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punk-in-docs · 2 years

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Can you give us some quick headcanons about Halloween with Eddie?

🍂 Eddie Munson Halloween Headcanons 🍂

“So as it turns out I don’t know what the word ‘quick’ actually means. I’m sorry. No further questions your honour.” punk-in-docs, 2022 @asnackdriver

Halloween with Eddie Munson; dear god you’d think it was Christmas and his Birthday all rolled into one. He gets so whirly and excited about it.

Scary movies. Crunchy brown leaves underfoot. Rubber masks. Candy corn. Halloween costumes. Pumpkins. Cocoa with some whiskey sneaked in it.

Explains in lengthy detail just why it’s his favourite time of year: summer in Hawkins is too fucking hot. Too sweaty. Everywhere is stifling and busy, it’s just no fun to be stuck in that soupy humidity. Weedy old fan not enough to keep him sweating his balls off in his sauna of a bedroom.

He basically whines and suffers through summer. Autumn is his time;

“Pumpkin spice baby, fuckin’ pumpkin spice!” He yelps, as he jiggled up and down like a puppy.

“You’re insane Munson.”

“I’m not insane. I’ve got the psychiatric reports to prove it. A slender majority of the panel decided in my favour.” Then comes that maniacal grin.

“I just love fall. Kay? Almost as much as I love you.” He explains.

He loves loves loves the cold. Mega love. Likes jumpers and layers, and endless blankets piled on his bed. Like a baby bird wedged safely in a nest. Warm cosy things to wrap himself up in. The cool evenings where he can truly feel the burn of a cigarette sparking warmth, and nicotine swirling through his lungs.

He wears fingerless black wool gloves in the cold (you can’t convince me otherwise on that one, nope, sorry)

Even though he wears gloves, he still comes in from the autumn chill outside, rubbing his palms together, and is immediately shoving chilled fingertips around your neck to make you squawk. Feel them sweetcheeks. Freezin’ my ass off out there-

Then he dives in to rub his cold red nose all over your neck. Boys a fuckin’ menace.

There’s something cozy about the trailer when it’s all wrapped up warm and bitter cold is pressing in from outside. Sure it’s not fancy but it’s a home. With a capital H.

It’s not stuffy or elegant. It’s welcoming. Even with its squashy matted carpets pocked with coffee stains, it’s scratchy curtains and it’s lumpy unappealing couch. It smells like detergent and cigarettes.

It’s the best place on earth to be when you’ve got your favourite crazy metalhead wrapped around you. Arms around you. Lips in your neck. He’s like a sunshiney heat lamp that never shuts up. You love it.

You bake cookies, Eddie is a terrible kitchen assistant. He gabbles too much. Can’t keep still. He gets in the way - nicely - he faffs with the radio and turns the oven up way too hot. Thankfully you’re there to salvage it.

Icing cookies. Shaking orange and black sprinkles into the dough. Stamping them into the shape of pumpkins and ghosts. Vanilla and sugar studded kisses whilst you wait for them to rise in the tiny oven. Drizzling icing on when they’re cool. Eddie smothers your cheek in sticky sugar kisses.

Going to the movies near Halloween is almost a pilgrimage for Eddie. He sneaks a glance at Wayne’s paper to see what’s playing, and scoops you up every Friday night to take you along. No arguments.

He buys you butter popcorn and a humongous cherry coke. You buy him gummy bears, red vines, and milk duds. His sweet tooth is insane. He stuffs ten cookies in his face and still says he needs something more after-

You watch whatever they show that’s spooky. Happily. Little Shop of Horrors, Young Frankenstein, Rocky Horror Picture Show, House of Wax and Aliens have been your collective favourites so far.

You’re both down for anything. Hammer horror scare jumps. The old black and whites and their swelling suspense. Slashers with ear shredding screams, overdone gore and long gleaming knives.

He tucks an arm around your shoulders and nuzzles his smug lips over the shell of your ear. You can hold my hand if you’re scared, Princess.

You chuck popcorn at him. Shove it in his mouth with three fingers till he smiles. Cackling in the dark.

Then he’s the one screeching like a banshee, and leaping out his seat on the hair splitting jump scene. You choke on your sip of coke.

“Awh honey. Did you want to hide in my chest if you’re scared?”

He grins and makes grabby hands for your boobs.

You drag his ass out of bed early one weekend to go to the pumpkin patch. It’s worth it though.

You romp around with him there, following along in his chunky boots and his leathers and you’re picking up big fat gourds like happy little kids. Taking them home to carve and set outside the trailer steps.

Jagged scary mouths and and sharp frowning eyes, and a candle flickering fiery inside. Your hands are stained turmeric yellow. The smell of carved Jack O Lanterns is almost suffocating. Pressed from thin wall to wall in the Munson trailer. Gooey gourd and the pipped squelching orange insides.

You warm the cider bought from the farm shop on the stove, to share with Wayne.

Bubble it with a cinnamon stick, orange peel and grated nutmeg. Maybe that would shift the scent of pumpkin innards. Apples and cinnamon stroked on the air. It’s delicious.

You weren’t planning on going trick or treating. But as it turns out, some of the kids - Hellfire Club included - want help with their costumes.

You were the responsible babysitter whose been looking after these kids on and off since middle school; of course you’d take them. And yes, you would also stop by the Diner after and get a mega ice cream shake. Maybe you’re a soft touch.

Eddie sidles up to you and rests his chin on your shoulder. Chocolate drop eyes all melty. “I want a mega shake too.”

“For gods sake. Alright. Get in the car.”

So it’s a visit to the craft store and then the dollar store to get body paint and fake cherry red blood, and scary rubber masks with fake tufts of tacky hair. Prop foam knives and plastic Jack O lantern buckets to store the hauled goodies in.

Eddie wrestles on a white Michael Myers mask and grabs you from behind in the costume aisle.

Pretends to put the edge of the foam knife over your throat. Those scrawny hips swaying into your ass. Ringed fingers spread over your stomach. Holding the knife to you menacingly.

“I’m in character sweetie. Got a thing for hella cute babysitters.” He cackles. His fingers walk playfully up your stomach. He saws the knife across your neck. Soft squishy edge of foam pressing into your collarbones.

You laugh in amusement. Clutching your hand over those chunky silver rings. “Does this make me a scream queen, Munson?”

He cackles. It’s lewd.

“Definitely my scream queen, baby.”

You tip your head back and away into him. Head on his shoulder. Hip to hip. His chest pasted to your back.

“In that case, you’re the scary monster of my heart. Honey.”

“You guys are seriously distressing. Can we go get shakes now?” Henderson asks.

“Eddie you’re gonna have to get off me. Let’s go kiddos.” You round up your wandering band of troops.

“I have attachment issues. Trouble around letting my prey go.” Eddie saws the knife side to side around your throat again. Up under your jaw. Like Norman Bates in Psycho. Playing with knives and pretty girls.

“I prefer what’s under the mask, handsome.” You beam.

“Now come on. If you want your mega chocolate shake you gotta unhand me if we have to get a move on.”

“A good killer never let’s go of his final girl. Don’t you watch the films?.” Eddie grins as he slips off the mask. Chucks the knife into your very loaded cart. His hair is all mushed around and you try and pat it back into semi-respectability.

“Not that you’re interested but I wanna puke.” Erica grimaces. Didn’t stop her reaching for more apple cider oreos though. Layering more goodies in your cart when she thought you weren’t looking.

“Lady Applejack- if I may-“ He holds his hand out. Other one clutched over his heart. Sweet sugar smile.

Five seconds later and Eddie had her hop up in the cart, cushioned by the sheer amount of costumes stuffed in there. And he’s running full pelt down the aisles and leaping on the back as they rocket along. Her laughs and Eddie’s rolling through the store back to you. He’s just a big kid too.

A couple nights later and Halloween finally strikes.

You expected to spend it cosied up at the trailer with Eddie, snacks, and a seriously good joint. You actually spend it taking the rag tag pack of kids, trick or treating.

You don’t mind it. Not really. They’re a pain in the ass. But they’re your pain-

You wore a chunky rust coloured sweater and jeans with your suede jacket. You were too old for costumes. Eddie agrees. Way too old for that shit. Like he’s all jaded. A grizzled veteran. His years of ghost costumes consisting of bed sheets with wonky cut out eyeholes, has passed.

But you’ve glimpsed the tattered polaroid Wayne had in his wallet. Sun bleached from the years and the thumbs over it, to know that little middle school Eddie wore a costume and got his plastic pumpkin bucket just like the rest of them.

He spends the whole time your shadowing the kids, with his arm slung over the back of your waist, slipping his hand up your warm spine and grumbling how hot you are. Your heat burning through to his rings.

You wander along. You listen to kids laughing and shuffling down the safe dark sidewalks of Hawkins. With its kitschy square box houses, painted picket fences and straight trimmed hedges. The golden porch lights that glimmer off the gold house numbers, and the carved pumpkins glowing orange off each doorstep.

He raids Dustin and Lucas’ buckets when they come back. He demands a Reece’s cup, a charleston chew and some Hersheys kisses. Escort fee you little pipsqueaks.

He also finds something else in one of those buckets. Rifling his big hand through the little bowl of plastic as Lucas tries to shuffle away. You’re just fixing the loose something or other on Dustin’s ghostbuster costume, so you’re distracted momentarily.

You pat Dustin on the back and send him off on his merry way. He gives you a fun size snickers as a thank you. Bobbing off to join the gang. You tell them to stay close by.

“Don’t go running off on us, kiddos. Or there’ll be a candy penalty by way of recompense.” You warn.

When you turn around Eddie’s grinning with something behind his back. He swoops suddenly to grab your waist and nibble on your neck.

You yowl laughter cause he’s got a set of those fake bleach white vampire fangs sinking into the soft of your neck. The goof.

“I vant to suck your bloooood.” He croons in a fake Transylvanian accent. Hissing and stabbing the teeth along your jugular. Gumming them into you. Stumbling you along joined along the sidewalk. Feet tangling and clashing together.

“Very convincing, Drac.” You laugh.

Then he’s on his ripped knees on the dirty leaf strewn tarmac. Probably getting his jeans all kind of dirty and wet.

Hands planted on your hips to keep you steady. He’s rifling through his leather jacket pocket and ripping a packet open. It’s too dark to see what it is.

Then he’s holding out an electric blue ringpop to you. He slips it up your ring finger on your left hand. Goofy grin - with big plastic fangs - shining up at you. His muddy puddle eyes shining all sincere. Bursting with little shooting gold stars in the street lights.

“Be my bride for eternity?” He asks. Speaking awkwardly around the fangs.

You hold your hand out and inspect the big gem of candy. The plastic was loose on your finger. But it made you smile. He always finds a way to make you smile. That’s who he is.

You reach across and wriggle those fangs out his mouth. They’re all spitty and gross. But it doesn’t stop you kissing him sweetly. Cupping his face and getting a good press of those adorable lips.

“Sure. But dealbreaker. I’m not sleeping in a coffin. Would be murder on my back.”

He grins. Back to being looped around you. Loping his steps along with yours. Leather hooked around your shoulder.

He’s kissing your cheek. Kiss after kiss after kiss. You twist to the side and meet his lips. Hand digging into the back of his messy hair. You smile cause he’s damn irresistible.

“Let’s make cocoa after this. Warm up. I got some marshmallows and some rum to put in it. Spice it up a bit.” He winks at you. You can’t resist that smile - fangs or no.

You raise an eyebrow. “You’ve got rum?”

And there’s that cheeky Munson grinTM surfacing. Stretching cheeks and bringing up dimples.

“It wasn’t always mine.”

Sounds about right.

Tagging some beloved Munsonites @indouloureux @stiegasaw @munsonquinns @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @starbxcks @morganamoonstone @ramona-thorns

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x original character #eddie munson x oc #halloween fluff #halloween #halloween vibes #autumn #fall spooky vibes #honestly fall and eddie? my jam son #falloween #punkwrites

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