nonzero people podcasting about goosebumps the musical & it’s never enough. neither extensive enough nor enthusiastic enough & that’s coming from me which is the entire explanation for the assessment.
on the same topic but a completely different point, i was just appreciating how extra fun i always find understudy buddy to be. and obviously i would like to think that maybe tina & the unit that is brooke & zeke are like, more neutral to amicable after the show lol. tina is a lot of fun as is, like, automatic shoutout to any character just being like, getting in the way being offputting / a pain and all powered by one’s own intensity, that’s fun & funny & who among us? and like yeah she’s also definitely doing the mean girl thing like, in the song as mentioned lmao like please, rein it in. and maybe she will, but then when other suspects are being kind of crossed off the list just before thee play she manages to just be regular supportive towards brooke, so that’s promising lol. and also just shoutout to the Fun of a lively antagonistic role, great stuff, delightful number for her there, and sure helping ramp things up. and zeke and brooke not just showing up for this one horror musical (also i would love to shoutout zeke’s plight there lmfao like, the experience of original readers of poto where the twist is “nah it’s not a phantom it’s just some wet pathetic guy” like he’s so hyped to be The Ghost Lead and then he’s like oh god i’m a romantic lead in a hole & i’m five & it’s embarrassing & i even know my counterpart irl (the bestie) like i guess technically the role’s a ghost by the end & good for the mystery mask wearing element being exciting still) but that they were unnamed ensemble members in guys & dolls & saw that through, they’re bringing support & appreciation for the theatre, & on the flipside tina might just enjoy the theatricality & attention from it but she was having a great time informing everyone that on top of their haunted school it’s a specifically haunted (cursed) play, so maybe she can also relate to zeke and brooke’s horror genre appreciation. and she might warm up at all to zeke when he’s cleared about the fact he wasn’t trying to prank their efforts into oblivion, at least to the same degree she can manage to provide regular supportiveness to brooke when it comes to it. and on the one hand, despite brooke and zeke sure seeming like that hell of an established unit like probably just have their [socializing at school] foundation covered by hanging out w/each other, they could let brian in on that easily enough for something of a triumvirate, but now not only are they bffs since 5ever who love a genre together, they sure had an Adventure in emile messing up by [you never try to scooby doo villain your way through it] but also doing it all wrong where they think You’re the danger here & that you’re going to murder them, plus it’s scary for real exploring the darkness elevator underground tunnels anytime, but also now they have this off the shits experience with that new guy friend who was a ghost for real. kind of its own bonding element & maybe you wouldn’t exactly let anyone else in on it, much less like, tina lmao. she might be interested in The Legend but she was also super interested in telling everyone all about it, and idk, difficult and weird to explain, thing it’d all be quite the stuff to process for one lol like sure we love drama and ghosts and attention too but it’s A Lot. ghosts are real and i online dated one except across time rather than space and he was just some guy hanging out and i also hung out with him sometimes but then in the end it got weird b/c he was the suspicious understudy all along and this role is really not coming through....but also hey, could talk about it all eventually, and tina’s got plenty of context already. next year’s cast n crew party for the last show, be like hey guess what, b/c we’re solidly amicable now also
plus being extracurricular buddies like, ms. walker head in hands dealing with these three menaces lmao....although zeke wasn’t Really up to that much, tina’s sure committed to the show, etc. and it’s like, being a student or teacher or anyone else at a middle school is just always gonna be like that. could really be worse, she can handle it. and maybe she can know of the lore also, she’s out here engaging in irl drama and lore about like avenging her grandmother’s theatrical aspirations, or none of this would be going on lol. get used to these three and actually they’re reliable really, maybe tina will have learned to better accept not getting the dream role, which will be an easier time for everyone. but it’s just always gonna be a handful lol but all these kids were also all about putting on the play too, actually, yes maybe some problems arose from messing around with the platform but they could’ve been worse problems (queues of ghosts in line for their turn at finally achieving one last goal of performing their part in this one damn play lol) and does seem like it’s engineering issues inherently rather than Just messing around backstage unsupervised which isn’t often otherwise going to be fatally risky, and maybe just give people a rundown about the riskiness of things that Isn’t emile’s botched effort where he mostly just made children afraid of Him. like idk, i did shop class throughout middle school, we avoided injury w/successful cautionary rundowns. brian’s one other last goal could’ve been about safety measures, but whaddaya gonna do. anyways point is, hanging out after school for theatre purposes and having an understanding and bonus patience affordance with the teacher in charge of this and maybe everyone gets to know the Real Ghost Story or maybe it’s zeke & brooke’s personal inside secret, it was already a shared adventure for all involved even if they didn’t get the Full story the way those two did, all of them are up for Drama and for Horror, they’re good to go. and good for them
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now im thinking about how you're technically johnny's wife of convenience but now also simon's girlfriend.
like maybe you're crazy but you do remember johnny telling you that you can see other people, just don't bring them home. but every time you try to, simon is there.
something always suspiciously happens when you're out, conveniently forcing you to cut the date short, and the one that picks you up is simon. he doesn't even let you walk yourself out either. he'll already be at your table, putting your phone and wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. and what's worse, with the one guy who didn't mind, the one who had asked for a raincheck, simon told him that you have a husband at home waiting for them with a warm dinner.
he chuckles under his breath at the guy's reaction— ashen face, wide eyes, and gaping mouth. "don't know what ya saw in tha' bloke anyway. he didn't even cover the bill." because simon stared at him until he skittered out the front door without a backward glance.
and then their dates. they're supposed to be a couple; you're just a front, so why do they keep taking you with them as a third wheel. is it an exhibitionist kink? because that's what it feels like every time they're together. it's all sloppy kisses, grabby hands and you swear that if you hadn't spun around and briskly walked away that one lazy saturday simon was home, they would've probably let you watch them fuck each other stupid on the living room carpet.
it's also hard to bring it up to johnny because either simon's there, leaning on the kitchen island with his arms crossed as he watches you exist, or is taking up far too much space on the couch so that if you want to sit there and watch the telly, you're obligated to press up against his massive thigh. (manspreading, simon? really? truly?) or you can't look him in the eye after listening to the headboard repeatedly slam against the wall all night. you can still hear johnny's moans curling around the edges of your very conscious.
then, you meet the rest of the 141: a tall, broad bear of a man with the ocean in his eyes and an iconic mutton chop beard. john price, he'd rumbled as he shook your hand. and then the other one, a devastatingly pretty man with chocolate-brown eyes, a small scar on his cheek, and perfect, white teeth. kyle, the boys call me gaz. a pleasure. he'd grabbed your hand with both of his as he also shook it.
johnny doesn't stick around, excusing himself quickly as he takes a phone call but simon does. he stands directly behind you— a suffocating presence a silent guardian— so close you can feel his body warmth on the expanse of your back.
little close there, eh simon?
no' at all, boss.
once he starts showing up at your college with lunch, you feel like your patience is dangling by a fragile, whisper-thin thread so you confront him directly.
only to have him shut you down in seconds.
what's johnny's is mine. now sit, i know ya didn't eat breakfast this mornin'.
at least he brought you your favorite meal:}
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big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.
if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.
and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.
so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.
it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?
granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.
jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.
until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.
because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.
by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.
it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.
and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.
johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?
he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.
"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.
"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."
he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.
besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.
but–
"are you a doctor?"
"n-no."
"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."
he just can't help himself.
over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.
his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.
on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.
then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.
"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?
"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."
"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."
and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:
you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"
ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.
"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.
"hm."
"is this how it usually-"
"sometimes."
"oh."
"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.
a few moments later, you speak up again.
"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."
he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.
"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."
you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."
and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.
if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.
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