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#the boy from the mish
slaughter-books · 6 months
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Day 7: JOMPBPC: Non-White Author
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JOMP BPC - April 12th - This Is So Important
queer POC books by queer POC authors are so important, especially when they’re First Nations POC, and extra especially when they’re from outside the United States
The Boy From the Mish by Gary Lonesborough is a gorgeous Australian YA romance that was published in the US under the title Ready When You Are
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qbdatabase · 4 months
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The Boy from the Mish by Gary Lonesborough It's a hot summer, and life's going all right for Jackson. It's almost Christmas, school's out, and he's hanging with his mates, teasing the tourists, avoiding the racist boys. Like every year, Jackson's Aunty and annoying little cousins visit from the city - but this time a mysterious boy with a troubled past comes with them … View the full summary and rep info on wordpress!
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samireads · 2 years
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Hope you all had a happy pride month 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️
Here is everything I read in June ✌🏻
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bookswithairs · 2 years
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Review: The Boy From The Mish
Author: Gary Lonesborough
Genre: Young Adult
Rating: 5/5
Main topics:
Indigenous Australian Cuture
Sexuality
Family and Friendships
REVIEW:
The Boy From The Mish is a heart-warming and lovely novel about two Aboriginal boys dealing with discovering their sexuality, interspersed with their culture and the highs and lows of teenage life. The novel is beautifully written, with intersections of sexuality and culture being explored gracefully but messy, a realistic scenario. 
When Jackson first meets Tomas, he has no extra thought for him. If anything, he feels negatively towards him. But as they spend more time together, and share some interesting experiences, their relationships blossoms and spirals into something special and unnamed, a burning secret for the two of them. This relationship struggles through self-acceptance, cultural acceptance and the issue of family, friends and community attitudes. The development of the relationship is chaotic at times, delicate in others. These intersections of life are a too-real thing, and seeing them on the page is amazing. 
The development in the protagonist, Jackson Barley, is a relatable experience for myself, as well as many others. His confusion on his own feelings are expanded by his Aboriginal culture, living in the Mish, a place where he feels he would never be accepted. He tries to convince himself his experiences with Tomas mean nothing, but acknowledges that something is different about himself in the dark shadows of his mind. The insight into Jackson’s mind shows a nuanced and loveable character. His thoughts are complex and sometimes betraying to his real desires, showcasing the fact that even when you ignore a part of yourself, it will always be there. His various interactions with family, culture, friends and sexuality are an interesting read, as he is simply a teenager living his life. His interactions with family show a very different side to him than when he is with his friends, and that differs from when he is with Tomas or romantic interests. All in all, Jackson is an amazingly complex character, and seeing his development through the book is inspiring.
Not just Jackson is complex though. All  characters have distinct personalities. From Jackson’s Mum’s harsh-but-loving demeanour to Jarny’s humorous but hard-headed personality, all characters are given a fleshed-out self. One of my favourite side characters was little cousin Bobby, who had a big experience early on and as kids do, continued on only slightly wary. Jackson’s Mum is a great character, she is shown to be a multi-talented and lovign woman, displaying her culture proudly.  Tomas himself is a great character. The first impression given is very different to the actual boy. He has had some rough experiences, but his changes and character show that first impressions cannot be trusted.
The culture descriptions in this book are fantastic. As a non-Indigenous Australian, it was great reading about the traditional culture of this country, especially given it was written by a queer, Aboriginal author. The depictions of Aboriginal family and friend relationships is a great show of how culture can affect personal identity. Obviously the best way to learn about culture is in real life, but seeing a book explicitly about Aboriginal people and culture is a wonderful thing to see. The book also deals with racism and prejudice, displaying the rampant racism in Australian society. This cultural appreciation is very interesting to read and well woven into this novel.
In conclusion, this book is a must-read. The interspersed culture and sexuality along with the typical human experiences is a wonderful read, and the excellent writing style is a wonderful addition.  This book is a great part of Australian literature, Gary Lonesborough created a fantastic work.
Note: This book is named ‘Ready When You Are’ in certain countries.
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aroaessidhe · 2 years
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2022 reads // twitter thread
The Boy From The Mish 
 Australian YA contemporary
coming of age story about an Aboriginal boy in a rural community coming to terms with his sexuality 
summer holidays, art & comics 
deals with racism and internalised homophobia
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kinziethings · 2 years
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REVIEW: Ready When You Are by Gary Lonesborough
REVIEW: Ready When You Are by @GLonesborough || important, beautiful, perfect #youngadult #queerYA
A remarkable YA love story between two Aboriginal boys — one who doesn’t want to accept he’s gay, and the boy who comes to live in his house who makes him realize who he is. It’s a hot summer, and life’s going all right for Jackson and his family on the Mish. It’s almost Christmas, school’s out, and he’s hanging with his mates, teasing the visiting tourists, avoiding the racist boys in town. Just…
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bookshelfmonkey · 10 months
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queer books for pride month: day 19
The Boy From The Mish- Gary Lonesborough
Genre: Contemporary LGBTQ+ Rep.: Gay MC, gay LI, mlm relationship CW: homophobia, racism (inc. slurs), police brutality, alcohol, outing, drug use
Plot: It's summer, and life's alright for Jackson and his family on the Mish. It's almost Christmas, which means that school's out and he has plenty of time to hang out with his friends and have some fun— as long as they can avoid the local racists. But with Christmas comes family, and, this year, with his aunt comes a boy Jackson's age with a troubled past, who threatens to unlock a secret that Jackson thought he had hidden away for good.
Why I'd recommend this book: This book portrays the experience of being a teenager much better than many YA authors. The way in which Lonesborough blends coming of age with romance but also with identity and discrimination was amazingly done.
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slaughter-books · 1 year
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Day 20: JOMPBPC: Pastels
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derailedangel · 4 months
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sometimes i think im normal and then i remember that when my boyfriend life partner etc was looking for a new name i suggested james because of jimmy novak and he loved it obviously so now my boyfriend has jimmy novaks name
hi babe how do you feel. i named you after misha collins
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samireads · 2 years
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“I want to hold your hand and walk along the beach with you. I want to buy you presents and take you for a picnic on Valentine’s Day. I want to be your boyfriend.”
The Boy from the Mish by Gary Lonesborough
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ruvi-muffin · 1 year
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had that neurodivergent mood where i spent the past few minutes dancing to a lecture bc it was so interesting and made me so happy
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Taking notes for my wip from romances in books because I don't know how to write attraction
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fredwkong · 3 months
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Himbo Maker: Misha
Misha was an Egirl: a European Guy In Real Life. He would do his makeup, put on fake eyelashes, a wig, and a pair of pink headphones with kitty cat ears, and stream video games online. He loved to troll new viewers by spending an hour or so doing a breathy, feminine voice, and then suddenly hit them with his natural Baltic baritone. The way the chat went crazy made it worth it every time.
The whole game was helped by how petit and curvy Misha had always been. Even in his twenties, he still had a soft, almost girlish body and stood at most of other guys’ sternums. Too bad he wasn’t a trans girl, or at least a gay boy, he sometimes thought, looking at his body in the mirror. Gay guys were supposed to go for little guys who looked like him.
One evening, Misha was just starting his stream when some user started acting really weird in chat. He had a username that almost seemed familiar to Misha, but the guy he was thinking of had always been polite and given insightful comments on Misha’s gaming. This guy’s messages were full of typos, and he couldn’t seem to stop talking about his muscles.
Misha was just about to ban the guy when an alert sounded: Misha’s charming, girly laugh, which indicated a user had just donated a hefty sum. Of course, it was this annoying brodude.
“Uh,” said Misha, almost forgetting to put on his femmy voice, “He says, “Bro, this guy liek wants to chat wiht u on stream.” And there’s a link in the donation.”
Clicking the link, Misha found himself looking at a chat website he’d never seen before. “Hold on, let me share my screen,” he simpered, sharing the chat window. Somehow, his usual screen name was already in the bar. It must have populated from his stream.
Mish-kittycat: Like, heyoooo! You okay with being on stream with me? (✿◠‿◠)
Himbo_mkr: No way, bruh! I love meeting new bros. Like, hi stream!
Misha was a bit offended that this chat partner would refer to him as a “bro.” But stream chat seemed interested, so he thought it could be worth a few minutes to humour the donater. It had been a fair amount of money.
Mish-kittycat: What do you want to talk about UwU
Himbo_mkr: Bro, you know that all I ever talk about are my sick gains and going out with guys, lmao
Okay, so this was a troll. They probably wanted to get Misha banned for lewdness or something. Still, at least it was original that the troll character was a gay guy. He rolled his eyes at the stream and said, out loud in his girl voice, “Looks like someone got mad enough to pay to speak with all this.” He gestured down his slim body in tonight’s outfit, a stereotypical Japanese maid costume.
Himbo_mkr: Huhuhu, bro, you clicked on the link. Didn’t force you to do it.
Misha froze. Of course the troll was watching the stream. “Heh, I don’t let meatheaded bullies boss me around,” he chirped, trying to save face.
Himbo_mkr: You sure? You sure like it when your chat bosses you around, bro.
Now this guy was just lying. Misha scowled, even though he knew the expression would make his foundation crack unattractively. “This is a really weird way to bully someone.” He looked at the stream chat, waiting for his subscribers to back him up.
But the character of the chat seemed to have changed. No, they had always been bossy, Misha suddenly remembered. They would tell Misha how to play his games all the time while he pretended to struggle. It was a key part of the dynamic of his channel that chat bossed him around, and right now they were telling him to go back to chatting with this guy. One guy even messaged, “No more talking, kitty. You’re only allowed to write in the chat.” Misha gave the camera a plaintive look, but listened. He always listened to his chat.
Mish-kittycat: So maybe you’re right about that one thing, but coming in here being rude is totally uncool (งᓀ‸ᓂ)ง
Himbo_mkr: Bro, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I was just tryna compliment you on your sick bis, dude.
Misha cocked his head, confused. He was the opposite of buff, that was why he was so good at dressing as a girl. But as he continued to think about it, he remembered all the hours he spent working on his arms. He kept a set of weights next to his bedroom door, and he did bicep curls to failure every time he went through the doorway. Yeah, his biceps were his pride and joy, and they were usually how he showed off his manliness when he revealed his deep voice and accent.
A tip came in. “Flex for us, kitty,” commanded the text-to-speech voice. With a smirk, Misha lifted up one of his arms, feeling it stretch the sleeve of his maid costume as the veins popped. Too bad the rest of his body hadn’t followed his arms and gotten bulky.
Himbo_mkr: We’re all waiting for you to drop your lifting routine, bro! You’ve been totally blowing up.
Misha blushed at the flattery. His physique wasn’t all that impressive. Sure, now that he thought about it, he had been really hitting the weights a lot and eating right. In fact, his room seemed to be full of lifting clothes and supplements as he looked around. But that was because some of his subscribers kept telling him to get to the gym and hit his macros. It had actually been really freeing to just let people pay to tell him what to do on his fitness journey. And it was paying off! Misha definitely couldn’t pass for a girl these days, which was why the channel had changed to be more about doing stuff in-game for the highest bidders.
The maid costume barely wrapped around Misha’s broad pecs, and the garters had torn when he’d tried to pull them up his thick thighs. Sure, it had been funny when the stream started and the chat had gotten Misha to show off his shoulder raises while dressed in a little maid skirt, but the polyester was really starting to chafe on his smooth muscles. It was a relief when a tip rolled in while Misha flexed and said “Kitty, wear comfy clothes.” The chat oooohed and aaaahed as Misha shucked the maid costume, showing off his bulky chest, and pulled on his favourite comfy shirt instead. Sure, it had some tears and stuff, but as a masculine guy, Misha wasn’t worried about dressing up fancy or anything.
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The guy whose chat Misha was streaming had been quiet, so Misha hopped back over and sent another message.
Mish-kittyhunk: Thanks man! It’s all about trusting the process.
Himbo_mkr: I can tell that you trust people, bro! You’re like a puppy lmao.
Well, Misha thought, maybe he did like getting bossed around in chat, but it wasn’t like he trusted everyone blindly! Okay, well, maybe he did tend to stop to help people on the road and then lose his wallet a lot. They looked like they needed help! And maybe he did sometimes click on links that meant he needed to take his phone to the store for them to fix, but so did everyone else!
Looking at the chat, who were all laughing about Misha being a totally trusting puppy, Misha had to finally agree. That was why one of his subscribers had gotten him this headset with floppy dog ears on it, after all.
Mish-puphunk: Haha, you got me, dude! That’s why I clicked on this link, too XD
Himbo_mkr: It’s okay, bro. Lots of gay hunks are pretty dumb, it just adds to that himbo appeal.
This time this guy was definitely making stuff up. Misha was totally straight, he just didn’t do well with girls. Well, that and being a submissive hunk online mostly attracted a gay male fanbase. And, well, now that he thought about it, when was the last time Misha had really thought about a girl? Like, maybe if it was a domme? But no, even then, Misha would really prefer a guy to be involved at some point. This guy was probably right, Misha was gay.
It was super hard to think. There was a reason that Misha preferred to let chat do the thinking for him. Even before he realised how much he loved to listen when men told him what to do, Misha had never been much of a deep thinker. That was why most of the stuff in his room was gym gear, gaming stuff, or whatever his subscribers bought for him. Lately, they had been really loving when Misha wore even less clothes and showed off more of his growing body, and Misha was happy to oblige as long as they kept telling him what to do!
Mish-puphunk: Lol I guess you’re right! I just wanna give sirs what they want
Himbo_mkr: Bro, I totally get why you love pup play so much. You just love being obedient and dumb and empty lmao. You, like, pretty much live in your mask these days.
A pup mask…Misha was pretty sure one of his subscribers had sent him one of those once, but it had been really confusing to put on and he’d only worn it once. No, wait, that wasn’t right. Misha was such a ditz! He’d loved the experience of putting on the pup mask and letting himself be a dumb pup for his chat. And chat had loved sending in tips to give him commands like “sit,” “roll over,” and “stick a tail in your hole.”
It had been so popular that the subscribers had told Misha to make it a weekly thing, then a biweekly thing, and by now it had pretty much become what Misha did during his streams. While chatting with this guy had been fun, Misha really wanted to get on with the stream and mask up. He opened his mouth to tell the viewers that, but then remembered that he had been ordered not to talk. Too bad, chat would only hear his deep, resonant voice if they ordered him to bark after he put on his mask.
Mish-puphunk: Okay dude, I gotta go be a good dumb pup now.
Himbo_mkr: Got it, bruh! You got a bunch of hunky doms to please by being a good pup slut!
Chat cheered as Misha stopped streaming the chat window and winked at the camera. An especially hung dom who loved to tip had won the bid war last night to decide what Misha wore, so Misha fondled the straps of his leather harness as he got up to grab his mask. He wondered what his chat full of muscular, horny himbo doms would have him do today.
Misha slipped on the mask and let his mind go blank.
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lovebugism · 1 year
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Hi I am begging on my knees for more of your steddie x reader it’s so good I’m crying
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BIZARRE LOVE TRIANGLE | baby fever
summary: steve's got a bad case of baby fever. it's not so bad until you start getting sick with it too. eddie has to come up with a solution before all of you fall ill.
pairing: steve harrington / f!reader / eddie munson
a/n: i just realized i haven't posted anything steddie related in almost three months. i am so sorry. this is a total travesty. please enjoy this 3k blurb and find it in your heart to forgive me <3
You squint at the grocery list scribbled on a bright blue sticky note. It’s a mish-mash of all your different handwritings. Some are certainly neater than others. “This just says crabs… I think...”
“It doesn’t say crabs, you loon,” Eddie laughs from where he mans the shopping cart beside you. He’s steering the thing about as well as his van. “It says cereals.”
“No, it says a bunch of gibberish that no one can read but you,” you retort with a giggle of your own as you follow him down the breakfast aisle. “And we just need one box of cereal, alright? Singular.”
He turns to you with a cartoonish pout on his lips. “But why?”
“Because you’re like a kid, Eds. You eat the entire thing in one sitting, and then you’re absolutely haywire for the rest of the day.”
And, just like a child, the boy stands in front of the vibrantly colored boxes of cereal with a wide grin on his face.
The local grocery store was smaller compared to the others in town, but they had every brand of the breakfast food known to man, stacked in neat rows from the floor to ceiling. 
Eddie’s got a twinkle in his eye as his gaze runs over them all. And even though you think it’s all boyish and hilarious, you let him have his fun. 
He grew up unable to enjoy all the goodness of overly sweet cereal because bills and food with actual sustenance were always more important. Now, he’s got a halfway stable job with Wayne at the car shop, and he’s living at his own place with his boyfriend and girlfriend, and he can buy whatever the hell kind of cereal he wants. 
So, as far as he’s concerned, everyone who said he’d never amount to much can suck it. 
And you know you’ll let him buy the whole damn grocery store out of their cereal if that’s what he wants. It’s the least you can do for the world’s best boyfriend — a title he begrudgingly shares with Steve The Hair Harrington.
You’d give him the world if you could, but for now you’ll have to settle for a couple of boxes of Lucky Charms.
“Okay, so the OJ’s we got last time tasted like absolute shit,” Eddie mutters, mostly to himself as he crouches to peer at the lower shelves. “I saw a commercial for Waffle-O’s this morning, and they looked pretty good. But I know you like Breakfast With Barbie and Steve ate a bowl of C3PO’s every day for, like, two weeks, so…”
You stand by the cart and laugh at his rambling. You turn to look behind you with a lighthearted joke sitting on the edge of your tongue. It dissipates when you realize Steve isn’t next to you. 
Instead, he’s still standing at the end of the aisle with his back to you and Eddie — like his feet forgot how to work when he caught sight of the family across the store. It’s a mother and a father, dressed in their mid-weekday finest, with a baby swaddled at their chest and a toddler bouncing in the seat of the shopping cart. 
And you know it’s got the boy totally lost in his own head. You know he's picturing you and him and Eddie as that happy family — the one fills every store you walk into with baby babbles and bubbly laughter. 
Steve told you his senior year of high school he wanted a baby, that he wanted six of them, and that he wanted them all with you. And you were just a stupid seventeen-year-old girl who would’ve done anything he asked you to, though you definitely drew the line at babies. 
But you’re older now, and far more settled than you had been all that time ago. Steve’s ready for a family, but you don’t think you’re anywhere close.
“How about we just compromise and get all three?” Eddie finally concludes with the boxes already in his arms. He dumps them into the cart and notices that your attention is elsewhere. He realizes then that Steve’s gone too because his attention is stuck on a nice family minding their own business. 
“Not again…” he murmurs to himself while you go rescue the boy.
“I’ve never seen someone so sick with baby fever in my life,” you laugh as you drag Steve back to the cart by his wrist.
“I can’t help it!” he defends weakly. “They were so cute! They were all matching and I couldn’t stop thinking about how I can’t wait to coordinate outfits with our baby. Doesn’t that sound like the cutest fucking thing ever?”
“It sounds very adorable, Stevie,” you nod understandingly and try to ignore the way your stomach twists at the thought of him and his baby girl wearing matching pastels every time they step out of the house. “And we can be just like them in five years—”
“Five years?” he gapes.
“Maybe even ten,” Eddie shrugs and nonchalantly tosses a box of Count Chocula into the cart.
“Ten years— You guys are insane if you think I’m waiting ten years to have a kid!” Steve protests with a pair of buff arms crossed boyishly over his chest. “I’m not getting any younger over here, you know that, right?”
“You’re twenty-five, Steve, stop being so dramatic. We’re just now trying to get settled. I’m still in school, you’re still working at Family Video, Eddie’s still… Eddie. Don’t you think we should have actual careers before we have a kid?”
Steve huffs and rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance even though he knows you’re right.
It’s not like he wants to keep working at the stupid store on Main Street. He keeps putting off the conversation with his dad about another job, because he puts off every conversation with his dad. He’s scared of what asking for a position at his firm will do to his pride.
“She’s right, and you know it, Steven,” Eddie tells him, then scoffs. “I mean, can you really imagine me with a baby strapped to my chest on tour?”
You and Steve both pause and tilt your heads to the side as you picture the sight, terribly in sync as always. You can imagine it, quite perfectly actually, tangible enough to touch.
“Well—”
“That’s the cutest thing I think I’ve ever heard,” Steve finishes your thought for you.
Eddie cowers at the sudden attention. “Okay, stop looking at me like I’m a piece of meat, alright? We are not having a kid right now. There’s no fucking way.”
Steve all but deflates at the rejection as Eddie pushes the cart down the aisle, desperate to escape the bubble of tension the conversation had created in the cereal section.
You smile sheepishly over at Steve and wrap your arms through the crook of his elbow, standing on the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “He’s being grumpy about it, but he’s right… It’s just not a good idea right now— but it will be, okay? One day. Just not… to-day.”
The day, for you, comes exactly seven of them later. 
You accompany Steve on his morning run and his routine stop for coffee. You’re not quite sure how he’s still mobile because your muscles are screaming, even after the warm shower you took to soothe them.
You left him alone for all of half a second to use the bathroom while he ordered drinks for him and you, and something extra for Eddie for when the boy decides to roll out of bed.
When you return, you find him bouncing a baby on his hip — a young thing, maybe three if you had to guess, with two buns in her hair like bunny ears and a sparkly pink dress to match the bows she wears in them.
Steve smiles down at her, talking to her in a baby voice and saying something you can’t hear because you’re frozen in place. You resemble him at the grocery store a week ago, when he was thrown into a daydream so suddenly that his body all but shut down. 
You look at him now, tickling the baby’s sides just to hear her giggle, and you see him with your firstborn — sleep deprived, covered in spit-up, and still the most beautiful human you’d ever seen.
You have to shake your head to remove the thought before it ruins you entirely. 
Freshly jostled from your stupor, you walk over to him. “Steve… Please tell me you didn’t steal someone’s baby.”
He laughs. “What? No! She was just a little fussy, and I offered to take her while her mom looked for something,” the boy explains. You look just behind him to see the woman bent over at one of the smaller tables, sifting vigorously through a large baby bag.
“She doesn’t seem very fussy now,” you observe, eyes flitting between his and the child's and noticing they’ve both got matching grins.
“She doesn’t, does she?” he smiles, softly scratching at her sides again to make her laugh. And she does, most enthusiastically so, tilting her head back and letting the giggles spill from an open mouth.
He turns back to you, with wide eyes and raised brows and a bemused grin. “I like she likes me.”
“Of course, she does,” you scoff. “Babies always like you.”
The mom returns with a snack in hand and a relieved smile. Steve passes the baby back to her with little effort. She whines at the loss of him, though the brightly packaged treat is quick to quell her sorrow. 
“Thanks for taking her,” the mother's grateful smile falters with exhaustion. “If I don’t give her the same snack at exactly the same time every day, she tends to go a little nuts.” 
Steve tells her that it’s no problem, that he was a part-time babysitter at one point in his life, and that her kid was better than those little shits combined. He censors himself before the swear slips out, though.
You go your separate ways when the barista calls out your drink orders and walk hand in hand back to your place.
“Did you get their names?” you ask him before taking a sip of your latte.
“The mom’s name was Maeve and the kid’s name was Harper—”
“Holy shit,” you mutter.
Steve snaps his head over to you because he thinks you’ve burnt your mouth. Instead, he finds you with a distant smile on your face.
“Those are the cutest names I’ve ever heard. It sounds like something out of a fucking cartoon or something.”
“Yeah…” is all he can say because his mind is preoccupied with a million other thoughts. He doesn’t tell you them, obviously, but you know they’re there. The sly smile pulling at his lips makes it obvious.
“…Why are you looking at me like that.”
“Because I’m totally gonna wear you down,” he grins and brings his coffee to his mouth, sipping through his smirk.
You only scoff in response. “Never.”
It doesn’t take you very long to realize that Steve was right.
You spend the rest of the day thinking about it — about him with a baby and how perfect he'd be as a dad. The thoughts plague you far more than they usually do. They take up the entire frontal cortex of your brain and make it nearly impossible to think about anything else.
You’re self-aware enough to beat yourself up about it. 
You were just telling him that it wasn’t time yet, and you knew you were right. As far as you’re concerned, you still have another few good years before you’re ready to even start seriously considering it. 
But here you are, having to calm yourself down every time the thought of Steve Harrington with a baby, your baby, crosses your mind.
You wait until the boy heads to bed to talk to Eddie about it. You find him in the kitchen, eating handfuls of Breakfast with Barbie like a maniac. You’re too preoccupied to make a snarky comment about it.
“Steve wasn’t lying,” you warn him.
“..About what?” he wonders through the mouthful.
“About him not waiting ten years to have a baby! He wants one now!” you explain through a yell-whisper hybrid. “And he told me he was going to wear me down, and he was right.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide too, like he’s just learned you caught some sort of plague. You have. It’s called baby fever, and it’s only a matter of time before the entire house is afflicted. “Shit…”
“So you have to be the strong one, Eddie.”
“Oh, god,” he whines with pinched brows. “Why does it have to be me?”
“Because I saw him hold a baby today.”
“…And this is a bad thing?”
“Of course, it’s a bad thing! My hormones went crazy, okay? It’s like my brain stopped functioning, and I started thinking with my ovaries or something! All human instinct told me to lay down and procreate the second we got home!”
Eddie laughs to himself. “Are you sure it was human instinct, or was it just you on a normal Wednesday?”
“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you tell him, a sudden solemnity to your features. “You have to put your foot down whenever Steve talks about it because I will cave.”
“Alright, alright, have some Barbie cereal and settle down,” he tells you with a playful grin.
He offers you the box and you pout for a moment before sticking your hand into it and pulling out several red and purple butterfly pieces.
The boy wraps an arm around you with his free hand. He pulls you closer and noses at the crown of your head. You sigh as you relax into him. 
“I’ll take care of it, okay? I actually have the perfect idea.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” you waver through a mouthful of cereal.
“Don’t worry about it,” he lilts with a grin, smacking a kiss to your forehead. “Let me take care of it.”
You and Steve are tangled in bedsheets, both slowly rousing but trying desperately to go back to sleep. 
You’re laying on your stomach, face smushed into the pillow you clutch to your head. Steve lays halfway on top of you — his legs knotted with yours, arm splayed over your back, and softly snoring in your ear. 
Both of you noticed the lack of Eddie’s presence, but chose not to linger on it too much, figuring he must’ve gone for a breakfast run. 
He returns hardly a moment after the thought of him crosses your mind. You hear the door open and shut again, then the shouts of your names entwined with a muffled barking.
You groan at the intrusion on your sleep.
Steve huffs and shifts against you, voice gruff with fatigue as he wonders: “Why do I hear a dog?”
The mixture of confusion and subtle knowing has you both shuffling out of the bedroom and trudging into the living room.
You round the corner and find Eddie standing by the door with a rowdy goldendoodle bouncing at his feet. He’s trying hopelessly to undo its leash when the thing starts to squirm at the sight of you and Steve.
Eddie’s eyes flit to the both of you when he notices you standing across the room. A smile bursts like early morning sunshine on his face. “Surprise!” he beams.
The metal of the leash clicks when he finally gets it unbuckled. The dog dashes your way, all but jumping into Steve and then spinning in circles with excitement as it tries to figure out who to accept attention from. 
“You got us a dog?” the boy wonders, head cocked back to dodge the thing as it licks at his chin.
“You said you wanted a baby,” Eddie shrugs. “So, I got you a baby.”
“This is so not what a meant,” the boy grouses in response, though he’s got his arms wrapped around the dog like he’s hugging it. “I mean, it’s not even a baby— it’s huge.”
“The woman at the shelter said he was eight months old. And he is a he, so stop calling him it.”
You crouch beside Steve, scratching the dog behind his ear. He pants with his tongue sticking out, almost looking like he’s smiling. It makes you smile too. 
“We don’t even have dog food. Or toys. Or a bed,” you stress. “What are we even gonna name it?”
“Well, I took care of exactly one of those things,” Eddie lilts with a grin. “They only had that gross artificial shit at the grocery store, but they did have some badass collars and an engraving machine, so…”
You and Steve peek through the dog’s golden curls and find a black band with silver spikes dotted around the neck. “Super metal, huh?” you hear himEdiejoke as you reach for the dangled heart pendant handing around the collar.
“…Ozzy?” you recite.
“See what I mean?” he beams. “Metal.”
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