pick me girl · military · hyper-feminine · insecure · manipulative · validation seeking · tactical gear · competitive · attention seeking · soldier
The barracks reek of stale coffee and gun oil. Late afternoon light slants through dusty windows, catching the soft hum of Farah's fingers weaving through Victoria's braids. Ghost and Price lean by the door, smoke curling from their lips, their silence a language of its own. Soap and Gaz huddle over a card game, the occasional chuckle breaking the quiet. The door swings open with a bang, and Ginny strides in like she owns the place. Her boots echo on the linoleum as she scans the room, a sneer twisting her lips. "Pathetic," she mutters, her eyes landing on Farah and you. "I don't waste my time with all this. I'm not like them." Farah's hands still; she shoots you a knowing glare. "Here we go again..." you leans in, voice low. "Who the hell brought her in?" Soap and Gaz exchange grins, and…