had to use the mean girls reference again

I’ll Never Forget You

          - Part II


Kai Parker x Reader
word count
 : 3 667
summary : continues the story from part I … 
*not my gif
_________________________________________

   “What are you thinking about ?“ wondered Kai, pulling her closer to him while both of them watched the night sky. Seven months spent together and sometimes he still wondered if maybe he is dreaming or something. He had never thought he’d see another person, let alone that this person would except him as he is, with all the good and the bad and they’d become friends. Well, more than friends in the past few hours.
   “Nothing.” she smiled, turning her head towards him.
   “That’s not a ‘nothing’ face.“ he smiled back. “Let me guess – you are thinking about that pancake tower I made you for breakfast ?”
Y/N shook her head. “No, though … How did you make 15 pancakes stand on top of each other with that maple syrup pouring down on them?”
Kai laughed. “Would you believe me if I told you – magic?” he winked at her, noticing how her eyes keep drifting towards his lips. “Wait … I know what you are thinking about. You are thinking about our fight earlier, aren’t you ? You know, when you couldn’t stop laughing at me for getting cupcake frosting on my nose and I kissed you to get you to stop and then you challenged me to a race through town and you chea–”
   “– you refused to except that a girl beat you ?“ she said amused, almost rolling on top of him. “And you got upset about it and ended up chasing me around the house –”
   “Hey, I didn’t lose. You cheated !“ he rolled on top of her, his knee resting between her legs. “And you refused to admit it. Admit it. You cheated.”
   “I did no such thing.“ she turned her head away.
   “Yes, you did !” he tried to meet her eyes, a smile hiding in the corners of his mouth.
   “No, I didn’t Malach–“ she started to say and his lips crashed against hers, drowning her in a demanding kiss. “Are you going to do that every time I call you Malacha–” his lips crashed against hers again and he pinned her wrists on either side of her head to keep her from trying to push him off. Only she did no such thing.
   “Don’t tell me you don’t like it. I can always go back to siphoning you –“
   “No, no. I um – I definitely like it.” she smiled, pushing him off her before getting up. “Catch me if you can. Which you can’t … cuz I beat you –”
Kai laughed under his breath, glancing at the ground for a second then at her running towards the house.“Oh you are so on, little witch.“


_________________________________________

There hadn’t been many people in Kai’s life he cared about and losing the only one he ever felt anything for hurt like hell. The first couple of days after Y/N was dragged away kicking and screaming, without even given the chance to say goodbye, were the worst. He missed her more than he ever thought possible. Every morning when he opened his eyes watching the sunshine seep through the windows in her room, it felt as if somehow he had time travelled back to May 10th, the actual May 10th when his father had banished him in the Prison World for all eternity. Losing her felt just as painful and if it wasn’t for her diary remaining in his possession, he probably would’ve convinced himself she hadn’t been real. That everything they did during those eleven months they spent together had been a hallucination brought upon being left alone. Only that wasn’t the case and Y/N had been real. All those memories were real. The pain was real and contrary to what he had expected, it didn’t deminish as the days went by. How can it ? There had been someone in his life, someone he had cared about more than he had ever thought possible and he had lost her… and there was no way to change that.
He didn’t want to break his last promise to her about not reading her diary again, and at first he only looked through the sketches. However a couple weeks later his entire self craved her way of thinking and he read her diary cover to cover, almost able to hear her voice as he did. Up until this point he had never understood sentimental attachments because it always hurt so much when you lose the person/thing but… Keeping her diary, going through it over and over again until he knew all the words written in there by heart and even after, made him feel less alone. Kind of like she was there with him.
Almost half a year since Y/N had been taken from him, he left his childhood in Portland leaving her a note just in case she found her way there. Kai knew she’d try everything she could to get back to him and get him out. Back in their first few months together he had shown her how to use a pager and he just couldn’t bear the thought she’d come back or they’d send her there again and she’d end up all alone. Kai headed to Virginia with his car, taking the long route there hoping maybe she’d catch up with him somewhere. But she never did.
Nearly half a decade later he got not one but two unexpected visitors and there it was again, that spark of hope that hadn’t been snuffed out completely, that maybe it was Y/N or someone who knew her. Kai spent four months watching the new comers, listening in on their conversations and found out his new cellmates were a vampire and a Bennett witch. He had the Ascendant, a Bennett and his hopes for getting out grew with each day. After crafting his plan carefully he managed to get Bonnie’s magic back and not too long after he found his way out of 1994.
_________________________________________

When he got back to the real world, first thing he did was go looking for his friend at her house. Kai’s excitement only grew as he made his way up the stairs to her room, remembering the way as if he had been in her home a thousand times when in reality in had been just a few visits back in 1994. There was no one in the house at the time and he figured he’d wait for her in her bedroom until she comes back. A part of him hoped that maybe Y/N was in the house after all, laying in bed with her headphones on listening to music and he could almost see her eyes lit up and her smile when he showed up at the door. He could almost see her jump off her bed and into his arms, holding him tighter than ever as if her life depended on it. However, nothing could’ve prepared him for what he found inside when he pushed the door open. Which was absolutely nothing but an dusty old dresser in one of the corners. His heart sank at the sight before him. What had happened ? Had they sent her away again or –
   “Who are you ?”
Kai turned around, coming face to face with a young boy around maybe 13 or 15 years old. He had the same hair and eyes as Y/N which meant that was her little brother.
   “Hey.” smiled Kai nervously, putting his hands in his pockets. “D-don’t scream. I am just looking for your sister. Y/N ? Is she here ?” he scratched his forehead. “I mean, her room is empty. D-did um did she move or something ?”
   “Y/N is in the cemetery.” said the boy, glancing at his shoes for a second. “Are you her boyfriend from 1994 ?”
   “B-boyfriend ?” asked Kai, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth realising Y/N had talked about him. “I um… I don’t know if that’s the word. We kissed a lot and did things before she um left… I am really bad at this ‘relationship’ stuff.” he laughed nervously.
Her brother smiled and Kai couldn’t help but notice how Y/N’s and her brother’s smiles were almost the same and for the first time in almost five years he felt a spark of happiness inside him. But it wasn’t just the smile. Kai’s mind was stuck at the word ‘boyfriend’. They had had their moments, here and there and he had read in her diary, after she had left, that she felt something for him. He still had trouble believing his girl had used words as ‘falling in love’ referring to him.
   “I am Thomas, her little brother.”
   “Kai.” he said shaking the boys hand. “Parker. I guess you know that. Can I wait for her here ? When is she coming back?”
   “No.” said her brother glancing at his shoes again. “I mean, she is not coming back. There was an car accident about six months ago.”
   “What ?” asked Kai, feeling his heart sink all the way to his shoes and possibly through the floor to the living room downstairs. “What do you mean ? Tell me.”
   “My sister… she talked a lot about you. She never stopped looking for the Ascendant, wanting to get you out, trying spell after spell and about a year ago she almost succeeded but um … your father found out and tried to take her memories of you away. Only it didn’t work because she was ten steps ahead of him.” said Thomas.
   “Smart girl.” said Kai with a small smile, dreading her brother’s next words. “My father he um… didn’t have anything to do with her death did he ?”
   “No. Not that I know of. Y/N was coming home from college to spend the weekend here. There was a storm, probably the worst one this town has ever seen. They said her car had slid down the road, hitting a car coming straight at her from the other end of the road.”
Kai swallowed hard. Five years and when he comes back he loses her all over again and this time forever. There was something weird happening in his eyes and felt them start to water a little and he fought back to push away all those emotions, refusing to believe she was gone. How can she be gone ?
   “A few days before she left for college, I walked in on her writing a letter … addressed to you. I guess she knew you’d find your way out.” said Thomas, walking past Kai into Y/N’s room. Her brother opened one of the drawers, revealing a double bottom and pulled out an envelope and a picture. Kai took them in his hands recognising her handwriting instantly. Malachai said the envelope. Weirdly he didn’t feel mad about it, because he now knew she liked his full name and that’s why she had kept using it.
   “She printed it out.” smiled Kai, thinking back of the memory. This had been around the fifth month after she arrived there, on her birthday. He had prepared a small picnic and they had been laying on the grass in the front yard when she had pulled out her camera and had suggested they take a ‘selfie’.
   “Y/N called me when the accident happened and asked me to tell you, if you ever got out and come looking for her and she is not around –” started her brother “– she never forgot about you. Not for one moment.”
   “I never forgot about her for a moment either.” said Kai quietly.
   “My sister carried this picture with her everywhere. She always said that was the best birthday she has ever had.” smiled her brother. “They um … they found her holding it when she –”
Kai swallowed hard. Last thing his best friend had been thinking about had been this moment. At least it had been a happy memory and… he had been in her thoughts when she died –

   “Come on, let’s take a picture.” she said enthusiastically.
   “No.” he covered his face. “Why do you need a picture ? We are together all the time –”
   “As a keep sake.” she said as if it’s obvious. “Please ? It’s my birthday after all. You can’t say ‘no’ to the birthday girl…”
Kai glanced at her. Y/N was giving him her best puppy dog eyes and a smile hid in the corners of her mouth. There was no way he’d ever say ‘no’ to her. Not now, not ever.
   “Give me the camera.” he grinned at her, taking the camera from her hands. “Alright but we do it properly right ?”
Kai blew his cheeks and glanced at her. Y/N covered her face and burst into laughter.
   “You look like Flounder.” she teased, laying on the grass next to him. “You are such a goof ball. On three … one, two –” and three she kissed his cheek and he snapped the picture.
   “I blinked.“ said Kai.
   “No, no … you didn’t, see ?” she said taking the camera from his hands, her fingertips brushing against his. Y/N tapped the screen and zoomed in on his face, mouthing a ‘wow’. “This is my new favourite picture. I will carry it with me, always.”


Thomas took a step towards Kai, studying his face. He had heard the stories from his parents and had heard the stories from his sister and now knew for sure his parents’ story had more than a couple of things wrong.
    “Can I um … have a moment alone with her?” asked Kai, his fingertips tracing the edges of the envelope.
   “Yeah.” said her little brother, patting him on the back. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
   “T-Thanks.” said Kai, opening the envelope. He unfolded the letter, trailing his fingers on the handwritten words with a small smile on his face and slid down the wall, sitting on the floor in her room.

“Hey there stranger,
I guess my letter got to you before I had the chance. You must know, if I was there in this instant you’d be suffocated with hugs and kisses. Hahah. I am happy you got out of 1994 and even though I am no longer around, just know I never forgot you. Or any of our memories. There hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought about you or missed you. I wish we had never fought that day. I wish I had opened the door sooner. Maybe if I had, we wouldn’t have gotten separated.
As I am sure by now my little brother had told that I tried going back for you and getting you out. I tried, but your father found out. (P.S. What a dick ! Your father, I mean…) How ? That’s still a mystery to me and things didn’t end very well. I’d say I am sorry for stabbing him that day… but I am really not. ;)”

Kai laughed, wiping a tear from his cheek. Crying. He hated crying, though weirdly in that moment he didn’t really mind. “Damn Y/N !“

”You are probably wondering what happened that day. Honestly, it’s still a bit of a blur for me too. I was just opening the door when they appeared from thin air and someone grabbed me and dragged me towards the window. I wanted to say goodbye. I really did and I tried but they covered my mouth with a piece of cloth and drugged me. Next time I woke up, I was back in my room.
My parents tried to convince me it had been a dream, but I knew better. I could
never forget you and luckily for me, they hadn’t gone through my backpack and hadn’t found my camera. For sure they would’ve deleted all our pictures and I wouldn’t have been able to get over losing the last piece of you I had. By the way, that small black thing in here is a memory card with all of them.
You and I… we
will meet again. I have to believe this because other ways, going through the day is unbearable. I haven’t stopped trying to get you out and I think I got a lead and I really hope I reach you before this letter does.”

Kai reached inside the envelope and found a small black memory card. A small smile showed on his face realising he was getting a piece of her back, that he’d see her again even if it’s just still moments on a digital screen. He rested his head against the wall and was just about to continue reading when Thomas showed up and sat on the floor next to him.
   “My parents will freak out if they learn I know where their alcohol stash is, but I think you might need that.” he passed him a bottle with bourbon.
   “No. No, thank you.” said Kai folding the letter. “I um … Will you take me to her grave? I want to go there. To say goodbye. I never got to say goodbye in 1994.”

_________________________________________

They walked there, stopping on the way by a small flower shop where Kai got her her favourite flowers. Neither of them talked much, though Kai had questions about Y/N – where she had gone to college, what she was studying and most importantly how her parents had treated her after they got her back. Turned out Y/N had enrolled at Whitmore as an art major. Her parents had continued with her isolation because they had been afraid she’d corrupt her little brother and turn him into a monster. Not that this had stopped the siblings from spending time together and they had a lot of secrets kept from their parents and everyone else.
Almost a half hour later, they arrived at the cemetery and Thomas left him alone by Y/N’s grave just as Kai requested. He knelt down, left the flowers next to her headstone and sat before it cross-legged, running his fingers on her name engraved in the stone.
   “Never thought the next time I see you or talk to you again, you’d be two feet underground.” he sighed. “That’s kind of depressing and … kind of weird, isn’t ? Talking to a solid rock with an engraved name. You are making me break all my rules. I never care, I never feel … this pain. You broke me. Not really broke me but… I don’t know. I miss you and I truly am sorry for what happened that day. I wish I could go back and change it. Our last memory together was a fight … through a door. How sad is that ?” he pulled our her diary from his jacket pocket, opening the cover where now laid safely tucked away her last letter to him. “Until I met you, there had never been anyone important in my life and… losing you not once but twice. It’s just too hard, you know.” he swallowed hard, feeling his eyes water a little. “I never forgot about you either. God, I wish I had known about all this stuff you wrote about me sooner. Feelings are hard and I would’ve been a terrible boyfriend, but for you, I would’ve tried. I really would’ve.”
   “You wouldn’t have been a terrible boyfriend.” said a familiar female voice and a moment later Kai felt someone’s hand on his shoulder. He turned around and his eyes widened so much, they almost fell out of their sockets. There she was. It couldn’t be her, it was. Y/N looked different, older but it was definitely her. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and opened them again, seeing her still there less than half a metre away smiling, wearing black jeans, a white top and a black leather jacket with black converses.
   “Yep. I have most definitely gone mad.” he muttered.
   “No.” she smiled, kneeling on the ground next to him. “No, you haven’t. It’s me. I am really here.”
   “You are dead.”
   “Yes… and no.” she smiled and ran her fingers through her hair. “I am not a ghost, stop looking at me as if I am one.” she teased and Kai laughed. “I know my brother told you about my encounter with your dad. Anyways, ever since that accident, I made sure there was always vampire blood in my system and I met this girl at Whitmore – Elena Gilbert, who agreed to help me. I met your sister too by the way and your other brother, Olivia and Lucas –”
   “Y/N ?” he pinched her cheek. Y/N mouthed and ‘ouch’ and the next second Kai surprised himself by tackling her on the ground with a bear hug. “I thought I lost you forever. How – What ?? Does your family know ??”
   “Of course they know.” she said as if it’s obvious. “I became the family shame after I turned and my parents officially disowned me. My brother is forbidden from having any contact with me but … we get around.”
   “I can’t believe I am seeing you again.” he smiled widely. “Y/N, I am so sorry about that day –”
   “I know.” she smiled, cupping his face. “I heard you and thank you for the flowers. “she pressed her lips onto his, kissing him gently. “You know, I have never seen you this … distracted. I sneaked up on you and that was hardly possible in the Prison World.”
Kai laughed, drowning her in a kiss before resting his forehead on hers. “Wait, who is buried here then?”
   “No one.” she sighed. “My parents come to visit once a month, which honestly is very surprising considering everything and sometimes I lurke behind that giant angel tombstone over there, watching. However every time they walk past me, it’s like I am wearing Harry’s cloak of invisibility.”
   “Who?” he asked confused. “Who’s Harry ?”
Y/N laughed. “Right, we didn’t get to the Harry Potter books back in 1994. Come on, lets go somewhere, get coffee. I’ll tell you about Harry and you can tell me everything you’ve been up to. Starting with …. how you got out.”
_________________________________________

MASTERLIST - SMUT
MASTERLIST - FLUFF

anonymous asked:

What happened during the MC with sasshimayuyukirin and pi chan?

You mean that piece of art there? That masterpiece? Which, by the way, is only one of them ‘cause later there’s another with Meru which is also super fun but, yeah. 

It all starts ‘cause Yuki says she thinks that Pii-chan is super quiet, like she’s the only one who ain’t talking. So she asks for her name, they all go “Pii-chan” and Yuki is like “oh right, Komada, right?” but then Sashihara goes, “No, listen, Pii-chan is not her nickname, we call her that to censure the dirty-sexual things she says, ‘cause she’s super dirty”. And so everything goes nuts. And Mayu is like “eh~ so you’re a dirty one, huh?” Then it’s also funny ‘cause before that, they had Macharin say some stuff in Japanese while making a “no no” move with her finger, don’t know if you saw that? And those Japanese things were things Sashihara had taught her. So Rikopii then goes “You guys, stop that, or Macharin is gonna learn those stuff too, and she can’t learn those stuff! Those are dirty stuff!” Then, I don’t know the heck she says that, but apparently it’s a nickname she got from this “piro-piro-pii” thing apparently she used to do? Which totally sounds dirty, and then again Sashihara goes: “oy, Macharin, piro-piro-pii she says. Learn that and do that, too!” (again, referring to the thing she did before, saying certain Japanese words Sashihara had taught her and making the “no no no” move with her hand), and the other girls go like “NO DON’T DO THAT OMG!!” Then Pii-chan goes, “I’ve got something I’d like to teach to Macharin. I’d like to teach her some Miyazaki dialect words that we Miyazaki people use frequently. For example, to say “little (chicchai)” we say “chinkomee” (”chinko” means also “penis”)” and here everyone goes again: “Oy! Hey! What did ya just say! Come on!” and Sashihara goes: “Just don’t give us one more reason to call you that! – Mou, Macharin, what do ya think? It’s a “what the hell” right? Come on, do it.” and Macharin goes “what the hell” doing that “no no” move with her hand, and Sashihara: “That’s right. Good job. – You’ve gotta stop it, Pii-chan. You’re our shame. You’re HKT’s shame.”

And then the thing becomes even more funny to the very end, because after that, they’ve gotta perform “keibetsu shiteita aijou” and Rikopi goes: “OK guys, let’s go back to the songs–” and Sashihara goes: “Oh god, we’re gonna go back performing THIS SONG after all this?!” and Mayu: “Yeah, from “the shame of HKT” to this song. A song about shame indeed.” and Yuki goes: “this song is not about shame!” and Mayu: “We should sing a song about shame. I wanna do that”. But then the lights go off, and everyone gets silent, and then Mayu speaks up with a super serious face and tone and goes: “Well then, ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy: “keibetsu shiteita aijou”” and everyone burst out laughing one more time. 

nekomimiarchives  asked:

*sighs longingly* Y'all remember when Azazel was a right asshole that deserved approximately half of the shit he had to deal with? I miss Azazel and his assholery but holy damn this is some serious character development from Genesis when he has gleefully fucking up people's lives

Hello there :D

Sorry this took me too long to answer. On one hand, I really want to rally behind azazel protection squad, but on the other hand… as you said, he was an asshole who deserved half the things he has to deal with. Then there’s also the part of me that likes to see my fav characters suffer and pushed to the limit bcs that’s usually where they shine, where they show their true colors, where they show what they’re really capable of. SORRY.

This is really a dilemma bcs while I really want Azazel to win (and see if he gonna go back to his old smug attitude), I kinda want to see him lose more bcs if he keeps losing like that, Lucifer would have no choice but to come save him again right? :D or maybe Mugaro would go berserk for Azazel’s sake, I’m not picky :p

Speaking of character development tho.

behold that mean and smug af smirk.

I see ppl commenting how he fastly improved from S1 bcs now he’s kinda a dark hero for the demon side, and how he’s more, er, empathetic toward others now?

I actually disagree on this.

Keep reading

big bang theory sentence starters.

“ i don’t like bugs, okay. they freak me out. ”
“ for future reference, if i want to watch mean girls, i’ll just stream it on netflix. ”
“ i cry because others are stupid, and that makes me sad. ”
“ for the record, it could kill us to meet new people. ”
“ i’m not insane, my mother had me tested. ”
“ i didn’t have any friends to help me through it. you do. ”
“ sweetheart, your little friend is concerned about you. ”
“ i always say that when one door closes, another one opens. ”
“ you know, you two make a cute couple. ”
“ you know, i’ve been thinking about time travel again. ”
“ well that looks awful fancy, what is that? ”
“ honey, that ain’t gonna work, but you keep trying. ”
“ why do people cry at weddings? ”
“ did that conversation include the phrase “your genitals are a joy to behold”? “
” if you want to go off the grid, you have to move out of your mother’s house. “
” i can’t believe you can turn ordinary skin cells into functioning brain cells. “
” we lock that door, lower our underpants a little, and make a baby. “
” well, i can’t eat like a ten-year-old all the time. “
” i don’t know who you are, so please exit the premises. “
” i like all kinds of music, but my favorite genre is free. “
” well, it could be fun to try a little acoustic thing. “
” i don’t know how to help you. you know, feelings are a part of life. “
” you’re trying to get attention so we’ll feel bad for you. “
” as the kids are saying today, “talk to the hand.” “
” cute? it’s not cute. cute is children dressed as vegetables. “
” okay, look, we don’t need to rush into anything. all right? ”
“ my name is darth vader. i am your father. ”
“ eh, the internet’s so negative. i try to avoid it. ”
“ i guess i assumed that i would eventually date other people. ”
“ okay, don’t be offended, but what went wrong with you? ”
“ okay. anyway, um, it’s nice to see you. you look good. ”
“ you leave me with no choice but to put a stop to it. ”
“ yeah, and be warned. i’m going to touch you all over. ”
“ had me at flag, lost me at football. ”
“  i told you things would change if you plucked your eyebrows! ”
“ i wonder how many licks it would take to get to the center of me. ”
“ well, i’m not sure i have a dominant leg. ”
“ if you’re cranky and retaining water, i have a theory. ”
“ not that it’s any of your business, but she/he broke up with me. ”
“ i get that you don’t like it. but it’s not really up to you. ”

The Anatomy of Rage

This post is going to be a mess, because I’m just …untidily angry right now. It began with a series of tweets I made today about my ever-broken Datsun. The mechanic had told my husband that he was “working on that Datsun just as fast as I can because now that I’ve met her I can’t wait to get that little girl behind the wheel again.“

Little girl.

As I tweeted that I was 33 and had earned each of those years and thus preferred to be referred to as "Danger Smog-Dragon” or “Rage-Mistress” or “Ephemeral Time Lady” or “Maggie Stiefvater, #1 NYT Bestselling Author of the Raven Cycle,” a well-meaning fellow replied that perhaps I should “use [my] words, politely but firmly, to his face…” He further observed that he’d told his wife that “you know, Honey, unless you’re willing to SAY THAT to (those people), NOTHING is going to change”.

(note: please do not go search for this fellow on twitter to rage at him; this is not about him. He is set dressing, made more appropriate to the conversation at hand by the fact that he probably is a perfectly nice guy who really didn’t mean disrespect).

I told TwitterMan that I was tired of have to use my words.It’s been 33 years of using my words. Why is it my job to continuously ask to be treated equivalent to a male customer? Why is that when I arrive at a shop, I’m reminded that I have to push the clutch in if I want to start my own car? It’s 2015. Why is it still all sexism all the time?

I discovered that I was actually furious. I thought I was over being furious, but it turns out, the rage was merely dormant. I’m furious that it’s been over a decade and nothing has changed. I’m furious that sexism was everywhere in the world of college-Maggie and it remains thus, even if I out-learn, out-earn, out-drive, and out-perform my male counterparts. At the end of the day, I’m still “little girl.”

Possibly this is the point where some people are asking why this tiny gesture of all gestures should be the one to break me.

Here is the anatomy of my rage.

Step one: It is 1999 or 2000. I am 16. I go to college. A professor tells me I’m pretty. A married man in the bagpipe band I’m in tells me he just can’t control himself around me: he stays up nights thinking of my skin. Another man tells me he can’t believe that ‘a little bitch’ like me got into the competition group after a year of playing when he’s been at it for twenty years. After becoming friends with a professor’s daughter, I’m at her house sleeping on the couch, and I wake up to find the professor running his hand from my ankle bone to my thigh. I pretend I’m still asleep. I’m 17. “If something happened to my wife,” he tells me later, “I could be with you.” At my next visit to her house, I see the wife’s left a book on the kitchen table: how to rekindle your husband’s love.

Step two: It’s 2008. I finally buy the car of my dreams, a 1973 Camaro, and make it my official business vehicle. The first time I take it to put gas in it, a man tells me, “if I were your husband, I wouldn’t want you out driving my car.” I tell him, “if you were my husband, I’d be a widow.” The car requires a lot of gas. I get cat-called every other time I’m at a gas station. Once, I go into the gas station to get a drink, and when I come out, a bunch of guys have parked me in. They want, they say, to have a word with me, little lady. We play automotive chicken which I win because I would rather smash the back of my ’73 Camaro into their IROC than have to stab one of them with the knife on my keychain.

Step three: It’s 2011. I’m on tour in a European country, on my own, escorted only by my foreign publisher. I am at a business dinner, and say I’m going to my room. My female editor embraces me; my male publicist embraces me and then puts his tongue in my ear, covering it with his hand so that the crowd of twenty professionals does not see. My choices are to say nothing to avoid making a scene in front of my publisher’s people, or to say FUCK YOU. I apparently was never offered the choice of not having a tongue in my ear.

Step four: It’s 2012. I buy a race car. Well, a rally car. Someone asks my male co-driver if I’m good in bed. Someone asks me if I got sponsorship because someone was ‘trying to check the woman box.’ People ask me if I drive like a girl. Yeah, I do, actually. Let’s play a game called: who’s faster off the start?

Step five: It’s 2014. I’m driving my Camaro cross-country on book tour. It breaks down a lot. I’m under the hood and a pick up truck stops beside me. “Hey baby,” asks the driver, “do you need any help?” “Yeah,” I reply, “do you have a 5/8 wrench?” He did not.

Step six: It’s 2015. It’s sixteen years after I learned that I was a thing to be touched and kissed and hooted at unless I took it upon myself to say no, and no again, and no some more, and no no no. My friend Tessa Gratton points out that a male author used casually sexist language in a brief interview. She is dragged through the muck for pointing out how deeply-rooted our systemic sexism is. The publishing industry rises to the defense of the male author as if he has been deeply wronged. I tweet that the language was indeed sexist, though I didn’t think it was useful to condemn said male author. A male editor emails me privately to ask me if maybe I wasn’t being a little problematic by engaging in the discussion?

Step seven. Still 2015. Someone very close to me confesses that her college boyfriend keeps trying to push her past kissing, and she doesn’t want to. I tell her to set boundaries, and leave him if he doesn’t. A month passes. This week I find out she just had sex for the first time after he urged her to have several glasses of wine. She doesn’t drink. She was crying. She says, “I didn’t say no, though.”

It’s been sixteen damn years. I’m tired of having to say no. I’m tired of the media telling me that it’s mouth breathing bros and rednecks perpetuating the sexism. No: I can tell you that the most insidious form is the nice guy. Who is a nice guy, don’t get me wrong. I carry my own prejudices that I work through, and I don’t believe in demonizing people who aren’t perfect yet — none of us are. But the nice guy who says something sexist gets away with it. The nice guy who says something sexist sounds right and reasonable. The nice guy’s not helping, though. It’s been sixteen years, and the nice guys are nice, but we’re still things to be acquired. We are still creatures to be asked on dates. We are still saying no, still shouting NO, still having to always again and again say “no, please treat me with respect.”

I was just invited to a car show; the well-meaning guy who asked wanted me to bring my souped up Mitsubishi. I clicked on the event page. It’s catered by Hooters. I’m not going. Yeah, it’s a little thing, but I have a lifetime of them. I’m taking my toys and going home.

“I can’t wait to get that little girl behind the wheel again.“

Feminism and other marginalizations.

While we’re on the topic of men calling themselves feminist, I personally don’t mind. I know a lot of men who are survivors and activists who are fighting just as hard as we are to an end to the oppressive misogyny and toxic masculinity that plauges our society.

But I also respect women who do have a problem with men calling themselves feminists instead of feminist allies, because of the history that we have of men Whedoning us by taking over our spaces and declaring themselves the True Feminists, while trying to change the definition to be more focused on them.

I think it’s important that women have safe spaces, but I also think it’s important that feminism be the overarching umbrella community it must be in order to properly engage with oppression. 
The main problems with many branches of old and new feminism is that they have failed to be inclusive enough. From the first suffragettes (and current White Feminists) ignoring the plight of WOC and disabled women, to Swerfs and Terfs actively harming and rejecting some of the most vulnerable women in our society.

I want feminism to be the home that we need. That all sufferers under the patriarchy can turn to and be accepted and safe. I don’t want to reject Feminism as a label because it has flaws, I want to fix them. Because I honestly believe that we can be better.

I have thought about distancing myself, to find another label, to find another word to identify how important it is to me that our fight is inclusive, but egalitarians and equalists are ignorant of the actual factors involved in oppression, being ‘colour blind’ and acting like putting band aids of ‘everybody is equal now’ on ancient gaping wounds will stop them from bleeding. 


And when it comes down to it, my designation as ‘female’ (even though I identify as void of gender) affects all of the other aspects of me that I am marginalised for too. It touches everything. It magnifies everything. So feminism for me, is the right place.

People talk about intersectionality without truly understanding what it means, it is living with comorbid oppression. For me it is not that I experience misogyny plus ableism, with all the problems of misogyny added to all the problems of ableism. It is not an addition, its a multiplication.
People think of experiencing these two as experiencing them separately at the same time, like having two bricks stacked on top of each other. But in reality they combine to be both AND something completely new, like a chemical reaction, the overflows and smokes in a way that neither do on their own.

My experiences as someone designated ‘woman’ affect my experiences as a disabled person, as a mentally ill person, as a chronically ill person and as a queer person. 

Ableism means that I am infantilised, ignored, treated like a curse or a monster, refused accessabiluty, and the victim of abuse by the medical community.
But being a disabled woman means that I’m also more likely to be sexually assaulted than non-disabled women, or disabled men (who are also more likely to be sexually assaulted than non disabled men) .

It means that it’s harder for me to get a diagnosis, i’m more often misdiagnosed, under treated, under medicated, my symptoms ignored, my pain minimised, and medical professionals frequently taking my physical appearance as more of a priority than my physical or mental health - which means that I’ve had doctors try and take me off life-saving medications because I have put on weight, or refuse me medications because it will ruin my skin.
I’ve had surgeons avoid using the best avaliable procedure in preference for one that will be ‘prettier’ but less functional; which has directly resulted in my bone tumors growing back in under 10 years, meaning I’m at more risk of cancer and need the exact same surgical procedure again. Because he didn’t want to give a girl bigger scars and bigger hands.

I’ve had doctors refuse to listen to me begging for references to the specialists I need, and insisting that my only problem is being slightly overweight. I’ve had doctors ignore dangerous warning signs as ‘period emotions’, try to force invasive gynocological procedures on me without my consent, and refuse vital medication because it might interfere with me falling pregnant in the future (which i don’t want to do).

Illnesses and disabilities affecting mostly women are underfunded and under researched, studies have proven that doctors and medical staff will interupt and speak over female patients significantly more than men and listen less to the patients own preferences for medical procedures when they are female.  

So being chronically ill and disabled as someone who the medical community identifies as female, means that I experience not only the ableism and the misogyny, but the specific evil spawn of them combined. 

When you add my asexuality into the mix, it means that among other things, my disability negates my sexuality (it must be your medication, infantilisation + desexualisation of disabled people etc) my mental illness negates my choice in the matter (well if she’s mentally ill does she really know she doesn’t want sex? Just do it anyway) , and because the doctors see me as a girl, it becomes the only damn ‘symptom’ they’re interested in curing.


Feminists and the people I’ve met via feminism are the only people I’ve felt actually cared to listen to how disability has affected my experiences with misogyny. And if I’m being honest, they’re the only non-disabled people I’ve met who care about ableism..

 So I don’t want to restrict who can access these safe spaces from the shitstorm that is being marginalised, but I still think it’s very important that within any safe space, the people who hold privilege recognize that they can’t speak over those who are oppressed. Which includes those men who would seek shelter under feminism. When it comes to misogyny, that’s not your time to speak, it’s your time to listen.

So I kind of feel like Feminist Allies should be people who don’t need feminism, but still want to fight next to those of us who do.