#parallels are paralleling

[karihighman]

protective reassurance™️: a tim bradford thing (aka: a comforting hand over lucy chen’s head to make sure she feels safe & secure 🥲❤️)

[its-de]

THE HAND GESTURE 😭❤️

[imbzdrnst]

i'm-

[heretherebedork]

Yak learned to love from watching Yei and Cher: aren't parallels beautiful?

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Might throw myself into the sun

They really really did just parallel the Buck bisexual awakening scene (the Tommy first kiss scene) with what appears to be a Buck feelings realisation scene as he sits on the Diaz couch.

Buck in blue and Eddie in Black shot with Red - just like Buck was in blue and tommy in black shot with red in 704 - all I do is win with colour theory and costume theory!

The denim is brighter blue than the navy shirt from 704 and denim is connected to the idea of family - especially in the Diaz and Buckley Diaz family’s (I will write a meta about it now were on hiatus!). Brighter is good - brighter means happier when it comes to Buck and blue.

Eddie’s shot shirt was more black thanTommys red - suggesting we still have a little way to go for Eddie

Buddie is coming and I am screaming so loudly

[halfshelley]

mentally I'm still here

[henrysglock]

this poor kid keeps getting pushed over

[thewayuarent]

Okay I’ve DEFINITELY seen that one before

[pressradio]

I just wonder if Charles ever looked at Ollie and saw his younger self.

[kingtomura]

mha spoilers //

all feet jokes aside, if not Tenko then who else could this be? The nose is too familiar, the POSE with the hands on the wall is Very familiar. There are so many parallels it’s silly to think it would be anyone else. I’m more curious than ever now to see the story of how this mystery man ended up in this situation in the first place.

Guess we’ll have to wait and see

[karihighman]

some things never change matter more 👀🛻 chenford parallels: 2x14 vs. 7x16 of the rookie

[jackwhiteprophetic]

Something about this mannequin in Chris's room

[heretherebedork]

It's the two hugs, the way Ming holds on and then steps back to look at Joe and how Sol clings so desperately, both of them begging him to stay with them and keep on living but Ming needing to be loved and Sol simply needing and Joe caught with both of them, caught in love and second chances and embraces and loss and strength and weakness and anger and hurt.

(Joe with Ming starts to soften but Joe with Sol is nothing but steely eyes.)

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Thinking thoughts about water and buddie and water bringing in change - washing away what came before.

How the tsunami essentially swept away friendship and left family in its wake.

How tsunami water is basically sewer water and came before buddie divorce era 1.0 and how we just got that callback with actual sewer water.

[r0ttenb0gb0dy]

10/10 Coda "Rex" Morelli

It didn't take long at that rate, hurtling towards something dangerously close to love at a speed that would make a Blue Angel blush.

They sort of, kind of, not really hated each other. It was a delicate dance of pointed words, followed up by all-too-soft touches in passing. A pat on the shoulder, a hand grasping at another, Rex’s boot nudging him under the table during meetings. It was almost annoying, actually, how quickly Rex warmed up to him completely and entirely.

Graves cared about Rex and after a long, long while of acting like he didn't see the potential, he gave Rex that promotion. Lieutenant. It felt almost wrong to give it to him over some other Shadows that had been there longer, but something deep within his chest told him that the loyalty Rex offered was to the bone. It wouldn't waver at the slightest hint of anger, come and go like the tide — it was ingrained in Rex’s very being to do what was best for Shadow Company.

The years seemed to move by in slow motion and fast forward all at once, watching Rex go from some skinny, sharp-toothed, afraid little thing with an attitude to a bulky, even shorter-fused firecracker of a Lieutenant. A pack of black cats in a red paper wrapper. He came running whenever Graves called, he went wherever he was told, did whatever he had to. The job got done, regardless of personal feeling or strife.

Rex was a force to be reckoned with.

He would kill for Graves with his bare hands. Rip and tear into flesh like it were paper if it meant that he could satisfy his Commander. The day that he obtained his, supposed to be, final promotion at Shadow Company was a horrific one. Coated in a thin layer of sweat and a thick layer of blood as he dug his knife out of the chest of the enemy in front of him, another thick splatter coating his face.

Graves decided right then and there, in the middle of a bombing run over their precise location, that if anyone was going to carry on the legacy of the company, God forbid anything happened to him, it would be Rex. The way he flickered his green eyes up to meet Graves’, his mask coated in blood, a wicked smile that showed from just the creases around his eyes.

Messy and raw, the way a leader should be.

Only a few moments were wasted being back at base when Graves said something, unable to bite his tongue as he watched Rex light a cigarette and take a long drag. He was still dressed in his full tactical gear, still covered in the red liquid that made his eyes that much more vibrant, black painted fingernails chipped as they idly picked at the dried blood.

“You know, I never would've thought I’d see you gut a man with a knife with the way you used to fight with one.” He starts, looking Rex up and down. Inspecting him, dissecting his features. “Used to be so scared of them things.”

“Yeah, well, things change. I got thicker skin.” Rex sort of shrugs, reaching up to yank his helmet off unceremoniously. Dark hair spilling out, streaks of grey more pertinent than they had been years prior. Roots all grown in a similar shade of grey, making the dark ends look that much darker. “I’m just doin’ my job.”

“You do more than that, though, and you know it. You always push that extra mile.” Graves replies, taking a seat next to Rex. He nabs the cigarette from his Lieutenant’s hand and takes a drag for himself before returning it. “Always have a goddamn smile on your face while you do it, too.”

“Always have, haven't I?” Rex chuckles.

“You hated me for a long time, don't act like you didn't.”

“Hmm? Who's to say I still don't?” They say in jest, shouldering Graves gently. The Commander almost laughs, shaking his head instead as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He has always despised the way that Rex can make his brain get all cross wired with just a few words, making any sense of control disappear in the instant it takes to make a witty remark. “I’m kidding, I…I don't think I could ever hate you. You’re my person, y’know?”

“Should start rethinkin’ your choices if I'm the person you choose to rely on.”

“Why’s that, huh?”

“You can rely on yourself in this world, that's about it.” Graves replies, his hands behind his head now, fingers interlocked. He’s deep in his thoughts when Rex places a hand on the broad surface of his back, gently rubbing circles in some form of comfort. Graves couldn't quite place why he needed that little comfort, but it was welcome all the same. “Really wormed yourself into my head, y’know that?”

“So that means I’m your person, too, right?”

“My Achilles heel.” Graves mumbles under his breath with a combination of disdain and admiration.

“Romantic.” Rex replies with a little smirk crossing their expression. “It always comes back to a tragedy with us, doesn't it?”

“Does it?” Graves looks up to meet Rex’s eyes, finding that charming little smile. Warm, cozy like a cup of tea on a particularly cold morning. He chooses to ignore the usage of ‘us’ in order to hear Rex’s explanation.

“I mean, Achilles was arrogant towards anyone else that looked his way, anyone except Patroclus. He mourned nothing more in life than the death of Patroclus, you know that? They were cremated and placed in the same urn.” Rex states in a matter of fact tone, though Graves’ mind is elsewhere from his deadpan delivery. It’s on the fact that he, too, would mourn nothing more than losing Rex. The Company could burn, the country could burn, he just needed Rex to be alive. He hadn't realized it outright until then that he relied on Rex so heavily, but years of close knit attachment will do that. He couldn't imagine the Company without him. “History books call them best friends. A general and his soldier.”

“What do you call them?”

“Lovers.” Rex hums softly, flicking the ash off of their cigarette. “But I mean, Roman soldiers had a very strange relationship with each other, so…maybe I’m just reading too far into it.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Graves murmurs, thinking for all of two seconds before he puts an arm around Rex. “How about us? Commander and Lieutenant Commander?”

“Hah — you're somethin’ else, y’know? I’m trying to be nice to you and it comes back to some power dynamic.” Rex laughs. Graves is entirely serious.

“You’d inherit the Company, should anything ever happen to me. I don't think that's something ‘best friends’ do, though.” Graves shrugs, all too playful in his wording, the same way Rex is. They rubbed off on each other a miserable amount. Briefings have become interesting, that's for sure, with two equally witty men at the head of the table.

Both too confident to admit what they're both trying to.

“Are you trying to tell me you love me, Philip Graves?” Rex says with a teasing tone, dragging their hand up Graves' arm. Tracing over the Shadow Company insignia embroidered on the sleeve, Shadow 0-1 right below it. His matches, 0-2.

“Maybe. Is that a bad thing?”

“Oh, terrible.” Rex replies, nestling themselves up against Graves as they finish the smoldering cigarette between their middle and ring fingers. “I thought we're only supposed to rely on ourselves, lest we succumb to the tragedy of needing another person?”

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

“Hypocrite.” Rex mumbles, whilst Graves gently rests his head against theirs, hesitating to let himself get close.

“I know, darlin’. Can you love me anyways?”

“Depends, will you leave me to run this place by myself?”

“Not if I can help it. As long as I’m breathing you won't ever have to be alone again.”

Bold words. A tall order. Both are firm believers that nothing could ever come to pass to separate them, not permanently.

“Promise?” Rex asks, holding out their pinky finger. Graves’ locks with it, as childish as it feels.

“Promise.”

—

epic conclusion . this is like... 3-4 years before MWII takes place bt dubs ! ill eventually try my hand at writing some rexxy insert fics for the campaign but im also incredibly lazy 💔😔

taggies @simonrriley the realest