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grahamstoney · 9 years

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Suicide Joke Gets Heckled at the Local Open Mic Night

New Post has been published on https://grahamstoney.com/anger/suicide-joke-gets-heckled-at-the-local-open-mic-night

Suicide Joke Gets Heckled at the Local Open Mic Night

I went to a local open mic comedy night here in Sydney on Wednesday night, to get up and do a four minute set.

There is plenty of angst on display by the comedians on the night for the audience’s entertainment. The MC leads the charge with a series of acrostic poems clearly displaying his disdain and resentment towards his stepfather. I didn’t even know what an acrostic poem was, so it turned out both enlightening and educational. He also does several bits in between other comedian’s sets, about his experience of depression, and of ironic conversations with his therapist.

Comedians Feel Like This about Hecklers and Step-Fathers Sometimes.

Several other comedians also speak about being depressed, taking antidepressants, seeing psychiatrists, psychologists, counsellors or therapists. Most of the stories sound funny, most of the time. But these people are clearly suffering.

I get a strong sense that a lot of comedians, deep down, are very angry. We’re putting on a brave face, smiling and joking around about some pretty serious issues. I sense that there’s a lot of primal rage going on, that we’ve been taught to suppress. We are using comedy to express that rage; or perhaps to mask it. Maybe both.

When it’s my turn, I get up and do a set about anger, focusing on my recent experience learning Tai Chi: the teacher who did more talking than teaching, and the woman that hassled me about the way I spoke one day after my practice down at the local beach. The stories I tell our literally true, but the deeper truth is that I’m not nearly as angry at my Tai Chi teacher as I am at, say, my mother. But I’m not ready to talk about that on stage; it’s still too painful for me to see the comic side of yet.

The other comedians are pushing boundaries when they start doing suicide jokes. They’re talking about their own potential suicides, and most of them are doing it in a way that is making us laugh. You’ve got to wonder what it is about human nature that make something like that funny. Actually, I know what it is: laughter is a stress relief. We laugh because we’re vicariously experiencing someone else’s pain, and the stress relief comes when our conscious mind realises that it’s not ours.

But the audience is not always laughing tonight. A female comedian ends her set by saying that since nobody finds her funny, she is leaving Australia to go to Europe where she can kill herself in a place where her mother won’t find her body. Part of me thinks she could well be serious; I don’t think anybody has laughed at any of her material tonight. I’ve heard her before, and I didn’t find her funny then either. Apparently that’s important if you want to be a comedian.

What to do? Tell her to call Lifeline? Call an ambulance and get them to come and pick her up as she comes off stage? Confiscate her passport? Or remind myself that the stories that most comedians tell onstage are distorted versions of the truth, exaggerated for our entertainment. I placate my discomfort by leaning to the attractive woman seated on my left in the audience and saying “Well, that was awkward!” to which she replies: “I know!”

I never did end up getting her number. The attractive woman beside me in the audience that is, not the suicidal comedian. Well, actually I didn’t get either of their numbers.

The MC gets back on and starts doing a suicide joke of his own, which prompts a middle aged woman seated in the centre of the audience to yell “Not funny!”

I have no idea what is going on for her; she looks old enough to have lost a son to suicide. Who knows.

The comedian launches into an angry tirade towards the heckler: “You have no right to judge me, or my suicide joke!” He starts yelling back at her.

I think “Wow, this guy is clearly in a lot of pain.” He’s reacting like a tiger with a thorn lodged deep in its paw.

Now most comedians hate hecklers, especially up-and-coming comedians who go to open mic nights like this. We don’t have the experience to handle heckling in a way that’s fun and engaging for everyone, we get triggered by the interruption, and it’s easy to lose track of where you’re at in your material.

Plus, maybe this guy is like me, and has a history of being criticised by older women when he is speaking his truth as best he knows how. Perhaps his suicide joke is an unconscious cry for help, and it hurts to get that met with criticism. Or maybe I’m just projecting myself into his situation, when really it’s completely different. Who knows.

Down the track, I suspect that dealing with hecklers just becomes part of the fun of it all. But when you are still new at this game and the heckler hits one of your hot buttons; that’s no fun for anyone.

My set tonight gets a few laughs, and certainly holds the audience’s attention. I feel heard. I also feel proud of myself for getting over my initial fear of even getting up on stage in the first place. I don’t really end with a bang; my final punchline doesn’t get any laughs at all. Which leads me to finish with a statement of fact that does get a laugh: “Well, I can see that wasn’t a really great ending.”

A bit like this post, actually.

#hecklers #open mic nights #suicide jokes #Anger

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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months

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your heart sings to mine

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'open mic night' rated: M wc: 992 cw: alcohol, implied/referenced recreational drug use tags: mutual pining, idiots to lovers, love confessions in the rain

🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

The bar didn’t call it karaoke night because they were hoping to attract talent.

At least that’s what the owner said when they arrived, ready to sign up for a song.

Steve sighed in relief, and Robin quickly got over it when she saw the list of people singing.

Eddie, of course, still added his name, much to the bar owner’s disgust and disappointment.

And now they were waiting through a line of mediocre at best singers, who probably only signed up because someone told them once that they had a nice voice.

"This woman knows that professionals have to be able to hit the notes, right?" Robin asked Steve, her face giving away her displeasure.

"I think she thinks she is a professional," Steve replied, wincing as the woman's voice cracked.

"I think I can at least hit the notes in the song I picked," Eddie grinned. "Promise not to boo me off the stage if I don't, though."

He was teasing; He had an actual band that he actually performed on stage with once a week. He would not only hit all the notes, but probably put on a hell of a show.

Steve was a little worried about that.

He'd only been to two Corroded Coffin shows before; The first was an accident when he was a senior, before he knew Eddie, and the second was with Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy shortly after Eddie was cleared to do regular activities again.

That show had been quite a life changing event for Steve.

It's not that he hadn't noticed his attraction to Eddie before, it's just that it was more on the backburner.

But seeing him on stage, lighting up the bar, becoming this huge figure while still maintaining his casual act of being the town outcast, Steve realized this wasn't just attraction.

This was the kind of feeling that happens when you aren't paying attention, when you think you know how you feel and then get hit with the moment.

That was over a month ago and Steve hadn't said anything to Eddie.

Nancy, of all people, had been the one to notice. She pulled him aside that night and asked him if he was sure.

And he wasn't. Not then, not now.

He was sure of his feelings, but not Eddie's.

"Eddie Munson!" the person handling the list called into the microphone.

"Cheer extra loud for me," Eddie winked at Steve as he got up and ran to the stage.

As if there was any chance Steve wouldn't.

The song started and Steve froze.

Head Over Heels was the last thing he expected to hear, and for a moment, he thought they mixed up Eddie's chosen song with someone else's.

But Eddie smiled into the microphone and started singing right on cue.

"Oh boy," Robin said from next to him.

Steve couldn't say anything.

All he could do was sit and watch and listen.

Eddie sang beautifully, his slightly rough voice adding an edge to a song that otherwise didn't have one at all.

When it ended, Steve stood up from his seat abruptly, needing fresh air, maybe a smoke.

The beer he'd been drinking wasn't doing it.

As he made his way outside, he pulled the joint Eddie had rolled for them to share out of his pocket, ready to light it.

He didn't smoke often, but this felt like the right time.

The rain pouring down outside didn't deter him from going, he knew he had a change of clothes in his trunk and he was willing to risk catching a cold if it meant having a moment outside alone.

But he was only alone for a moment.

He turned when the side door banged open, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Eddie's head turning from side to side to look for him.

"Steve!" Eddie said when he saw him against the wall of the opposite building. "Did you not like the song?"

He looked hurt.

Steve hated when he looked like that.

"No, I loved it," he said, doing his best to bite back the 'I love you' that wanted to pour from his mouth.

"Oh. Good," Eddie said, relaxing. "Why are you out here getting wet then?"

"Just needed some air."

Eddie frowned.

"Are you feeling sick? I can drive us back, I only had one drink."

"No, no. That's not it."

"What is it then?"

And Steve couldn't lie to him. He couldn't look at the vulnerability in Eddie's eyes, and think about the way he just sang Steve's favorite song on stage in front of at least 50 people, and lie.

"Why did you sing that song?" he finally asked.

"What? Because you like it," Eddie said, looking down at his shoes.

"But...why? Why does it matter if I like the song you sing at open mic night?"

"Because I want you to like me."

His voice broke and so did Steve's heart.

Steve dropped the joint on the ground, closed the distance between them, cupped Eddie's face in his hands, and kissed him.

It was wet from the rain, wet from Steve's tongue.

Wet from the tears he hadn't realized were falling from his eyes.

When he pulled away, Eddie was staring at him with wide eyes, his lips red from the hard kiss.

"I love you, Eddie. Before the song, even."

"You-"

"Yeah."

"I think I blacked out."

"You didn't," Steve huffed a laugh.

"No I had to. Because there's no way you just said-"

"I did. I do. I love you."

"I just sang Tears For Fears in public for you. In front of people. On a stage. I think it's pretty clear I love you too," Eddie smirked.

They kissed again, for so long that their clothes were soaked through, long enough that Robin came to find them and yelled at them to get a room.

The back of Steve's car was good enough for now.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #open mic night #writing challenge

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temptingfatetakingnames · 6 months

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Dancing in the Dark Part 2

Part 1

Time was moving slowly and Eddie wanted to smash his head on the table. Women kept coming over to talk to Steve. They brought him drinks (that he politely refused), they eyed him up and down, they complimented him, they touched him. On the shoulder, shyly on his knees, they leaned into his space and smiled brightly at him. They all asked him to sing again. Please, please sing again. You were amazing, they said with their breathy, feminine voices. Eddie wanted to scratch their pretty smiles off their stupid pretty faces. Steve shook them all off with a smile and Eddie was honestly a little surprised that he wasn’t soaking up the attention more.

Nancy and Johnathan were on stage singing a Sonny and Cher duet that probably would have sounded a lot better a few beers ago. It was late though, and most of the crowd was drunk and having a good time, singing along with them. The latest woman to strike out with Steve slinked away after leaving a napkin with her phone number on it.

“I’m gunna get some air,” Steve said, getting up from the table. Eddie watched him make his way through the crowd until he couldn’t see him anymore. When he turned back around, he saw Robin staring at him, her eyes wide and slightly unfocused.

She jerked her head in the direction Steve went. “You should go after him.”

“Should I?” Eddie asked, bewildered.

“Yeah, go see if he’s okay,” she said slurring her words a little.

“Shouldn’t you go see if he’s okay? Miss Best Friend?”

Robin pursed her lips and shook her head.

“Miss Best Friend says you need to go,” she said and then gave him the most uncoordinated wink Eddie had ever seen his life. He looked through the crowd towards the door that Steve had disappeared out of. He knocked his knuckles on the table and stood. Robin gave him two thumbs up and a huge grin that he couldn’t help but snort at.

He made his way through the room, gently nudging people out of his way. When he got to the door he took a deep breath, pushed it open and stepped outside. Steve was leaning up against the side of the bar with a cigarette hanging loosely in his fingers. He was looking up at the sky, deep in thought, a small frown hovering on his lips. He looked beautiful and sad and Eddie felt his heart clench painfully in his chest.

How had he missed it?

How fucking sad he looked sometimes?

“Hey man,” Eddie said as he walked over.

Steve looked at him and Eddie watched in real time as a mask came down over his face. He tilted his head to the side and a little half smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

It almost reached his eyes.

Almost.

If Eddie wasn’t looking closer now, he would have been fooled by it. It was well practiced, automatic, near perfect…and Eddie’s heart clenched again.

“Munson,” Steve said with a warm affectionate voice that Eddie didn’t feel he deserved. He held out his cigarette between two fingers and Eddie took it.

They traded it back and forth, quietly smoking.

“You should sing more often, you’re not as terrible as I was expecting you to be.”

“High praise coming from you,” Steve said and nudged Eddie’s shoulder playfully.

“Why don’t you?”

Steve shrugged and took another drag of the cigarette before answering. “I used to… with my mom. She loves Springsteen.”

It both was and wasn’t an answer. No parents. Big house. Eddie wondered when they stopped singing together. The silence stretched between them. Eddie fiddled with his rings, turning them around and around his fingers. He didn’t know how to talk about things like this – the big things. How do you ask your friend why he doesn’t sing with his mother anymore? How do you ask him why he sang Springsteen tonight if it hurt him?

“I was wondering what Robin was going to say earlier – what else you’ve been up to?” Eddie asked, choosing an easier question.

“Oh.” Steve seemed surprised. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Well, I figured out that I really want to work with kids. For my job? But I really screwed myself over with my grades so I’ve been talking to Hop about what I can do. He’s going to write me a reference letter and see if he can help get me into college next year. In the meantime, I’ve been volunteering at the public school. Basically, a camp counselor for an after-school program. I – I really like it. The kids are great. I’ve been teaching them basketball and swimming. There’s this one girl, Ashley – she’s so shy, but so sweet! Took me weeks just to get a smile out of her, but a couple days ago she hugged me and gave me cookies that she made with her mom –” Steve cut himself off before muttering, “sorry, I’m rambling…”

Another adorable blush started creeping over his cheekbones. Eddie couldn’t think of a time that Steve had talked so much at once. He usually just listened when they all got together, chiming in every now and then with a comment but never talking a whole lot. But then he tried to think about the last time he or the kids had asked him a question about what he was doing or thinking and – he couldn’t.

“It sounds great, man!” Eddie said around the lump in his throat. “Tell me more.”

Steve smiled. A real one this time, small and shy.

“Yeah?” he asked.

Eddie nodded… and Steve talked.

He had been volunteering since the spring. It was mostly younger kids whose parents weren’t home when school got out. Steve said that the program was pretty bare-bones and that the other counselors just let the kids do whatever they wanted in the school playground or gym but didn’t really plan any activities. Steve changed that by introducing sports and trips to the pool and lake as the weather warmed up.

The kids genuinely seemed to like him which surprised him but didn’t surprise Eddie at all. He told him more about Ashley. Her mom was on her own; her husband had passed away a few years ago. Steve didn’t say she was his favourite but Eddie could tell that she was. Something about how shy she was at the start and how she was slowly opening up to him really affected him. As he spoke, his smile got wider and he talked with his hands more and Eddie was captivated. He nodded along and let Steve talk for as long as he wanted, only asking the occasional follow-up question.

“I’m going to see if there’s a program I can volunteer with in the summer, too.”

“I’m sure there is,” Eddie said with a smile.

Steve ducked his head to hide his face. After a moment, he looked up through his hair and said, “thanks.”

“Thanks for what?”

“For asking,” Steve said. “For listening.”

“I’m sorry for not asking sooner.”

“How could you ask about something you didn’t know about?”

“I should have asked about you,” Eddie said quietly.

For a moment the mask slipped off Steve’s face and Eddie saw the same dark emotion in his eyes that he had seen earlier. But just as quickly it was gone – hidden behind his confident self-assured attitude and a smirk on his lips. Eddie was starting to see it for the armor it was.

“I’m not that interesting,” Steve said and leaned back against the wall of the bar, lifting his face up to the night sky. The words were regurgitated – someone had said them to him enough times that he had internalized them, consumed them until he thought they came from his own mind. Eddie had a lot of experience with that. There was a lot that they had in common, Eddie was realizing.

“I don’t want this to sound condescending or weird… or whatever, but –” Eddie paused and cleared his throat before continuing, “can I give you a hug?”

Steve looked over at him with surprise and opened his mouth, probably to say ‘no’ or ‘what the hell, Munson?’ but Eddie turned to him, arms spread wide and he closed it. The moment stretched and Eddie didn’t think he was going to hug him. He was just standing there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face – probably trying to determine Eddie’s sincerity so he held his eyes, stepped a little closer and opened his arms wider.

Hug me, Big Boy.

Steve closed the distance between them slowly, like he thought Eddie might change his mind if he moved too quickly. He smiled at him gently and Steve sagged forward, resting his head on his shoulder. He let out a sigh when Eddie brought his arms up and held him tightly. After a moment, Steve gripped him back just as hard.

Now that the hug was initiated, Eddie had no idea what to do. Rub his back? Try to get him to talk? He had never been good with his own feelings, let alone someone else’s. But Steve was his friend… and he was hurting.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked as gently as he could.

Steve immediately tensed up but didn’t pull away. Eddie rubbed small circles into his back and looked at the sky. The stars shone brilliantly in the night; he could see why Steve kept looking up at them. They held on to each other silently. Steve was still tense in his arms, despite the circles, and Eddie was convinced that he wasn’t going to answer. Which was fine, maybe a quiet hug was what he needed. The circles didn’t seem to be helping so he stopped. He brought one of his hands up to Steve’s neck and slipped his fingers into the hair at his nape. It was soft. Steve shuddered at the motion and went limp in his arms.

“No,” he whispered.

“No,” he forced out and Eddie could tell from his voice that he was fighting back tears.

“No,” he sobbed and clutched at Eddie with desperation. His body shaking as the tears overwhelmed him.

Eddie made soft shushing noises and rocked them gently, his fingers still tangled in his hair. Tears pricked at his own eyes in the face of Steve’s turmoil. He wished they were somewhere else; somewhere warm and quiet where he could bundle Steve up and keep the world from hurting him… keep the world from hurting him more.

He felt small in his arms… fragile. Which was crazy because Steve was a protector. He had saved the world. He had saved Eddie – had dragged him out of hell despite his own injuries. But who protected him? Who asked him how he was doing? What he was feeling? Eddie was desperate to know why he sang Dancing in the Dark. When Robin forced him up on stage with whatever secret he didn’t want the rest of them to know he could have done any song he wanted. He chose Dancing in the Dark – and then sang the most heartbreaking version Edde had ever heard. Steve had put everything he was feeling into it; had practically screamed at them to see him.

“Talk to me, Steve,” he prodded softly. “Tell me anything, everything. I want to hear it. Talk to me, please.”

Sniffles and shaky breaths, but strong arms still clutched Eddie tightly.

“I – I don’t sleep…” Steve said so quietly Eddie had to strain to hear the words. “Everyone keeps saying it’s over but it doesn’t feel over. It’s been over before…and even when I do manage it, I have these awful dreams. Robin stays over when she can, and it helps… but she’s leaving and I don’t know what I’m going to do without her. And the kids are getting older and they don’t need me anymore. And I finally have a goal, something I want to do but what if I fucked myself over in high school and I end up stuck at Family Video forever? I don’t know what I’m doing Eddie, and I can’t sleep.”

Eddie was once again struck by how much they had in common. Nightmares and the fear that the Upside Down could come back at any moment? Check. Unfulfilled dreams and the fear of falling into an average boring life? Check. He didn’t know how to tell Steve that he understood, that he saw him. There was a song that came to mind, one of his favourites by Dio that always helped him when he felt lost and alone. Talking about feelings was hard, but singing? Eddie could do that. He could do that for Steve.

He started singing Rainbow in the Dark quietly, giving Steve something to lean into, to listen for. He softened it, like Steve had with Dancing in the Dark, turning it into a companion piece – a continuation, a parallel.

When there's lightning You know it always brings me down 'Cause it's free and I see that it's me Who's lost and never found

I cry out for magic I feel it dancing in the light It was cold, lost my hold To the shadows of the night

No sign of the morning coming You've been left on your own Like a rainbow in the dark A rainbow in the dark

Do your demons, do they ever let you go? When you try to do they hide deep inside? Is it someone that you know?

There's no sign of the morning coming You've been left on your own Like a rainbow in the dark Just a rainbow in the dark

Steve’s tears had stopped as Eddie sang. They were holding each other lighter now, softly standing close. Steve had leaned back so he could see Eddie’s face as he sang.

“It is over, Steve… truly over. We won and Vecna is dead. I know that won’t stop the nightmares – it hasn’t for me. Not yet. But it will eventually, when it keeps being over. I’ll come over when Robin is gone. We can help each other sleep, yeah? And the kids are always going to need you – maybe not in the ‘demon slaying, use my body as a shield’ way – but in the older brother who loves them way. I think you’re interesting, Steve. I think…” Eddie paused, trying to get his thoughts together. “I think you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met. I want to know everything about you. I want to know why your mother stopped singing with you and why your house is always empty. I want to know why you sang Springsteen tonight. I want to know why you got so good at hiding what you’re really thinking and feeling. I want to know your favourite colour and your favourite food. I want to know about your dreams and your nightmares…I want to know it all.”

“Why?” Steve whispered.

He was close enough that Eddie could see the green flecks in his eyes. His face was blotchy and red from crying and his hair was a mess from Eddie’s fingers, and he had never looked more beautiful. They still had their arms around each other but they weren’t hugging anymore – it was more a loose embrace, and Eddie was viscerally aware of the difference. Steve wasn’t pulling away though, was holding his eyes like they held the secrets to the universe. It made him feel brave.

“Because I like you and I want to know you, Steve Harrington.”

Steve smiled brightly, warming Eddie with the glow. He looked down at the hand that Eddie had on his waist and grabbed it. And just like that Steve was holding his hand, and smiling at him and Eddie didn’t know what to do with the feelings fluttering in his chest. He thought he might be having a heart attack.

“I like you too, Eddie Munson.”

He was definitely having a heart attack. Eddie squeezed his hand and then moved forward a bit so he could rest his forehead on Steve’s. He huffed out a small laugh, unable to comprehend how they had got here.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to get our friends and take them home, then I’m going to come over and we’re going to sleep and in the morning we’ll talk more. Sound good, sweetheart?” The term of endearment popped out of his mouth and Eddie blushed furiously.

But Steve smiled and said, “Sounds good, Eddie.”

Final Part

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I really wasn't planning on writing a part two of this ficlet so I didn't have a plan when I started. I hope you like it as much as the first part, it turned out much sadder than I thought it was going to. It's funny to me that even though Steve sang Dancing and Eddie sang Rainbow I think the songs work better the other way? Steve is the Rainbow and Eddie is Dancing - I guess that's why they sang them to each other <3

@newtstabber @warlordess @tillystealeaves @imfinereallyy @heartsong18 @saltyseagoat83 @aceofwands @djohawke @th30ra3k3n @lazy-duck @surreal-honeypot @awkwardgravity1 @yoriposts @alycatavatar @tearsonthemoon222 @roastingdragon @mightbeasleep @helpimstuckposting @goblintendencies

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #Steve Harrington can sing #Dancing in the dark #Open mic night #steve x eddie

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weepylucifer · 5 months

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it's beautiful to picture the anodic dance club as like, the new hot spot for the young people of martinaise to hang out and all bond with each other and have all their different worldviews mingle and create new things... but lbr chances are half of those people are going to end up just not really liking anodic music. like, thanks for keeping the pale hole contained or whatever but this music blows

#posts by me #it's just a genre like any other tbh. it's gonna have fans it's gonna have haters #the speedfreaks: here is our radical new life-affirming jam #cindy: it's a bit trash innit can you get some garage punk bands to play here #the smoker: can we host an open mic night i have slam poetry i would like to share #piss and fuck: this is not voidcore enough #steban: i only listen to prog rock #ulixes: and revolutionary folk anthems #andre and noid: everyone's a fucking critic huh #egghead: [sad ant with bindle image]

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atimeofyourlife · 5 months

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A song for the night

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: open mic night | rated: t | wc: 689 | tags: pre-steddie Eddie performs at open mic night at the bar Steve works at

Open Mic Night was somehow both Steve's favorite and least favorite night of the month to be working the bar. It was his favorite because it usually wasn't too busy, and he got to enjoy the local talent of musicians and comedians. It was his least favorite because for every one good or half decent act, there were five or six bad ones. And unlike the patrons of the bar, he couldn't just go out for a smoke during every comedian whose jokes sat firmly in the misogynistic, homophobic, and racist categories, or every tone-deaf singer that didn't understand how to tune an instrument. And to top it all off, he had to be the one to get up on the stage between each act, enthusiastically thanking them, trying to rouse something of an applause, before introducing the next act.

It was after a frightfully painful comedic routine, that seemed to have consisted solely of the guy talking about how much he hated his wife, that Steve caught sight of him. An attractive guy with long dark hair.

"Okay, thank you Derrek, for that interesting comedy routine. Everybody, give it up for Derrek." Steve kept his voice full of fake enthusiasm as he brought his hands together a few times. He then checked the list for the name of the next act. "And next up, we have another local musician. Please welcome Eddie Munson to the stage." Steve clapped a few more times as he made his way offstage, heading back behind the bar. He glanced up at the stage, and saw the most handsome man he'd seen in his entire life. It felt like it didn't matter whether or not this Eddie was any good, Steve was going to enjoy just watching him.

He couldn't keep staring the entire time, having to serve drinks to the other patrons of the bar, but his attention did keep getting drawn back to the man on the stage. He looked and sounded incredible, playing an acoustic medley of metal songs. Steve had to shake himself out of it after he'd gotten distracted while pouring a drink, overfilling the glass and covering his hand in beer. He handed the beer over to the customer, before drying his hands on a paper towel. Thankfully, it was nearly time for the next act, so Steve made his way back to the stage, hoping that someone else being up there would help him focus on his work again. Eddie finished the last song, and stepped back from the mic, starting to pack down his guitar. Steve stepped on to the stage, applauding as he went.

"Now, wasn't that incredible, ladies and gentlemen. Everyone, give a hand for Eddie Munson." Steve said into the mic, not having to fake his enthusiasm as he clapped this time. "And after that amazing set, next up we have Tammy Thompson."

Steve went back to the bar, wincing at how this next singer sounded. She'd performed several times at previous open mic nights, giving Steve an in joke about her sounding like a Muppet with Robin.

He started serving drinks again, noticing how the bar had emptied significantly, most of the regulars heading out to smoke for a few minutes to save their sanity, Steve just wished he could join them.

"What can I get to make this sound better?" A voice asked.

Steve turned quickly to see Eddie, and it took him a moment to get his brain to formulate the words needed to respond. "Legally, I don't think I'm allowed to sell something that strong."

Eddie laughed at that, his laugh as breathtaking as his singing voice. "In that case, I'll just take a PBR."

"Sure." Steve grabbed the beer. "Anything else I could get for you?"

"Your number, maybe?"

Steve's eyes widened for a second as he blushed a deep pink. He scrambled for a pen and a napkin, scribbling down the number as neatly as he could. "Here. Maybe we could get a drink some time?"

They both winced as a particularly pitchy note came through the speakers. "Just not when it's another open mic night."

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #pre steddie #steddieholidaydrabbles #open mic night #stranger things #atimeofyourwrites

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valentineish · 11 months

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This pride month, us queers really need to examine if we're honoring bodily autonomy. The obvious one is to not harass trans and intersex people about our anatomy. But y'all... Do better with disabled and fat people, too.

Stop asking strangers "what happened" to our bodies. Do not question why we need accessibility devices or medical equipment. Above all, go fuck yourself with your own unsolicited health advice.

This shit is dehumanizing. There is no pride in alienating allies and family like you do.

#pride #fat liberation #bodily autonomy #disability #cripple punk #ableism #fatphobia #transphobia #open mic night #queer

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h3xactinellida · 11 months

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a complex colony of horny hydrozoans call that a siphonowhore

#i show up to an open mic night and this is my only joke. thank you thank you #marine biology #siphonophore #bio blogging

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runaway90s · 4 months

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Dear Madison, WI

I will be playing at Mickey's Tavern open mic night every Sunday evening (starting at 11 PM) and

The Comeback Inn open mic night every Monday evening (starting at 8 PM)

To all my musician (and non-musician) friends past, present, and future, I hope to see you there!

#madison wi #open mic nights

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bulletsgirl · 1 year

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"recreational marijuana is legal in the state of california," d.w.m.

#silly title because i debuted it at open mic night and wanted to say something silly. hello #.w #p #mine #wa

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thisapplepielife · 5 months

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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

You Say Bark, I Say Bite

Prompt Day 1: Open Mic Night | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Smoking | Tags: Pre-S4, Pre-Steddie, Platonic Stobin, Corroded Coffin

"No, no, no," Steve says, waving his hand in front of him. He's not doing this.

"Steve, please," Robin begs, "it's just one night. For me. You love me."

There are so many other ways they could spend a Saturday night that don't involve listening to shitty musicians. They'll all suck. He knows that. They've done this before, and he's never heard anything he's liked.

"Steve. For me," she pleads, giving him the eyes.

He sighs. He was always going, but he's not happy about it. And he wants Robin to know that.

"Tammy Thompson sounds like a Muppet," Steve says.

"You've said," Robin mumbles, annoyed.

That's the whole reason they're here in Indianapolis tonight, at some under twenty-one club, listening to teens and college kids play shitty music. To hear Tammy Thompson nasal her way through a song or two.

Someone brought a goddamn flute. To an open mic night. A flute. These people are all weirdos. No talent to be found.

Then the little stage is suddenly bustling with movement, bringing in actual instruments and equipment. Okay, maybe they're getting somewhere. This has to be better than another douchebag with a guitar.

Oh, no.

That's definitely a douchebag with a guitar.

"Is that…Eddie Munson?" Steve asks, cutting Robin a look.

"Well, duh," Robin says, totally unbothered by this very weird turn of events, "he has a band, you know that."

He knows that? He doesn't know that. He knows Eddie Munson is a dealer. He knows Eddie Munson is a freak. But he didn't know Eddie Munson played the guitar.

"I didn't fucking know that," Steve says, confused, wrinkling his forehead.

"They play at The Hideout every week. Eddie, Jeff, Gareth and Goodie. Corroded Coffin. You know that. Everybody knows that. Eddie is always hanging up flyers everywhere."

News to him. He doesn't know any of these guys. Who the fuck is Goodie? That's not even a name.

"I think you're making shit up. I don't recognize any of those guys. Like, not at all. Did they go to Hawkins? While I was there?"

Robin looks at him like he's an asshole. Okay, they must have.

"They gotta be way younger," Steve finally says, indignant. "I know Eddie. Because he's been a senior for the last five years."

She gives him a withering look, "Three years. Last three years."

Like that's better.

Eddie is quietly helping the drummer get his shit set up as fast as they can, and Steve watches. This should be good. This will be way more entertaining than Tammy Thompson. Because he can't fathom what Eddie Munson might think is good music. God, Steve hopes he tries to sing.

He's positive this will be worth the cover charge, for sure. A trainwreck.

It's not a trainwreck. Eddie Munson falls back, and the black kid takes the mic. Okay, he didn't expect that. He expected Munson to be front and center.

"Who's the singer?"

"Jeff Williams. His sister was in your class," Robin hisses.

Oh, okay. Molly Williams was fun. She wouldn't give him the time of day when he tried to get her to go on a date with him, but fun. He didn't even know she had a little brother.

They start playing a song, and Steve doesn't recognize it.

Jeff shouts, "All aboard!" and laughs as the drummer starts clicking his sticks together, then playing, and it's okay. Fine.

Then, Eddie starts playing the guitar.

Goddammit.

Steve hates to be wrong, and hates that this is really working for him. Eddie Munson looks at ease, happy, and kinda hot. Steve's never seen him look like that at school. Not once. Munson is snarky, snappy. Always quick to bite back. Funny, for sure, but Steve would avoid him, because Munson never shied away from trying to make Steve look stupid at every fucking turn.

But he can play the guitar, apparently.

Robin nudges his shoulder, "They're good, right?"

He nods, not looking away. They're good.

They play another heavy song, but it's Queen. They're doing a metal cover of Bicycle Race, and that amuses Steve, he likes Queen.

After they're done playing, Steve makes excuses, and slips outside into the alley. He's pretty sure Eddie Munson isn't going to stay to watch this other shit.

Eventually, there he is, guitar case in hand. Steve thinks he'd like to ride him like a bicycle, and that's a new thought.

About Eddie. Not about men.

"Oh, hey," Steve says, leaning against the wall of the alley, smoking a cigarette he bummed. Robin will kill him, but he needs an excuse to be out here. Like he wasn't waiting. Even if he totally was.

"Harrington," Eddie says with contempt, "what brings you out here with us freaks?"

"Robin," Steve says, and Eddie gives him a look.

"Buckley's really friends with you? I thought that was a terrible rumor."

Steve pretends that doesn't hurt, and just nods.

"Too bad, I like her," Eddie says, and this was a mistake. What the fuck was he thinking? Eddie Munson will just give him a tongue-lashing, and not in a fun way. He's an idiot for thinking otherwise. Steve isn't this hard up.

"Okay, well, you guys looked good," Steve says, pushing himself off the wall.

Eddie laughs, incredulous, "You thought we looked good?"

"Sounded," Steve corrects.

"You, King Steve, thought we sounded good? I've been to your house parties. You don't listen to metal. Do you even know who Ozzy is?"

Steve doesn't, and shakes his head. And Eddie's been to his house? Since when? Nevermind. Doesn't matter.

"You guys were good compared to all that other shit I had to sit through tonight. You sounded like, you know, actual music. I guess."

Eddie raises an eyebrow, like he can see right through Steve.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Steve suddenly feels like he's in big trouble. Trapped. Backed into a corner.

Eddie smiles and takes a step towards him, and it's predatory.

Steve swallows.

Oh, he's definitely in trouble.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, head on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🎤

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #writing challenge #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #corroded coffin fic #open mic night #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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dognonsense · 10 months

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I PERFORMED LIVE TODAY AT an open mic with me and zoe having gone thru my songs once before for them to learn the chords. That was all the practice we had before

BUT THE CROWD LOVED US :D!!! Had people dancing, which is usually hard cause this an outdoor venue and everyones on their picnic blankets instead of in the crowd. BUT THEY DANCED!! :3

My bestie recorded the whole thing so ill make it as a little youtube video so i can share it :3

#punk #diy #folkpunk #folk punk #music #open mic night #live music

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temptingfatetakingnames · 30 days

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Dancing in the Dark Final Part

AO3 / Part 1 / Part 2

Eddie wouldn’t say he drove over the speed limit when he took his friends home, but he certainly toed the line. He also wouldn’t say that he kicked them out of his van as soon as he pulled up to their places, but that would be a lie. He was…anxious to get back to Steve. He hadn’t wanted to leave him in the first place but they both had people they needed to get home.

Designated driver duties done for the night; Eddie was on his way to Steve’s place and he was freaking out a little.

Okay, he was freaking out a lot.

Him and Steve were friends. They had slept over at each other’s places before. What they hadn’t done is sleep in the same bed after admitting they liked each other. Steve was struggling, and Eddie didn’t want to add to his stress by being nervous or weird about it. Steve needed sleep, that’s what Eddie was going over to help him with.

Sleep.

Nothing else.

…Maybe cuddling – to help Steve sleep.

The beamer was already in the driveway when Eddie pulled up to the Harrington House. He turned the van off and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans before he got out. His heart was a fluttering thing in his chest as he approached the door. Before he could knock, it swung open. Steve smiled. A real one, small and soft, and Eddie felt himself melt into a gooey puddle. Oh. The power that little smile already had over him was dangerous.

“Hey,” Steve said, smiling wider.

“Hey,” Eddie replied, smiling back, and they stood staring at each other in the doorway like lovesick fools.

“Come in,” Steve said and stepped back so Eddie could pass in front of him as he closed the door. Eddie was a little unsure where to go. Living room? Kitchen? Right up to Steve’s room? It was late and Steve was probably tired but adrenaline was coursing through Eddie like a goddamn freight train. His fingers tapped against his legs.

“Need anything? I can grab you some comfortable clothes to change into?”

Eddie hadn’t gone home to grab an overnight bag because he couldn’t bear to be away from Steve any longer than was strictly necessary. He nodded and Steve grabbed his hand, leading him through the house and up to his room, turning off the lights as they went.

Right to bed then.

When they got to his room, Steve let go of his hand to go over to his dresser. He pulled out pajama bottoms and a worn-out t-shirt. Eddie wasn’t going to tell him that he usually just slept in his boxers… if he slept in anything at all.

“Thanks,” Eddie said as Steve handed him the bundle of clothes. He went to change in the bathroom, giving them both a moment alone. The reflection staring back at him from the mirror was of a person he barely recognized. Wide eyed and red cheeked. He was so fucked. He dropped his head into his hands, shaking it back and forth. After his little internal crisis, he changed into the pajamas. They were soft and baggy on him. He and Steve were pretty close in height but Steve was broader than him, more muscular. As he was about to head back out he heard a soft knock on the door.

He opened it to Steve, a toothbrush in his hand and wearing his own pajamas.

“For you,” he said, holding it out.

Eddie took it. “Sorry, I really should have stopped at home first but I –” Eddie cut himself off before he admitted that he hadn’t wanted to waste any more time away from him.

“All good,” Steve replied, “I always have extras handy.”

He walked into the bathroom and fluffed his hair in the mirror before grabbing his own toothbrush. After squeezing out some toothpaste onto his brush, he passed the tube to Eddie, who did the same. They brushed their teeth, eyes meeting in the mirror and Eddie couldn’t help feeling slightly seduced by the look he was being given. It made his body feel warm – to have Steve Harrington looking at him like that. He wanted to kiss him. The urge to reach out almost impossible to resist. But he did.

Sleep, Eddie reminded himself. He was here to sleep… and talk. No kissing.

Not yet anyway.

When they were done, they walked back to Steve’s room and nerves lit up his spine as Steve turned on the small lamp beside his bed and turned off the main light. The room was cast in an intimate glow, the lamp only giving off a small amount of light. Steve flipped down the covers and slid under them, looking at Eddie with a searching look as he hesitated to do the same thing on the other side. Eddie crawled into the bed, heart pounding wildly, with none of the grace Steve had displayed.

They laid down on their backs, faces toward the ceiling, letting the night settle around them. Steve was warm beside him, a powerful force of gravity, pulling Eddie closer. Steve must have felt it too, because seemingly at the same time, they turned towards each other. Edging closer and closer on their respective pillows until Eddie could feel Steve’s minty breath on his face. Slowly, so slowly, Eddie reached out and put his arm over Steve’s shoulders, drawing their bodies closer. Steve didn’t resist but melted forward until their bodies aligned tightly against each other, legs intertwining.

Eddie didn’t know what to do with the feelings in his chest when Steve sighed and snuggled in against him. They felt too large for his body, threatening to erupt and spill out everywhere. Steve Harrington was in his arms. Soft and warm. Eddie breathed him in deeply, a delicious smelling cologne still lingering on his skin.

“Good night, sweetheart,” Eddie said.

He felt Steve’s response against his skin. “Good night, Eddie.”

Silence descended and Eddie closed his eyes, trying desperately to calm his pounding heart so he could go to sleep. He didn’t question Steve’s need to leave the small light on. There had been many nights that he hadn’t been able to sleep without them. Flashlight in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other.

“I’m not tired,” Steve whispered.

Eddie couldn’t help but snort and Steve laughed a little.

“Alright,” he capitulated. “I am tired, but I don’t want to sleep yet.”

“Is there something you want to talk about?”

He went quiet, thinking, and Eddie held him close – wondering if he would fall asleep before answering.

“You said you want to know more about me… so, ask a question. Any question and I’ll answer it.”

“What’s the secret Robin has on you?” Eddie asked immediately and was instantly more awake because of the riotous blush that erupted on Steve’s cheeks.

“Any question but that one!”

“Too late sweetheart, you said any question!”

Steve gaped up at him but Eddie just looked calmly back, eyebrow raised, waiting for the answer. He refused to look away and after a moment Steve released a resigned huff and hid his face into Eddie’s neck. He fought to suppress his body’s shiver as Steve’s breath ghosted over his skin.

“It was you,” Steve said so quietly Eddie had to listen closely to hear his voice. “In the van when you called me Big Boy…” Steve trailed off, like that answered his question. Which it very much did not. What was him? He gave Steve a little shake.

“Shit. You’re really going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

“You gave me a goddamn sexual crisis! Robin was absolutely no help as I struggled for months to figure out what I was feeling was a crush…” Heat bloomed warm and quick on Eddie’s face at Steve’s admission.

“But you didn’t see me,” Steve continued and Eddie’s good feeling disappeared as quickly as it had come. Steve huffed a laugh that sounded suspiciously close to a sob. “But no one did, so that was nothing new.”

Eddie wanted to say that he was wrong – that he had seen him – but he wouldn’t lie. He saw him now… and hoped that was enough.

“You hid yourself too well, Steve. I had no idea you felt that way. I’m sorry it took me so long to see behind that mask you show everyone… but I’m looking now. I see you… and Steve?” Eddie asked and waited for him to lean back and look up at him. When he met his eyes, Eddie said, “I like what I see.”

Emotion burned in the hazel depths staring back at him. Fierce and bright and Eddie threw his no kissing rule out of the window and captured Steve’s lips with his own. As much as he wanted to bite and consume, he kept it gentle and soft. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed and he deepened the kiss, tongue questioning at Eddie’s closed lips. Without thought, they parted and Steve surged forward. His hands came up to Eddie’s cheeks, before slipping behind his neck and into his hair. The kiss became wet and slippery, messy in their desperation to taste each other. There was no longer anything gentle about it. Eddie nipped at Steve’s plush lower lip and was gratified when he moaned deep into his mouth. Eddie clutched him closer before releasing him and backing up as much as Steve’s hands in his hair would allow. They needed to slow things down… and breathe.

Steve let out a slow breath. “I wasn’t expecting this,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you. All of this because of a song?”

Because of a song? No. Because of how Steve sang it. So raw, like he was pulling the lyrics out of himself bleeding. Eddie had never heard anything like it. He wasn’t sure if he ever would again.

You can't start a fire You can't start a fire without a spark

“It wasn’t just the song. But it did…open my eyes, I guess? I had never seen you be so vulnerable before. You always act so tough, so unshakeable. The way you sang that song showed me that I didn’t understand you at all, that I had seen the surface of you but didn’t look any deeper. Everything you said about your fears and your dreams – I get it. I really fucking get it.”

Steve was nodding along with what Eddie was saying, his fingers idling playing with his hair.

“It was easier… to try and lock it all away. If I just told myself that I was fine, that everything was fine – then it would be. But the box wouldn’t stay shut. Not this time.”

I'll shake this world off my shoulders

Eddie had experienced horror. Had lived through hell. It was easy to forget that Steve had experienced it, too – but for longer. He remembered being absolutely stunned when they had finally told him the whole story. Demogorgons, Russians, Mindflayers, Vecna. The men and the monsters Steve had fought. Eddie was still fucked up over his one encounter, he didn’t know how the rest of them did it.

“You didn’t talk to Robin?” he asked.

“I did. Of course, I did. She’s my best friend but she’s moving on – it’s over for her and I wanted it to be over for her, too. So, I stopped bringing it up. She didn’t question it. To her – to everyone – I was back to my old self. Easy, simple Steve Harrington.”

“Steve, I –”

“I know that I hid away parts of myself,” Steve interrupted. “Hid them well enough that no one could see them. I don’t blame anyone for not seeing through me, I just…” Steve sighed and trailed off. He flipped onto his back so he was staring up at the ceiling, hands across his chest.

I could use just a little help

Eddie hesitated but Steve had told him to ask questions. So, he asked the other one that had been burning a hole in his tongue the whole night.

“Why did you sing that song?”

“I didn’t want to sing at all but Robins stubborn and I knew she wouldn’t let it go. I wasn’t planning on singing it, but I heard you guys – laughing and joking. Abba, Duran Duran, Madonna.” Steve said and paused. “I didn’t want to be easy, simple Steve Harrington anymore.”

There's a joke here somewhere and it's on me

Shame burned through Eddie, sudden and sharp. An uncomfortable feeling that he had little experience with. He had no idea that Steve had heard them, but he should have. Their table had been right in front of the stage, and they certainly hadn’t been quiet about it. At the time, he probably wouldn’t have thought that Steve would care.

“I decided at the microphone – to try and show you all who I am, what I’ve been feeling. To see if it would make any difference,” Steve said and turned back to face him, a hand under his cheek. He smiled slowly, softly. Beautifully sad. “I guess it did.”

He was too far away, so Eddie drew him against his side again. Without hesitation Steve tucked his head under Eddie’s chin and clutched his back.

You can't start a fire Worryin' about your little world fallin' apart

“It did,” Eddie agreed quietly. “You shocked me – shocked all of us. I’m sorry we made you feel that way. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m not happy about how we ended up here, but I am happy to be here, with you warm and lovely in my arms. I want to get to know you better, which means no more hiding what you’re thinking and feeling. Promise me, Steve – no more hiding.”

“Lovely? …You think I’m lovely?”

“Steve,” Eddie warned.

“No more hiding, I promise. I’m happy to be here, too.”

“Good,” Eddie said and kissed his forehead. “We should go to sleep.”

Steve poked him hard in his side instead and Eddie laughed before telling him what he wanted to hear.

“Yeah, Steve. I think you’re lovely.”

As if there was any doubt.

A mumbled response that Eddie couldn’t hear came from the man in his arms.

“What was that?”

“Think you’re lovely, too.”

Eddie couldn’t keep the massive smile that came over his face or the warmth that settled into his heart. Gooey puddle, that’s what he was.

“Good night, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered into the dark.

“Good night, Eddie.”

He held Steve tightly all through the night. Held him against the darkness and the loneliness and the nightmares. Held him because he was precious and worth protecting.

Even if we're just dancin' in the dark

---

I tagged everyone who commented on the first part asking for more, I hope that's okay!

I think that will be it for this little fic, I wanted to finish off the night and give a bit more of a conclusion. I truly hoped you enjoyed this mostly fluffy and a little bit angsty final installment. As always, it's a pleasure to share with you all <3 Good night!

#steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington can sing #open mic night

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