what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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Eddie, begrudgingly: Dustin's older brother is kinda fine :/
I had a craving for best friend's older brother AU so I wrote some but it's not my forte I'm out of ideas so that might be it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Edit: jokes on me I guess [Part II] [Part III]
Eddie was about to knock on his freshman friend’s door when there was a loud commotion on the other side and the door opened by itself. A guy, probably around his age, nearly ran into him in his haste to leave the house. He startled, taking Eddie in. And then taking a double take, the way Eddie was used to people doing at the sight of him.
“Who are you?” the guy asked, scrunching his nose and not meeting Eddie’s eyes.
He felt his hackles rise, venom building in his throat and ready to spit. He wasn’t expecting this on a Saturday on his friend’s doorstep, but he guessed this was the kind of town where you just couldn’t wear your battle vest in peace anywhere. His upper lip twitched ready to form a snarl, when suddenly the guy's features softened, a spark of recognition lighting up his eyes.
“Wait. Let me guess. Eddie?”
Eddie faltered, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. He frowned.
“Yeah?”
The guy's face warmed up with a smile, and Eddie was not ready for that kind of emotional rollercoaster this early in the morning.
“Dustin’s stories do not do you justice,” he says for some reason, eyeing him again. Eddie wants to shrivel up and hide. What the fuck was happening. “He’s waiting for you in the kitchen,” he said, stepping to the side to invite him in. “I have to go to work, so you two be good, okay?” he says before waving a cheery goodbye and closing the door, disappearing just as abruptly as he showed up in front of Eddie. The inside of the house suddenly seemed dull.
Another ray of sunshine peeked from the kitchen, toothy grin and hazelnut curls.
“So you’ve met Steve!” Dustin grinned in place of a greeting.
Eddie gawked at him.
“That,” he pointed at the closed door. The sound of a car leaving the curb tickled his ears. “Was Steve?!”
“The adopted brother Steve? The Star Wars fan Steve? The badass older brother Steve?”
“Yes, all that,” Dustin nodded enthusiastically.
“I thought he was, like, 16!” Eddie flailed and it sounded like a petulant whine even to his ears. He winced.
Dustin frowned at him like he was being stupid. Eddie didn’t like that gaze, but unfortunately at this point, he was getting used to it. His younger friend leaned on the kitchen door frame watching Eddie toe off his shoes.
“He’s 19. What gave you that impression?”
Eddie frowned at his scuffed Reeboks. He nudged them with his toe to line up, looking for an answer.
“The adopted part, I think? He’s almost an adult, who adopts that old?”
He knew he had said the wrong thing as soon as he said it. He looked up at Dustin, whose face twisted uncomfortably.
“Shit, sorry man. I didn’t mean-”
Dusting clicked his tongue impatiently, interrupting him.
“It’s fine. This is an unconventional arrangement,” he said in that way when you heard something repeatedly. “I can tell you more, but after we make that character sheet, okay?”
Eddie nodded, eager to abandon his social faux pas. The Henderson’s were an unconventional unit, and that’s what he loved about them, at least from the stories Dustin shared. The guy was a little freak, just like Eddie, so it checked out his family was just as unconventional. So was Eddie’s after all.
The parallels made him warm up inside, the familiar need to protect his younger friends flaring up.
“Deal,” he nodded, following his friend inside the kitchen, where notebooks and DnD manuals already littered the table.
A couple of hours, two coffees and an unsolved argument about the intricacies of multiclassing later, they decided to take a break and Eddie could finally feast his eyes on the family photos on display. He stood in front of the newest one standing front and centre on the mantle. Steve was smiling shyly to the camera while Claudia Henderson had her arms around his shoulders and Dustin was grinning wide from his other side, hair ruffled by the older boy's hand.
“How long he has been living here?”
Dustin’s head popped out of the kitchen where he was rummaging for snacks.
“About a year. Remember the Starcourt fire?”
“Yeah?” Eddie frowned, taken aback by the seemingly unrelated question.
“Well, he’s been there and-” the boy frowned, fully stepping into the living room and crossing his arms. “Shit, Mom says I shouldn’t be babbling it around. That it’s Steve's story to tell.”
Eddie hummed, cocking his head.
“Your mom is very smart.”
Dustin unwrapped his arms, clenching his hands together.
“I guess I could tell you I mean who are you gonna tell? You just-”
Eddie raised both his hands, stopping him.
“Dude, he interrupted with all the disapproval his drug dealing nonconformist self could muster. “She’s right and that would be breaking your brother’s trust.”
“Uh. Yeah,” Dustin gulped, looking adequately ashamed at proposing the idea. “You’re right., he nodded.
This lasted about half a second because nobody could stop Henderson from being an egocentric know-it-all and since he was wrong he was now going to overcompensate for it. Of that, Eddie could be sure.
“We can go to his workplace and you could ask him!”
Eddie raised his hands again.
“Hold your horses Henderson, we’re not harassing your brother at work.” The boy was actually pouting, the little shit. “I am not that determined to hear it. I’ll just catch him another time I visit.”
That was the wrong thing to say because he wasn’t planning on being a recurring guest initially. Or maybe it was the right thing to say since Dustin positively beamed at the implication.
Maybe it was because the kid’s presence has been a good influence on him as well.
Also, while the story of Steve’s adoption didn’t seem that interesting before, the idea of a mall fire being somehow involved raised questions that were now itching the back of Eddie’s tongue. He had to ask them at some point.
*
“There’s this guy,” Eddie starts one day during lunch break.
“Oh-ho,” Gareth murmurs with disdain, the crumbs from his sandwich falling from his lips.
“Not like that,” Eddie glowered at him, slapping against his arm. Even though it was kinda like that. “He’s picking up Henderson after Hellfire today and if we run into him, I want you guys to be civil.”
“We’re always civil,” Jeff frowns at Eddie’s backhanded accusations.
“Yeah, especially when you guys are mooning after Mrs. Wheeler.”
The comment raised a wave of loud protests from his friends.
“I am just saying-”
“You’re just saying that guy is hot and we shouldn’t ogle him?” Gareth, the worst friend he has, raised his eyebrow.
“No, I’m just-”
“You calling dibs, Munson?” John the Traitor, the Backstabber, joined in. Johned in, if you will.
‘No!” Eddie protested, maybe a little too loud. A couple of heads turned but when they saw the ruckus was coming from the freaks table, they quickly lost interest. “He’s the worst. A hunk of jock with stupid hair but!” He rose a finger. “He’s Henderson’s family. And what do we do with family members in Hellfire?”
“Lure in.”
“Lull into a fake sense of security.”
“Cast charm person.”
“Exactly,” he smirked, pointing his finger at each of them in approval. “This case is no different.”
“It feels different,” Gareth murmured under his breath, earning himself another smack on the shoulder.
*
Eddie wrapped up the session and was giving out experience points to his players when a soft knock interrupted his counting. He frowned at the door.
“Speak ‘friend’ and enter!” he hollered to his sheep’s utter glee. He grinned at them.
Dead silence was all the response he got, so he assumed whatever normie was bugging them got discouraged. But then, Henderson was turning around in his seat, yelling at the door.
“It’s from Lord of the Rings! You know this one!”
There was a shuffle on the other side where apparently, Steve came already to pick up his brother.
“Oh! Um… Melon? Was that it?”
“You may enter!” Eddie commanded with a grin straining at his cheeks. Dustin was doing a good job educating his jock brother, apparently.
The guy pushed the door open, taking in the table full of teenagers. He waved hesitantly.
“You guys finishing up?”
“I’m handing out points, we need just a few minutes,” Eddie waved his hand. “And it’s Mellon.”
Steve frowned.
“That’s what I said.”
“Sure you did,” Eddie cocked his head condescendingly, ignoring the eyes of Corroded Coffin members staring at him. “Now sit and wait,” he gratuitously offered, snapping his fingers and pointing at a nearby bench, like Henderson’s older brother was some kind of dog.
To his surprise, he nodded shortly and obeyed, sitting down and watching him expectantly. Eddie took it as his cue to proceed. He coughed to gather his sheep's attention and went back to his meticulous calculations.
*
“That didn’t look like Charm Person to me,” Gareth hissed as soon as the younger members of Hellfire had left.
“Huh? What are you talking about?” Eddie scrunched his eyebrows, throwing him a look while he stuffed his campaign notes into his bag.
“You told us to be nice, but you ordered him around like he was one of the kids,” Jeff pointed out, arms crossing.
“I did not”
“You totally did.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he straightened up.
“What is this? Mutiny? Among my own kin? Ungrateful little herd I had nurtured on my own breast-”
He was interrupted by a cacophony of grossed out noises.
“Spare us the imagery, please.”
Eddie huffed indignantly, closing his bag.
“Then quit yapping. It was a singular lapse of judgement on my part,” he said with finality, throwing his bag over his shoulder. Without looking back, he walked off, hand raised in a goodbye, “Toodles, bitches.”
And he was gone.
Gareth sighed.
“Man, I love Eddie, but sometimes…” John cut himself off, shaking his head.
“Yeah.”
*
Eddie’s been on the fence about it for some time now. But the time was ticking and he did say more than once that ‘86 was gonna be his year, so maybe it was time to pocket his ego and make some calls.
Some very, very humiliating calls.
Sighing deeply he imagined himself going to the woods and digging up a deep hole. There he imaginary buried his pride, made a fancy map to find it later, hopefully in time for his graduation, and finally dragged himself back home and in front of his phone. Next to it, he tacked on a list of numbers of all his newest sheepies in case of emergencies. Like Hellfire scheduling.
He sighed once more, slumping dramatically before dialling the first of the numbers. As he listened to the dial tone, he squared his shoulders, decided a more confident pose was in order. He was now a man of action, taking his fate in his own hands. His pride was buried deeply in the darkest corners of the forest and only a courageous-
“Har- Henderson residence, this is Steve speaking.��
Eddie’s mind went blank, completely thrown off. Who was he calling again? What for?
“Hello?”
“Is this how you pick up the phone? Did I get the wrong house? Is this the British Queen?”
“... Eddie? Is that you?”
Busted.
“What gave me away?”
“Ah, only the dramatic nonsensical ramblings.” Steve answered, amusement in his voice.
“Thank you, I pride myself in those.” No pride! Pride is buried deep in the putrid soil of a forgotten battlefield! “But I’m here for the superior Henderson, please and thank you.” Ah yes, the Charm Person again. Somebody could think Eddie buried his Charisma along with the pride.
“Sorry, Claudia is at work right now.”
Eddie scrunched his nose, confused, the gleeful tilt to the voice in his ear irking him. Then he remembered the mom. A staple in most households.
“Har, har, Steven. The smart one.”
“Please never call him that to his face,” the man said with a resigned sigh.
“There wouldn’t be enough space in the room for both our egos if I did.”
Steve laughed then, softly and genuinely, before calling out for his younger brother.
After a loud rattle, Dustin’s lispy voice finally reached Eddie’s trailer.
“What's up?”
The man braced himself for what he was about to request.
“I need your help with an assignment.”
*
The door opened before he could even knock. Again.
“I thought I told you not to inflate his ego.”
“No, you told me not to call him smart. It is merely a by-product of my desperate attempts at graduating,” Eddie shrugged matter-of-factly. “Besides, I don’t respond to the likes of you.” He punctuated his words by seizing the guy up before brushing past him inside the Henderson’s house.
“The likes of- Excuse me?!”
Eddie was skipping towards Dustin’s room.
“Hey big guy I’m here for my tutoring!” he announced himself, standing in the open door to his friend’s room, who quickly beckons him inside. Steve’s heavy steps follow and soon he’s the one standing in the door frame, arms crossed, while Eddie bounces on Dustin’s bed.
“What do you mean the likes of me?” he asks, almost pouting.
“Mainstream,” offered Dustin, shuffling through stuff on his desk.
“Jocks,” added Eddie, still bouncing with glee, hair following up and down.
“Normies.”
“Pop listeners.”
“Mom friends.”
“Conformists.”
“Okay, I get it!” Steve threw his hands in the air, stopping the list that probably wouldn’t come to an end otherwise. “You’re the cool guys, have fun having your cool stuff,” he huffed angrily, grabbing the doorknob. Before he closed the door he threw one seething glance at Dustin. “Do not. Ask me for snacks,” he hissed before slamming the door shut.
Eddie flipped back on the bed, a wide grin splitting his face.
“Man, your brother is so easy to rile up,” he chuckled gleefully.
“Right?! He’s so bitchy,” Dusting turned around towards him, signature smile in place. Eddie hollered.
“He is!”
Alas, a slap of palms interrupted his delightful trashing around.
“I believe we have some physics to cover?”
Eddie groaned. Right. He didn’t come here to bother the older Henderson. Booo.
[Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]
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