cyrus-badman

[cyrus-badman]

I've got a little scene from my loft AU for you guys!!! Hope you like it!!

Game night

Over the last two months, Kurt, Rachel, Santana, Blaine, and Sam have fallen into an unintentional yet rigid routine of sorts.

Mondays are the quiet, stay-in nights. On these days, everyone is tired from the day, still decompressing after the hard shift from weekend to work or school.

On Tuesdays, the five of them all go out together, either to Callbacks―the karaoke bar Rachel was so eager to introduce them all to, frequented by all of her NYADA friends, Brody included (Sam likes Brody; he’s nice, he’s hot, and they both understand what it’s like to compromise yourself for money)―or just out to dinner for a nice evening. Typically, they opt for the former, though that inevitably morphs into Rachel Berry Diva Hour, wherein the diva competes with herself for Best Bar Performance of All Time™ and “allows” everyone else to participate by being her “adoring audience of loving fans”. One time, Rachel and Kurt dragged them all to yet another Broadway show, though Sam can’t remember its title. He was reluctant at first―he has this thing where he pretends to hate all musical theater, and he’s pretty sure Blaine has to resist the urge to throttle him every time he does it; Sam wouldn’t worry too much about that, though, as Blaine looks adorable when he’s pretending to be upset with him―but after the show, he was vibrating in place, and even engaged in an enthusiastic conversation with Rachel―Sam is still surprised that that ever happened anytime he thinks about it―wherein the two of them practically talked over each other in all their excitement.

Wednesdays are movie nights. It’s a little unconventional, but in their case, they have other plans for the last day of the work week. Every Wednesday, the five of them (sometimes six, if Sebastian is over) alternate between who gets to pick the film. Most often, this results in a rom-com from Kurt, a Broadway classic as Rachel’s choice (Funny Girl more times than not), a superhero movie for both Blaine and Sam and some obscure indie film about feminism and “hot bitches” as Santana’s pick.

On Thursdays, Blaine and Sam typically have the loft to themselves because Santana takes late shifts at the Spotlight Diner, Rachel’s Funny Girl rehearsals run until seven on those days, and Kurt goes out somewhere with Sebastian (now that Sam thinks about it, there’s probably a reason for that―one that starts with B and ends with lam). Sam loves Thursdays for that reason. His and Blaine’s constant presence at the Hummelpezberry loft is a nuisance to their three friends, a fact that encourages them to stop by more often than they normally would, which is already a lot.

That means that Fridays are reserved for game nights. It wasn't intentional at first, and it's not like they've always done it. In fact, Kurt once mentioned that he, Rachel, and Santana had never had game nights before Blaine and Sam’s arrival in New York.

But one Friday a couple of months ago, the five of them were in the parlor, watching yet another of Rachel’s guilty pleasure films, when the power suddenly flickered out. It was late August, the rain was raging outside, and the electricity in Bushwick really wasn't that reliable―it still isn't, one of the many reasons Blaine and Sam picked an apartment just outside of the neighborhood―so naturally, they were bathed in darkness for the unforeseeable future. Of course, that was, until Blaine pulled out flashlights and lanterns and Rachel lit candles. Sam always used to roll his eyes when people gave each other candles as gifts, but at that moment, his opinion shifted―man, those candles sure smelled good, almost as good as his boyfriend and his raspberry hair gel.

So, of course, someone―probably Blaine, because of course it was Blaine―busted out a stack of games that had no business being in an adult household (“Who even put these in here?!” Rachel had demanded, followed by the evil cackle of Santana). They started with Uno, but that soon morphed into Sorry! and then Monopoly. It had devolved quickly into Rachel accusing Santana of stacking the deck in Uno (“HOW?!” Santana had cackled, flinging cards like throwing stars). It was fun and allowed them to spend quality time together where they could talk and interact. The week after, they’d been debating their next movie choice when Sam suggested they play another game because it had been a fun, pleasant experience the week before. Santana griped and grumbled, but ultimately, she was out-voted as Rachel jumped in glee (heehee) at Sam’s request.

When Sebastian started becoming a regular face at the Hummelpezberrys (a term coined by Sam for Kurt, Rachel, and Santana’s apartment), he would join in on their group activities, and soon enough, it became a thing. And Sam loves game nights; he savors the moments when they can all just disconnect from the electronics and enjoy each other’s company.

In high school, his family couldn't afford luxuries like game consoles and cell phones, so they’d spent a lot of time making memories, telling jokes, and just generally having fun as a family. Game nights were a regular occurrence, too, and Sam thinks it’s nice to “go back to his roots,” in a way.

This week is different.

Normally, Blaine and Sam pair up for team games automatically, and Sebastian forces Kurt to be his partner, leaving Rachel and Santana as the third, reluctant duo. Game nights like these usually consist of Rachel and Santana bickering endlessly about the most mundane aspects of the game (because Rachel insists on following the rules and apparently, Santana doesn’t see the logic in that), Sebastian self-sabotaging his and Kurt’s team with the royal goal of annoying Kurt (an objective he reaches every time), and Blaine slipping into Sam’s lap, which leads them to make out indiscreetly and quite loudly. By the end of the evening, Blaine is always a giggling mess in Sam’s lap, Kurt’s glaring daggers in Sebastian’s direction, and Santana is making fun of everyone while tossing popcorn at her friends. This is all while Rachel paces in the corner because she’s an OCD subject, and not only is there popcorn scattered on the floor, but the pieces of what used to resemble a game of charades are strewn about on the couch, under the coffee table, and―somehow―in the doorway to the kitchen. The chaos is fun, Sam argues, and Rachel turns her murderous stare on him.

...

Tonight, the volume of the apartment hit a maximum before the games even began. The plan is to play charades, a setup that Blaine happily complies with, adjusting the game pieces on the coffee table with that cute, irresistible grin of his. Just like last week, and the week before that, Blaine is wearing another of Sam’s sweatshirts, the sleeves drowning him. The neckline of the sweatshirt hangs off Blaine’s smaller frame loosely, exposing his pale, olive-colored collarbone. Sam tries not to drool, pushing the fresh swarm of memories from the sight to the back of his mind. It’s game night. He’s gotta stay locked in.

Before Blaine and Sam can even exchange more than one glance―yes, they're always partners, it's an unspoken agreement―Kurt clinks his wine glass, drawing everyone’s attention. “Teams, everyone,” he announces, wine glass and hourglass in hand. He scans the group solemnly like he’s about to make a crucial battle strategy assessment. “This time, we’re being strategic.”

Already hyped up on her third glass of wine, Rachel whirls on the only couple in the room, exclaiming, “Yes! We have to be strategic. Samuel and Blaine can’t be on the same team again! We don’t need a repeat of last week.”

“Why not?” Blaine asks, bottom lip protruding in a dramatic pout. Sam leans back into the cushiony couch, urging Blaine to relax further into him. The brunette is leaning against Sam’s chest, his dark, curly hair tousled from where Sam’s fingers have been carding through it, Sam’s sweatshirt now hanging off one shoulder. Sam can’t help but soak up the warmth of his boyfriend against his body. Blaine’s head is tucked beneath the blonde’s chin, his dark curls tickling Sam’s jaw with their soft whispers. For a moment, it’s entirely too easy to forget the madness around them and slip into the bliss that wraps around him and Blaine.

Rachel narrows her eyes, glaring, a passionate fire burning in her gaze. The look is scathing on its own. “Because you never actually play, Blaine. You get distracted!” Her eyes pointedly flick to Sam at that.

“By what?” Blaine prods again, batting his lashes with faux innocence. His hand snakes up to rest a tad too high on Sam’s thigh.

“That.” She jabs a finger at the brunette, then at his blond boyfriend. “That’s what.”

Trying to suppress a laugh but failing miserably, Sam tucks Blaine further into his side. Blaine grins and tilts his head up to kiss Sam’s cheek. As he pulls back to rest his head on his boyfriend’s shoulders, his smile turns soft. “Can’t help it,” he explains, shrugging.

Properly ruining the moment, Rachel’s voice cuts through the romantic haze. “Well, you’re not on the same team tonight,” she declares, voice firm. “You’re with Kurt.”

The boy in question jerks his head around to gape at her, practically choking on his wine. “What?!” he shrieks. “Rachel, no! You know I can’t―”

“Too late,” the short girl interrupts, cutting off whatever inevitably rude and offensive comment Kurt was about to make. She herds Blaine over to Kurt’s side of the room. Blaine’s ex sighs exaggeratedly but protests no further, shooting Blaine a glare that clearly screams don’t ruin this for me. Blaine just shrugs and smiles innocently in response.

Turning back to Sam, Rachel grabs the blonde’s arm with surprising strength. “You’re with me. We’re going to win this.” And then all of a sudden, she’s pinching him―which really hurts, by the way―while Kurt whisks Blaine away. Sam’s not too sure how he feels about that; yes, he knows Blaine is completely, one hundred percent over Kurt and head-over-heels for him, but still, the insecurity lingers. Blaine and Kurt were together for a long time. Blaine used to insist that they were soulmates. The fear is justified in Sam’s mind.

Sam blinks at Rachel, who is still pinching Sam’s arm (This is abuse, Sam thinks distantly). She announces yet again that Sam is her partner, which he never agreed to, but oh, well. He can feel Blaine’s puppy-dog eyes burning a hole in his skin. But Sam can’t exactly do anything about it, so he merely shrugs helplessly. “Sorry, B. Rules are rules.”

A loud snort reminds them all that Santana is still here and banking on a win tonight. “Oh, this is gonna be good.” She turns to Sebastian, leaning against the kitchen counter and tossing back popcorn like he’s watching a soap opera: prime entertainment. “What do you say, Smythe? You and me?”

She doesn't even have to ask. The boy in question is already smirking as he replies, “Obviously. Let’s ruin their lives.”

Apparently, Kurt and Rachel didn't think this through all the way. Sam can see both of them pale instantly when they turn to the Latina and her counterpart. Santana and Sebastian are wearing matching evil grins, and Sam knows he should probably feel dread pooling in his gut right about now, but he really doesn’t. Tonight is guaranteed to be even more chaotic than last week, and that’s a plus in Sam’s book.

He can understand her concerns, though. With Tana and Seb working together, it’s surely possible that no one will win this game. Either that or one of them will end up rage-quitting and/or flipping the board game over. The mental image of Santana Lopez and Sebastian Smythe overturning a table is apparently so hilarious that it deserves an outward reaction; Sam barks out a laugh when he pictures it, and everyone turns to stare at him like he’s crazy―well, Rachel does. Santana appears unsurprised, Kurt just looks exasperated, Sebastian’s amused, and Blaine rolls his eyes fondly and curls into Sam’s chest. The blonde wraps an arm around his boyfriend’s waist and drops a kiss into his dark curls. He loves Blaine’s natural hair and spends every waking moment making sure Blaine knows it.

Sam supposes it wouldn't be the end of the world if they were on opposing teams for one game of charades. In fact, that might even make it easier to win; Blaine is terrible at this game, whereas Sam has been working on his impressions for years and finds it quite easy to translate voices into body language, hand gestures, and expressions.

Seemingly, Rachel has been trying to argue against the Sebtana duo for the last few minutes. It doesn’t seem like she’s had any success.

“I’m just saying,” Santana’s voice cuts through the comfortable atmosphere encasing Blane and Sam like a scalpel, “if I’m stuck with him―” she jerks a thumb towards the tall boy, whose smirk only widens, “―we’re guaranteed to win. Because, as much as I despise admitting this, Smythe’s clever stupidity might actually come in handy.” She pauses then, flashing a wicked grin at Rachel. “Unlike your usual partners, Berry. Dead weight is, unfortunately, not conducive to victory.”

Wide-eyed and gaping, Rachel splutters at the implications, hands flying to her hips in the universal gesture of I’m about to unleash the wrath of a thousand stage moms. In other words, Super-Saiyan, Sam thinks. “Excuse me? I am an excellent teammate.”

“Riiight,” the Latina drawls, drawing out the syllable as she tosses a kernel of popcorn down the hatch. “Just like you’re an excellent person to sit next to during a movie when your constant running commentary makes me want to toss myself off the fire escape.”

Rachel’s eyes widen further at that, mouth opening as if she’s about to fire something just as long and offensive back at her. Sam wouldn't doubt that she would if not for Kurt’s intervention.

The countertenor pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes rolling hard. “I thought this was supposed to be fun.”

Blaine, ever the optimist, takes the opening to chime in brightly, “It is!” Sam doesn't know if it’s because he's trying to diffuse the situation or because he’s just genuinely fucking oblivious. He’s willing to bet it’s the latter. His boyfriend claps his hands together as he beams at their friends. “And if we could all just channel our inner holiday spirits―”

Santana cuts him off, already shaking her head dismissively. “Unless the spirit is tequila, I don’t give a shit.”

Up until now, Sebastian has been twirling a pen in his fingers lazily, obviously having repeated the gesture enough times to be a pro at it. Now, he grins and pitches into the conversation. “What’s the matter, Lopez? Afraid I’ll upstage you in front of your little Broadway BFF?”

“Please,” the Latina scoffs. “You couldn’t upstage a rusty tambourine.” A laugh escapes Sam at the odd choice of words; sometimes Santana can be so random.

Blaine’s quiet chuckle vibrates in Sam’s chest. “Think we should referee?” he questions privately, craning his neck to look up at his boyfriend. Sam pats the brunet’s thigh and shakes his head.

“Nah, let them go at it. Adds flavor.”

Sam can tell that Santana’s preparing to interject once again, hands poised to gesticulate animatedly and eyes gleaming with fiery intent, but Kurt beats her to it, stepping between her and Sebastian. “Enough!” he demands, fixing them both with his best I’ve had it with your nonsense glare. “We’re here to have a civilized game night. Not to recreate an episode of Real Housewives of Bushwick.”

His comment may not land exactly the way it was intended, but it does ease some of the tension. Santana cackles, head thrown back as the evil gleam in her eye resurfaces. “I’m definitely Teresa,” she claims with a smirk. “Blaine can be Melissa.”

The boy in question nods as if accepting his fate, while Rachel, clearly grasping for some sense of order, inserts herself into the discussion. “Fine. If we’re all done now, can we just―”

“You never answered my question," Blaine points out. His tone is innocent, but there's an impish lilt to his voice that betrays his intentions. His hand, moments ago resting on Sam’s thigh, now inches upward marginally. “What distracts me during the game?”

Biting back a laugh, Sam watches as Rachel narrows her eyes at Blaine, her expression scandalized and accusatory in equal measure. She points at the two of them wildly, screeching, “That! That right there is exactly what I’m talking about!”

Blaine gasps dramatically in response. “Rachel Barbara Berry, I am appalled! Are you suggesting that I―”

“Stop it.” Sam thinks it was a pretty good Rachel impression and offers his boyfriend a thumbs up. Grin widening, Blaine latches onto Sam’s thumb and tugs it toward himself, hugging it to his chest in an adorable gesture. Sam knows he's smiling like a dope and he couldn't care less. Rachel goes on, unfazed by Blam’s display of affection. “You’re not charming your way out of this. We all know exactly what happens the second you and Sam end up on the same team.”

Sebastian, who has been reclining against the arm of the couch, perks up. “Oh, this is so much more entertaining than charades.”

“You,” Kurt says sharply, pointing at Sebastian, “zip it.” At that, Sebastian smirks but makes a show of miming zipping his lips, locking them, and throwing away the key.

Then Rachel stands and takes a deep breath, clearly summoning every ounce of patience in her body. She grabs Blaine by the wrist and tugs him toward the coffee table, where Kurt is already arranging the charade cards. “You’re on task tonight, Blaine Anderson,” she orders, leaving no room for discussion. “No distractions.”

As Blaine takes his place, dropping to the floor next to Kurt and crossing his legs, he turns to Sam. The brunette’s cheeky grin is already firmly in place like Sam knew it would be. The blonde wiggles his fingers in an exaggerated wave, mouthing, Behave. It’s wishful thinking, really, but the least Sam can do is try.

“Only if you promise to stop being so distracting,” the shorter boy retorts. They both laugh a little, just subtle enough to avoid prompting an icy glare from their respective teammates. Sam sighs as Blaine shifts across from him, trying to get comfy. It’s going to be a long night.

He rubs his hands together and leans forward on the couch, hanging off the edge of the cushion. “Alright, let’s get this game on then!”

...

Predictably, the game devolves almost immediately.

The room is an explosion of noise and motion. Rachel is too competitive for Sam to keep up with. She keeps barking guesses at Sam’s dramatized impressions like she’s auditioning for a role in a war film, and it’s confusing as hell. Meanwhile, Blaine and Kurt are bickering intently over whether Blaine’s charade for tap-dancing penguin is accurate (of course, Sam knows it’s not, but he values his sexytime and so he’s not going to say anything). In the background (or amidst the chaos, depending on your perspective), Santana and Sebastian are making the game into a gigantic gag, using every turn to act out increasingly suggestive gestures worthy enough to make Kurt turn red.

It all goes completely to hell when Santana grabs a stack of cards and decides to fling them about, tossing them at her partner like ninja stars. With dramatic grace and inelegant yelps, Seb manages to dodge most of the artillery, though Santana’s able to land the occasional hit square in his face. And where Blaine is terrible at guessing, Kurt is apparently shit at miming. Kurt’s pulled the Phantom of the Opera card from the deck and is nearly in tears desperately trying and failing to imitate it.

“You’re useless,” Blaine mutters under his breath, standing next to Kurt to offer his own interpretation. He proceeds then to deliver a melodramatic rendition of The Phantom Sam has ever seen (which isn’t really saying much, considering Sam hasn’t even seen it on Broadway, but still). Kurt scowls at him.

Sam turns back to his own task; he and Rachel are trying to decide whether Titanic counts as only one word or two. “I’m pretty sure it’s two,” Sam claims, scratching his head. “Like, there’s Titanic the movie, and then there’s the boat.”

Rachel narrows her eyes at him, and it sends a little chill down Sam’s spine. That girl can be really spooky when she wants to be. “Do I look like a dictionary to you, Samuel?” It’s supposed to be a rhetorical question, Sam knows, but he can’t resist.

“I dunno, you kinda look like you could fit in a dictionary,” the blonde quips with a grin. The girl’s icy glare is the last thing he sees before a book is flying at his face, whacking him in the arm when he uses his forearm as a shield. “Ow!” he whines, rubbing the injury with a wince. Rachel shoots him a prim, smug smile, clearly the victor. But only because she didn’t get thwacked in the arm with a book!

“B!” Sam calls, because throwing books at each other is fun and all, but they are playing a game, after all. His boyfriend turns to him, expectant smile on his lips, and Sam feels a grin forming when he sees the brunette. “What’s the ruling? Titanic, one word or two?”

He seems to consider the question for a moment, finger on his chin as he contemplates. After a few beats, the curly-haired boy smirks. “Whatever Rachel doesn’t want; we’ll do the opposite.” At this, Santana bursts into a fit of laughter while Rachel releases an indignant squawk.

After Rachel claims to disown the group, Sam lets himself grin, leaning back into the couch. He watches his boyfriend light up the room with his easy charm and disarming smiles that always steal Sam’s breath. Regardless of how unpredictable and utterly chaotic these game nights are, Blaine somehow always manages to make them perfect.

By the time Blaine’s next turn rolls around, he’s already a giggling mess, falling apart at the seams. Sam watches him try to mime “Superman” and it’s not even half-bad. Sam’s surprised, if not slightly impressed even. Of course, it was too good to be true because halfway through, the curly-haired boy slips on the carpet, landing sprawled out on the floor. The game cards flutter around him, one landing on his nose somehow. Blaine stares at it, going cross-eyed, and Sam wonders once again how the boy doesn’t get headaches from that. Crossing his eyes has always made Sam’s head hurt! It isn’t very fair, is all. His boyfriend blows at the piece of paper, trying to get it off him, but he only manages to launch it straight up in the air and back down on his face. The brunette huffs in mock-annoyance for a beat before bursting into laughter. His attempts to rise back to his feet are futile, as his shoulders are shaking so hard that he can’t keep his balance.

“You’re useless!” Kurt hisses, hands thrown up in indignance. His glare slides over to Rachel for a second before snapping back to Blaine. “I don’t know why I even―”

Yeah, like that is going to end well. Sam steps in, cutting Kurt off before he can go on a whole-ass tangent like he inevitably would if no one stopped him. “Alright,” the blonde says, stepping over to help Blaine to his feet. “Time out. Someone’s had too much wine.” Despite his words and the playful tinge of annoyance in his tone, Sam chuckles fondly as he scoops Blaine into his arms with minimal effort. The shorter boy reflexively wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s neck, still laughing as he buries his face in Sam’s shoulder.

Hands on her hips, Rachel stares at them expectantly. “Samuel. Put him down,” she says cooly. “We’re playing to win.”

From somewhere to his right, Sam hears a snort followed by, “Yeah, like that's gonna happen, Berry.” He tries to hide his smile by nuzzling into Blaine’s hair, pretending that he’s kissing Blaine’s head rather than secretly sniggering at Santana’s comment.

“I think Blaine needs a break,” Sam says once he’s regained his bearings. He does not put Blaine down. Take that, Rachel! He grins down at his boyfriend, who’s already gazing up at him, his wide, glossy amber eyes filled with affection and awe. It makes Sam’s heart skip a beat, being looked at like that. So tenderly, so lovingly. The blond clears his throat. “He’s, uh, clearly too drunk to keep up the game.”

Santana smirks, jabbing a finger at the pair. Her fiery eyes are dancing with knowing amusement. “Oh, that’s your excuse? What are you two sneaking off to do, huh?”

Kurt wrinkles his nose while Rachel scoffs indignantly. Sam can almost hear her squeaky upset voice, The audacity! Blaine just giggles, nuzzling Sam’s neck. “I don’t think you want me to answer that,” he responds, the mischief in his voice clear as day.

“Gross!” Kurt exclaims, throwing a pillow at them as Sam carries Blaine toward the hallway. He misses by a landslide as predicted, and when Sam passes by the weapon of choice, he kicks it back toward the living room, flashing Kurt a wink, his tongue poking out.

With a mock-salute, Sebastian shakes his head and says, heavy with amusement, “Godspeed, Evans. Don’t break anything.”

Sam grins at that. This is one of the main reasons he and Blaine love crashing here so much; the commentary is hilarious! Sebastian’s approval is always welcome and feeds Sam’s pride a bit, Santana’s sexual remarks are funny and somewhat accurate, and Kurt and Rachel’s indignant exasperation has the ability to bring Sam up from any bad moodswings he may have. Not that Blaine’s company alone wouldn’t fix that immediately.

As they disappear around the corner, Sam can hear the glare in her voice as Rachel addresses the remaining players. “That’s it. We’re locking them out next time.” Although her voice is resolute, Sam knows it’s not going to happen. Rachel and Kurt have been bullshitting about revoking his and Blaine’s loft privileges since the first time they'd been caught in action, but they’ve never actually followed through with the threats.

Santana’s cackle echoes through the corners of the apartment. “Oh sure, Berry. Like that’ll stop them.”

[cyrus-badman]

Basically, these were my very early notes as far as the Glee Season 5 AU goes. I have many more notes and highlights on a Google doc, but this bit here are the beginnings of my vision, so enjoy!

This fic actually started as a Pezberry 5+1 because I wanted to broaden my horizons by writing Pezberry (I still struggle a bit, so if anyone would like to help me out, it would be greatly appreciated 🙃). I had this idea for a little ficlet where rachel and santana were being domestic in the loft without even realizing, and well, this is the result. Below are my notes on that!

[cyrus-badman]

I've been outlining and drafting ideas for a Blam/Pezberry/Kurtbastian S5 AU and i can't wait to get cracking on it! it'll be established Blam with slow-burn Pezberry and Kurtbastian. I'm so excited to share some of it :)

[cyrus-badman]

[cyrus-badman]

Hey tumblr sorry I haven't like posted anything in literally a year but I just want you all to know that I'm still here and I'm still planning on posting stuff :) although I have no idea when that will be because like every month or something a new fandom comes into my life so now I'm following like literally 20 different fandoms or something lol

Anyways the point I came here to make is that I want to post more stuff in the future even if it's random and it's shitty so you have that to look forward to 🙃

[cyrus-badman]

Remember your reckless spontaneity. That's the best part of you, and the greatest thing to ever happen to me. Besides mom. I know my own life.

[cyrus-badman]

💙

edit: *sobs* can’t believe i forgot to add "little elf”!

[cyrus-badman]

OH MY GOD FAITH IN THE FUTURE IS ONE YEAR OLD ALREADY ??

I CANNOT BELIEVE IT!!!!

❤️🖤

[cyrus-badman]

Okay I'm wondering what kind of tyrus shippers we are here, so what are you guys' favorite tyrus fics? Personally I've read a lot but one of my favorites was one where Cyrus was a ghost and TJ could see him. Idr the title tho. Another fav was a To All the Boys AU. So drop a comment with your favorite if you want I'd love to hear from you!

[cyrus-badman]

Everyone's all for being unique & different until:

You're trans/not cis

You're queer/not straight

You're neurodivergent

You're disabled

You use service animals

You use mobility aids

You have really strong interests/hyperfixations

You use fidgets/stim often

You have/need a caretaker

You look, act, talk, walk, etc. differently

You're a minority in any capacity

Basically, be weird, unless you're "actually" weird.

[cyrus-badman]

So I'm thinking about doing a Tyrus TATBILB AU but that'd be a big investment. How would you guys like that?

[cyrus-badman]

reblog this w the top 5 only shows u could rewatch over and over again

[cyrus-badman]

Okay so if you've read my latest post you should've (hopefully) seen that the last fic in the set was incomplete. I have a few ideas of where I might want to take it but nothing too solid so if anyone else has any suggestions please feel free to contact me about them. You can message me through tumblr, send it through the ask box, comment on this post OR the last one, whichever you prefer. I'd love to hear from you!

[cyrus-badman]

I know its not Pride Month anymore but this needs to happen

The erasure of Andi Mack makes me so sad as someone who watched it as it was airing. I understand the show had issues regarding a Certain Actor, but it still makes me really sad for the people who worked on it. And because the show is such a gem. I want to write about Andi Mack in general one day, but because it's pride month I want to briefly talk about the show through that lens specifically.

Firstly, Andi Mack has so many episodes missing on Disney+ AND DisneyNow that it would be impossible to try to watch the series in full by using any of these apps. Until recently, DisneyNow had completely removed Andi Mack from its app, and put it back on with only an incomplete season three and without any of the games that were there originally (like Andi's Texts). This, I'm assuming, has to do with that Certain Actor, but the missing episodes has also made including Cyrus in any pride posts or collections harder than it should be (more on that in a second).

On Disney+, there is a "Pride Collection" which does not include anything Andi Mack related despite Cyrus being the first openly gay main character on Disney Channel. His coming out scenes (plural because of the individual scenes with Buffy, Andi and then Jonah) were extremely prominent not only to real people, but also to Cyrus' character as a whole. Two out of the three episodes where Cyrus comes out - "Hey, Who Wants Pizza?" (season 2, episode 1) | "Cyrus' Bash-Mitzvah!" (season 2, episode 13) | "One in a Minyan" (season 3, episode 11) - are not even available on Disney+, nor are any of them on DisneyNow (sidebar, Andi Mack isn't featured on DisneyNow 's pride section either). What's even more frustrating is that the series finale, "We Were Here", where Cyrus and TJ are confirmed to have mutual feelings for each other, are available on both Disney+ AND DisneyNow, yet it does not feature on either app's pride sections. Cyrus being gay wasn't just implied, he literally says the words "I'm gay" the third time he comes out and the second time he clearly says he has a crush on Jonah. It's not easy to overlook him as gay, and as a character who should be included in those pride collections, so his omission is clearly deliberate.

Even if the coming out episodes weren't featured, at the very least, any episode with Cyrus and TJ after they became friends should count; episodes like "For the Last Time", "The Cake That Takes the Cake", "Mount Rushmore or Less", "Something to Talk A-Boot" and of course the series finale. Surprising no one, only three of the Tyrus episodes I listed (and there are more) are actually on Disney+. I mean, they included a Miraculous episode in the Disney+ "Pride Episodes" collection that had the most minute blink-and-you'll-miss-it scene of Alec in a wig, so why not include any episode at all with TJ and Cyrus? Idk the whole thing is just very frustrating for so many reasons.

Edit: if anyone is interested in putting together a fan collection of art, stories etc etc of Andi Mack or letters detailing what the show meant to you that we could somehow share with Terri Minsky to let her know how much we appreciate her and Andi Mack, please dm me. There has to be some way we can show her that we haven’t forgotten about the show or her. I can always make another post if there’s enough interest to spread the word

[cyrus-badman]

Is there anything that makes me happier than the Harry Potter cast basically saying "fuck you JKR" and speaking up against transphobia? The answer is no

[cyrus-badman]

Heyy tumblr!! So i just found some andi mack fanfiction that i wrote in like 7th grade and its kinda bad but i thought id share it with you anyway! Theres two complete ones in there and another that i never got around to finishing, nor do i remember what the plot was supposed to be. If anyone has any ideas or suggestions please feel free to share them with me.

Enjoy and like i said these might be rlly bad i literally wrote them like three years ago ahaha

Also I'm rlly sorry it took me so long to upload this, I've had lots of homework for the past few weeks and also I was being a lazy slug so I never got around to it. But it's here now, and I hope you enjoy!

Cool Dude (yeah i know the title sucks but bear with me pls) (also btw i think this is supposed to take place in like season 2? I rlly dont remember so whenever feels right to you)

"Heeeey, bruuuh...," Cyrus said, trying to sound cool. Buffy and Andi broke out laughing.

When Andi finally caught her breath, she said, "Sorry, Cyrus. I just--I couldn't keep a straight face!" She burst out again. Cyrus sighed.

"Guys, I'm really nervous. I need you to help me," he whined.

"We're trying, Cyrus," Andi reminded him.

"Oh, no! It's Jonah! He's here!" Cyrus, worried, peered over Andi's shoulder. Andi turned around and Buffy--who was sitting next to Cyrus in the booth--leaned over to see.

"He's coming over! He's coming over!"

"Cyrus, calm down," Buffy tried to soothe him.

"Hey, guys," Jonah greeted, sliding in next to Andi in the booth.

"Hi, Jonah," Cyrus replied hoarsely, trying to sound cool and kerp his nerves down. Jonah made a face.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Oh, nothin'. No BD. I'm cool," Cyrus answered in his weird, I'm-trying-to-be-cool-but-I-make-this-voice-so-I-don't-sound-like-it voice. He looked at Buffy like help me Buffy just shrugged.

"Youu're acting...weird." Jonah looked thoroughly confused and concerned. "Cyrus, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm--I'm okay. I just--I need to go." Cyrus stood and fled the Spoon.

Jonah looked over at Andi. "Is he going to be okay?" Andi put her hand on Jonah's.

"...Yeah. Yeah, he'll be okay." She and Buffy stood up. "But we should...go, you know..."

"Yeah...Yeah, of course." As they left, Amber walked toward Jonah. She sat down across from him in the booth, her eyes grazing his soul.

"Don't do anything stupid, Jonah," she told him, "or you'll lose her. God knows you'll pay the price if you break her heart." And with that, she looked over at Andi, stood up, and left, leaving a bewildered Jonah to ponder and think about what she said.

Meanwhile, with the Good Hair Crew

"Sorry, guys. I was just really nervous. What if he doesn't like me anymore once I tell him? I want to, but he'll think of me differently," Cyrus confided.

Buffy put a hand on his shoulder. "Cyrus. We don't think of you as any different. And you're not any different. Besides, if he does think of you differently, then he's not good enough for you, anyway. And he's gonna end up with a black eye and a bruised ego if he does." Andi nodded in agreement.

Cyrus looked at them with love in his eyes and pulled his two best friends into a tight hug. "Oh, thanks, guys. I seriously don't know what I'd do without you."

"Just another service we provide," Andi and Buffy quoted in unison. The three best friends burst into laughter.

After a few minutes passed, Buffy stood up and patted Cyrus' back. "Come on, Cool Dude. Let's go."

The Perfect Gift

"Dude," Jonah said with a sigh. "I need help."

Bowie kind of chuckled, in a confused way. "With what?" They were at Rooster Records, Bowie's guitar/music shop.

"You know I'm bad at giving people gifts," Jonah reminded him.

"You're not... that bad," Bowie tried to amend in a high-pitched voice before he was silenced by Jonah's glare. Sighing in defeat, he prompted, "Umm, your point?"

"I need help getting a gift for Andi." Jonah released another tired breath. "I've tried, but she hates everything give her." When Bowie knitted his eyebrows im doubt, Jonah elaborated, "No, seriously. I once gave her a grain of rice with her name on it. Spelled incorrectly."

Bowie grimaced. "Okay, so maybe your gift-giving skills need a little work. Even so, you should still be the one to pick out a gift you're giving to someone."

"But--I don't know what to do!" Jonah protested.

"Dude, just trust your instincts. Do what you think is really right. Maybe get her something artsy. Or--You know what? You're pretty good with the guitar. Maybe you could write her something!" Bowie grinned.

"You--you really think so?"

"Yes! You're amazing, man! I know you can do it!"

Jonah smiled. "Thanks. I'm really glad I talked to you."

"Yeah. Me too. Hey, anytime, man. Anytime."

Lost

"Ugh!" Frustrated, I bang my fists on the desk, the pencil cup I made out of yarn and popsicle sticks yesterday tipping over and spilling its contents onto the table. I lean forward and concentrate on my computer screen, willing it to show me what I want to see. "Come on, come ON! You have to be out there somewhere!" I slam the laptop shut, tears welling in my eyes. I can't look at it any longer, a reminder of what I so badly don't want to acknowledge. I put my face in my hands instead.

Hearing a light knock on the door, I turn around to see one of my best friends, Buffy Driscoll, in the doorway. Behind her stands Cyrus Goodman, my other best friend.

I slowly rise to my feet. "Guys," I start, making my way towards them. They follow suit and step my way, concern and sympathy written on their faces. "I can't--I can't find her." That's all I need tk say before they step forward and sweep me into their arms, and I sob into their shoulders.

"Buffy rubs my back comfortingly. "It'll be okay," she soothes. "We'll find her."

"Yeah! We're the Good Hair Crew. We make it happen," Cyrus confirms.

[cyrus-badman]

Okay guys, get ready cause I'm posting some old fics soon so stay tuned for that! There will be new content 😁