#astrobi

[wiseheartheroes]

Just thought of Mike, watching Hercules with the party, sharing a beanbag with Will, who's fast asleep, and listening to 'I wont say (I'm in love)' with a small smile on his face bcs he relates to it

Fic is: A cruel summer with you by andiwriteordie, astrobi and wiseatom on AO3 btw!!

[bycharlie]

Anybody else waiting for "a cruel summer with you"s next chapter on ao3....I CANT WAIT ANY LONGER I LUV IT SM😭😭😭

[cowboylikewren]

my reaction to That Scene in chapter 4 of acswy by @campbyler

THEA @wiseatom THE WRITER YOU ARE ‼️‼️

i’ve been screaming crying throwing up about this all day.

[ari-of-mantua]

which one of you dumbasses (affectionate) wrote that byler fanfiction where Mike was singing Boyfriend by Big Time Rush? cause (1) I wanna find the fic again and I can't ;-; (2) congratulations. you have unlocked a new song for me to have 2AM mental breakdowns to on loop.

[dictacontrion]

Potter laughed, suddenly and unexpectedly, the sound echoing through the stone corridor, and Draco was taken aback by how much he liked the sound; he rather expected Potter to sound like a toad when he laughed, yes, a toad, to match his ugly toad-y eyes and his horribly messy hair and his gross, clammy complexion and his disgustingly green eyes - eyes that were, contrary to what everyone else seemed to think, not gorgeously bottle-green, but the kind of green one would expect algae to be, or the ooze covering the toilets in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom - yes, Harry Potter did not have any business in having a laugh that nice. Something warm and fuzzy bubbled up in Draco’s stomach and he frowned, willing it to go away, because he and Potter were nice enough to each other, but he had absolutely no need for warm and fuzzy bubbles. None. Potter stopped laughing but his eyes were still wide with something bright and happy. Gross, Draco thought, and he immediately tries to come up with something to make that look go away. He could insult Potter’s hair, perhaps, but it looked pretty much the same as it always did (horridly messy, and he did not want to touch it at all), and he wasn’t wearing anything other than a pair of black pajama pants and a sweater. “Malfoy?” asked Potter, frowning and waving a hand in front of his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Draco realized that his face had been pulled into a sort of grimace, and he straightened up, shrugging. “Just mad that I have to go find a new spot to be alone in,” he said, extra emphasis on the word alone. Potter stared at him for a moment, and then leaned down to grab his bag. “It’s okay,” he said, “really. I was just about to leave.” He hoisted the bag over one shoulder and made to walk towards the stairs. “Wait,” Draco blurted. He hesitated. Potter waited. “You don’t have to. Really, you were here first.” Potter smiled, and bugger, there were the warm and fuzzy bubbles again.

read our lips, you’re in love by astrobi

[dictacontrion]

“Do you feel anything?” Does he feel anything? He feels the soft brush of Harry’s fingertips over his palm, his steady gaze on Draco’s face, a shiver running through him that has nothing to do with the cup. “No,” he lies. He’s a liar, he’s a coward. He’s always been these things and he always will be. Harry keeps his gaze locked on him. “Nothing?” he asks, taking a step closer. Draco’s heart pounds just a little faster, skipping a beat, like it’s stuttering over its own words. “No,” he says again, unable to draw his eyes away from the curve of Harry’s cupid’s bow, the shadow of stubble under his jaw. We’re not kids anymore, he thinks, with a sudden pang of homesickness for a home he’s never had. “I don’t.” “Liar,” Harry whispers, mouth hardly a few inches away from his own. He presses his hand over Draco’s, pushing the cup to the floor, where it hits the ground with a muffled clang and rolls away, under the bed, ignored. “You can’t lie to me Draco. I can read you like a book.” “Is that so,” Draco whispers back, and then they’re kissing, Harry’s hand coming up against his jaw and his throat, the other in his hair, the rim of his glasses getting pushed up uncomfortably against Draco’s cheek, but he couldn’t care less. The heady rush of it is a relief, his heart slowing and speeding up on the offbeat like it’s saying finally, his head dizzy but not from the pain, not from the dreams, not from the memories, just full of Harry. He’s so relieved he wants to laugh, his knees are halfway to giving out from a kiss that’s lasted all of five seconds long. “No doubt about it,” Harry murmurs against his lips, before pulling him back again.

there goes the downpour by astrobi