HELP

awww love this sm omggg

Change of plan

Price being a dad and Simon being autistic, with a side of Ghoap, enjoy!

Captain Price was absent from training. Actually, every Captain and higher was absent from everything. They had one of those monthly meet ups where they learned about useless things no one wants to know. Maybe it was the administration team sharing their suffering with them?  

Anyways, everyone was dozing off. Some were like teenagers trying not to get caught playing games on their phones, others were taking a nap and some rares were actually listening.  

Captain Price was about to doze off, not fully listening, but not asleep just yet.  

‘’... And as we said last meeting the MREs will be changed for the new formula. The crates will arrive next week so we ask that you help clear out any old MREs, as they will be considered unregulated. ‘’ 

Price’s head shot up when he heard that statement, looking almost terrified.  

‘’Something to say, Price?’’  

The man shook his head, his voice would be too strained to be convincing. Already, he was reliving an old nightmare.  

When the meeting ended, he immediately went to the kitchen to steal every old formula MREs he could find, putting them in a special stash that every staff of the kitchen knew not to touch. He did the same for every other place that gave away MREs.  

The stash looked glorious, if he was honest. But he couldn’t quite be proud of himself, the dread of the coming storm weighing on him.  

And it weighed on him for the next week, when they brought the new crates. Then every day after that. His pile was getting smaller every day, and no one was prepared for what was coming.  

… 

Two weeks later. The stash is empty. It’s about to begin.  

The first meal was given to Ghost, and Price sweated as he observed his (son)soldier. Ghost frowned at the meal that was given to him at the cafeteria. Yeah, usually soldiers are given a plate and warm food if they’re not out in the field. But Ghost was a man of routine, and for some reasons he preferred eating MREs every day rather than break that routine.  

He kept frowning as he sat down next to Soap. He looked at the package, noticing every difference. Opened it, groaned at the unusual side dishes given. Usually, he’d get dry crackers with a nutty paste to put on it, as well as a dry cookie and the main meal. This time, he got a fucking pop tart with a granola bar.  

He threw the offending items aside and focused on the main dish. A ratatouille... Something he’d never been served in an MRE before.  

And Price witnessed Ghost get up without eating, throwing everything in the trash.  

He didn’t show up at the next meal. And the next, Price had to ask Soap to find him and get him to eat at least something.  

The hunger must’ve gotten hard to deal with, because the next day he showed up at lunch and got his usual. He sat down, frowning, and opened the MRE. At least now he knew it would be different. He still grimaced at the pop tart, but at least got the main dish warm and tried to taste it. It was a gratin, hard to miss.  

Wrong.  

Ghost only took a couple of bites before he threw the whole thing out.  

The granola bar was the next victim.  

And Jesus was Ghost annoying when his routine was broken up, even worse when he was hungry. He’d snap at everyone, fight on sight and got more violent the more he felt weakened by the lack of nutrients.  

‘’Price, what’s going on with Ghost? He’s barely eating and he almost broke someone’s arm during sparring!’’  

‘’I know... It’s the new MREs, we just have to endure it until he gets used to it.’’ Price sighed, but Soap’s look of confusion didn’t change. He couldn’t blame him. The first time it happened Price was certain that it was a PTSD attack. Ghost had sent a handful of soldiers to the hospital for simply brushing against him.  

‘’He’s like this because of the MREs? What’s different about them?’’  

‘’I don’t know, ask him he’d probably tell you all about it.’’ Price sounded tired, and he was. He knew Ghost couldn’t help it, but it was still a tiring dance.  

But weirdly, Soap did just that.  

The next meal, he sat next to Ghost and waited for a sign of discontent. It came fast, and Soap asked what was the matter. At first, he received short answers, but it seemed like a dam broke when he asked ‘’What’s so different about them?’’.  

And boy, no one ever heard Ghost speak so much. Soap hadn’t understood all that was said, but he understood that there was too much protein additives into it, changing the taste, as well as American brands forcing themselves in there. There was also something about ‘’changing the classic recipes’’...  

But while Ghost was ranting about it, he actually finished eating his meal without noticing. He was also way less grumpy during the next hours. When the next meal came, he didn’t eat it all, and went back to his gloomy self.  

So, Soap asked the next day. And the day after. Eventually Ghost got used to the new meals and everything went back to normal.  

Except that if anyone dared to mention the weird taste of the MREs, Ghost appears out of nowhere to explain exactly why that is.  

--- 

Bonus:  

‘’... It should take you two weeks, solo, minimum communication. If you do it well it can take one week only. Are you in? ‘’  

Price was looking intensely at Ghost for any sign of emotion in his eyes. They were in his office, lights off.  

‘’I said, are you in?’’ technically, he knew he was in. But he always had to make sure his soldiers understood the mission and accepted to take part. 

‘’I don’t know, Captain. Will the green tea be refilled when I come back?’’  

The green tea?...  

‘’Oh for fuck’s sake Simon!’’ Price had accidentally bought black tea instead of green when he had to refill the box. Actually, it wasn’t on accident, there was just no more of the usual green tea so he took black tea from the same brand.  

‘’You’re a bloody nightmare! Yes it will be refilled properly!’’  

Ghost straightened up a bit, nodding.  

‘’Then I accept the mission.’’ Smug bastard. 

-----

This is 100% inspired by my reaction to new meals

Also I said I wouldn't write anymore but with school I don't have much time to draw, so writing it is

Hey, so I have trouble sleeping, and I'd love for you to do a post inspired by him helping a teammate on a rough night. Thanks! :)

Absolutely, anon! I've been having trouble sleeping lately too, so here it goes.

Simon “Ghost” Riley headcanons! (Helping a teammate through a rough night version)

1. He doesn’t ask questions.

If you show signs of distress, he doesn’t press. He just sits nearby, present and silent, giving you the space to breathe without judgment.

2. Quiet presence.

He won't speak unless you do. Sometimes he’ll just hand you a water bottle or a warm drink and sit on the floor beside your bunk, mask tilted like he’s listening—even if you’re not saying anything.

3. Hyper-aware.

Ghost picks up on changes in body language fast. Tension in your shoulders? Avoiding eye contact? Sleepless at 0300? He notices.

4. No pity, just understanding.

He doesn’t give you the “it’s going to be okay” speech. Instead, you’ll get something like, “I’ve had nights like that too.” And somehow, that means more.

5. The tactical blanket drop.

If he sees you curled up and shivering, he won’t make a scene. he’ll just toss a blanket over your shoulders like it’s an accident and walk away brfore you can thank him.

6. Shared silence.

Sometimes he just sits down across from you and starts cleaning his gear. No talking. No staring. Just existing in the same quiet space, showing you you're not alone.

7. Smoke break companion.

Even if he doesn’t want one, he’ll light a cigarette just to step outside with you. Offers the lighter without a word. Keeps watch while you stare into the dark.

8. Grounding instincts.

If he sees your hands shaking, he might hand you something small... his lighter, a coin, a shell casing. Something to focus on. You don’t even have to ask.

9. Sharp memory.

He remembers what helps you calm down. The song you hum, the snack you keep stashed, the way you breathe when you’re trying to get through a wave of panic. And he adapts.

10. The unspoken follow-up.

The next day, he doesn’t bring it up. But he hands you a protein bar, nods once, and keeps walking. Like saying, “You’re still here. That’s all that matters.”

Masterlist

Ghost always having to step in when Soap is meeting a new lieutenant, because he's a demolitions expert and other teams need him, but he has an... affinity for butting heads with these superior. Unless Ghost tells him not to. Unless Ghost makes it very clear that he, simon, holds Soap's leash, not this new lieutenant. Soap will follow orders to the extent of it's sensibility

shitpost art study with Ghosty

i think simon's hair would get pretty scruffy when it grows out on leave...

(speedpaint under the cut!)

his dead fish eyes and silly mask intrigue me

I love the idea of Simon being a lovey dovey man, but him being more emotionally absent/not *really* there (in a sense that hes physically there but not THERE. yk?) is more realistic, at least before he learns, i can imagine he was taught this way bcs of his father,

simon, who takes you for granted.

simon, who got used to sleeping the problems away, and waking up in the morning to tea made just for him. you always add honey, and he's got used to the aftertaste

neither of you talk about it. he doesn't mention it, for one, and you never seem to hold it against him in the morning, so he always keeps quiet. it's peaceful like that. comfortable

simon, who doesn't feel the need to hold you at night because you're always upset, no matter what he does or what he says, so he gives you space

simon, whose eyes wander from time to time, lingering

you, and the way your hands stop reaching out to him one day

simon, who doesn't understand it when you bring up divorce

you, packing your bags and leaving him with a small smile. you don't text, you don't come back, you give no explanation

goodbye

simon, who can only sip his whiskey, hoping it can numb the growing pain in his chest

and it hits him, weeks later, that you meant it

you're done

simon, who is alone again

buy me a coffee

nothing more flattering than someone saying "oh don't get her going" in reference to you when a topic you're passionate about is brought up

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Credits:

@yumethefrostypanda

Roxana Silva- Pinterest

I know last pic is Ai but I found it hot so I posted.

LOVE

allistic simon x autistic reader was just so heartwarming and relatable to read as i’m someone with the tism that often feels like a burden on others. it was so lovely, feeling like simon didn’t want to change the reader as a person or expect anything unreasonable of them, but rather accommodate them where he can. i also liked that he didn’t have to compromise himself and was able to do an activity he likes, but also care for reader! all around just really enjoyed the piece.

if i may, i’d love to request something where one of the reader’s safe foods/essential items is out of stock or being discontinued and how simon would help them navigate that situation. one of my fave essentials just got discontinued and i’m devastated lol ♥︎

hi there! i'm very happy that you enjoyed my first autistic reader piece. i'm sorry that your safe food is out of stock ): i get fairly frustrated when i can't have access to things that comfort me. i apologize in advanced for the subpar writing that will ensue this message.

allistic simon x autistic!reader: crisis averted

in which your lovely husband attempts to help you navigate the sudden unavailability of your safe food.

simon came back from his meeting on base a bit winded and more confused than when he'd originally left the home. the meeting was a cooperative planning session involving KorTac, and your husband failed to keep up with the newly-introduced objectives and profiles. his head hurt, frankly. the entire meeting he'd only been wondering what you'd been up to and if you missed him. when he finally entered your shared home, he was relieved to have the workday slide right off his broad, strong shoulders.

simon hummed as he heard the tapping of your PC keyboard, knowing you'd likely well into a deep dive of one of your special interests. he took off his boots by the door and calmly took steps toward the study, whistling as he walked. his eyes fell upon you in the throws of your own world of wonder, irises blown as you took in the information before you. Simon cleared his throat to grab your attention, and you peeled yourself away briefly to greet him. ,"hey Si," you hummed back distractedly, and your husband chuckled in response. "hi lovie," he grinned at you, moving to stand beside you and take in the media you were consuming. he stands there for a moment, enjoying your company, before he decides to trek to the kitchen for a snack.

simon peers around the area for signs of your appetite, signs that you had been feeding yourself and staying hydrated. he was met with an empty sink and dishwasher, and the items in the fridge looked untouched. the water filter was exactly as full as when he left this morning. he sighed, shaking his head before a lightbulb went off. maybe we're out of [food item]. that could do it, he thinks to himself, treking to the pantry to confirm the item was missing. he padded back into the study to greet you again, politely asking for your attention.

when you spin around to see a frowning Simon you instinctively feel puzzled, and of course Simon can tell by the way you stare at him blankly. "lovie, you didn't eat today?" he's soft when he speaks to you, ensuring that you don't feel scolded or punished. Your lover has been so understanding of your mannerisms, fully aware that your appetite was fickle and sometimes undetectable. you shook your head in response, words lost on you as you tried to recall your last meal. "there's no food item so I can't really eat right now," you responded cooly, and Simon nods his head in response. usually he'd kept up with the supply of your items, and he was honestly quite shocked that this wasn't upsetting you as much as he'd always imagined it would. he didn't want to press the issue, but he was mildly concerned that you may be pressing it down. "why didn't you say anything, are you not upset?" the question slides over your head, and you direct your attention back to the media in front of you. " 've been busy today," you respond as your eyes focus again on the screen. Simon sighs again, turning on his heels and heading to the bedroom for a change of clothes. he knew he'd be heading to the store now, or helping you through a meltdown later.

Simon had read up quite a bit on the fickle nature of meltdowns, and he was well versed in how unpredictable they may be. he'd listened to numerous autistic media creators mention their experience in reference to valves. when the 'special interest' tank was where you needed it, and your 'manual labor' valve was at a minimum, then that allowed for things like social interaction or emotional regulation. when you had no time to yourself and no time for the things that keep you happy, your mask began to slip and 'smaller' things that you normally coped with began to feel a lot heavier and less manageable. he knew that your special interest tank currently filled your cup to the brim, allowing you to ignore the constant discomfort of hunger and dehydration. he also knew that should this hunger persist it may heighten other, seemingly less significant, senses and experiences and he'd find himself well into meltdown territory. the longer he waited for you to notice your hunger, the more likely dysregulation would occur.

at the store, Simon's breath is stolen from him. the damned item was out of stock. he haggled a store employee, begging them to check their inventory again, but they'd been completely out of it. Simon found himself driving all over the city in search of this item, but he found nothing. at the fifth store he felt defeated, and he decided to search for the item online. to his dismay, it'd been discontinued. there was a pit in your husband's stomach at the information. to Simon's surprise, it seemed that his lovely spouse's support of this item hadn't been enough to singlehandedly keep the item in service. he scoffed as he thumbed through the list of items he knew you liked, all of which seeming a reach to coax you into eating.

Simon drives the 45 minutes back to the home, and you're pacing in the living room with your headphones on. Simon doesn't even have to ask, he knows you've overdone yourself with the screens and now your head hurts and your ears hurt; your ears always hurt when you're overstimulated. No matter how much you loved [special interest], you still found yourself overwhelmed if you indulged for too long.

you turn the music down at the sight of your husband in the doorway, waiting for him to speak. "Lovie, it seems that item has been discontinued." The words take a moment to be processed, but you fail to hide the disgust and frustration you feel about the information. you feel your chest getting tight, and the music doesn't feel loud enough. "i know this is difficult but-" 'How could we not notice it was discontinued? Why didn't i pay attention! It can't be! I don't want that. I don't want it." you began to cry, frustration coursing through you as your ears began to sting. You'd tried so hard to do better, to feel better for Simon, but now you felt helpless. Your brain began to eat away at you, blaming you for not keeping up with your own foods and snacks. Your pacing continues as you find yourself striking your chest repeatedly, trying to dull the pain of the situation. your mind felt like it was melting, and the tears continued.

Simon steps to you slowly, striking his own chest lightly and he nears your smaller frame. he slowly reaches his arms out beside him, allowing you to walk into his chest. his arms remain at his sides, and he allows the painful stimming to be transferred to his chest. your strikes feel nothing close to anything he'd truly suffered, and he hoped this would help you make it through this world-shattering time. he stands there for as long as you need him to, fully prepared for this to last several hours. the tears stain his shirt as you sniffle and sob, strikes getting lighter and lighter. you cry so much it leaves you dizzy, and your arms slowly reach out to simon's to wrap them around your frame. you give him two taps to let him know that you'd like to be squeezed, and he does so without complaint.

"You're safe, lovie. I'm sure this is very frustrating, so how about we order that Chinese food place you like. I know it's not safe food but it will feed you. I even have the exact order from last time, hm?" you offer him another two taps as confirmation, and he smiles.

Once you begin to come down from your meltdown, Simon is sure to help you change into your favorite pajamas and wraps you in your compression blanket. you two spend the evening in your bed watching your comfort show and eating takeout.

an: i hope this as comforting for you as it was for me while writing. simon would be such a loving and comforting partner, and I deeply believe he'd study you and learn you so well that he can help. if anyone you love is having a meltdown, try to remove any extra emotional or cognitive labor for them.