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myuntoldstory · 3 days

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i'll marry you after this

Written for @jilymicrofics Mystery Microfic May Event. Everyone's guessed me right!

A special thanks to @eastwindmlk for the wonderful banner as well.

Prompt 9: Whisper

“I’ll f-fucking marry y-you after this,” James breathes. “You’ve already proposed to me,” she jokes, voice low and devoid of humour. It takes all her effort not to let her focus slip. “N-no, fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I m-mean marry you after t-this. I don’t want to wait. W-we can v-very well die soon and I d-don’t want to d-die without b-becoming your h-husband.”

During a mission, Lily and James find themselves in a noise-activated trap. With James injured and time running out as the Death Eaters close in on them, Lily has to work fast to save her fiancé and get out.

read on ao3 or under the cut

warnings: blood, pain, mild violence, references to dying

“James!”

A whistle, a gasp. Lily stares at the arrow with wide eyes. The head is embedded into the stone where she used to stand. She moves, foot slipping across the small puddle of blood. A loud thump echoes in the room as she falls. Panels open on the walls. She dodges the arrows flying straight at her. Something clicks as the last arrow whistles past her ear. She looks around the room where she and James have jumped in to escape the Death Eaters.

James.

He’s on the floor, teeth gritted, breathing heavily. He seems to be close to screaming. Lily shakes at the sight of him. Panic bubbles from the bottom of her stomach, and she tamps it down. Carefully, quietly, she crawls towards her fiancé, eyes darting at the walls, terrified of anything that’ll trigger it. But thank god, thank god. She reaches for him, pulls him towards her lap.

Blood. So much of it. So much of his life leaking out of him and onto stone. Her breaths come out in strained bursts. Trembling fingertips reach towards the arrow sticking out of his abdomen. She presses her hand around the wound, a futile effort to keep what’s left of him inside—her mind blanks; the four walls around them close in, trapping her, draining all hope.

“Lily—”

“Shh—shh…” she whispers, pressing crimson fingers against his mouth. “Noise… activates…”

James’ eyes flutter and dart around. “O-okay…”

“D-don’t move—”

“Fuck!”

“Sorry—I’m sorry.” She looks closely at how bad he is, how hard she has to fight the fates this time to keep him alive. She bites back a cry. “Oh my god—no, no, it’s f-fine—you’ll be f-fine.”

“C-comforting after that l-little f-freak out...” He musters a pained smile.

“S-shut up.” That’s him trying, but she can’t smile for him. Not this time. “Shut up. It’s deep and poisoned—Christ, James.” She sniffles, pushing back the tears, the panic. “I-I have a fix, but I have to—I’m sorry—I have to pull it out.”

“... I h-have to be q-quiet?”

“Y-yeah. I’m sorry—”

“F-fuck it. I-I’m ready.”

“Okay.” She braces herself. It’s like the poison inside him is transferring to her, spreading dread and an unshakeable feeling that they will not survive. Not this time. “Just… deep breath, okay, and keep quiet.”

Lily barely moves, but James hisses. She tenses, but all remains quiet. She pets James’ hair, kisses him. He barely kisses back, lips trembling, all of him shaking—whether from pain or because he’s dying. She doesn’t know—she doesn’t want to. He’ll live. She’ll make sure he fucking does. They’re not dying here. Dying here kills everything they ever fought, sacrificed, and died for, all to keep a man hellbent on destroying everything they loved at bay.

She hears the thundering footsteps of the Death Eaters in the distance. It won’t be long before they find them. If she doesn’t move now, if she keeps hesitating, then they will die here. It won’t matter what she wants. She steels herself, looks down at James, curls her hand into a tight fist and pushes her arm along his lips.

“W-what are you doing?” he murmurs.

“Bite on me.”

“What—”

“Do it, Potter; I’m pulling it out in one go.”

She shoves her arm into his mouth as he protests, at the same time pulling the arrow out in one movement. She grits her teeth, a whimper hissing out as James’ teeth sink past her skin. A quiet, muted grunt escapes him—not loud enough for the trap. They stay still for a few seconds, laboured breaths stuttering out.

Then, she gets to work.

She’s best at non-verbal healing spells, but it takes immense concentration. She stitches the wound, stops the poison from running its course, but she can’t expel it. That’s for the healers at St Mungo’s to deal with. For that to happen, they must get out. Now.

The footsteps thunder closer.

“I’ll f-fucking marry y-you after this,” James breathes.

“You’ve already proposed to me,” she jokes, voice low and devoid of humour. It takes all her effort not to let her focus slip.

“N-no, fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I m-mean marry you after t-this. I don’t want to wait. W-we can v-very well die soon and I d-don’t want to d-die without b-becoming your h-husband.”

“Okay. Marry me.” Tears sting her eyes. “Marry me. Let’s have kids.”

“R-really?”

“You want a son, right?” she grins at him, tears falling down her cheeks. “I’ll give you one.”

“I l-love you so m-much.”

“Don’t,” she grits, not mistaking the tone he let slip. “Don’t you dare.”

James nods, falling silent. They need to escape. She props James against her, looking around. Despite the trap being noise-activated, she can still do magic. An idea occurs to her—risky, but it’s their best chance. And it has to be non-verbal. Doubt makes her pause, but one look at James, and she knows it’s a risk she must take.

Holding him against her, she closes her eyes and concentrates. Two spells—both have to be perfect. She steadies her breath. In a split second, explosions thunder overhead. The panels open, and arrows rain towards its direction. At the same time, she grips James and apparates them out of the trap, leaving a loud crack in its wake.

They land on wet grass—the rendezvous point. Lily on her back, an unconscious James in her arms. There’s noise—horror, joy, alarm, familiar, safe, but it’s all fuzzy. She loses sense of everything. It all converges and crashes on her like a wave, dragging her in the rip, weighing down her lids. Her left arm throbs from James’ bite, pinpoints of pain on her shoulders, extreme heat…

But it’s okay.

They’re now safe with the Order, their friends.

So, she lets darkness overtake her.

#jily #jily fanfic #james potter #lily evans #jple #james potter x lily evans #james x lily #marauders era #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic #mus writes #mus writes fanfic

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shatteredskelet0n · 1 day

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i'm in such a weird spot rn and i want to know if any of you relate or just have any thoughts on this. so i got pretty deep into my disorder and was in a pretty strict mindset and like obsessing over restricting/starving and i got into like a 5-6 month binge/restrict cycle and every time i started eating again i felt like shit, yk how it goes with all of the guilt and disgust and wanting to be sick again, but recently like in the past few weeks i have been eating normally again and it was difficult to deal with at first but something just flipped in my brain or something idk, i began to not rlly feel the need to get back into restricting as much and i was more comfortable with my body that i would typically be disgusted with, and maybe it's just subconscious survival instincts trying to stop me from killing myself lmao but i just don't feel like doing it anymore, usually the thoughts would still be there but they're not so strong anymore

i used to get rlly bad with the "all or nothing" kind of thing of like either i was worried abt eating and scared of calories or i would eat every chance i got because i had that freedom taken away from me so much while i was restricting, and now it seems like i am in the middle of the two, like im controlling myself a little more and i dont binge but i cant bring myself to starve again and idk if i just haven't been triggered enough/lost discipline or if im healing

i feel like i'm just tipping on a seesaw, because i do want to lose a bit more before summer and i feel more like doing it healthy now but also as soon as i skip a meal or tell myself i need to not eat for the rest of the day or only eat this or that, the old habits want to trigger me into going all in and my brain wants to go further into restricting again and i miss being smaller i just hate everything that surrounded it

i can't tell if i'm healing or just gaslighting myself rn because i want to lose a little more but i just don't feel such a strong urge to do it all immediately and as quickly as possible ig? but i still feel gross sometimes but im usually fine? idk what's happening

#weight loss #starvibg #ana0rex1a #ana advice #anarekcia #tw ana rant #tw ed ana #ed br #ed dairy #an0rec1a #anor3c1a #st4rv1ng #3d not sheeran

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1moreoffkeyanthem · 1 day

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Hey y’all guess what?!? :) it’s time for a new episode of Bedtime Stories With PCE!!!

Who ordered some old man yaoi? That’s right, this one is set right after If Heaven And Hell Decide, with a sick Kyle, worried Stan, the best little immortal cat of all time, adding injury to illness, two middle aged men being massive fantasy dorks, all that goodness. Very sorry to my favorite arthritic ginger it will happen again, very sorry to his extremely concerned husband.

And y’all. I’m dedicating this to the Sickfic Queen herself, @alwaysinstyle who consistently kicks ass and gets stoked about style taking care of each other with me. Ana I love you so much and I’m so proud of you. All the people in your corner, we have you covered.

Also OFC the rest of the RANT homies have been subjected to random snippets of this over the past 2 weeks or so (jesus my sadsack ass needs to get some motivation back how has it been two weeks) but hey I will always be obnoxious when the mood strikes me and this long ass monstrosity is FINALLY done!!! Thank y’all fr for putting up with me.

Here’s •Well, That Would Be Pretty Odd•

A subtle knock at the door drew Stan’s attention and Kyle from uneasy rest. His husband’s head lolled exhaustively in his hand, still drained of energy and, according to the screen displaying his vitals, running a pretty high fever. Stan kept one arm protectively over him and turned to the door. “Yeah?”

The doctor entered, shutting the door behind her. “Hey, guys, how are we doing in here?”

Kyle pulled up slowly, clearly emotional, like he always got when he was sick. “Can I go home yet? Moose needs me.”

“Our cat,” Stan explained. “He’s worried he scared our cat.”

“I did.”

“Scared the hell out of your husband, too, sick as you are. It says on the chart you guys filled out that your blood sugar was low enough to potentially trigger a seizure. If he hadn’t acted as fast as he did, you’d be even worse off than you are.”

Kyle slumped back into Stan. “He always rescues me,” he murmured.

Stan felt like crying. “I’m your knight when you need me, dude.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, what’re we working with here? Stomach flu, dehydration, complications because of the diabetes, all that, right?”

“Right. Kyle, we have you on antivirals and fluids via IV for now, and I know you’re eager to get home-“

“-he hates hospitals-“

“-I hate hospitals.”

The doctor smiled kindly, even after getting interrupted. Stan liked her. “We’re keeping you overnight at least, but if your vitals are still stable and your fever is less than 102, we can send you home.”

Stan knew Kyle appreciated being the one addressed about his own health. This doctor could read the room, that’s for sure. Kyle nodded tiredly, eyes closed.

“How about when we go home? What’s the plan?” Stan inquired, tired as fuck himself but making an exception for Ky, always.

“Fluids, rest, anything with nutritional value that can stay down. Your friend in the waiting room mentioned orange juice as you guys’ go-to when Kyle’s having trouble with blood sugar? And he said you’re always diligent about keeping an eye on his health.” She was definitely addressing Stan now, since Kyle had clearly relinquished responsibility for the time being, knowing Stan had him covered. Hell yeah he did. “Any further complications; if you catch the bug too and can’t take care of him, another bad sugar drop or fever spike, and you guys come right back here. But at this point, it’s looking like this is something manageable from home, fingers crossed.”

And Stan had every finger crossed. He’d take care of Kyle, just like Kyle took care of him. Even if he was kind of scared as fuck, not having seen him quite this sick since maybe college. Or even when they were kids and he needed kidney surgery. He bit the panic down. Kyle was okay.

“Gotcha. I can spend the night? Spousal rights and everything?”

“You won’t convince him not to stay if you say no,” was Kyle’s muffled reply.

The doctor laughed. “I won’t make you leave. The last thing I want is either of you worked up, especially you, Kyle. If you need your husband with you to be comfortable-“

“-mhm-“

“-that’s not a problem in my book.” She tapped her clipboard with long fingernails. “There’s a call button on the bed if you need anything between the nurses checks, and I’ll tell your friend he’s free to go. He isn’t allowed back here, I’m afraid, but I can also let him know he can be the one to pick you up in the morning, if that’s what you two want?”

Kyle mumbled something that sounded like “like a good neighbor, Tucker is there” to the tune of the state farm insurance jingle. The doctor raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, he’s pretty delirious, alright.” A couple quick checks to Kyle’s IV line and heartbeat monitor, and she was gesturing for Stan to lay his half asleep husband back down. “You boys get some rest. We’ll keep you posted.”

“Thanks,” Stan whispered, letting Kyle nuzzle into his chest as she left the room. Once they were alone in the darkened space, he kissed him softly on the top of the head. Kyle was a space heater. But if the hospital staff wasn’t alarmed, they were okay. “I’ve got you, baby, just sleep.”

The next morning, Kyle improved enough to leave and discharge paperwork done, they faced the problem of actually getting the sick man home.

Stan waved off the nurse’s offered wheelchair and stubbornly picked Kyle up because like hell was he losing even a second of contact. That and he took pride in the fact that he was in his 40s and still able to carry his husband.

“Sir, there’s procedure…”

Kyle snorted from where his head was against Stan’s shoulder, coherent enough to be aware but still too weak to insist on, god forbid, trying to walk on his own. “Believe me, ma’am, there’s no way in hell you’re convincing this guy not to carry me. Losing battle, mark my worms- words.”

Someone needed to be home in bed.

The nurse sighed, clearly deciding it wasn’t worth argument. Thank God, because Kyle could out argue anyone normally, but he was fucking tired.

“Just sing me home again, Orpheus,” he murmured into his husband’s ear.

Stan laughed at the reference. “Alright, ma’am, so if we’re all set….”

“Yes, yes, you can go. Hope you feel better.”

Kyle only had a vague recollection of both Stan and Craig yelling at the hospital staff when they brought him in, which was kind of funny to think about. Craig didn’t get worked up about things easily, and Stan was as gentle as they came. But it was nice to know his friend and his partner were willing to act so out of character for his sake. He muttered a “hey, spaceman” in greeting when Stan lowered him into the back of Craig’s car, mid morning sun forcing him to keep his eyes closed.

Craig barked a short laugh, pulling from the parking lot when both his passengers were settled for the short drive. “Someone’s feeling better.”

“I’ll get him set to rights, kick the plague’s ass,” Stan said, softly kissing his husband’s still too warm forehead. “Thanks for picking us up, dude. And for last night.”

“No biggie,” Craig shrugged nonchalantly. “Someone had to keep a level head and it sure as hell wasn’t gonna be either of you.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong there. Craig was probably the least prone to getting over emotional person Stan had ever met.

Craig’s husband, however, was the exact opposite. Upon getting home and getting up to bed, Kyle could faintly hear the frantic voice of Tweek downstairs, bringing Moose back from spending the night over at apartment two.

Kyle was nauseous, not to the point that he had been, but nauseous all the same, waiting for Stan to be done retrieving their cat and filling Kyle’s water. He felt weak as shit, and sweaty, which was probably a reasonably good indicator of his fever coming down, but it fucking sucked. And he was going to need some soup or something in him soon so his blood sugar didn’t get so bad again, which was another thing that sucked, because why do flesh prisons require so much maintenance? Why did his body require so much to function.

He didn’t realize tears were flowing until Stan entered the bedroom, hands full with the water, a KMBS, and one of those bottled protein drinks that tasted like chalk. Moose was quick to jump up and pad softly over to him, big blue eyes so worried and sweet as he curled up beside him. Kyle’s two blue eyed boys.

The second of whom was setting the drinks on the bedside table. There was a straw in each, so Kyle wouldn’t have to move as much to drink. It made him cry harder.

“Shhh, dude, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Stan climbed onto his side and grabbed the juice, holding it to Kyle’s lips. “I know you don’t feel good, that’s okay. I’ve got you. Go slow, okay?”

Kyle complied, the sharp taste of salted orange juice helping both physically and mentally. Plus, it’s hard to drink something and cry at the same time, so his breathing was a little less sporadic. A few sips were all he managed before his stomach started rolling, and he shook his head. Stan understood, setting the cup down and pulling Kyle’s face into his chest. “Just sleep, baby. I’m gonna have to check your temperature and levels in about an hour, but just sleep until then, alright?”

“Mhm.”

Stan would take care of him. Kyle would put up a fight, when he had the strength to, but Stan knew from experience that he’d be ‘secretly’ loving being cared for.

The husbands had a couple favorite positions to hold each other in. They’d hold the other from behind, arms wrapped around and poised to kiss an exposed nape or shoulder as a reminder of their presence. They would entangle themselves like they were doing now, they’d let the other’s head rest on their legs, Kyle would perch himself in Stans lap or Stan would drape over him like a blanket. Holding each other was safe. And in this moment Stan wrapped protectively around his sick partner like it was his sacred duty, one hand cradling Kyle’s head from underneath, fingers gently rubbing his hair, the other arm tucking him firmly against himself, feeling Moose’s purrs vibrating where the cat had claimed his place against Kyle’s back, right below the place Stan’s arm was wrapped around.

Stan glanced at the nightstand clock, keeping watch for the next time they’d need to wake up for a check in. About an hour and he’d get the thermometer to make sure they were still headed in the right direction, check Kyle’s levels, make them both something for, well, he supposed lunch at this point, and call the clinic to let his coworkers know that he’d be out a few days for a family emergency. He’d have to let Kyle’s work know too, before his husband tried to go into school still unwell.

Fitfully, Kyle dozed, sweating in his sleep, which Stan knew damn well he’d complain about when he woke up, but personally, he didn’t mind holding a miniature sun, because it was Kyle. Overheated, but still Kyle.

It hadn’t quite been an hour, but the warmth was starting to concern him. He gently kissed the top of his husband’s head, encouraging him to stir.

“Dude, hey.”

Kyle let out a tired whine as indication that he was awake.

“I know, baby. I just need to check your temperature and then you can go back to sleep.”

“I can check my own damn temperature,” Kyle protested, rolling over onto his back when Stan relinquished his grasp around his beloved. He scowled. “I’m all sweaty.”

Stan chuckled lowly. Was he right or was he right. “Gimme a second.”

Upon getting the thermometer and finding that they were still going in the right direction, Stan relaxed slightly. He let Kyle check both his temperature and blood sugar by himself, because it wasn’t worth the impending argument and the last thing he wanted was to make his husband feel helpless. Fever was down, but he definitely needed something to eat soon.

“Dude, do you think you can handle something solid, or you wanna keep sticking with drinks?”

Kyle hadn’t puked in a while, so he felt like maybe something simple, easy on the stomach, would be okay. As much as he wanted to keep going with the safe option of juice and a protein shake, he wouldn’t get better without something substantial in him and he knew it. “I can try. No promises.”

“You don’t need to promise anything,” Stan insisted, leaning down to kiss him on the way out of bed. “But I have an idea, if you’re okay by yourself for a few minutes.”

“Moose is with me. I’m not by myself,” Kyle remarked with a sleepy smile.

Stan snorted and went to change into jeans, last night’s pajamas not exactly ideal attire for walking to the BBQ place a block over. Kyle was weird about food sometimes, but Brendan’s mac and cheese was a simple, safe, Kyle approved bet. He’d probably want it to get cold first like he usually did (weirdo), but sick Kyle was sort of a wild card. They’d see.

“I’ll be back in fifteen, dude, drink some water.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Kyle heard the door close downstairs, slowly reaching for his water at the bedside, one hand resting on their cat’s head. Moose was stretched out along his side, fluffy tail dangling off the side of the mattress.

“You sleepy too, young nastyman?” Kyle asked, setting the bottle down and closing his eyes. Moose purred in response.

Apparently he’d drifted off again, waking up to the rustle of a takeout bag and a strong, smoky smell.

Kyle clapped a hand over his mouth. Ordinarily the smell of brisket and ribs wouldn’t bother him, but in his half asleep state, smelling meat on Stan of all people…

“…Dude?”

“FUCKING CHANGE!” Kyle screeched, staggering up to run to the bathroom, tears in his eyes because the bbq place smell all over his vegetarian husband was wrong and disorienting and he hated being sick and fevers made him sensitive and an asshole and-

Falling hard in front of the toilet, he felt his knee go out. The cherry on top of the fucking cake while his stomach tried to escape his body. Kyle cried out in pain, which was cut off immediately by a wave of sick splashing into the porcelain while he attempted to move and take the weight off his left leg, shaking and already crying because he was pissed and it hurt and he couldn’t catch a damn break. Dry heaving and spluttering, he collapsed tiredly into the alcove between the toilet and the cabinets, one trembling arm draped over the seat and the other hand clutching his knee, eyes shut tightly against the light and the nausea and pain.

“Ky, hey, hey, oh, fuck, baby, shit, did you twist your knee? Okay, you’re okay, hold on-“

Kyle leaned over to retch again, choking out “YOU SMELL WRONG” because that’s all he could manage between gasps.

Stan yanked his shirt off and threw it through the open door into the hallway, past where Moose was watching with wide eyes from the threshold. “Okay, I’m sorry, is that better? Here.” He gently eased Kyle’s hand away from his leg, carefully straightening it out. “God, yeah, it’s already swelling.”

“WHY do I have to LIVE IN THIS GODDAMN FLESH PRISON?!?” Kyle slammed his fist against the floor, frustrated beyond belief. Stan caught his hand before he could do it again.

“Shh, Ky, c’mon. You’re okay, it’s fine.”

Seeing his husband like this, sick, aggravating his bad knee mid vomit, broke Stan’s heart. But he had him. He had him and wouldn’t let go. Was that dramatic? Absolutely. But when the fuck was he not dramatic about Kyle’s health?

“THAT FUCKING STUPID ASS NURSE!” Kyle was yelling. “Sending me sick kids, thinking they were just trying to get out of class, that BITCH!”

“Baby, dude, calm down, man, breathe.”

“YOU’RE ONE TO FUCKING TALK!”

Alright, point to Kyle. Stan sighed as Kyle heaved over the toilet again, expelling nothing but water. They really needed to get something in him before he wound up needing the hospital again. Stan gently rubbed his husband’s back as he hiccuped and cried, clearly feeling betrayed by his body. A few minutes of heavy breathing, and Kyle was pulling back up. “I- I think I’m d-done.”

“Alright dude, I’m gonna get you up now, that okay?”

“Mhm”

Very, very carefully, Stan hauled Kyle from the floor, mindful not to move his knee too much and going slow in case of another bout of nausea. Moose trotted into the bedroom after his dads, obviously distressed seeing Kyle cry and immediately curling back up against the redhead when Stan set him down.

Stan was honestly a little nauseous himself, because Kyle’s frustrated tears never failed to make him emotional too. But he knew what to do here, he reminded himself. Fever was coming down, leg flare up was pretty routine, Kyle would rant it out if he had to and Stan would be his yes-man, and liquids were probably going to be the staple for the rest of the day.

He rolled up a throw blanket and propped it under Kyle’s leg, taking some strain off the irritated joint and kissing his husband’s kneecap when he did so. “You want ice, babe?”

“Yes I want fucking ice,” Kyle mumbled, arms draped over his eyes.

Stan could admit to enjoying taking care of Kyle when he fucked up his knee; pissed off Kyle was cute. “Aw, baby, I got you.” He grabbed the takeout bag from the nightstand too, not knowing if the bbq smell was lingering there too. “I’ll stick this in the fridge for when you want something solid, okay? How ‘bout another Ensure?”

Kyle grumbled something inaudible that Stan took as a yes. Poor thing was so upset. But he had every right to be, and Stan would never be annoyed at him for that.

Downstairs, he debated making his husband a smoothie, but the blender was loud, and his head probably already hurt from throwing up. Instead, he just grabbed an ice pack and a shake (strawberry, still gross but the flavor Kyle hated the least), taking the time to scribble out the nutrition information, just in case. That practice was pretty much habit at this point; he’d started ripping off or crossing out the calories on food for Kyle when they were fourteen, when his favorite person was recovering from his eating disorder, and even if he’d been more than fine for a longgggg time, Stan was prone to reverting to the past. When Kyle wasn’t okay, for whatever reason, food lore got crossed out.

“Dude, you up?”

“Mm”

“Shit, babe.” Stan knelt by the bed to carefully apply the ice, reaching a hand up to thumb away a falling tear. “You just mad?”

“Fucking pissed,” Kyle moaned. “It’s not enough that I have the goddamn plague?!? I have to have to fuck my leg up too? My parents are, like twice our age and even they don’t have fucking arthritis!” Kyle pointed two middle fingers to the ceiling as a ‘fuck you’ to god, which was actually pretty funny, but Stan didn’t laugh. That would only make his husband madder.

“Ky, c’mon.” Stan cupped under his head to kiss his cheek, relishing in the subtle smile that action brought. “And your parents didn’t shred tendons and refuse to do physical therapy.”

“I am damn well aware my goddamn arthritis is my own fault, Staniel.” But he sighed contentedly, adjusting the ice pack before leaning back against the pillows. “That helps. I’m sorry.”

Declaring the anger over for now, Stan climbed into bed beside him. “Don’t be sorry, dude. How’s your stomach?”

“I don’t fucking feel good.”

“I know, dude, can you drink a little water? We have to keep you hydrated.”

“It’ll just come back up.”

“Not necessarily.”

Moose crawled up between his dads, small furry head on Kyle’s shoulder, knowing he needed comfort. Kyle rubbed his face on the cat. “Babyman, did I scare you last night? I did, huh?”

“Dude,” Stan started, “he’s fine. You’re fine. We’re all fine. Drink something and don’t move your leg.”

“I didn’t shred my tendons, by the way.” Kyle protested. “I just tore some shit a little.”

“Enough that it’s a problem even now.”

“See, you get it.”

Stan laughed. “Quit being a dick and go to sleep, baby. You know you’ll feel better. I’m right here, dude, whatever you need.”

“I’m not being a dick, I’m being contrary.”

“Same difference.”

“Mm.”

God, poor Kyle, pissed off, sick, having a flare up on top of everything else. “Dude, what do you need?”

“Leg hurts.”

“We have a pack on it, dude. Maybe some ibuprofen? You should take some for the fever anyway.”

“It hurts.”

Stan started to gently rub his partner’s knee. “I know, babe. I know it’s hurting.”

“I hit it on the floor.”

“I know you did.”

“Fuck this shit.”

Kyle knew he was being a total dramatic asshole, but he didn’t care. God had fucked him over; he could be a dick. That made sense. “I’m mad, dude.”

“That’s okay.”

And no he didn’t have the right to be mad. Stan was being so sweet. Always. Any time Kyle’s meat suit betrayed him and he got upset about it, Stan was there, doting and adorable as ever. “I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep.”

“Something bad’s gonna happen.”

“Oh, dude.” Stan wrapped around him, carefully. “We’re not OCD spiraling. We’re not. A little rest, alright?”

In actuality, Kyle was too tired to argue.

It had to have been a few hours when Stan felt Kyle stir against his chest, swinging over to get out of bed… and promptly falling with a loud “FUCK!”

“Ky?”

“I FUCKING FORGOT ABOUT MY GODDAMN LEG!!!”

Stan sprang off the bed then too, getting on the floor beside his hyperventilating husband. “Dude, shhh, okay, okay, straighten it out.”

Sobbing, Kyle did. “D-don’t, freak, okay? I moved it weird, that’s all.”

“It’s fine, dude. Look at me. I’m not freaking out.” He was just doing a good job hiding it. Stan hated seeing Kyle cry, emotional, probably still feverish and nauseated, trying to get up in the middle of the night and falling on his knee, just the perfect storm of fucked up shit. But Kyle needed to stay calm, above all else. “What did you need, dude? Let me help you.”

“Water,” Kyle mumbled dejectedly.

“And guess what? You have me for that.” Stan carefully felt around his husband’s leg. “Can I turn a light on?”

Kyle responded by throwing up into the trash can, which had Stan gagging too. Fuck. Honestly, he was surprised he lasted so long without sympathy puking. “Hold on, baby.”

Stan rushed to the bathroom to empty his own stomach, somehow only just noticing that he still hadn’t put a shirt on from earlier. And Kyle hadn’t said anything about him wearing “outside pants” in bed, either, which was probably the best indicator of how sick he was.

Flushing down the panic induced vomit, Stan stood and glared at his reflection while he rinsed his mouth out, gulping a few handfuls of water from the sink. He had to keep it together. He needed a plan. Okay. Get Kyle back in bed, check his temperature and blood sugar, go downstairs to fill up his water and feed Moose, go from there.

Kyle had curled up on the floor back in the bedroom, and Moose had the zoomies. Stan sighed.

“Dude, okay, let’s get up.”

“Moving sucks ass.”

“I know it does, babe, but the bed is better than the floor.”

“Quit being right,” Kyle mumbled, allowing himself to be helped back under the covers. Stan snagged his readers from the nightstand, flipping on the lamp and grabbing the thermometer too.

“Okay, melmë, let’s see.”

Kyle smiled a little. “You look like a dad.”

“I am a dad,” he reminded him. Even if he’d bemoaned needing reading glasses and his body getting softer with age, his sentimental side was happy he had made it this far in life, especially with Kyle at his side. “Our son is bouncing off the walls as we speak. Open.”

Down to 100.3, thank whoever the fuck was up there. Maybe he should be thanking Kyle’s God, not having any attachment to one of his own. When he’d first started AA and found that part of the whole thing was putting things in the hands of a higher power, he had posed the question of what to do if you weren’t particularly religious to his sponsor. Mark had said “hell, put your faith in the doorknob if you want. Got you in here, didn’t it?”

“What’s the damage?” Kyle inquired.

“Definitely better. You want to check your levels or can I?”

Kyle slowly opened his eyes. “I got it, sweetheart, you’ve been doing so much.”

“Because I want to.”

“I’m difficult.”

Stan brought Kyle’s hand up to his lips and kissed it. “It so isn’t your fault that you got sick, or that you hurt your knee, or that you have diabetes. In sickness and in health, right?” Kyle’s fond grin only grew, and Stan decided to let up on the overbearingness. He snatched Moose up quickly on the cat’s next lap around the room. “I’m filling your water and feeding the dragon, okay? Be right back.”

So he had sweat out most of the fever, it seemed like. Judging by how sticky he felt, Kyle was fairly certain he was over the worst. At least in terms of the fucking stomach flu. His leg was a different story.

It was dim in the bedroom with only a sliver of moonlight slipping through the window, and the soft light from the lamp, but he could feel that he’d aggravated his knee pretty bad. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. The cartilage felt like it was grinding when he shifted. Kyle groaned in frustration, debating trying to hop over to the closet for his brace, but deciding against it, because Stan would flip his lid if he saw him standing. And considering what his blood sugar was at, being vertical was a bad idea anyway.

Said husband returned to the room. “I come bearing gifts for the king!”

Dork. Freshly refilled water, a KMBS, sleeve of crackers. Stan presented the juice. “Your elixir, melda târ. And-“ he beelined for the top of the closet, clearly having read Kyle’s mind.

“Thank you, my most dutiful and trusted of knights.” Kyle let him secure the knee brace, watching as those careful, strong, gentle hands worked, as Stan leaned down to kiss his leg when he was done. His Stan. His sweet Sir Marshwalker.

“Oh, shit, dude, are you crying? Does it hurt that much?” Stan was up by his face again. Kyle shook his head.

“It’s not that; I just- I really fucking love you,” he sobbed.

“Aw, baby, come here.” Stan climbed into bed and wrapped around him again, avoiding touching his husband’s stomach or leg. A little jingle of Moose’s collar announced their boy’s return to the bedroom, a tiny *prrrt* as the cat settled back at Kyle’s side. “You’re not as warm as you were, Ky, I think you’re getting better. That’s good, my love, you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” Kyle murmured against him, damp eyelashes tickling Stan’s chest. “You still don’t have a shirt on.”

Stan laughed. So he had noticed. “You complaining?”

“You know I’m not.”

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reserwrekt · 1 year

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Currently the only way I can socialize and not be overwhelmed is by going stealth on an avatar social media app, taking several moments before joining conversations, then leaving after like five minutes.

#for the past couple years I've been almost completely unable to talk to anyone #for more than five minutes before having a breakdown #so i feel like I'm dipping my toes back in #and i mean i really don't know where my tolerance went #i kind of do but it's a long story #i always feel bad i talk so much and i usually say something i regret or worse wrong and things always go not great #like people misinterpret me all the time or I'll say something nice like children need support and love rn and #my lyft drive will be like idk i kind of hate my children and then i spend the rest of the day breaking down about it #thinking about their children and why this is normal but like this is just one example of happens every time #people really say the worst things esp around me #everything is triggering because of my past #like the moment someone says how am i in already dead inside because i don't want to lie to make others feel comfortable bc lying kills me #it's like a physical weight in my brain that sits there telling me i have to tell the truth and people don't typically like if i admit #hey sorry i lied I'm actually not okay so i started just avoiding the question but that's awkward to and people can get mad

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wild-at-mind · 4 months

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Not to talk about MRA-lite spaces again but I'm going to need everyone to understand that in these spaces, the subtext of 'men don't get to talk about their problems' is ALWAYS 'and it is women's fault!'

#my time in the MRA-lite saltmines returns to me yet again whenever i see the transandrophobia side of tumblr #look- it's just the same stuff ok? Or maybe i'm just biased because it triggers me the fucking same no matter who is saying it #also please note i'm saying MRA-lite and not MRA- I understand that MRA usually has connotations of violence for people #MRA-lite is nothing like that it's just a load of talking about men's issues but without any of the context #the very important context that you need to place the issues into wider society and its effect on everyone and not just men #these spaces may not be violent but they are quite pointless and the conversations never ever go anywhere #and it's been the same like 5 conversations for the past 15 years and no doubt much longer but that's as far back as i go with it #every time someone discovers the 5 or so men's issue they act like they just converted to a religion or something #and bring it up in everything. I was like that too at like 21 i promise i get it! but now i look back and CRINGE #and i am a guy now! ok? I get it that a lot of people are transmasc doing this i get why! but.....#i just wish it was less of a Thing. and i genuinely find it triggering.#because i do fucking care ok? i have academic books about some of the 5 or so men's issues on my bookshelf!#because actually there are people writing these books and they do care!#i had someone a while ago saying it was 'sad' to see a trans man talk like i do on this so i explained where i'm coming from #and they never came back so i will never know if they saw my point of view and that kind of sucked #hopefully that won't happen again- i really don't like arguing with other transmasc people (i like discussions though)#anyway i'll stop rambling now

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catkin-morgs-kookaburralover · 8 months

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thinking about tom and adira agin

#thinking about the way the system faked the videos #and messed her up a lot #and how various innocent things tom does or says (or less innocent) are now triggers for her #because of what followed in the videos #thinking about how she still trusted him but at times it was so so hard because of her trauma #thinking about tom my broken darling boy #about how ridiculously codependent their relationship is and how to survive they have to grow more dependent before they learn healthy #relationships. thinking about how tom is messed up bc of his past too #thinking about Them Both and i just #my beloveds i want to cudle them and make everything right but NO the story does not let taht #they are breaking #tom #adira #i can have a little obsession with my own characters. as a treat. for morale

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firstfandomfangirl · 3 months

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I've been thinking a lot about fear off and on over the last week and. Hmm.

#rambling #I am a super anxious person #I can find a way to be afraid of a lot of things #On top of that there are things that trigger my anxiety and cause me to be Very Afraid; Every Time #ex. Sickness #So I've devoted the past few months to avoiding those triggers whenever possible #and it's just now occuring to me that that.... may not be the healthiest choice?#Instead of avoiding the sources of fear at all costs; maybe I should confront them?#I can't.... Avoid EVERYTHING that scares me #and it's keeping me from doing things I want to do. Or SHOULD do.#and when I am inevitably in a situation where I CANT avoid a trigger it makes me doubly stressed because I can't escape it #I don't know if confronting them would help but I know avoidance isn't going to work forever.

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candlebel · 2 months

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I cared. I still do. I still think of you and I still cry over you. You were importat to me. You still are.

#I was interested. I wanted to get to know you.#I did not want validation. I only said it because you said it... I don't know why. I was susceptible.#I was blindly accepting certain things that you said about me. Judgement that you had for me.#I was under severe stress from my job at the time; while at the same time dealing with unresolved emotional trauma and very low self worth.#I was burnt out. Crushed... Completely.#I didn't want attention. I did not want you to cure my depression. I though I was just letting you know me. I wasn't aware I was oversharin #I tried... SO HARD to get over the things that triggered me and hurt me but I just couldn't...#I wanted to. I did everything in my might; I took it to therapy; I looked everywhere within me; to either get over it #or completely forget about you and stop caring at all; so things were ok and normal again; but it didn't go away...#to this day...#I just feel so... unsafe... at the idea of talking again #I know I wasn't the best listener and I profoundly regret that.#I was not only thinking about myself like you said and I was aware of the effort that other's put; but I was afraid/resistant to PRECISELY #that cause of past events with other people. Because in some I was the one putting that effort and ended badly for me. Looking back #that was inappropiate of you because you felt too comfortable generalizing my past relationships and why in your head they failed.#“I cant help but feel you are looking down on people who” Stay away from me if you ever make a stretch like this again.#By “experiment” I meant that you don't know how a relatioship with somebody is gonna turn out until you go and try. That's all I meant.#I didn't want things to turn out this way. I'm sorry they did.#The effort I put for you may have been shit to you. But to me it was a lot. And I'm done taking judgement.#Altho I love my friends I still keep distance. I still can't completely help that. I can go months not talking to my BF.#You were my BF during my teenage years. I remembered you fondly. I still do.#I don't feel ready to talk again having to keep to myself interest that I might have. Related to trauma. I do not feel comfortable with tha #No I do not look at your blogs.#The day I said I was abused I had a panic attack right after that. That's mainly why I had to cut contact: I didn't want another one.#I didn't tell you because I didn't trust you to not say “talk to the void” again. I didn't trust you to want to hear about it. I didnt feel #safe with you anymore. Event tho we ressumed contact I felt that way the entire time.#I wanted to answer all the questions you had; I really did; until I couldn't stand it anymore.#And the day I removed you from discord... I know you probably had an awful day that day... I'm so; so sorry...#I'd like to one day be completely unbothered by assumptions and stuff cuz I know it's not your fault... You went through stuff too...#vent

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makeitpoppy · 3 months

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about the last thing i reblogged, the stress one

YOU GUYS

i've always been a sensitive human bean in terms of allergies and having sensitive skin, AND i already knew im basically a little walking bundle of stressed out angry nerves

but my body literally decided to rebel against me and let me tell you, one more problem and im going to wrap myself in bubble wrap or become the modern real life bubble boy

#my body: im so stressed im going to start making myself sick so you'll calm the fuck down #im getting allergies and rashes from anything and everything #fucking tooth paste guys #food i eat today does nothing but tomorrow makes me go to the hospital because it triggers my immune system #cleaning products? i cant even be in the same ROOM as them #me cleaning the house is like those doctors in infection movies #i just wanted to vent a little because yeah #like the literal sunlight allergies and all the respiratory ones and the non pure gold or silver jewellery and amoxicillin #and goddamn BANDAIDs and surgical tape and anything adhesive werent enough #i guess thats what having a literal clusterfuck of a year and not getting treatment or talking to anyone about it and having consistent #insomnia for about 7 months does to you

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hoperays-song · 1 year

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Character Deep Dive: Klaus, Ryan and the Dance Troupe

Finally, it is done! I hope y’all enjoy this deep dive!! Just please read the trigger warnings first. Seriously, read the trigger warnings first. Cannot stress that enough. Also shout out to my beta readers, y’all are amazing!!!

- <3 Gooseless

Character Deep Dive: Klaus, Ryan and the Dance Troupe

*TW: This deep dive will mention abuse, grooming, misuse of power, and manipulation. All the events and actions mentioned are based on real world events told to me by friends in the dance industry and my personal experience and research into the industry as well. However, this is just a theory based on my analysis and the analysis done by others. No hate to the people who actually like this character. Again, just a theory. Also, there were two attempted murders on screen as well as implying other murders had taken place in the second movie, so I feel like this theory (while very dark) isn’t the darkest the series could go and is therefore not that out of place. DO NOT READ IF SENSITIVE TO ANYTHING PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED. Also, no, this is not Klaus friendly. What about anything I’ve ever posted would make you think it is? That man gave me multiple panic attacks and made me go back to therapy for a bit because it reminded me of stuff, so nope, not going to be friendly. *

As someone who was in dance my entire childhood and was raised by someone who was a dancer for 14 years, I always enjoy watching the representation of the dance world in media. I’m constantly looking for small details that allude to the real-world dance culture and I was ecstatic to note that in Sing 2 we got to see some of those cultural aspects as well as a wide range of diversity within the dance class itself. However, less than forty seconds in, I noticed what would become my main issue with the movie itself, the character Klaus.

Klaus’s actions were shown to be antagonistic and cruel, yes, but the fact that they were brushed off at the end of the movie to allow him to continue to work with a student he was shown on screen to physically, verbally, and emotionally abuse for the simple reason of “he now knows what he’s capable of and won’t underestimate him again after that performance”. The thing with Klaus is that the major issue wasn’t his underestimating of Johnny’s abilities, it was the very blatant abuse and belittlement that was a constant part of his class. It was bad enough to cause Johnny to have at least one panic attack, and that’s Johnny. A kid who was raised in an extremely high stress situation and is used to being dragged through Buster’s bad and typically very dangerous ideas. Within the course of the first movie, we saw him chased by cops, trapped in a flooding building, and face down a group of potentially dangerous gang members. And while he seemed more than slightly worried and a good bit scared in some of those scenes, it was never enough to cause him to have a panic attack (at least not onscreen).

Yet, when you put him in Klaus’s class for two weeks and he ends up having panic attacks and is clearly extremely burnt out to the point other characters start to notice. You have to ask, what is going on there? Well, after analyzing (probably way too much) everything about Klaus and the dancers I could and doing a ton of research, this is the conclusion I’ve drawn.

Analysis and Allegations

The actions we see from the character Klaus are far from just concerning. Not only do we see Klaus verbally berate and belittle his students, but we also see him physically hit them. No matter what modern media tells you, these are not normal in the dance world. That’s just blatant verbal, emotional, and physical abuse> It should not be tolerated or seen as normal under any circumstances. And, what’s worse is Johnny’s almost definitely not the youngest in that room. One of them, yes, but most likely not the absolute youngest. Most professional dancers report their first official contract at the age of 18. However, troupes are known to have members as young as 15 years old. And since Klaus was hired as choreographer and was able to produce a troupe on such short notice (literally canonically overnight), those are probably all his current students, meaning those kids could be as young as 12 (the age when most professional dancers report starting to circle the professional sphere, however dance classes can start as young as 2 years old). That is further backed up by the fact that every student stayed.

Now I understand that that statement itself might seem weird, however, contrary to popular opinion, dancers are some of the most terrifying people I have ever had the genuine pleasure of meeting. It’s a cut-throat industry and dancers are a lot of times forced to learn to stand up for themselves against abusive choreographers and directors that don’t actually value them. Most dancers I know would have just walked out the moment they saw how Klaus was treating the others, let alone if he started treating them that way. It’s very much an industry based on self-worth to survive. So, the fact that everyone in that class stayed told me that not only were they used to Klaus’s abuse, but they were also more than likely conditioned to take it.

Like I said, most dancers tend to be extremely good at sticking up for themselves. Sadly however, as in the majority of athletics industries, grooming is a huge problem in dance. As I previously mentioned, dance classes can start as young as 2 years old with most professional dancers reporting to have started seriously training at the 4–6-year-old range. That means that young children, I can’t emphasize that enough that these are children, are being exposed to Klaus’s abuse on a daily basis (Choreographers typically are also teachers at a dance school and since anyone with common sense would fire him to avoid a lawsuit, I would believe that Klaus owns the school). And as anyone who has interacted with a child before can attest, they are incredibly trusting. So, if they were told by an authority figure that they’ve been told they can trust, like say a teacher, that something is normal and not a big deal and they’re lucky enough to have a nice teacher as others are worse, they’re going to believe it.

Even if as they get older and realize that they were lied to and are in fact being mistreated, a lot of times they feel trapped or have no support systems outside of the people involved in the bad situation. Especially if you have been going to a specialized school where everyone around you has been going through the same thing and your contact with people outside it is extremely limited. This can be made worse by the power held by higher ups in the dance industry (choreographers, casting directors, etc.). Those higher ups completely control the lifeline of everything in the industry. One bad word from one can seriously be a career ender. Not only that, but those people tend to be more successful, more in the public eye, and therefore can sway public opinion against whoever might have spoken up with ease as well as making court cases where poor dancers are going up against vastly successful higher ups a literal nightmare for the dancers. A lot of times they cannot afford a good attorney and will end up losing the case or being hushed by settlements that they desperately need due to a lack of work.

Therefore, I believe that even if Klaus’s abuse of his students has been brought to light before, it more than likely was swept under the rug. And I believe his abuse of Johnny was evidence proving that theory. Why? Well, Johnny is different than every other student in that room. Not just because he’s never danced before, but because he is not a permeant member of Klaus’s Troupe. He’s only there for the run of the show. And if you are struggling to see why that might be important, let me explain. Johnny has no stake in Klaus’s success. He will not be affected if Klaus’s name is dragged through the mud. He will not be out of a job if Klaus is fired. What Johnny is, as Klaus and every member of that Troupe must know, is a close, personal friend of the director and absolutely can affect their employment status if he wants. He can have them fired and replaced with a different group the next day if he really wanted to beg Buster for a new teacher. Klaus knew this and still chose to target and abuse Johnny. He knew how risky that was and he still did it. That shows to me that he’s gotten away with that kind of thing before. He’s more than likely done this to several other rookies and not faced consequences. And if he’s willing to do it to them, people with no reliance on his success, he definitely is willing to do it to his students, who are relying on him for essentially everything. If Klaus’s reputation is ruined, so is theirs and their resume will probably not get them as far. If Klaus goes under, they suddenly are out of jobs in a city known for its competitive performing job market. If they speak up, they’ll be fired, and Klaus’s reputation will absolutely carry him through any court case they may try. They are very likely end up homeless and hungry if they lose their jobs with him. Klaus has all the power. And he knows it.

�� Those are the primary reasons I believe that not only did Klaus physically, verbally, emotionally, and mentally abuse his students, he more than likely is guilty of several much more sinister crimes like grooming and misuse of power.

Ryan, The Primary Victim

This part of my theory is where it gets a little more intricate. In dance, there’s a role in most organizations known as the Principal Dancer. The Principal Dancer is the top dancer in that company and frequently are given not only solos but starring roles in shows the company is hired to perform. Starting to sound familiar? That’s because that’s exactly what we see happen to Ryan. Ryan is given the role of being Johnny’s dance partner in the duet, one of the starring roles in the scene of a show being put on by a head of the entertainment industry. However, when we look at the students during this announcement, none of them look surprised. Ryan seems to have been the choice that everyone was expecting. On top of that, Ryan is the only one of Klaus’s students to publicly receive praise in front of the others, something that again doesn’t seem to surprise anyone. Klaus wasn’t doing that just to make Johnny feel bad (he would have pointed out how other students were doing better than him too), he clearly has praised Ryan before. Ryan is Klaus’s Principal Dancer. And upon realizing that, I immediately started to worry for him.

Principal Dancers are often used as the example for all other students to follow. They stand at the head of the barre during warmups and help other students during practice. They can even help the teacher/choreographer with the choreography and the class overall. Essentially, they can tend to take on the role of a teaching assistant. And rather unsurprisingly at this point, we see Ryan doing just that during the practice scenes. While we never see them doing group warmups on barre, we do see Ryan seemingly helping another student correct their pose when Johnny shows up late for class. In fact, he’s the only student not doing those poses and is instead walking between the others as if checking what they’re doing. He also then proceeds to do the fight scene choreography perfectly. And while we might be meant to brush that off as “oh, he’s a talented dancer, of course he can do the choreo perfectly”, I’m here to tell you that essentially no one can do choreo absolutely perfectly on their first full run through. And that’s what it’s hinted at being, especially for Ryan. Johnny might have learned bits and pieces of the fight scene choreo before that point, however, Ryan’s role was announced in that very scene, and he was still able to do the choreography perfectly. That means that Ryan had practiced that choreo before, more than likely numerous times till he was able to do it flawlessly. And that means, he was more than likely practicing alone, or at least without Johnny (a neutral third party who would note and potentially protest any abuse), with Klaus.

We know that Klaus has hit his students before, hell we see him do it multiple times in the movie itself, and we know that he also verbally and emotionally berates his students on the regular. We can see by how his students react to this, how scared they look, that they too are targets. And statistically, the person closest to the abuser is typically their primary victim. In this instance, we know the person closest to Klaus within the troupe is Ryan.

What’s more, the behaviors of Ryan and Klaus within the movie hint to this fact as well (this is probably where I go into over analysis but I’m too far deep in this rabbit hole now so). For starters, let’s look at the scene where Johnny, Buster, and Gunter enter the training room. The first thought that blared through my mind was their shoes. If you didn’t know, street shoes are not allowed on practice room floors, like ever. It can wear down the flooring and therefore make it extremely dangerous for the dancers. So, the fact that the dancers didn’t say anything in of itself was odd, but then again, the Principal Dancer might have been the one expected to speak up in that instance since it involved the show’s director. Speaking of the Principal Dancer, Ryan is the one dancer we do not see in that opening scene. He’s nowhere to be found and neither is Klaus. Now, Klaus being gone on the first day of a show isn’t that surprising. Choreographers have a lot of people they have to talk to such as the director, the publicity manager, the wardrobe department, etc. but Ryan being missing is odd. For one, he would technically be, at least honorarily judging by the troupe’s dynamic, in charge while Klaus is gone, and two, there’s no way they didn’t know they would be getting their new dancer (Johnny) that morning. Having no one there to formally met him or tell him the expectations would spell disaster to a cohesive first practice. And yet Ryan is missing. He could have just stepped out for a moment, true, or been helping Klaus with something, but we never see him being treated as an assistant choreographer so that seems a bit far-fetched to me. Therefore, I have chosen to believe theory three: he wasn’t allowed to be there.

Now some of you might realize where this theory is headed, but still, let’s keep going. Why wouldn’t a Principal Dancer, the top performer in the company, be allowed to be there when the new student was introduced for the first time? I don’t think it was due to the new student, it was due to who would be there with him. Johnny didn’t walk into that practice studio alone, he walked in with the director and the screen writer, two people of power on set. What’s more is that those two are currently being backed by one of the heads of the biggest entertainment industries in what’s hinted at being the world. They have power and they can use it. If Ryan would have said something to them, perhaps warning them of what Klaus is like or asking for help, they would immediately have them removed from the show and done anything in their power to help Ryan. Therefore, Klaus kept Ryan close or might have even sent him out to do something to avoid him saying anything that could hurt his image. And what’s more, I think Ryan would have. Let’s look at Ryan’s behaviors throughout the movie now, shall we?

First off, I will admit Ryan is a character with one to two lines and a surprisingly limited amount of screen time for actually being decently important to the plot (though he might have more/close to the same amount screen time than Alfonso if I remember correctly. I’ll have to check.). The first time we actually see Ryan, it’s at Crystal’s Auditions. However, he’s not auditioning. From what I can see (and common fan theories) he’s there to support someone, maybe a friend, maybe a child of a sponsor of the dance company. And he’s also more than likely supposed to be networking for the company as well, getting these potential rich sponsors to like him enough to support Klaus’s company. That is a job assigned to Principal Dancers at certain companies after all. In the scene where we see Ryan, we actually notice him mostly paying attention to Johnny (yes, I do ship them, no, that is not where this is going, nice try). In fact, we see him look him up and down and watch him the entire time he’s in the room. Why is that important for non-shipping reasons? Because there is no way Ryan did not recognize Johnny the next day when he showed up in Klaus’s class. He saw him as a janitor and the next time he sees him apparently his director is friends with Clay Calloway, and they can put on an award-winning show with only three weeks of prep? Yeah, there’s no way Ryan didn’t know that wasn’t a lie. He knew they snuck in. And he didn’t say anything. Klaus would have absolutely used that as ammo against Johnny if he knew and we don’t know enough about the other troupe members to know if they would have told him if Ryan had mentioned it, so it’s a decently safe assumption that he didn’t say a word. He was willing to protect them and their secrets, no questions asked.

Now, onto where we actually see a fair bit of Ryan, the dance classes. This is where we finally see Ryan being acknowledged as the Principal Dancer as well as a surprising amount of his personality. For starters, we can tell he’s extremely patient and dedicated. He never seems annoyed or upset that Johnny’s struggling so much to the point they have to go long. He is just calm and steady, doing the choreo over and over again the exact same way so Johnny can get used to the same movements. He also has clearly been dancing since he was a kid to reach the rank of Principal Dancer when he’s as young as he is (I always though he and Johnny were close in age, 18-19 years old). So, what do we now know about Ryan? That he’s trustworthy, patient, and very dedicated.

Now on to why this personality we see hints to Ryan actually being a threat to Klaus’s reputation. Ryan doesn’t act like Klaus. And why does that mean Ryan doesn’t agree with Klaus’s views? Well, a lot of times when people of similar ideologies and behaviors are together, they amplify those traits in each other (think about things like political rallies or groups of friends). Or think of how couples who have been together a long time develop the same habits or how kids mimic their caretakers (and since Ryan is Klaus’s Principal Dancer and probably been training with him for years that probably the closest fit). However, Ryan’s mannerisms and personality seem to be the exact opposites of his teacher’s. He’s even willing to sneak into Crystal Theatre to help them put on the show apparently behind Klaus’s back, seeming to lead the other students there. He doesn’t align himself with his teacher’s ideology towards Johnny at all. In fact, we see him being extremely supportive of the other boy during the show and practices. At this point, it’s pretty clear to me that Ryan has definitely grown disillusioned with whatever Klaus probably told him as a young student and in fact seems to rebel against his teacher’s wishes constantly. He wouldn’t have held back if he had been alone with Buster and Gunter that day. He would have warned them.

You might be asking “So if this is the case, why hasn’t Klaus fired him then?” Well, simple, sponsors. Remember how I said earlier that Principal Dancers are commonly used for networking between different troupes? Well, as we can observe, Ryan seems to be a very friendly and outgoing guy. He seems like the kind of person who can make friends quickly and easily. And while that is great for making those networking connections, it also means those connections are more than likely fonder of Ryan, a cheerful and friendly young adult, then Klaus, who is shown to be a perfectionist and egotistical. If Klaus was to fire Ryan (especially since I don’t think Ryan would sign an NDA), Ryan would more than likely go to those sponsors and ask for help. He likely could financially cripple the troupe if he wanted to. Klaus is kinda stuck with him at this point.

And that being stuck with him, especially since Ryan is almost definitely under contract, spells worse news for Ryan. If he leaves and breaks contract, he can be sued, and that lawsuit would probably destroy his future in the dance industry. And if he stays, Klaus more than likely is going to target him even more to try to eliminate the chances of Ryan saying anything (gaslighting, scarily common these days). Ryan is trapped between abuse and essentially financial desolation for the foreseeable future.

That wraps up by deep dive into the theory that sprung to life after watching the interactions and behaviors of the dance troupe and Klaus in Sing 2. And in the case of a TL:DR scenario, I believe that Klaus has committed much worse crimes than what we’re shown on screen and I believe that Ryan is his primary victim.

#sing 2 #sing ryan #sing the dance troupe #i am not tagging klaus #why? because of literally everything i wrote about #again no hate to people who like his character #just please acknowledge how he treats his students onscreen is not healthy or normal #just because it's like that on dance moms doesn't mean its good #and by the way this isn''t even the worst of what could be happening #I avoided writing about that here due to personal triggers #but if you are curious and have a strong stomach google abuse and dance and scroll past the videos to the articles #it's fucking horrifying #all events above are based on real world occurences #my thoughts and sympathies to those victims who went through things like this #I wish the worst on your abuser #for all dancers who potentially are reading this after seeing their own classes reflected in klaus's #there are resources to help you #please please please reach out to someone #that is not normal or ok #i will go a bit more in detail about this in my fic of course #but for now this is everything

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