abibliophobiaa

[abibliophobiaa]

[abibliophobiaa]

Luna! I was literally talking about you 2 weeks ago! I hope you are well my darling! ❤️

Ahhhh!! Really?!

I’m doing AMAZING. How are you?! ❤️

[abibliophobiaa]

Absconding (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: Everyone's running away from something.

Pairings/Relationships: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Meet Cute/Meet Stupid, Literal Escapism, melancholy vibes, Fluff, Humor, Angst, Hurt/Comfort(?), open ended, idk I'm just tagging things before writing this.

Note: Happy Birthday to my wonderful friend, secret alternate identity from another universe that somehow got dumped in the same world together, @deathbecomesthem. Love you so much Than. Wish that this could be something more well thought out than it is.

Thanks to everyone also who've sent me asks for WIP weekend so I could finish this and other works. <3

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

You’d been saying that you were gonna do something like this for years.

Get in your car and just drive.

No plans. No rhyme or reason. No direction. You would just take some cash and go.

Unfortunately, for all of those same years, you’d also been a bit of a chicken. Tied down and held back by obligations. Work, family, friends. What are you gonna do on a Friday night? I dunno, let’s get dinner. Ok, see you at the Chilis off Randolph at 8pm for a corporately sanitized appetizer and margarita. Great, see you then.

Until you couldn’t handle it anymore and you let everyone know that you’d be out of town for a few days. Don’t call, don’t come looking. You'd be back for work next Monday.

And you drove.

You slept in your car at a truck stop that first night. You were too numb to worry about anything happening to you. By night two you actually managed to give a shit and you stopped at a Comfort Inn in a small lakeside town off the highway that was probably known as some great local summer destination. But it wasn’t summer yet so it was a little desolate and a little sad.

Still it was nice enough and the old woman at the check in desk told you about some local year-round sights to see and you actually considered seeing them.

The only difficulty you’d faced was the indecision. Or rather, the need to decide. The imperative. Usually you were the Decider. When all of those around you couldn’t commit, you were the one to be the voice of reason. Now you had the luxury to dilly dally and you resented still having to be the one to make the decision.

“That’s what you get when you go off the deep end and run away though,” you told yourself.

But it was not just running away. It was going off in search of something. What that something was, you couldn’t be certain. But it would come to you, just like the many epiphanies you had in gas stations or airport terminals or other liminal spaces in all the flavors they came in over the years.

You were hoping that you’d get hit by something on this trip.

Unfortunately for you, the only thing you got hit by…was a car.

Ok, that’s a little dramatic.

You had pulled into the tiny parking lot of a house-turned-pub in the middle-of-nowhere town off the highway for lunch. Check-in lady’s recommendation. And a shitty, junker van hit you as it was backing into the space beside yours. A little fender bender. Truly no big deal.

You’d been at your wits end for weeks, though. Months maybe. So the demon that had been festering inside of you finally saw the opportunity to go free.

"Are you kidding me, fucker?" The words flew from your lips and out of your cracked window as soon as the thump and crunch of metal on metal registered in your mind. Let alone the gentle rock of your car, although to you it might as well have been a head-on collision because it had caught you so off-guard. Your driver's side door was open and you were out of the car, keys still in the ignition. "What the fuck?"

"Shit, shit, fuck," came a muffled voice from inside the van before it shifted gears and pulled forward. The van's bumper pried away from yours and you watched, dumbfounded, as the asshole attempted--successfully this time--to back into the parking space beside yours again before killing the engine and hopping out.

He was a gangly thing. All arms and legs and neck and fingers as he rounded the front of his vehicle. Even his long hair pulled back with a rubber band was long and wiry, adding to the athropomorphic-Gumby-ness he had about him. You would've considered him handsome and his overall floppiness endearing if you weren't fuming. If your blood pressure hadn't caused your ears to ring, preventing any of the words coming from his mouth to actually reach your brain as he rambled on, talking with his hands.

"How many years have I been driving this damn thing, I still can't back up to save my life?" he chuckled sweetly and rubbed a hand against the back of his neck.

"Maybe you need to brush up on your driving lessons buddy," you scoffed. "Or choose one of the other spots in the lot next time." You gestured to the handful of other empty spots, then grumbled under your breath about the shiftiness of parking next to someone in a half empty lot.

Before you could stop him, Stretch Armstrong laughed and crouched by your fender. He ran one hand over his stubbled jaw as he inspected the damage. You crossed your arms over your chest and took a few steps so you could do the same, and truthfully it doesn’t look too bad. A dent that can be worked out with a rubber mallet—something you’ve done yourself more than once—and some scuffs of paint that flaked off on impact. You’re sure his tank of a vehicle sports the same injuries.

“I’m an expert mechanic,” the guy explained suddenly.

“Seriously?” You scoffed.

“Been fixing clunkers in my front yard for as long as I could drive.”

“Ah,” you snorted. “So the real expert. Not the kind that gets paid.” You do an internal double take as soon as the words leave your mouth because did he just call your car—your baby—a clunker?

“Were you going in to get some lunch?" You're pulled from your thoughts again by his jovial voice and a smile that crinkled his eyes in a hatefully attractive way. "How's about, I get the dent out, and get you a sandwich, and we call it even? There's a pretty decent reuben on the menu."

You took a second to look at him, then turned your attention to the bar, and then back at him.

"Throw in a beer for good measure," you held out your hand to shake, "And I won't call the cops."

"I can do a beer," he nodded and slapped his hand into yours. "Maybe even two."

---

Turned out that his name was Eddie--of course it was, he looked like an Eddie--and that he wasn't just stopping at The Hideout for lunch. He actually worked there.

The unassuming facade outside gave way to some kind of identity crisis on the inside. There was definitely a dive quality about it, but not in a way that you should be worried about tetanus. But it also had a touch of classic american with a neon jukebox in the corner. And little vagaries of a tiki bar if you looked hard enough.

"It used to be The Hideaway," he explained as you eyeballed a load-bearing pole made to look like it was bamboo. "But when I took over as the manager, I suggested a little redecorating and to rename it The Hideout. A little selfish of me, actually, because the bar my band used to play at when we were dumb kids was called the Hideout too.”

And yeah, of course he had a band, he looked like the kind of guy who was in a band.

Eddie kept yammering. Man, he was chatty.

“Still trying to land on an aesthetic, as all the newspaper reviews say. If I can convince old Tim to sell it to me one day, I'll give it a full makeover. If I can pinch my pennies enough, that is."

"If you don't keep backing your van into patrons' cars, you mean," you corrected him.

"How many times do I have to say sorry?" He scoffed teasingly, but made a pointed effort to reach across the bar for your empty glass and pour you a second beer as he promised.

The two of you talked as you ate--he was right, the Reuben was pretty good--and he tasked and helped other patrons as they filtered in. Mainly, his attention was on you though. And as much as you thought you would hate it, you didn't.

You chalked it up to either the need for interaction again, after you'd pretty much gone AWOL from human contact, or that he just had one of those faces that made someone want to spill their entire life story to.

From music, to tv, to travel, the topic of conversation stayed relatively tame. Until...

"Have you ever just...hated your life?" you asked rather unexpectedly as he dried glasses.

At first all you got in response was a snort.

Eventually, he answered.

"I wanted to be a rockstar when I was 20," he began. "And now I'm nearing 40 and I still drive the same car, play gigs during the summer, and am the manager of the local watering hole. Hating my life hit me hard about 10 years ago...and now I have annoying bouts of it like seasonal allergies. Usually around my birthday."

You couldn't help the self-deprecating smile that appeared on your face. You tried to hide it with a bite of your sandwich but Eddie was a little too perceptive for his own good.

"Oh shit." He threw the bar towel over his shoulder. "It's your birthday?"

"Birthday week," you answered with your mouth full.

"Well, what the hell are you doing out in the middle of nowhere I call home?" he asked. And there was a moment, you could tell, where he regretted it. Where he put two and two together. It's a mis-step, it's a faux pas. But you'd already been in the process of spilling your guts so you stopped him as he started rambling. "Sorry, shit. I'm sorry. You wouldn't have been out here if--"

"Don't worry," you held up a hand to shut him up, "I've just been meaning to do this for a while. My birthday had started to become a day for everyone else instead of for me. On top of...quite literally everything else in the world resting on my shoulders. I figured I'd get away from it all for a little bit. Cease to exist for a while, see how it feels."

Eddie nodded slowly, and then leaned forward to rest his arms on the edge of the bar.

"Ceasing to exist is how I ended up in this town too," he said softly. "Walked on the beach with no shoes, drank shitty beer in the local dive bar." He gestured around the room. "And then decided to stay when all was said and done. It's a good place to be nobody."

"Yeah," you agreed. "I'm finding that out for myself. I've only been here for 48 hours and I'm dreading that eventual drive home."

"Then don't go. I didn't."

"Unfortunately, I can't." You sighed. "It's like the Hobbit. But if Gandalf told Bilbo the opposite of what he did. The world is ahead...but home is waiting behind...you’ve gotta go back."

He closed his eyes and clutched his hands over his heart in an exaggerated fashion. "Say it ain't so, only nerds reference Tolkien."

You cursed your heart for skipping its own beat, as you fought the urge to mimic his actions. That seemed like he was flirting; was he flirting? Or just being nice? Either way, it was hard to imagine this was the same guy that you wanted to strangle two hours ago.

After your laughter subsided, he continued.

"So why is home waiting, then?" Eddie gave a shrug. "Or is it just your inner-hobbit telling you that it is?"

You hid in your beer glass to avoid having to answer. But of course it was your luck that he was the kind of guy who couldn't take a hint.

"Listen, if you're not the one choosing to turn your life upside down, life itself is just waiting to turn upside down for you. And when you're not the one in charge, it's a lot harder to make it work in your favor. Believe me. I've been in both situations."

"So what am I gonna do, huh?" You laughed and set your glass down. "Find a job here, call back home for my things?"

"I think there is a little bnb closer to the beach looking for an innkeeper," he said matter-of-factly. "And all of the vacation rentals have deals on the off season so I'm sure you could hunker down for cheap before finding something long-term."

"And what about my family? Can I really leave them?"

"You married? Have kids?"

"No, but..."

"Then they'll have a nice time coming to visit in the summer." Eddie grinned like the cat that ate the canary. "You can tell them all about your friend Eddie and his great bar and the amazing food and drinks he serves."

"And his horrific taste in decor," you said blithely.

"Hey!" He pointed a teasing finger at you. "I said I was working on it."

The two of you laughed for a second. Actually, you felt...giddy. You'd been gone for a few days and here was a stranger, urging you to get away from all the obligations that waited for you back home as though it was the easiest thing in the world.

"You really have the answers to everything, don't you?" you asked.

He didn't miss a beat when he answered, "obviously, duh. Except for tomorrow's lottery numbers. So don't ask."

He winked at you, and you felt your cheeks burn.

And he was good looking...and flirting...

"I can't believe I'm actually considering running away for good," you muttered, to try and avoid the fluttering feeling he'd caused. Hell, he had really caused all of it. "Escaping."

"I think the term you're looking for," Eddie said as he slid another beer in front of you, "is absconding."

[abibliophobiaa]

Yessss 👏🏻

I LIKE TO THINK OF YOU AS MINE: COMING SOON

a steve harrington fic where you get to choose the outcome each week. were you here for bad for business? this is her sister.

But you and Steve? A couple? No.

Roommates, yes. Best friends? Yes. Drinking buddies? Absolutely. Platonic movie night partner? Of course.

And have you kissed him before? Sure, maybe, like… five years ago. But you were both drunk and someone dared you - Robin, no, Jonathan? It didn’t matter. You did it and Steve kissed you back and he tasted like lemonade and cheap beer and a little like the weed your landlord had given you and it was only for a second, really.

Definitely less than a minute. No more than three.

And then you never spoke about it again. Ever. And that was fine.

It was really, really fine.

You had more parties, threw more ragers. Collected more Polaroids and Steve lost more sunglasses and you found them again for him weeks later. You both tried to keep the plants that your mom gifted you alive and it was a good week if there was more than a carton of milk in the fridge.

It was an even better week if you made it through without thinking about the time you kissed your best friend over four years ago.

Especially since your boyfriend really didn’t like him.

That wasn’t ideal.

And honestly, you weren’t really sure you liked your boyfriend all that much anymore.

That wasn’t all that ideal either.

[abibliophobiaa]

the question of the day is: can luna still put words together and write? we will see.

‘back to friends’ by sombr as insp, with a sprinkle of steve, anyone?

[abibliophobiaa]

Ooooh dreamy new theme I love!

today is the first summer-like day where i live and i am LIVINGGG for it

[abibliophobiaa]

new theme. new idea. who am i?

[abibliophobiaa]

HELLO?!

Enjoy a little taste of Party 4 U under the cut ✨

With only a few more weeks of summer left. Everyone in Hawkins was chasing the last bit of those 9 pm sunsets and the freedom they bring only three months out of the year, which made convincing your two roommates to throw a last minute party easy. In fact you were so casual with it, they didn’t even notice the way your canines dug themselves into the skin around your nail bed the moment they both squealed ‘yes!’ in the kind of excitement that would usually be contagious, because who doesn’t love a house party?

Steve Harrington lives for a good house party.

The boy they had warned you about four years ago when you first moved to Indiana, the former king of Hawkins high, and now the current king of Hawkins Community College. A crown that he wears begrudgingly, but a crown with privilege nonetheless.

In fact the warning was so intense, you heeded it like your life depended on it, even when all the stories seemed far from the goofy guy you’d pass in the hallway or see laying out in the courtyard with his fast talking, daily nail color changing best friend, Robin. You stayed strong when he started saying “hi” on your daily passes to class flashing you his perfect pearly whites in jeans that fit him a little too tight. You even held it together when his big hand would spread out in a wave across the lawn in an effort to catch your gaze. His mossy green eyes lingering just a little longer on your thighs whenever it was warm enough to wear shorts no matter what animated thing his best friend was saying.

But at the beginning of May when you stumbled into your house at the crack of dawn after an end of year party with tequila fresh on your breath and his teeth marks decorating your neck, they had to warn you again.

’Everyone who grew up here knows he’s always going to be in love with Nancy Wheeler.’

’He’s never going to leave Hawkins, and you’re moving after college.’

’I think he’s probably dated or asked out every girl in this town at this point. Do you really want to be added to that list?’

Two weeks ago, you couldn’t wait to tell them how wrong they were. That you weren’t the fool they warned you’d become. Not when you’re falling asleep under the stars with him, a blanket that had been shoved in his trunk laid out while your heavy lids win under fingertips that trace the warmed soft skin of your face from a day out in the sun on the lake. You couldn’t be, not when you woke up to sleepy hazel eyes at the crack of dawn and that messy mane of hair at the top of his head somehow even more chaotic than before with a slow lazy smile pulling up at pink lips that constantly beg to be kissed.

There was no way something that feels like this would just go away with a couple hundred miles in between it when the time had to come.

But, that was two weeks ago, and multiple unanswered calls later.

You can start to hear the bells on your jester’s hat beginning to jingle in the distance. Taunting you, just like the sound of his voice mail but you don’t dare to tell them.

[abibliophobiaa]

Luna my light my love !! I've missed you so much

Hiiii!!

I missed you too!!

I know it’s the standard answer, but I’ve truly just been busy. Busy with the boyfriend, the family, and some health issues I was working through.

BUT I want to come back in some capacity. Not sure what yet. 👀

[abibliophobiaa]

Thinking about this 😭 scrolling through my blog is frightening

So many unfinished fics

talking in your sleep

- eddie munson x afab!reader; 80s summer camp slasher au.

There are rumors that Hawkins is cursed. That there’s a gateway to hell in the town’s epicenter—paved by the blood of innocents. That there’s a whole world roaming beneath, teeming with monsters who have gaping maws full of endless rows of teeth that walk on twos and fours, screeching bats, and swirling shadow beasts.

But they’re rumors all the same. Hushes in hallways, within the four walls of homes, by conspiracy theorists trying to strike up their next controversial story. Stories told around campfires to wide eyed children, fear struck grave and true behind their gazes, or by those wishing to warn others to stay away, to reconsider coming—to turn back while they still have time.

Those same rumors fueled by the terrible murder of the Creel family, a haunting story of a girl who disappeared and was never found again, the impossibility of the zombie boy who was gone from this world one day and alive the next, the devastating fire that burned down the Starcourt Mall and took the lives of many.

Tragedies. All of them. Twisted to fit a narrative. Because Hawkins is safe. Inconspicuous. Boring. Nothing strange happens there.

Nothing, that is, until the summer of 1986.

…Welcome to Camp Firefly.

🏕️🛶

warnings: obviously dark in tone, so please understand that before entering (although chapter one is light and fluffy); thriller vibes; character death; violence; gore; blood; depictions of murder, though limited in description — i would say on par with what we see in the actual show; possession; alcohol and recreational marijuana use; horror tropes galore; pov changes; smut; additional tags to be added; 18+ minors dni.

additionally—while this is technically an au, the upside down does exist here. the original core st gang has experienced the events of season 1-3, but in a different capacity that will become clear through the narrative. also a loose loose loose adaptation of s4 with this slasher flair.

🏕️🛶

playlist || ao3 || a sketch by my dear friend

🏕️🛶

Chapter List:

one: burnin’ for you

two: obsession (tba)

three: running up that hill (tba)

[abibliophobiaa]

sees .5 seconds of steve and suddenly misses him 🤣

i could write or something. i suddenly feel the itch.

but what…

[abibliophobiaa]

i could write or something. i suddenly feel the itch.

but what…

[abibliophobiaa]

STRANGER THINGS 5 Volume 1 | Nov. 26th Volume 2 | Dec. 25th The Finale | Dec. 31st

[abibliophobiaa]

Was rereading this this morning, and you know what? I still love it. 🥰 Haha my little medieval au.

ANOTHER LOVE MASTER LIST; COMPLETED

You were arranged to be married to King Peter of Ayelandia. This was not a love match, however, as Peter had love and lost it.

A tale of lost love. Of healing. And learning to love again.

(king!peter x queen!f!reader) ao3 link

*

part of an April Au event @spidervee has been hosting over on her page. linked here, where you can find all of the other amazing works written for it. seriously, go check them all out. 🤍

CHAPTERS:

all my tears have been used up

overcome in this war of hearts

kingdoms burn

[abibliophobiaa]

Grinch Eddie 😭 Santa Eddie 😭 All I Want for Christmas is You Eddie 😭

I'm just happy you're here 💖

Hehe gonna be writing over the next few weeks to get it done in time.

But I will say one of your guesses is correct. 👀🥰

[abibliophobiaa]

my theme is updated.

any idea what luna is writing? 🤣

me when i have an idea i want to write. 👀

[abibliophobiaa]

may have to update my theme later.

hint: it’ll have to do with the eddie story i’m writing. 👀

me when i have an idea i want to write. 👀