You threw a bitter remark at Rafe. This was clearly not your first time getting into an argument with him.

"And you, of all people, would know about flaws, wouldn't you? I mean, it's practically your expertise."

Rafe was no stranger to you. You two grew up side by side as you were the same age. You often followed your father that Ward hired to lead some fishing expeditions. You met Rafe when you were 10 and none of those years patch your rocky ways together.

“Sarah is my sister, I sure know what’s best for her,” Rafe gritted his teeth.

“And that’s clearly not living with you,” you countered. “She’s happy with us, Rafe! I’ve never seen her laugh this much when she was with Topper, it felt like she was held hostage!”

Rafe stepped closer to you hurriedly, hissed, “Watch your little mouth.”

“Or what?” you removed more space between you and Rafe, throwing your head up in a cocky way and raising your right eyebrow. Hands on the hips, smirk never left your lips.

Rafe's breath was deep and his eyes were fixated on you. You thought he'd explode but then suddenly he grabbed your nape and pulled you close, pressing his lips against yours. His breath felt hot against your skin, his grip was tight.

Rafe’s kiss was rough and hurried, fueled by a mix of desire and frustration.

Caught by surprise, you didn’t think twice to kiss him back. He was infuriating, yes, but wasn’t he charming? With that cocky grin and confidence whenever he stride, Rafe was effortlessly dancing between the line of tempting and irresistible.

Even if you find yourself rolling your eyes at his antics and cursing his name under your breath, there’s no denying the undeniable attraction of Rafe.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since you jumped on that boat,” Rafe whispered between kisses. His grip on you tightened as if afraid you might slip away, his movements desperate and urgent.

You kissed him deeper, biting his lower lips as he let out a soft moan. In this moment, nothing else mattered but the feel of his lips against yours, the taste of his skin, the sound of his soft sighs mingling with her own ragged breaths.

“Then why did you pick an argument with me?” you moaned as Rafe started to kiss your jawline, and then your neck. “Do you suck that bad at flirting?”

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Rafe hissed to your neck as you shut your eyes, feeling the intensity.

“Fuck me yourself, you coward.”

481 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 4 days

Text

Joe Toye's son about his father:

"He was a pretty religious guy and went to church every Sunday. He was even in a choir when he was young. He was always grateful for what he had. They portrayed him in the series as a quiet, almost morose kind of guy, but growing up, I saw another side of him. He wasn’t a backslapper, but he had a pretty good sense of humor. Babe and Malarkey both said that when the bullets started flying, my dad sang Irish songs."

I had chills reading this passage. Joe was amazing :')

#HE SANG IRISH SONGS😭😭😭#band of brothers #joe toye #bofb #kirk acevedo #world war 2 #wwii #the battle of the bulge #easy company #101st airborne division

96 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 4 days

Text

Masters of the Air characters as aesthetics

John 'Bucky' Egan

Bucky was a golden hour, warm hues of gold and amber casting a soft, ethereal glow over everything. Giggles and banters over a sip of liquor. He was a low hum in a pub, filled with chatter and joy. Bucky was a worn sheepskin jacket, familiar and comforting. Waves crash against rugged cliffs, vivid colors pop against a backdrop of blue skiess. He was gentle and dominating, yet he asked to be taken care of behind closed doors. Back arching high against the bed sheet, hands pinned and left marks everywhere. He was a smoky jazz club alive with the sound of saxophones and clinking glasses, the sound of people laughing so loud until the stomach hurts. Grass stained knees. Running through the rain without an umbrella. He was classical music blasting from a cheap speaker. He was Apollo playing his instruments.

Gale 'Buck' Cleven

Buck was a calm before a storm. A misty forest enveloped in fog, with towering trees draped in moss and winding paths leading to hidden glens and secret clearings. He was both silent movies and thunderstorms that you'd feel inside your chest. Raised eyebrows and cold hands, pinching the bridge of your nose. Watching a painting a bit too long before the gallery was closed. Long walks to the library. Winter winds and freezing hands, subtle glances across the room. He was soft murmur of reassurance and a gentle touch behind the doors. Consensual and always asked if it's okay. Dark red lipstick, chilled red wine. A quaint cottage nestled in the countryside with a thatched roof and ivy-covered walls, surrounded by a garden bursting with fragrant herbs and vibrant flowers. He was Hestia tending the sacred flames.

Harry 'Croz' Crosby

Harry was the swirling feelings in your stomach night before a trip. A vintage typewriter sitting on a weathered wooden desk, surrounded by stacks of yellowing paper and antique books. The soft autumn sun. He was handwritten letters and cracked statues. Silver waves lapping at the shore and seashells scattered across the sand like scattered jewels. The rattling of rain against the window, messy and needed direction. He was scribbles and ink stains, messy notebooks, and the tea kettle whistling in the silent morning. He was urgent and hurry, but comforting afterwards. He was everything about pleasure behind closed doors. A disheveled bedroom with rumpled sheets and discarded clothing strewn across the floor, with posters peeling off the walls and sunlight filtering through grimy windows. He was Poseidon guarding with his trident.

Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal

Rosie was a vintage record player spinning vinyl records, filling the room with the warm crackle of music. He was sweet smiles and clear eyes. Paper planes. Overgrown rose bushes. That one song you always skipped but ended up loving it. He was tweed jackets and loose blouses. A field of wildflowers stretching out as far as the eye can see, with colorful blooms dancing in the breeze and the scent of earth and pollen filling the air. Gentle and nurturing, caring and soft behind the doors. He was a giver and always maintained satisfaction. He was pink-tinted blush. A pair of combat boots scuffed from countless adventures. Smiling at strangers on the street. He was all kind and modesty, but also Athena leading battles.

131 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 4 days

Text

NATE MANN as ROSIE ROSENTHAL in Masters of the Air.

#WOWSIEEEE #rosie rosenthal #masters of the air #nate mann

280 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 5 days

Text

#my baby #he'll be my eternal fictional crush #peter pevensie #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #chronicles of narnia #william moseley #pevensie #peterpevensie #narnia aesthetic #peter pevensie gif #the pevensies #tetrapost narnia #tetragifs #narnia peter

88 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 6 days

Text

Anyone from the Netherlands (The Hague, Leiden, or Utrecht area) interested in organising a meet up together for writers at a cafe or maybe a park now that the weather is getting nicer? Message me (:

#aaah i was in amsterdam last winter #its not that far #this is so cute i wish i could be there T_T

450 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 6 days

Text

In Sync

Rafe Cameron x F!Pogue!Reader

warning: 18+, smut, consensual sex, unprotected, foreplay, virgin reader (implied?), and yeah it's just all that. also no mention of (y/n)

words: 1k

note: this is a continuation from this fic where Rafe and reader were in an enemies-to-lovers situation, but you can read this fic separately since it's just them doing it for the first time after getting together

A Wave of Feelings (pt 1) | In Sync (pt 2)

You would laugh at yourself a month ago for the current situation.

You, a Pogue, slept with a Kook? And let alone the Rafe Cameron? The one who used to yell and throw remarks at you? The one who always got into a heated argument with you?

You couldn’t even bear to be in the same room with him and look at yourself now.

Laying down beside him, making out for the first time since twenty minutes ago with the blond. You could feel Rafe’s strong arms, how big and sturdy it was. You could smell his cologne, a perfect mixture of earthy vetiver, refreshing citrus notes, and salty sea breeze. It evoked the rugged beauty of Rafe, how reckless and impulsive he’d be, but also passionate and vulnerable.

You trembled at his touch, as Rafe kissed you harder. Your hand naturally, slowly reaching down, tracing his lower abdomen and making him twitch under your touch. You could hear a soft grunt coming from his lips, his breath becoming heavier. Your hand slipped under his pants, stroking slowly. Rafe let out a soft groan in pleasure, his hand gently petting the swell of your breast.

You gasped at the sudden pleasure. Butterflies washed your belly and you whimpered at the sensation of it. Desire flooded both of you that night.

“Oh, you stroke better than myself, Princess,” he said with a huff, before moaning louder because you felt the urge to stroke harder and faster. “You’re so good, Princess. Don’t stop.”

Rafe breathed heavily, kissing you harder. He bit your lips, touching his forehead on yours. “Oh, fuck. You’re so good,” he shuddered.

You stroke him hard and constantly, wiggling beside him. In between kisses, you couldn’t help but to moan as Rafe’s strong fingers brushed your nipple.

“I’m so close, Princess.”

It was not your first time together, but you always shuddered from the sensation. It felt warm on your hand, dripping to your wrist. You smiled when Rafe put half of his weight on her, panting.

“You’re so good,” he whispered before pushing you gently to the bed. He now towered over you, fully stripped of his pants. His hands softly helped Val to undo her shirt, throwing it to the floor as they don’t need it anymore for now.

You started to breathe heavily as adrenaline took you.

Slowly, Rafe got down, kissing your breast and closed his mouth around a nipple. His tongue swirled around yours, gently biting and sucking it. You gasped and shut your eyes tightly, fingers crawling Rafe’s bare shoulder.

“Rafe!”

You couldn’t help but cry his name. It was insane. He was insane.

“Yes, Princess?”

Rafe’s right hand traced your chest and belly and you shivered. He continued, finding a soft spot on your clit and rubbing it softly.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, unable to let out a full word. You tried so hard not to scream, biting your lower lip as he worked faster.

“Yeah? Do you like it?” Rafe asked, kissing your jaw and then your neck. He buried his face on the crook of your neck, moaning your name softly, “Gosh, you’re so wet, Princess.”

And it just flooded, you were down all over him. Bad.

“Good girl,” Rafe smiled, kissing your lips gently before he got up and spread your legs. He let you breath out first, letting out a whimper and a pleasure moan.

“You’re so beautiful,” he continued. He left you speechless.

You could see his handsome features from the dim light. Rafe exhaled, taking the view. You laid naked in front of him–under him.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he said in disbelief. “How did I miss this? How did I throw arguments when I could’ve just thrown myself at you?”

You chuckled, feeling the same. These past years, all you and Rafe exchanged were arguments and hatred. How you hated him so much, so much that you only thought of him. How you both eventually found each other in ways you couldn’t explain. How deep your connection actually was.

Rafe touched his cock, rubbing it slowly with his saliva. You gulped.

“It’s huge, Rafe,” you let out a shaky breath when Rafe put himself between your thighs. He started to caress yours with his fingers, before he brushed your fold with his tip softly.

You moaned, “Rafe–”

“It’s going to hurt a little,” he said softly, as gentle as he could. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

Then Rafe pushed it gently, slowly letting himself relax inside her. The anticipation made you squirm and held the sheet tightly, suppressing another whimper.

“Rafe!” a moan slipped out of your mouth, screaming his name in pleasure and pain. “I have never taken anyone before.”

Your eyes were shut, back arching.

“Eyes on me, Princess.”

You tried to open your eyes, looking directly at him. Shivers went down your spine, it felt so good.

“Oh, you’re so tight,” Rafe let out a soft grunt as he started to hump his hips towards yours. His hands were everywhere, you were not surprised anymore.

Rafe can be rough, but this time he was very gentle.

“Yes,” you gasped. “Don’t stop. Please. Please.”

Rafe lowered his body, still humping. His mouth searched for your nipple, as he licked and swirled it softly. Rafe kept sucking, biting and leaving red marks on it. Chills ran down your spine when he humped faster.

“Yeah? Do you like it, baby?” Rafe asked you as you tried to take his hard cock. You closed her eyes in pleasure, still unable to answer.

“Answer me, Princess.”

“Y–Yes, please,” you pleaded. He was so good. You clenched around his cock, and another groan slipped from him. He’d be surprised how your bones didn’t break with your back arching high like that.

“You’re so wet for me, Princess. You’re so good,” he kept reassuring you as your head spinned with pleasure and desire. You both moved in sync, as you could feel his cock twitched hard inside you.

“Oh, I’m going to come,” his voice was deep and breathless, as he spurted on the bare skin of your stomach. Rafe moaned, loud, losing breath. He jerked and it spread all over your tummy, some was on the sheet. It was intense and addicting.

“Oh, fuck. Orgasm never felt this good,” Rafe lost himself in pleasure, shutting his eyes before bending down and kissing your lips. “You’re such a good girl.”

You smiled. “I wish we’d be fucking instead of fighting all those times.”

427 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 6 days

Text

these are so rafe coded

355 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 7 days

Note

the way you characterize bucky is chefs kiss. the playful banter between him and reader was genuinely so fun to read i actually love your writing so much 😫

hii sweet Anon! thank you so much, you're so kind >_<

I see him as a perfect mixture of sunshine and a wildcat, always a pleasure to write him! will definitely create more of Bucky's fic in the future.

thanks a lot for stopping by and I wish you a good day!<3

#answered #thank you anon <3 #bucky egan #masters of the air

1 note · View note

tetragonia · 7 days

Text

thinking about him (trent crimm the independent)

275 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 7 days

Text

okay but hand placement tho

#bridgerton #netflix #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #shondaland #bridgerton netflix #p #polin #penelope x colin #nicola coughlan #luke newton #tv: bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #hand placement

50 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 7 days

Text

“I’m in.”

More chibis

#CUTE #masters of the air #clegan

382 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 7 days

Text

If I ever saw a jealous man it has to be John "Bucky" Egan.

This photo is so funny to me, it doesn't even feel like a bts pic it just looks like a normal day in the Stalag poor Buck can't go five steps away from his jealous bf, if he does he will be sulking in the background.

#NO THIS IS TOO FUNNY #bucky egan

293 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 7 days

Note

Hello! I don't know if you have open requests and this is not my language but I wanted to request Peter Pevensie reacting to deleting his kisses as a joke. Thank you anyway!

hii Anon! thanks for requesting this prompt, it's so cute (also since Peter was my childhood crush, this isn't a hard one to write)! I'm going to write this as a fic, I hope you don't mind<3

Peter Pevensie x F!Reader headcanons

warning: none, pure fluff

You were on a picnic on the beach, feeling the summer wind hit your face

You laughed as the wind suddenly flew Peter’s hat. You got up and reached it, extending your hand to give it back to him

“Thanks, dear.” Peter pulled you down, kissed your cheek

Your eyes sparkled with mischief, wiping your cheek where he kissed you. “Your lips feel warm, it’s a hot day already.”

Peter raised his eyebrows, “Oh, you're quite the mischief-maker, aren't you?"

He looked at you, trying to figure things out. You were unable to hold your laughter as he grabbed your arm

But you were quick: you got up and ran away from him, bare feet touching the warm and soft sand

Peter ran after you, “Oh, you’re going to pay for that, Ma’am.”

Your laugh rang as he grabbed your waist, spun you to fully facing him. He ran his fingers through your disheveled hair, loosen braids hitting the wind.

“Now, why did you wipe my kiss?”

“Because it was warm.”

“That doesn't even make sense," Peter countered your argument. You laughed in his embrace

"You’re infuriating,” you giggled.

Peter rolled his eyes, before smiling and kissing you on the lips.

#peter pevensie #william moseley #the pevensies #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #narnia peter #peter pevensie fic #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie imagine #peter pevensie fanfiction #peter pevensie x f!reader #peter pevensie headcanon #narnia x reader #narnia imagine #narnia x you #peter pevensie x you #narnia fic #narnia fanfiction

27 notes · View notes

tetragonia · 8 days

Text

NOTHING'S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER

summary reader gets injured while looking out for the team and simon riley worries.

cw descriptive scenes of reader getting injured, cod canon violence, stab wounds & blood loss, worried!simon riley. angst!!!!! hurt with tiny bit of comfort (from simon to reader) NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. tell me if i missed anything!

a/n is this deserving of a part two? does it feel rushed? is THIS really how i want to enter the cod mw2 fandom!?!! so many questions.

masterlist | taglist

"Ghost," you spoke his name in a hushed tone, mainly to hide from the enemy but also to hide the shake in your voice.

"I'm here, Owl. I'm coming to get ya." You could hear Ghost running, and you tried to focus on the sounds he made instead of the stinging pain on your thigh and side.

It was your fault. All of it. You were supposed to be on the roof, not on the goddamn ground. You're a sniper, for fuck's sake. But being above ground, you spotted two men making their way to where the team's getaway car was. You weren't allowing them to steal your vehicle, but if you shot at them, it would alert the others, and your position would've been compromised.

You knew how to fight. Although you never liked engaging the enemy face to face and your eyes were better used above ground, thus why you were a sniper and why they called you Owl, Ghost and Soap trained you to take down men as big as them.

The first man went down quickly, he was skinny, and you surprised him. He was gurgling on his one blood in seconds. The second guy pinned you to the wall. You took your second knife from your right thigh strap and pierced his stomach twice. He was slipping from your grasp when you felt the knife you'd used on him puncture your thigh.

You screamed. A shriek left your mouth before you could stop it. Your thigh throbbed as you landed a final blow on the side of the man's neck. You stumbled off the wall, blinking the tears and black dots away. You heard someone call your name through comms, but you didn't have time to answer.

The third man came behind you. He must've heard you scream. He circled his buff biceps around your throat and squeezed. Fight and flight kicked in. Andrenaline was pumping in your bloodstream, and, without thinking twice, you bit his bicep. Hard.

He cursed and moved away from you for a split second, and you got a chance to suck in a breath. You stumbled forward, but he caught you, spinning you around and pulling you so impossibly close.

At first, you didn't feel it. A shot rang out, and his body slumped forward, distracting you. The man was dead in your arms, and his blood had splattered on your face and continued spilling on your shoulder. Your head shot up to your station—that's where the gunshot had come from. Gaz asked you if you were okay. You tried to nod, and that's when you felt it.

Your ears started ringing. You stepped back, the man falling completely from your grasp and onto the ground. You choked on your breath. Your hand instinctively fell to your side and then rose in front of your face. You were bleeding from two places now.

Gaz called for you again, but you didn't answer. You felt dizzy, and as much as you tried blinking those black spots away, they just wouldn't go. You leaned against the wall. Ghost ordered your whereabouts, and Gaz answered him hurriedly, adding that he could see you losing consciousness. So, that's who shot from your position. Ghost confirmed that he was coming your way.

And that's how you ended up in this position.

"Please, hurry." Your cry of pain made the lieutenant's pace pick up.

Ghost always had some sort of a soft spot for you. Your kind-hearted, friendly nature and bubbly personality didn't help his growing infatuation. You were too sweet for your own good, and he swore your sarcastic comments directed mostly at Soap always managed to melt his heart.

The guys weren't oblivious—they could see how Ghost always stared at you. His hard eyes seemed to soften when looking at you. Actually, his whole posture changed when you were around. Ghost was always near you, a soft hand placed on your lower back and guiding you when you were in the dark during missions, and glances were thrown at you when you were too quiet to make sure you were doing okay.

Soap and Gaz had joked about his fascination with you, asking him why he never made a move. He'd shut them down and called them inappropriate before lowering his head to hide how flustered he felt. He thought burying those teenage sentiments at the very back of his mind would be the best. He's never been good at expressing his feelings, and for fuck's sake, he was your superior.

But as he heard your breath come out in gasps and Gaz telling him to hurry up through comms, he felt panic inside him. His steps became more urgent, and his grip on the gun tightened. He was almost there.

"Don't move. I'm coming to get you." Ghost's voice was filled with utter panic and anxiety, and he took a breath to get rid of the shake in his tone. "I'm almost there, darlin'."

Fuck.

He hadn't meant for that to slip out. He heard your breath hitch. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

He turned the corner, and there you were, slumped on the wall, holding your side with your palm and breathing heavily. He placed his gun in its holster and ran toward you. You collapsed with a groan, your forehead touching his vest.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I'm so sorry. They were—They were trying to escape with our c-car, and I couldn't let—I couldn't let them—" You gasped for breath as Ghost looked around at the dead bodies.

It was dark, but he could make out three silhouettes, definitely larger frames than yours, and they all lay dead in a puddle of their own blood.

"It's okay, it's alright, love. I'm here now. I'm not goin' anywhere." A soft whimper escaped your lips, and he felt your body give in to the fatigue caused by the blood loss.

Ghost picked you up, requesting the rest of the team to meet him at his location. The car was unlocked and untouched, and his heart swole with pride. You'd taken out three soldiers to protect the team and secure their getaway transportation.

You mumbled his name as he placed you in the backseat. He quickly got in, and pulled you in his arms again, one palm pressing on your wounded side and the other on your bleeding thigh.

Soap slipped in the driver's seat, Gaz following right behind him. "How's she doing, Lt.?" The former asked, glancing behind him once.

"She'll be fine if you move this goddamn car!" Ghost's tone was sharp, but Soap didn't take it personally.

"Where to, Ghost?" John asked.

"The safe house. Make sure no one follows us. As soon as we're in the clear, Gaz, you call Price. Tell 'im to send evac." Gaz nods curtly, followed by a yes, sir.

"Simon." You shift, snuggling closer to his body.

The frown on your face deepens. Simon looks down at you. His heart hasn't stopped its rapid beating, and worry mixed with panic is still swirling in his blood. He wants to tell John to hurry the fuck up, but he knows the soldier is going as fast as possible.

You whine in distress, your eyes blinking ever so slowly. Your ears ring, your gaze is unfocused, and your eyes are glassy with tears ready to fall.

"Shh, it's alright, love," Simon whispers. "You're goin' be okay."

"Am I dying?" You speak in hushed panic.

Simon shakes his head quickly from side to side as if your words burned him. "No, you're fine. Nothing that can't be fixed, okay? I can fix it." He's trying to convince himself more than he's trying to convince you.

"Are they after us?" He shakes his head again. "So, we're safe? I'm safe?"

"Nothing's gonna hurt you. As long as I'm here, no one's hurting you again, ya hear me?" The finality in his voice is the reassurance you need to soothe you.

You feel your eyes drooping again, and the ringing in your ears finally fades out. "Thank you, Simon."

previous | next

#simon riley

6K notes · View notes