#humvees

The Character I See You As: Leia Organa. I love this girl, she’s a jack-of-all-trades kind of person, very analytical, decisive; she has some flair to her, but she’s incredibly intelligent and hard-working. She’s just. She’s badass. Also clueless in romance. Don’t tell me that Han didn’t completely thrown her off, she was too busy with the rebellion.

Your Three Best Friends: Rey, Finn, Han Solo

The One You Don’t Get Along With: ANAKIN SKYWALKER LMFAO. I took the easy way out. Shoot me for it.

Who I Ship You With: Poe Dameron! My saucy pilot. I love this guy so freaking much, and he has so much extraness to compete with you. But what I love about Poe is that he’s not as inherently selfish as Han is (thought I was gonna pair you with Han? U THOUGHT). Poe is caring and maybe even a little awkward about this whole thing (he, shockingly, doesn’t have a long history of dating), but not afraid to make it known that you are absolutely and completely his. And eventually, when you get him out of his shell, he’s SUCH A ROMANTIC I just. I love POE.

Wildcard: Rebel, born and raised on Coruscant.

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The Character I See You As: Nate Fick! I love the INTJ personality because we’re talking natural leaders, but good, solid leaders. Generally they’re either the best heroes or the worst villains, you feel? Quick, imaginative and strategic mind? High self-confidence (enough that you’re comfortable leading, doesn’t mean that you’re an extrovert or… you know what I mean), independent, hard-working, but a little arrogant (listen, you are more QUALIFIED THAN EVERYONE EL-), occasionally judgemental but open-minded, I MEAN. Nate, as wonderful as he is, can be just a “smidge” sassy and absolutely sees himself as better suited as a leader compared to others (ahem, Sixta). I love Nate, because he’s confident enough to be comfortable leading, but he’s friendly and trusts his guys and I just. NATE.

Your Three Best Friends: Brad Colbert, Ray Person, Walt Hasser

The One You Don’t Get Along With: Trombley. Trombley gets the job done, don’t get me wrong, but his careless attitude is troubling, because you care about how you get the job done. You care about your impact and how others see you. Trombley is not afraid to make mistakes it doesn’t seem, in fact, almost eager. Insensitive would be the word.

Who I Ship You With: BRAD. OH MY GOD. The pairing. The “it” couple. I’m crying. I love Brad, because Brad is the more emotional of the pairing (though he won’t admit it, Brad is very easily affected by what he sees on the job, he just compartmentalizes well). And Nate is always there for him. And the same would be for you two, gravitating towards each other inbetween missions to debrief, making sure the other is okay, taking care of each other. And the best thing about the romance is that there is actually very minimal romance, because neither of you are mushy. Instead you have a deep, emotional bond that keeps you from breaking apart. And you aren’t necessarily afraid of physical touches either, but it’s all very purposeful, direct, and all of it means something.

Wildcard: Rifleman. Corporal. Bravo Company.

LIL BLURB: You had no idea what your next mission was going to be, and you knew you needed to enjoy the lull in action. And yet you were restless after the last recon mission through Iraq, feeling frustrated, wrapping your hands around the barrel of your weapon. The incompetence of your fellow marines, the way the last mission had gone, was like a thorn in your side. When you had joined the military, you had expected to do great things, not leave a burning wake behind you. Would they really remember you as a hero?

You tried not to think about the victims of the bombs that had fallen. You knew there was some greater good involved in what you were doing, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t getting to you. The sand was getting to you, the hot wind chafing your cheeks was getting to you, the sweat beading on your forehead and underneath your helmet, it was getting to you. Months and months since you had been in the states. You were missing your favorite foods, but you would never admit it, not to the men.

You found yourself laying flat in the sand. You swore you could see the heat radiating off of your body. Lord, what you would give for cold lemonade, soda, tea–

“Getting your tan on?”

That familiar voice struck you, and you sat up, the smallest of smiles flickering across your face. “I think I’m burning.” You wiped your face with the back of your hand and squinted up at Brad. He was smiling down at you, not moving, just taking you in. You shivered, spreading your arms out in the dry shrubs and sand, digging your fingers into the soil.

“You think it’ll all be okay?” Brad posed the question a little too innocently, casual–he was wearing a mask of indifference. If things were bothering you, you knew they must have been bothering him. “It’s been sort of a mess,” Brad finally rumbled, slowly moving to sit down next to you, shoulder brushing shoulder, both hands threaded in the sand. He didn’t look at you, you knew he was being shy. Somehow, you both ended up in a sort of daily debriefing together as the sun began to descend.

“Yeah, it’ll be okay, Brad,” you replied. “We just gotta do what we gotta do, then we get to leave.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to comfort him as much as yourself, but he nodded anyway, seemingly satisfied by the response. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m worried about Trombley’s behavior,” he admitted, but said nothing else.

“Yeah, so am I. Just watch out for him, Brad, it’ll be alright. I trust you with him out of everyone.”

He bumped your shoulder with his and nodded, reaching to pat your hand with his. “You okay?”

“Of course.”

“You sure?”