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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this is for honest xiyao enjoyers only. respect yourself
one of the reasons im creatively stuck on no return is that i also have to decide what Sir Not Appearing lan xichen is doing in jin lings section. which is suffering, obvs! am i going to write his fic, probably not historically speaking, but its timeline defines parts of no return so i am here. in my own bullshit.
why can't i decide? well i think this fic is xiyao. and i have little?? opinion??? on that. its not quite a pairing that baseline works for me, which isn't a problem because thats not how i write. what i want is to understand it, and i don't. i think its a pairing of 'like-to-like', in that they're clearly people who are pleased with eachother, but in my own reading of the novel i don't think they understand eachother, which is my usual shipping motivator. i also think sasunaru don't always understand eachother. so im like. banging my sns brain. he solution is to read what popular xiyao looks like and figure out what we're working with. but i think hmmm. that my interpretation of them individually gets in the way.
for instance, in this interpretation, i don't think jgy knows about lxcs fucked up conception* because of how lxc self conceives. in the creation i do have of his story he omits what is not useful, and has an austere knowledge of his own history, because what he does know doesn't match his own morality (if i do write this story i think we're going to get a whole lot of 'hey mxtx what did you mean? by that?' with what Madam Lan means for people who aren't wangxian). i don't even think his keeping this is a thing he'd conceive of as a 'secret' its like. lore. in the way the history of the rules is lore**.
and i'm like. working back from the idea that jgy probably would consider it a bit harsh. he can intellectually get it! and respect it! but the idea of someone you revere finding you on some level untrustworthy is a thing i think could stick for him. i can't see this changing their relationship but i don't know how a jgy who has to rationalize the specific unplumbed id of er-ge does. this is compelling to me, a horrid, but is this what other people like? does this make a xiyao???? probably not, but it is the only hook i have.
(some amount of this series is me, unfairly, kicking mxtx for being lazy about how she views her own characters. this is why i have decided to grandfather her into my own favourite literary tradition: shounen author)
but errrrrr jgy is also dead in this pov! what do i do with this? apart from have lxc suffer. what are the steps to compelling xiyao. how do i achieve. i'm sure someone has a manifesto if u've got this far and have it please give it to me so i can add it to the soup. thank u for coming to my tedtalk etc etc
honestly i'll probably also just design them some fucked astrological synastry. maybe divination will fix it!!!!***
*minor chance this comes up on jgy's The Library is Open routine at guanyin temple and i have forgotten
**sazz special: when ur childhood it too fucked consider it a mythology! depersonalize, baby!
***hi, hello, this also gives him Cursed Sexy Synastry with jin zixuan which is another objectively funny fic.
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control freak – ln4
lando hates a lot of things. not being in control is definitely one of them.
genre: smut
pairing: female reader x lando norris
warnings: smut 🤭 i dont remember what it's called? but lando gets tied up. he likes to be in control, so i guess dom!lando is kinda insinuated. it's a bit dirtyyy but there are also some soft elements bcs who would i be to not include those :)
requested?: yes! thank you for requesting 🤍 (requests are still open!)
author's note: this was supposed to be just a blurb but something happened lol. also, very much inspired by this ask and the just him talking about how he needs to be in control in that video. this thought has been living in my mind rent-free since that moment. hope u all enjoyyyy<3<3 (if this doesn’t work this time. idk what to do. anyways.)
f1 masterlist
18+ content below, minors dni!
–
"there we go..." you say, leaning back slightly and letting go of lando's wrist. "you alright?"
"my hands, yes. my ego, however..."
earlier this year, you and lando had agreed to buy one of those adult christmas calendars, one with a new toy or tool for the bedroom every day. so far, you'd gotten a blindfold, a massaging oil, and even a smaller vibrator. and today's present? a pair of sleek, white silk ribbons.
lando had immediately pulled the little strings out of the box, measuring them around your wrists. but you had shook your head, snatching them out of his hands and telling him it was his turn.
he had just cocked an eyebrow at you, assuming you were kidding. but the grin you had worn, one that told him that you were fully serious, had made him chuckle, rolling his eyes. no way, he'd told you, giving you a pat on the head before he leaned down against his pillow again. he had assumed this would be a lost cause for you, because there was no way he was letting you expose him to one of the things he hates.
lando hates a lot of things. number one: he hates not being in control, and he hates it so much.
the fact that he needs to be in control is very well-known in your relationship, and it applies to most situations. he needs to be the one driving, even if you're just going on a short trip to the supermarket; he needs to know who's invited to a dinner party so he can plan ahead; and of course, he feels a need for power in the bedroom.
but you are nothing if not persistent. lando is the very definition of stubborn, sure, but you would not give up on this one.
your boyfriend always thought you must be some kind of witch, because your effect on him is paranormal. the way you bat your eyes at him, your soft touch on his cheek, and your sweet kisses lingering on his lips – they could get him to agree to almost anything. even this, apparently.
since today was a friday, you had gone out for dinner and some drinks tonight before hurrying back home to try out your new present. lando was still a bit hesitant, but your lips pressed against his and your hips brushing his crotch as you sat on his lap on your bed made him give up yet again.
and that's how you find yourselves here, him already stripped out of everything except his boxers, with the sleek white ropes connecting him to the headboard. you twirl the fabric by his right wrist around your finger one final time, smiling at the little bows you've made. "you look so pretty right now," you hum, leaning down a little and tracing a finger along his jaw. "kinda wanna take a picture."
"do it."
you shake your head, not wanting to bring out your phone and possibly ruin the moment. you smile at the firmness in his voice, pressing a quick peck to his lips. "next time."
lando's chest vibrates with his chuckle. "oh, you think there will be a next time?"
"i know there will, because i'm in charge here."
the retort he was planning gets caught in his throat as your lips meet the side of his neck. he sighs at the feeling of your kisses traveling down to his chest, tongue coming out to lick the skin occasionally. he instinctively tries to grab your hips with his hands, momentarily forgetting about his restraints and letting out an annoyed groan when he's held back. you giggle against him when you hear the ropes snap against the headboard.
"already?" you ask, hands dragging up and down his beautifully tanned skin as your kisses trail even further, meeting the skin of his hipbones, giving both sides equal attention.
you can see how he clenches his fists from the corner of your eyes, knuckles already turning a little white. "i hate this. i really hate this," he mumbles.
"but you like me, don't you?" you counter, sitting back on your heels between his legs and letting your hands find the waistband of his boxers. "let me have my fun."
"great to know one of us is having fun, i guess." you take your time pulling down his underwear, enjoying every second of watching his impatience. when he's finally fully naked, his cock springs up to his stomach, a little precum leaking from him already.
"lando," you start, your thumb rubbing around the tip before spreading the precum along him. "don't you trust me?" you lower yourself down to press a kiss to his tip. "do you really think i won't make sure you enjoy this, too?"
his answer comes in the form of a shaky exhale, his eyes fluttering shut when he feels your tongue lick up a stripe along the side of his dick.
"i thought so."
your lips wrap around him, pushing yourself down his length before moving back up again. you're excruciatingly slow, wet lips sliding along his skin and only taking a little of him as your tongue swirls around him just once.
number two: lando hates being teased.
it's something he avoids at all costs, which you learned early in your relationship. he'll give you a stern look and push your hand away when you reach for his thigh during a company dinner; he'll grab your hips to hold you still when you intentionally grind onto him as you sit in his lap; and when you text him revealing pictures when he's away doing something important, he'll turn off his phone rather than let it get to him. it all comes back to his hatred of not being in control – he wants to be the one to tease you, not the other way around. so when you get a chance to tease him and he can't do anything about it, you take it.
speeding up your actions is not something you even consider, and now that lando's hands aren't in your hair to usher you, you take your time. you do, however, push him further into you, letting him hit the back of your throat before pulling entirely off him. when you sink down on him again, he buckles his hips: his way of trying to retake control. your hands find his sides, holding him down as you slide off him, leaning back to look at him as a grin spreads across your lips. "impatient, are we?"
his eyes are scrunched up, head thrown back to show off his thick neck. his muscular chest is heaving for air, already, and his hands are still hanging sloppily from the ropes. you love to see him like this. so weak, so helpless. it's not often that you get to take in this sight, so you savor every second of it.
when he feels the bed rock, lando's eyes shoot open. he watches you climb up from the bed, standing right next to it as you slowly let the sleeves of your dress fall down your shoulders. he does not enjoy the moment as much as he wishes he would, because all he can think of is how much he wishes he was the one sliding the dress down your body; how much he wishes he was the one unclasping your bra; how much he wishes it was his hands dragging your soaked panties to the floor.
you move to straddle his lap, your hips hovering over his as you let his tip nudge your entrance. when you finally descend on him, he bottoms you out so perfectly. you press your hands to his chest, leaning your weight on him as you feel yourself getting stretched out.
if lando thought you were done with the teasing, he was very wrong. you rise from him painfully slowly, before going down just as slowly. when your hips meet his again, you stop for yet another moment, rolling down on him.
number three: lando hates not being able to control the pace.
he's used to driving cars at 300 km/h, for god's sake, so this slow motion-pace you're going at is not ideal for him. he doesn't always need to thrust in and out of you like you only have a minute left to live but regulating the pace is, according to him, one of the perks of being the boyfriend. but not today.
you find a rhythm, bouncing on him like you are in no hurry whatsoever. your lover's moans are muffled and he's seemingly doing his best to not let anything slip out. he doesn't want you to know how much he likes this, despite not being in control.
"don't hold back, baby," you say, thumbs stroking his skin encouragingly. "you're allowed to feel good even when i'm in charge."
and when he finally lets go, the sounds he makes are like music to your ears. his hearty groans send a shiver down your spine and you can't help but pick up the pace a little, needing to hear more. you want to pull every sound and twitch out of him, and if that means going faster, it's a change you're willing to make.
you feel the shudder passing through his body when you clench around him. you know he's close when his heels dig into the mattress and he thrusts into you, trying to make up for lost time. you're almost there, too, and the way you feel all of him pump into you turns your brain into mush.
your nails dig into his chest when you reach your climax, likely leaving indents in his skin. you continue riding him, helping him chase his high, your pulsating insides helping draw it out instantly. when you feel the spurts shooting into you, you collapse against him. he's twitching inside of you, his chest jumping with his breaths, and your fingers reach to brush along the side of his neck to help him come down from his high.
"okay, i'll admit," he starts, taking deep breaths between every word. "that was so fucking hot."
a giggle escapes past your lips, and you prop your chin up on his chest to look up at his face. "i knew it would be." you brush back his curls, freeing his glossy forehead. "thank you for trusting me."
his face is adorned by a soft smile, and it replicates on yours. "are you okay?" he asks, always so caring, and he lets out a breath when you nod.
number four, the most important one: lando hates being unable to hold you.
he hates not being in control of your well-being; he hates not being able to ensure you're okay. he hates not cupping your face in his palms, stroking your cheeks, pulling his fingers through your locks. so, it would be an understatement to say that he was ecstatic when you pulled yourself off him, sat down on his side and started working on undoing the ropes.
his skin shows off a burning red color, and it hasn't occurred to you yet how much he actually must've been itching to touch you. usually, when he ties you up, your skin gets a bit irritated too, sure. but it's not often this bad. "let me get you a lotion for your wrists," you say.
you're practically off the bed already when lando grabs your hand, dragging you onto him again. "later." he pulls your back to his chest and nuzzles his face into your hair, pressing a peck to your scalp. "just wanna hold you right now."
you shake your head at his antics, but take both of his hands into yours. you hold them up to your lips, giving him a few kisses around both of his wrists. "maybe that's better?"
"perfect." his voice is low, arms snaking around your waist to tug you closer. "i think they're completely fine now."
"let me at least get you something in the morning?"
"mmm. shush and sleep now."
and there it was, an order – back in control already. just like he should be.
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