#i think about “you might feel that urge inside you. to sexually procreate” at least once a day

[justarandombrit]

I love how Virginity Rocks is implied to be entirely diegetic. Like, it has a title card. Crediting it to Camp Idontwannabang Records. Boy Jerry and Girl Jeri just.. Do this.

#honestly unironically one of nmt's best songs lmao #i think about “you might feel that urge inside you. to sexually procreate” at least once a day #nightmare time spoilers #nightmare time season 2 #starkid nightmare time #nightmare time starkid #nightmare time 2 #nightmare time #virginity rocks #abstinence camp #boy jerry #girl jeri

[capondi]

Touch

In which I have no talent for titles or summaries. Our dumb virgins touch themselves and each other. Post TLJ.

Rating: E Tags: Angst, Pining, Mutual Masturbation, A slower burn than intended, but mostly PWP

She’d long since given up feeling guilty about this. On Jakku it had become a nearly nightly task when sleep had failed to claim her, or when the aches and pains of her day’s labor needed relieving. 

It hadn’t even felt sexual, at first. She was perhaps thirteen when she first found out that it felt good, her mind going blissfully blank as she took care of herself. Some time later, through the windblown flaps of the brothel tent, she curiously looked too long and saw it: A dark haired human woman, fully naked, rubbing herself down there as her eyes fluttered closed. A man had leaned into view, lowering her body with his body, and Rey had fled, the image burning bright in her mind. She had only known about sex in the most abstract of terms, and hadn’t before connected her harmless pasttime with the subject of procreation. She abstained for a while after that, long enough to feel the ache and the urge to do so again - and she had, under the confusing notion of a shame she couldn’t quite identify.

She didn’t have much to work with, so she thought of a man. Perhaps the man from that illuminating night. She hadn’t seen his face, so her imaginary partner was faceless also, nearly formless, his ministrations as vague as her own knowledge. In time she began to think of certain men in particular, smugglers and scrap salesmen, usually. Fairer than desert tramps and better fed, healthy muscles bared as they hauled crates on and off their ships. She rarely saw the same man twice, so these were safer fantasies to indulge in. Her ears became more attuned to the sexual banter shared between men and sometimes women at Niima outpost, her mind working to puzzle out their meaning. She never liked being in the dark. She could teach herself about this as she had done everything else.

Deciding that it was a complicated, but at least generally accepted topic, she returned to enjoying herself freely. 

When the thought of Ben’s hands replacing her own appeared spontaneously, an electric thrill shot through her, easily doubling the pleasure of the previous overused fantasy. She pulled her hand away immediately, flooded by guilt and confusion. This had been a few days after the battle of Crait, when the immediate concerns of the Resistance had been seen to, and she faced her first full night of sleep since Ach-to. She needed the relief, she decided. She hadn’t planned on thinking about him.

Oh, but she had before, hadn’t she?

First as a fear, bound to a chair on Starkiller base. Later, after she saw his future - their future - as allies, she had wondered if they would become more than that. He was attractive, she’d give him that. Her heart yearned for the compassion and belonging they could give each other. They had come so close to it. She’d looked at his lips, and caught him looking at hers. How did you know if someone wanted to kiss you? How did you know if you wanted it yourself?

She kept replaying their final argument, trying to understand just what he had meant, how she had gotten it so wrong. She didn’t believe he was past saving, but she was afraid it was out of her hands. How could she help him, if he didn’t want to help himself? Not by doing this, her mind responded. She rolled over, and tried to sleep.

---

Fresh air. She’d forgotten what fresh air smelled like, that it could have a flavor not of human sweat and fuel and singed electrical parts. It smelled faintly like vinegar, from whatever was sending billowing steam out of the hot spring over the hill, but to her it was as sweet as anything.

The planet had no real civilization, it didn’t even have a name. But it had a fueling station and supplies of questionable origin, and it was far enough away from any First Order regiment that even if they were ratted out they’d be jumping through hyperspace again before anyone arrived. They didn’t have many options.

Rey decided to get some distance from the people she had been caged in with for over two weeks. Everyone not working on refuelling and supplying the Falcon had a similar idea, scattered hither and yon over the blue hills, only as close as necessary to make an emergency evacuation. She had to walk for several minutes to put everyone out of sight. She never thought she’d want to be alone again, but the need was still hidden in her bones apparently, like a nutritional requirement of her soul. 

She found a stand of large black stones, reminiscent of the rocky coast on Ach-to. One side was covered in a thick coat of red moss, looking like rubber coils. Force instinct told her the growth was harmless to her, and she ran her fingers through it, laughing softly at the novelty of it. She would never get tired of these new experiences, of touching something other than metal and sand.

Clamoring up a boulder a little taller than herself, she sat cross-legged, palms up on her thighs. She closed her eyes and began to see through the force instead. It was like adjusting your eyes to darkness, details fading in: the bright bustle of light from the Resistance soldiers. The warm push of the living planet. The cool pull of death, bringing the life into balance.

A ripple, then, a warping of the natural energies here. Her hair rising as her skin pimpled, and a feeling akin to the moment before a lightning strike. Suddenly, he was there.

He appeared perched on an adjacent stone, his legs hanging off, but where was he really? On the edge of his bed, perhaps. He was dressed at least, but his gloves were off, the top of his collar slightly open. He was staring at her with a neutral expression, his chest expanding with steady breaths. So was she, even though the sudden thundering of her heart demanded more oxygen, she fought for composure. Was his heart racing too?

“Are you going to say anything?” She asked, relieved her voice was steady. She didn’t think it would continue to be if she held his gaze, so she looked out to the horizon instead.

“Is there anything left to say?” He countered, his voice as soft as it had been in the hut, no resentment to be detected.

She sighed. She had to think, had to use the right words this time.

He spoke again, “Where are you?”

She huffed a laugh at that.  “You know I can’t answer that.” Her heart twisted with a worry she hated to acknowledge: That if he did find them, would he kill her too? Would she have to kill him? How far they had come from the forest.

“Are you safe?”

She turned then, confusion pinching her brows. She couldn’t answer for a moment, her eyes roaming his face. Was there truly concern there? Finally, she couldn’t take the anomaly of his question in silence any longer. Anger spiked through her, her voice rising now. “You and your First Order are actively hunting down me and my friends, how can I possibly be safe?”

“If the Resistance stands down, they will be imprisoned but their lives will be spared. I--” He looked down for a second, swallowed. When he looked back his gaze had hardened with conviction. “I don’t intend to rule the galaxy the way that Snoke had, with domination and terror. If peace can be achieved than so be it, but control will be had.”

“And me, you’ll throw me in prison as well?”

His silence was all the answer she needed. Even now, he still wanted her by his side. She really shouldn’t feel excited by that knowledge.

“And do you still have Stormtroopers? Stealing children from their families, stealing their names? Brainwashing them into an army of slaves?”

“An army needs soldiers. An empire can never stand without the means to defend itself.”

He was unbelievable. She scoffed, turned away from him again. She didn’t need to let this fight get out of hand like it had the last time. She took several deep breaths. Then she took several more. He kept his silence. If she couldn’t feel him in the force like he was right there she might have thought the connection had broken. She thought about waiting it out, give them both more time to think before they spoke again.

However contentious she felt, she couldn’t deny that this felt right, having him here. More right than she had felt in weeks, like a missing piece of her had slid back into place. Did he feel the same way?

“I don’t want to fight with you, Ben,” she finally whispered, glancing back at him. At hearing his name, a tension she hadn’t even realized was there bled away from posture. His jaw relaxed and he exhaled long, like he had been holding his breath. The sense of relief was palpable through the force. She still called him Ben. He hadn’t been sure.

She felt her eyes start to burn as she ached again for that boy inside the man, lonely and yearning and afraid. This, more than anything, heartened her faith that there was still a chance.

“Neither do I,” he replied, the words echoing in the space he once occupied. He was gone.

---

His hand trembled over the fastenings of his underwear. He balled it into a fist to still it before loosening the button, reaching in and touching himself. He exhaled shakily, leaning his head back against his headboard and shutting his eyes. He always went slow, reminding himself of what pleasure felt like. He’d denied himself of it for so long, hating the times it was a necessity, a vulgar flaw in his biology. Pain had been his teacher, victory his only reward. This wasn’t for him to indulge in.

As a boy and then as a young man, Snoke had corrupted everything good in him. The love of his family, his faith in the light. Even this. His earliest desires were quickly twisted into dark and ugly horrors. He recoiled from them, feeling himself to be vile, feeling wrong. He avoided the thoughts as well as he could, taking no pleasure in the violent fantasies forced upon him, but fearing that perhaps he did.

Now, he allowed himself this. He sought these thoughts out timidly: soft skin, a hot mouth, hands roaming places he’d never touched. Small parts of a whole he didn’t fully understand.

Force help him, he thought about her. 

He couldn’t think of anyone else. He tried really, tried to give her this privacy, but no one else had ever made him feel this way, shake him to his foundation and give him strength all at once. After she had rejected his offer, the act felt more pathetic than ever before. She’d never give him this.

Seeing her again, the first time since Crait, drove him to sate himself. Seeing her, hearing her, reminding him all over again of every beautiful detail of her that his memory paled in comparison to. She still called him Ben. Knowing that, he used the detail in his mind without guilt. Well, without more guilt.

“Rey...” Her name slipped out on a shaky breath, and his cock twitched in his hand. He brought his other hand to his mouth, sucked on the back of it and tried to pretend that it was her skin. Her neck perhaps, or the flat plane of her stomach. He had to draw the sounds of her from the memories of their fights. Could he make her gasp, to whine his name?

Lightyears away, Rey lay in bed and sought her own relief.

It wasn’t really a bed. All the bunks were taken, as was much of the floor. She’d scavenged some cushions from elsewhere and made a pallet for herself in a supply closet. It sat above a particularly noisy part of the engine, so she wasn’t afraid of being heard as small, needy sounds escaped her. Exhausted from repairs to the ship and meetings about strategy, she didn’t have the resolve to keep him out of her thoughts tonight, not with his gaze still burning a hole in her memories.

Maybe he thought about her too.

She sucked in a breath at that, her heart hurting in a beautiful way as she clenched down on her own fingers. She didn’t know where to put that surge of emotion so she let it escape from her mouth.

“Ben…”

If anything it made her heart ache more, like it was swelling and stretching her ribcage to its limit. It made her want to cry.

“Rey.”

Her eyes opened, and she turned toward the motion she caught in the corner of her eye. He was looking down at her, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen him. His mouth was parted in a gentle pant, like she had caught him training.

She hadn’t caught him training.

He was stripped to the waist, still pale as before but now slightly flushed, a dampness collecting in his clavicle. His hand gripped the black sheet in his lap, the towering evidence of his erection apparent at its center.

She was flat on her back, wearing only her panties and a loose tunic, which was hiked above her breasts. Her hand still snaked beneath her thin grey blanket, its occupation undeniable. Her hair, undone, puddled behind her head. He watched her gaze turn from his eyes to his lap a couple times, trying to read the expression on her face. The connection between them blazed with the realization of what they both were doing, that singular rightness that came with being together nestled inside it, making him dizzy.

She spoke first. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t understand, and then when he caught the motion beneath her sheet, he did. Unable to find the words to respond, he just obeyed. His hand disappeared, finding himself still hard and leaking, and began to stroke it again. His eyes never left her, hardly blinked, raking her top to bottom. She followed the movement of his gaze, drinking her in like he was dying of thirst. Then she watched the movement of his hand, a thrill racing through her knowing that he was enjoying this - enjoying her. She tried to match the pacing of her ministrations to that of his, wondering what it felt like for him.

His left hand twitched out toward her. She thought she felt a slight tug on her blanket, but if he was responsible, he went no further. A choked sound escaped him, like he couldn’t remember how thoughts could be coherently turned into words.

Finally, he managed, “Let me see?” His voice cracked weakly, higher than usual. She looked back at his face again, finding a needy expression there. His lips were trembling, but his eyes -- oh. They were gonna swallow her whole.

“You first,” she breathed. 

Ben swallowed. His left hand twitched over his sheet, hesitating. This was new to him, too, and that made something in her center pulse joyously. They weren’t alone anymore.

He uncovered himself, manhood jutting out of the fly of his underwear. He was slick with precum, ruddy and purpling slightly at the head. Rey sucked in a breath, caught off guard by the size of him. She could smell him from here, a musky scent distinctly different from the rest of him. She swallowed, knowing she had to follow suit.

His intense gaze locked onto her lower half when she began to remove the blanket. He found her hand working beneath the thin covering of her panties, and he moaned low in the back of his throat. He looked wild, his teeth half bared between his full lips. His breaths came in fits and starts, like there wasn’t enough of his brain to devote to the task of managing his lungs. She was no better, one hand fisted in the sheets as with her other hand she moved to slide two fingers inside her. She couldn’t remember being this wet before. She lifted her hips to meet her fingers, the movement tilting her breasts back. She had never felt much reason to have pride in her breasts, aside from the fact they weren’t usually a hindrance while crawling around in gutted out spacecrafts. Tearing his attention from the hypnotic motion of her hand, Ben felt himself salivate at the sight of her breasts. They were perfect, rosy nipples erect and inviting.

He shifted a little closer on his knees, his pace on his cock faltering at this new distraction. His eyes slightly glazed over, he reached forward without thinking and --

Rey shook her head, a small sound of denial in her throat.

Ben retracted his hand in an instant, like a flinching beast. The hand on his cock stuttered to a halt, and his face took on a slightly pained expression, warring equally with the lust that remained. 

Feeling his hurt confusion reverberate through their bond, Rey desperately wanted to assure him that he wasn’t being turned away, not really. She rolled her hips to remind him she was enjoying this, biting her lip like she had seen the brothel women do, as they tried to seduce the men into their tent. This seemed to have an effect at least, his eyes following every gesture like he would the forms of an opponent. He still hadn’t returned to what he was doing.

Her eyes slid down the length of his body to his cock, still needily erect. “Touch yourself,” she said, the command sounding more like a plea than an order. A request that they continue with this game of theirs.

His eyes searched her face, and she could practically see the thoughts warring in his mind. His jaw worked like he had a confession to make, his lips pressed together like they did when he felt unsure, or vulnerable.

“You,” he whispered, glancing down at his cock then back at her. There was a glint of fear in that look, that she might reject him again. She could see an unspoken please in his eyes, a word her heart hurt to recall with clarity.

She took her hand out of her panties, but not before dipping deeper one more time, coating her fingers and palm with slick. He watched her with wide eyes as she reached for him, wrapped her much smaller hand around the considerable width of him and slowly tightened her grip. His eyes closed. When she began to inexpertly stroke him he groaned out loud. He seemed about to collapse in on himself, the sensation of another’s hand touching him so intimately - no, of her hand touching him so intimately - was better than any orgasm he had ever had. He couldn’t imagine what this one would feel like.

He was hot, and surprisingly soft. Velvety skin along the shaft and slightly spongy at the head. Sometimes she would swipe a thumb over the slit at the top, enjoying seeing the pearly fluid build and drip, keeping him lubricated. She had never seen one hard before. She was as fascinated by its function as she would be of a new piece of tech, scavenged and repaired. His groans became more like whines, gasping for breath between each one that she ripped from him.

“Rey--” He stuttered out, “Rey, Rey, Rey, ReyReyRey.” Her name became a litany, the purest expression for what he was feeling, so inadequate was any other word in any other language.

Rey had replaced her right hand with her left, the same actions awkward with her off hand but still pleasurable.

“Ben,” she whined, wanting him to feel what she felt, hearing her name spoken with such reverence.

“Oh, fuck-- Rey, I’m gonna--” Whatever he was going to say became swallowed by a broken cry as he queezed his eyes closed. Ecstasy didn’t just wash over him, it pulled him under like a riptide and tried to drown him. The first two jets of cum flew straight over Rey, probably off his bed. The explosion startled an “Oh!” from her, and she released him in her surprise. Immediately he replaced it with his own, jerking furiously as more cum leapt from it, striking her high on her chest, her breasts, her stomach. He was panting like he had sprinted a mile. When he opened his eyes again he looked drugged.

After he took over, she returned her right hand to her pussy, her vision glued to the sight of Ben coming completely undone before her. His semen was hot on her body, cooled by sweat exposed to the open air. Curious, she touched a finger to a stripe of it and delivered it to her tongue. It was salty, but overall mild, not unlike what she knew herself to taste like.

After a few moments, Ben appeared to recover slightly, his eyes mapping the stains he’d left on her skin, wanting to lock the image in his mind for eternity. He felt a little guilty about the mess, but Rey didn’t appear to mind. He thought of wiping her off with his blanket, but he leaned forward and used his tongue instead. Rey’s eyes, which had fallen shut as she chased her own release, popped open. He thought she might send him away again, but she didn’t. He used firm, efficient strokes of his tongue to clean her, the gesture oddly endearing. He cleaned her stomach first, than her neck. He saved her breasts for last, the contact on her sensitive flesh making her gasp sharply.

After the last of the cum was gone he did take a single liberty my pulling one nipple into his mouth and running his tongue slowly over it. She made one inarticulate cry, followed by his name, before falling over the edge herself. 

He pulled away to see her face, to capture that too, but in the space of a blink, she was gone.

#reylo #reylo fanfiction #fanfiction #my fic #my writing #yo guys this is my first fic in over a decade but it aint too shabby

[adabellatovey1990]

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[ii9ir3iri30ri30ir93ir03ir903]

shitty parallel paradise translations ch 101-104

Shitty Parallel Paradise Translation Chapter 101 to Chapter 104

a duwang quality parallel paradise translation transcript draft from chapters 101 to the first few pages of chapter 105. My brother asked me to do it but I really can't put that much effort into something I don't really care. This was sitting on my computer so i thought I'd put it here even if it is half-assed but if this gets enough likes or reblogs or DM's I'll do it more seriously and give the translations to the group who's doing it (or whoever wants to clean this up and typeset this I can give u photoshop if u want). Scans are from rawdevart.com don't go to the other one because that one is full of ads. 

notes: I've never read parallel paradise so I don't know how the characters sound. It's a draft so there's lots of brainstorming words and sentences. 

Enjoy the duwang. Namazu out.

 Chapter 101

The dreaming maidens target is…?

The dreaming maidens spearhead is aiming towards?

 I can't stay as a dreaming virgin?

 Peko is looking this way like she doesn't want to get along.

 Peko!!

 You're here aren't you!!

 Come out here!

 Tch,

 Peko's stupid but she's skilled

 Accompany him to sandorio

 Go together with him until sandorio please.

 I think it would be enough with ruumi and amane though

 It probably is but…

 Even though peco has talent, she's not a guardian/has no guardian (?)

And therefore she doesn’t know the world outside/outside  world.

 Because of that I would like to use this chance to give her some experience.

About this world's absurdity (不条理）

 You can make her carry your stuff (make her a porter?/carrier?)

 Please bring her with you

 Carry your stuff!?

   …alright.

 Peko once you're ready we're moving out.

Tch

 Argh dammit

 I can't take this!/I can't do this

 Me as a stuff carrier you say!?/me carrying stuff you say!? This genius me!!

 For this ugly guy!!

 Yes yes ill do it ill do it I'll get ready!!

 It's misaki sama's orders so I'll obey it!

 But I definitely won’t listen to this guys orders you hear!1

 I can't believe this humiliation/disgrace!!

 On second thought, can I refuse/

Please can you do something about it…

 Well then we'll be going

 Yeah, be careful

 You'll overthrow the (deep jealousy god)(?),

And I believe you will erase the (hougetsu) from the humans

 Yeah

 Where's peco

She's waiting outside

 I see, peco's a unicorn huh

 Hng

Kia, what happened to your face?

 I got kicked by a unicorn. It was a shock.

 Even though I've been taking care that much care of it all this time…

 Aahhh…

Unicorn's hate non-virgins so…

 I put a saddle on a bicorn.

 Arai 荒いrough rude wild

Kisei nature

Odoroki

 I am surprised that it was this easy to put a saddle on a bicorn despite such wild nature.

 Its because Bicorns like non-virgin girls

 Yota-dono

Once the battle is over, I want you to definitely come back.

 Because you want to copulate?

 Because I like you.

 I'll come back.

 For sure.

 This time, il come back to this city…

  Is When I've triumphantly return from  defeating the (god of deep jealousy ?)

 Well, let's go!!

Taa

uWaa!!

 Too fast too fast!!

 Is it alright if we go this fast!?

 If we're going the same as a unicorn it's totally fine!

 Okay

Let's set up tent here

 Wow we've progressed quite far in one day…

 Yes

At this rate It might not even take 7 days to reach sandorio

 Peco how about you come here and eat together with us

 I'm good

 I am the sole luggage carrier here

So

 I very well can't partake/join in  with hero-sama and the guardian-dono

 I will go and patrol around the edge of the vicinity

 Everyone else please go ahead and go to bed before me.

 If something happens be sure to call me immediately!

 Huuuh?

 Don't make fun of me

 There's no way I would depend on someone like you ba-ka

 It’s dangerous alone!

Don't mind me

I have confidence in my skills so

 What the hell is up with her

 She was always a strange child but

 It seems like she got even more worse during the period we didn't meet.

 The human man that she admired turned out to be yota I wonder if she was greatly disillusioned…

 Shut up!

 Tch

 Who was it, who was the one who said lets  set up the tent at a place like this!?

 Parallel paradise 102

 I want to penetrate! A maidens policy!

 Fufufuffu huhuhuhuh…

 It's one of me vs 9 of them huh

 It's definitely not enough you know

 Okay that’s 2

 From here on it's the debut of my specially made reverse KARU personal knife!  

That makes four

 Fufufu if I used this then the KARU are like walking tofu!

 Nope nope

 Your presence is totally not erased so

 Okay 7

Now

Theres only you know

 What will it be?

 Bui-ru

 You can go and call your comrades if you want?

 Since im here anyways I'll exterminate all the KARU in the area

 Geez, misaki-sama too

 Whats up with the 'I want to show her the absurdity of this world"

 Even though I am so much stronger than it.

 For real?

Sorry…

 As I thought

The world is wide…

Tch

The probability of hitting its weak point is 1 out of 4…

  No good huh!

 Don't fuck with me!'

 What the hell is this

 Just by one punch I cant move my body anymore…

 "call me as soon as there's something!"

 If I call now,

 I wonder if that hero-dono will come and save me…

 There was no point in trying that hard to train in martial arts

 No matter how much you train the body it'll be the end if you get punched once.

I'll just be used for these guys sexual desires and die…

 To think that…

 I was this weak

 Save me…

 Pp chapter 103

   Looking down from above, a peeping danger!?

 s-save me…

 You're late to call

 Baka

 You okay?

 Why did the KARU run away?

 I don't know the reason but

 For some reason when they hear my voice the KARU run away,

 Whats up with that

 That kind of thing is cheating right…

 Well

 That's why when you're with me you won't get attacked by the KARU

 As I thought… I hate you…

 Men… are too unfair…

 even though I couldn't defeat that stupidly big KARU no matter how hard I tried.

 You're right

 That's not true

 Ru-mi -sama

 If youta was bad man then I think he would've used his powers for his own self interest

 He is the only man in this world after all.

 And besides if you copulate with a man you won't die of moon destruction when you turn 20.

 Eh?

 If those are the circumstances then we definitely can't go against yota.

 In exchange for extending your life he could make all the women in this world do whatever he wants

 Every single day copulating with lots of women.

 I won't do that

 That's right, yota won't do those kinds of things

 Even though If he wanted to he could've done countless horrible things.

 Forget about trying to use us.

 He's putting his life fighting to free us from the destroy moon.

 It's very fortunate that this world's only man is yota Is what I think.

 It was written in a book in sindoria/

 That's unusual

 Amelia spoke

 3000 years ago the man who appeared…

 Brought this world into the brink of atrocity

 He did as he liked with all woman

And made them into toys to satisfy his urges

Took their value has humans

 he left them along the sidewalks 

Laugh at their pathetic forms.

 And brought a period of  treachery.

 Akugyaku no kiri wo tsukushita to

      See as I thought its good we got yota

 Was it truly like that

 Even I, if I stay in this world forever that could I also…

 So peko

 Don’t you have anything to say to the hero-sama that saved you?

 So the KARU will just run away when you use your vice,

 So just by using your voice you make the KARU run away, pretty nice position you got there that you can experience the glory of a hero so easily like that

 You

 I hate you even more now.

 Lets go and sleep now

 Ahh!

 What's wrong what's wrong?

 The unicorn!!

 The unicorn ran away!!

 Did you tie it up properly…

 I did… tie it up I think…

 It might have ran away from the giant karu's howl yesterday

 Can this bicorn ride 4 people?

 If it's this big then it should be fine, the problem now is…

 Peco, try and touch the bicorn

 Ehh…

 Ouch!

 As I thought it would not let a virgin ride it huh///

 Yota…

 Well… it cant be helped huh.

We can't just leave peco here and we can't just walk either.

 Peko take of your underwear and face your ass here

We're copulating

 Huh!?

 If you're a non-virgin you can ride the bicorn

 Hurry up and take it off

 If you hate me that much then let's copulate in the agreed way and business like way

 Chapter 103

 I'll copulate with you

 Haa

 I'll do it how you want it professionally

 Hurry up and take of your underwear and face your ass here

 Just with one prick you'll be able to ride a bicorn.

 Know your place

(mi no hodo wakimaenasai)

 Huh?

 (Peco, her only option left is)

 If I have to copulate with you then I'd rather die right here right now.

 In the first place I didn't have any business anyways, I'lll just go and head home alone.

 If I have three days then I can walk back to mi-su so don't mind me please go on ahead without me

 I've already learned plenty  how wide the world is.

 Even if I put in effort its useless

 To lose to a man just by way of him existing is

 No matter what dangers I face, it's better than procreating with a man who feels like a hero just for existing.

 You know what peco

 Then why is your pleasure fountain overflowing?

 Eh!?

 I get it peco…

We also walked the same path so…

 You're getting excited imagining opulating with yota right?

  You're wro-!

You should just give up

 I know you know?

 That peco draws lots of naked

 Wai-!?

 Why!?

 It's famous.

 That there are lots of pictures of naked men hanging in the room

 Didn't you know?

 You're interested in men aren't you

 It can't be helped

 It's alright

 I'm sure it's the same for everyone so

 It's not something to be ashamed about

 You'll get it if you copulate with yota

 To be honest

 I am interested about copulating

 But…

 But…

 I thought that men would be more beautiful but…

 But… this…

 For them to be this rugged and bony and an ugly being like this is…

 Give it back…

 Give back the beautiful men that I imagined

 Give it back…

 I've been denied whole heartedly while in tears

 If you really don't want it, it can't be helped but…

 If you have even a little bit of interest in copulating then please

 I don't want to leave you here all alone.

 At least…

 Inside the tent please…

 Oh my oh my

 Hurry up and get it over with it already

 If you look at her closely even though she's cute what an amazing smell

 Well it's not like she's taken a bath yet

 Even though you look like you really hate it your pleasure fountains bursting you know

 Even though I haven't even touched you yet you're already really excited aren't you

 Shut up!  

What is this what is this?

 Good it's come out already the non-virgin mark

 With this it's settled then

 Let's ride the bicorn and head off to sandorio.

 But… if you want to apologise for all the rude things you did regarding me then I’ll continue copulating with you (?)

  What will you do

 She said lots of conceited things already…

 Let's mess with her a little

 Will she fall

 Or perhaps she'll endure it

 Tears

 Eh!?

  Hero-sama

Hero sama…

 For not knowing my place and all the incalculable rudeness

 I am sincerely very sorry

 Oh Please bless this wretched pervert with copulation…

 You didn't have to fall that far!

 What's with you

 Kuaah

 I… I'm a pervert who loves men!

 Always!

 I'm a pervert who always imagines copulating with men!!

 I didn't know!

 That men were such strong beings like this!!

 It's totally different

 Than women!!

 Thank you

 Huh?

 It's not something you have to say thanks for

 No

 Yesterday

 For saving me

 Aahh

 105

 Even with for people riding it this bicorn seems to be totally fine

 Yeah! Because it's this big!

 Before,

 They say the humans of this world came out from that castle right

 Yeah

 Everyone was born in the castle and leaves the castle to start living in their own cities/towns

 You leave the castle between when you become old enough to be self-aware or not so there are only hazy memories.

 In this world without men, girls being born from a castle…

 If you think about how it is, inside that castle it's like there's something pretty nasty about it inside…

 Who on earth lives in the castle

 The empress

 Nobody has seen her face though

 The empress has already lived for thousands of hears and protects this country

 Eh?

Isn't that?

 Could it possibly the witch?

 But here,

 Whether you can say bad things about the ruler of this land…

 Well then let's head off

 What a creepy forest

 The shortest course would be through here right

 We can't go fast here so it's also an opportunity to let the bircorn rest.

 Please save me!

 Uwah!

 Kobold

 What are these guys?

 Kobold loves young girls and metal

 They're aiming for our weapons

 Peco?

 Small fry…

 As expected her martial arts is ruthless/can’t be excused

 Are you alright?

 b-big sister thank you…

 It was scary…

 She has an unexpectedly kind face huh

 Everything is alright now

 Peco had a little sister

 They were killed though

 Hey ru-mi sama

 I want to take this child all the way to the city

 That's impossible

 Why?

 I mean that child can't ride a bicorn right?

 Wai-!

 You planning on copulating with a child this young!?

 I wasn’t!

 Oh alright!! Then I'll walk and drop her home to the city myself!!

 You guys can go on ahead first!

 Like I said it's impossible peco

 You definitely can't walk in the outside world alone.

 LUMI=sama…

 Aren’t you underestimating me a bit too much?

 Just because I was saved once yesterday…

 It's alright

 There's an easy solution so

 Eh?

 Amane

 I feel a bit sorry for them but this way it's settle

 Let's hurry and move on

 Peco look closely!

 That childs a ghoul

 Ghouls turn into people to let their guards down and then attack and eat them

 Even if you cut of their arms and legs they’ll regenerate but their stomach is their weak point.

 I'm sure it teamed up with the Cobolt to attack people.

 The Cobolt for the metal and the ghoul for the human meat

 How di did you know?

 Ghouls have a special smell

 The smell of human corpses

 The ghoul made you let your guard down So I apologise I ended up saying it in such a roundabout way

 But with this you understand now right?

 I understand you have confidence in your martial arts but you can't walk the worlds outside of the city with just that.

 I think that's why misaki wanted you gain experience.

 See, look peco

 Aren’t you glad you didn't have to go back to mi-su alone?

 If you didn't mate with me you would've been dead by now.

 Shut up

 Why don’t you go die instead!!

 Die you!!

 Pp 106

 The weather has been fine all the way…

 At this rate we should already be arriving at sondorio!!

 Just a bit ore nishina…

 I defeated garia and I obtained the card that will free you from the cold sleep./ that will release the cold sleep

 Once I get to sandorio I'll awaken nishina…

 And then…

 What on earth happened to her,

 Why did she become the "wtich of deep jealousy"

 Everything that I don’t know I'll hear from her!

 Ah

 It's sandoria!

 Eh?

 What's the matter amane?

 What the? It's/something burning?

 You're wrong

 It's a beacon/signal fire right?

 Does that mean something happened in  sandoria?

 What, is that…?

 That’s…

 What on earth happened?

 We haven't met in the while huh

 Kaduchi

Banyuu

 Nakuta sama… what on earth does this mean?

 It's proof of my resoution

#parallel paradise #parallel paradise translation #my translations

[ladyfogg]

Sick Like Me - Part 1/20

Sick Like Me - Part 1

Fic Summary: With unfinished business hanging over your head, being locked up in Arkham is holding you back. However, you have your eye on a certain red-haired maniac, who may be just the person to help you escape and realize your true potential.  Fic Song. Fic Playlist. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Jerome Valeska/Female Reader

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, for a complete list of warnings, visit AO3.

A/N: Since the teaser is doing so well and I’m a couple chapters ahead I thought I’d post part 1. There are a lot of warnings, so I would suggest popping over to AO3 to check them out. Since this is still a work in progress, I will update the tags as needed. What's listed now is stuff that I know for a fact will happen in the story. Enjoy!

They are at it again.

The telltale sound of the headboard hitting the wall echoes down the corridor to your room, seemingly amplified with every dull thud. Bump. Bump. Bump.

You clench your jaw, trying to block out the sound, but knowing you won’t be able to. Because she wants to make sure you hear. Her pure resentment for you has been there since the day she met your father. She thought once you graduated she’d finally be free of you; the constant reminder that her stake in your father’s fortune is half of what it should be. Or at least, what she thinks it should be. But when your father insisted you stay living at home, she had flown off the handle.

They had argued about it a lot. You were just as eager for the chance to be free. When it was snatched away, your anger grew.

You know why he’s keeping you. Despite how much he hates looking at you, he needs you to be there with him. As much as he despises losing his first wife just to bring you into the world, he can’t toss you away. Because you look exactly like her. You hear it time and time again. Especially when he’s drunk. Mostly when he’s drunk. And you wake up to him sitting in the corner of your room, watching you. Always watching you.

Tonight though, he’s taken his second wife to bed instead of creeping around your room. Possibly because you’ve made it a habit to lock your doors, lest he give into whatever disgusting perversions are hiding in his mind.

The thumping stops and you sigh with relief, only to hear a giggle and even louder thuds. Really. With all this money and the size of this house, they won’t invest in soundproofing. Or at the very least, let you move your room to another wing.

You can’t take it anymore.

SIlently slipping out of bed, you move silently across your room to the door. The hallway is empty, though their noises are much less muffled and make you wrinkle your nose. Thankfully, the sound doesn’t carry downstairs as you head to the kitchen. Your father’s private security is milling around, looking bored. You avoid both men easily, ducking around corners and behind walls just as they come into view. Neither of them see you get the knife, and they certainly don’t see you walking back upstairs.  

The knife feels nice in your hand. Not perfect, it’s not properly balanced and the handle is too chunky. But this one will do the trick. You had decided as much the previous evening when comparing it to the others in the set. All it needs to be is sharp. And it is. You tested it on yourself to make sure.

By the time you get back upstairs, the noises have finally stopped. Without making a sound, you turn the handle to their door and peer inside. There is no movement in the tangle of blankets, and the only sound are your father’s snores. You step into the room on tiptoe, pausing as the door creaks slightly. Nothing. Not even a shuffle.

Still silent, you maneuver your way around the strewn clothes, eyes focused on the lump that is your father. Him first. He started this mess after all. No one told him to procreate.

He’s on his back, mouth hanging open. You flip the knife in the air and catch it by the handle, before jumping up on the bed and straddling his chest. He doesn’t move, and judging by the sleeping pill bottle on the nightstand, you’re sure he’s not going to.

Sad. You want to hear him scream. Oh well.

You slide the blade across his throat slowly, grinning at the skin splits open and that warm rush of blood sprays all over you. It’s so much more satisfying than cutting yourself. In fact, you’re never going to cut yourself again. Now that you know how good this feels.

Suddenly, your stepmother screams and you jerk your head to the right in time to see her coming out of the bathroom. She clutches a flimsy robe around her body and she’s screaming so loud. God doesn’t she ever shut the fuck up! You vault over the rest of the bed, making towards her so you can finally shut her up yourself. But the door bursts open and the security detail is on you before you get the chance.

You’re so stupid! You should have checked to make sure she was sleeping next to him!

The trial is a quick one. You found the entire thing laughable to be honest. Them looking at you with pity in their eyes. Why are they pitying you? They are the ones who are still slaves. You’re finally free. It’s liberating to say the least.

And not even the last two years in Arkham have changed your mind. You still feel freer than you did back then.

Currently, you’re sitting in rec room at one of the corner tables by the window. Eyes scanning the room, one leg is stretched out on the seat next to you, while the other is bent at the knee, propping up your arm.

Fuck you’re bored.

You resort to people watching, which is your favorite past time. Next to masturbating, which you really don’t want to do in front of everyone.

It’s late in the evening, and most people have either been brought back to their cells or are busy doing other things. The few who stay in the rec room are those who have been here for some time. Some even longer than you. Your friend Aaron, and you use that term loosely since you barely speak, sits a few tables away with Greenwood and some other inmates. He keeps an eye on you to make sure no one is bothering you.

You turn your head to look out the window, watching as the sun goes down and the lights of the city get brighter.

The plus side to the creepiness that was your father is that you can always feel when someone is watching you. And besides Aaron, you know that someone else is. He’s been doing it for a while now, though you don’t give him the satisfaction of returning the gaze, too busy lost in your own thoughts.

That woman still lives in that house. You’re sure of it. She put too much effort into making herself comfortable there. In your home. With your money. Not that you want any of it. You just don’t want her to have it.

You can just imagine the look on her face when you slide the blade along her throat, just like you did with your father.

“What’cha thinking about, gorgeous?”

You drift back to reality, turning your head to the side to meet those ever piercing eyes you felt before. Jerome sits across from you, chin in hand as he rests his elbow on the table. This is the first time he’s actually spoken to you, though you’ve heard his voice many times before. It’s pleasant and does things to your lady bits.

You were hoping he’d come to you. Oh yes, you noticed him the second they brought him in. The circus freak, the guards called him. The one who murdered his mother and laughed about it after Detective Gordon and Dr. Thompkins confronted him. As soon as you heard that, you knew you needed to meet this boy. But you played coy. Kept your distance, until you were sure he’s what you want.  

“Murder,” you answer.

Jerome’s face splits into an excited grin and he sits up straight. “Do share, do share,” he urges. “Plotting or reminiscing?”

You smirk at his excitement. “Plotting.”

He’s out of his seat instantly, vaulting over the table to land next to the chair beside you. He lifts your foot to slide into the seat, letting your leg drape across his lap. “There’s nothing like a well, thought out, premeditated murder,” he says.

“What do you want, Jerome?” you ask, cutting straight to the point.

He gives a mock gasp. “You know my name!” he exclaims. “And here I am not knowing yours.” His grin widens and he wiggles his eyebrows. “How do you know mine?”

“I pay attention,” you say.

Jerome swirls the chair towards you, his pale hand slowly moving up your leg in the process. It comes to rest on your inner thigh when he leans into your space. The feeling sends shockwaves of pleasure through your system, reminding you just how long it’s been since anyone you were physically attracted to was in that area. The occasional fooling around with a guard or other inmate was necessary for safety reasons, but this didn’t compare to any of those forgettable touches.

What you wouldn’t give to be able to shove him onto his back and straddle his waist. His skin is so pale, you bet he bruises nicely. He might fight you though, wrestle you for control, maybe wrap those slender fingers around your throat…

“So, you’ve paid attention to me,” his voice cuts through your inner musings. He’s practically vibrating with excitement.

“Well, you’ve been watching me since you arrived,” you say. “It’s only fair.”

His smile fades as he reaches out with his free hand, the tips of his fingers trailing down your cheek. You indulge in the action, if for no other reason than curiosity. “Hard not to, pretty doll like you,” he all but purrs, tongue darting out to swipe at his lips.

You watch the action, feeling yourself grow wet in response as it conjures all sorts of naughty images.

“Flatterer,” you purr, leaning your face into his touch.

Everything around you seems to blur, your focus entirely drawn to Jerome’s face. With the smooth roundness of it, you could see how the average person could mistake him for innocent. Idiots. All of them. Can’t they just see it? That delicious darkness deep in his eyes. You know they’re blue, but the pupils are blown so wide they look black. It suits him.

You abruptly sit back. Swinging your leg off his lap, you turn your chair to face him completely. Now that he has your full attention, he does the same, eagerly leaning forward.

“What’d you do to get stuck here?” he asks.

“Killed my father,” you answer.

Jerome’s face lights up and he puts a hand on his chest. “A woman after my own heart,” he exclaimed. “I killed my mom. Man, isn’t it such a rush!” He practically leaps towards you in his excitement, face split into a large grin.

“It was almost magical,” you agree.

“God, we have so much in common,” he sighs, leaning against the back of his chair as he crosses his leg to rest his ankle on his knee, nudging you with his foot in the process. “Why’d you do it? He touch you? Daddy get a little too handsy?”

“He didn’t get the chance to get that far. Mostly it was because he clearly didn’t want me. Blamed me for my mom’s death, which I would love to take credit for. Unfortunately, I didn’t ask to be born so that’s on them,” you tell him. “The real tragedy was not getting to his cunt of a wife.”

You can’t help the bitterness that seeps into your voice, and you lose yourself in the memories of that shrill witch again. If you could just go there now, knife in hand...but a good knife. A proper knife. Actually, didn’t even have to be a blade, just something sharp that would hurt real bad…

Your hands are resting on your thighs and you don’t realize you’re digging into yourself with your nails until you feel the prick of the jagged edges through the fabric of your pants. Jerome drops his foot on the floor and leans forward even more, drawing your gaze. Unable to help yourself, you do the same. He’s so close you can feel his warm breath ghosting across your lips.

“What would you do to her?” he questions, voice so low you can barely hear him.

You smirk. “Everything,” you say. “Anything. Honestly, as long as she’s not breathing when I’m done, I don’t really care.”

Throwing his head back with a laugh bordering hysterical, he slaps his hand on the table happily. “Ohh, you’re nauuughtyyyy,” he sings, grin so wide it makes you smile back.

“Puddin’, you have no idea,” you assure him.

“Puddin’? Hmm, Puddin’. I like that.”

Everything about him is working for you and you don’t even care why. You’re getting all hot and bothered thinking of all the things you want to do to him. It’s not new to you. You have thought of him before, alone in your cell with nothing but your own hand to bring you that sweet release.

Those same feelings and urges hit you full force, and you can’t help but palm yourself over your cotton pants, the pressure offering little relief to your aching clit. Jerome’s eyes drift downward to follow the movement of your hand. His eyebrows shoot up and that smile drops, replaced with a smoldering, hungry stare. There’s a good thirty seconds of staring. You touch yourself and he watches your face, almost as if he’s committing your expression to memory. He glances at your lips and your mind is made up.

You’ve decided to let him kiss you, or at the very least try to kiss him and see if he’s chickenshit. You lean in closer, and he obliges, both of you letting your eyes drift closed.

“Hey!” a sharp, authoritative voice sounds a few feet away. “You two, knock it off!”

Your eyes snap open, anger giving your vision a reddish tint. Jerome looks equally pissed off and you both slowly turn your heads to glare at the guard who interrupted the moment. No, ruined the moment. He fucking ruined it.

The man in question, a short, round, man with a bushy mustache, actually halts his steps, and you see a flicker of fear cross his face for a moment. But then it’s gone, replaced by sternness and determination.

“There’s none of that funny business,” he says, motioning to you and Jerome. Both of you still glare at him and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly.

Oh that’s cute, he’s a little afraid. He is one of the greener guards. Hasn’t been around too long. Probably won’t be by the looks of it. If you had something sharp on you, you’d be after him for interrupting. But you’d have to be stupid to attack him in front of everyone, with no weapon.

Instead, you swirl your chair around to face the table properly, crossing your arms and cocking your head to the side. You’re confused as to why the guard takes a step back, considering you barely did anything, but then you realize Jerome had done the same thing. Both of you, moving in perfect sync with each other without even meaning to.

“Better?” you ask the guard.

He smooths down his mustache. A nervous move perhaps? “You know the rules,” he snaps.

“Of course,” Jerome says, overly cheerful. “We’ll keep that in mind, good sir.” He gives the man a mock salute.

The guard gives you both a suspicious once over, before nodding and taking his leave.

Jerome's smile is gone in a flash. He watches the guard move to stand with another one by the door, who can’t be bothered to even try to look interested. Actually, you know that second guard. Lawrence, you think his name is. You’re pretty sure you jerked him off a couple of nights ago. Hard to be sure, it was dark after all…

“Ugh, this place,” Jerome sighs dramatically, flopping back in his seat, arms dangling at his sides. “It’s stifling.” He rolls his head to the side to smirk at you. “About that name of yours…”

“You’ll get my name when you’ve earned it,” you tell him.

Jerome is out of his seat and sitting up on the table in the blink of an eye. “And how would I go about doing that?” he questions.

You study him for a moment, before slowly lowering your crossed arms and sitting forward. This puts you at the perfect level to fit snug between his thighs, if he simply shifted over enough. “I’ll raise your question with one of my own,” you say. “Why are you suddenly talking to me now?”

“A girl could use a friend in this place,” he says. “The guards don’t care what happens. Well, the seasoned ones anyways. The newbies come around eventually. Bad things happen to bad people, all the time. Couldn’t help notice you’re always alone. You need someone.”

He's wrong. You're not always alone. It only appears that way.

“And that someone is you?” you chuckle. “You offering to protect little ol’ me, ginger?”

He moves to lay across the table, lounging on his side and resting his cheek on his fist. “I’m offering anything you need, princess,” he shrugs. “Like I said, girl like you needs friends.”

“Oh I have friends,” you say, nodding your head towards the door, where the two guards are just leaving. “Tall one and I go way back.” You motion towards Aaron a few feet away, who has been watching you two this whole time. “Then there’s that nice, strong baldie over there. Simple guy, don’t have to blow him or anything and he still looks after me. Real peach he is. Plus a couple of others.” You sit forward, face just as close as it had been right before you attempted to kiss him. “So what do you bring to the table, hmm? What makes you think you’re good enough to join my friends?”

“Um, helloooooo,” Jerome says, gesturing to his body. “I’ve got a hell of a lot more brains than half the crazies in this joint. Also, I feel like you can appreciate the fact that I am literally presenting my entire self, to you, on this table.” He presses his forehead to yours, and all you can see are those bright eyes.  

You laugh as you slide out of your chair, getting to your feet. Jerome falls onto his back on the table, head tilted so he can follow your movements. Pretending to ponder his offer, you place your hands on either side of his head, towering over him. The top button of your shirt is undone and you know he can see just the tease of your cleavage. His eyes drift there before meeting yours again.

He’s intrigued you to say the least. His approach suggests he needs you for something, though you’re not sure what at the moment. Still, he’s cute and you’ve had your eye on him for a long time. Could be fun.

“Maybe,” you declare, reaching out to ever so gently removing a strand of red hair from his forehead. He’s quick to try to touch your hand, but you pull it away before he can. “We’ll see. Right now I’m tired and it’s almost lights out. I’m going back to my cell.”

You start to strut away, but remember something he said and turn back. He’s propped himself up on his elbows, still grinning like a maniac. “By the way, I hate the nickname ‘princess’. I’m so much more than that. Don’t ever call me that again,” you order. “I’ll think about your offer.” Smirking, you pop another button, giving him just a tease of the tops of your breasts. He bites his bottom lip, eyes darkening with that hunger again. “And feel free to think about me later. You have my permission.”

With that you turn and walk toward the exit.

“Oh you don’t need my permission to think about me, queenie!” Jerome calls after you.

You stop as you reach the door and turn back to look at him across the room. “Good, ‘cause I already have,” you respond.

His eyes roll back in his head as he makes an obscene grunt and falls onto the table with a thud. You can still hear his laughter even as you head to your cell.

#jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska x you #jerome valeska fanfiction #ladyfoggdrabbles

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The Handmaid’s Tale isn’t just fiction – it was my life

http://fashion-trendin.com/the-handmaids-tale-isnt-just-fiction-it-was-my-life/

The Handmaid’s Tale isn’t just fiction – it was my life

Born into a religious cult, one woman, who chooses to remain anonymous, says Margaret Atwood’s chilling vision is all too real. Here, she tells Kate Graham how the happenings of the Handmaid’s Tale were very much her reality.

“Hangings, snatched children and sexual violence. Sitting down each week to watch The Handmaid’s Tale – the award-winning adaptation of Margaret Atwood’s classic novel – can be gruelling. You’re swept into Gilead, a dystopia where fertile women are a scarce resource to be violently used, controlled and crushed. It’s a world of state sponsored rape and religious fanaticism.

People think Gilead could never happen to them in 2018. But they’re wrong. Every horror in Gilead is something that has already occurred. The story just happens to be a condensing of all these crimes against humanity throughout history. Everything in Gilead already has happened to someone else and can – and likely will – happen again. In fact, it happened to me.

I grew up in nineties America, in a religious movement which controlled women’s appearance, sexuality and reproductive freedoms – all in the name of God. Called ‘Quiverfull,’ this cult-like philosophy has its roots in the Old Testament that says; ‘blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.’ Children are like arrows in the hands of a religious warrior. The more babies you have, the better, and the cult needed an army of subservient women to supply them.

In this world your mission is simple: let God plan your family size. Raise him an army of in tiny fundamentalists. Here feminism was a punchline. No one took it seriously. Women who were ambitious were derided and held in contempt. Women like Hillary Clinton were seen as shrewish and going against their innate nature. If they weren’t nurturing or demure, they were a threat and so they were treated as caricatures to laugh at.

Abortion was anti-family, feminism was anti-children, sex was for only for marriage and for procreation rather than just pleasure. Your mission is simple; let God plan your family size, raise a quiver full of believing children and “save” America by raising an army of tiny fundamentalist Christians. For my parents, this meant they had nine kids, and I was the oldest.

The Handmaid’s Tale: Everything you need to know

When I turned 12, my father bought a small jewelled ring for my left hand and made me sign a contract (a little like wedding vows) stating that my heart belonged to God and my virginity was to be saved for marriage. I wasn’t to have sex or participate in lustful actions (masturbating, kissing, holding hands, even reading romance novels) because my body belonged to my future husband. Not to me, but to some nebulous idea of a man who may or may not exist.

While the ring was an outside symbol of my obedience, purity was constantly reinforced by Quiverfull families like mine, and these ideas shaped our whole life. The girls in my church were urged to comply with a ‘Modesty Checklist’. I had to submit new clothes purchases to my father, as a way of “honouring” his authority over my body.

Banned items for the women in my family included white t-shirts (might be see-through), spaghetti straps (too easy for men to fantasize about you naked), shorts that rode up to show “too much thigh”, skirts that ended above my knees. My friends and I laugh that in our world, the Handmaids’ dresses wouldn’t have cut it – the necklines dip more than the width of two fingers below the collarbone, which is clearly immodest.

There was physical violence but I never met a man who was truly held accountable for his actions. Children were spanked up until adolescence. When husbands I knew were violent (including marital rape), charges were never brought and the church acted as if their wives deserved to suffer in the first place – for the sake of holiness.

In fact violence against women runs through the very essence of Quiverfull. After all pregnancy itself is physically traumatic and recovery and breastfeeding are gruelling. My mum was pregnant every two years and suffered from postnatal depression, which only went away when my youngest sister was four. I saw my mum became a different person then, more confident, questioning the world she was in. It was like watching someone come out from under a spell.

These touching photos show Saudi women proudly holding their new driving licenses

For all Quiverfull women, sexuality was a threat to be managed at all costs. Lust and masturbation were supposed to be men’s problems. I legitimately thought I was a potential sex addict until years later when I realised that I just had a normal healthy sex drive, and the church had just created all this shame to keep women in line, submissive and afraid of their own desires.

And all this just to reach one end goal: to groom women to be completely vulnerable and subservient to a man – just like a Handmaid.

It wasn’t just sexuality they sought to control. Like my mum and sisters, I wasn’t allowed a credit card in my name or allowed control of property. My education was a precaution, “in case” my future husband was unable to work and provide for me. Everything was controlled; I was even forbidden to watch The Little Mermaid because not only was she immodest, she disobeyed her father and was rewarded for it.

When I went away to a Christian college, I was finally allowed to join Facebook and have my own email account, but my father demanded access to all passwords “for accountability”. I started making friends with guys but was shocked to discover my dad had found them on Facebook then emailed the ones I was closest to, with intensely personal questions to vet them. There was never any privacy, and the sense of being his property was reinforced over and over.

Reading Atwood’s novel for the first time at 20, I was shaken. It was all so familiar, and so much more sinister than I had seen from the inside. That book was the start of my feminist awakening but I had to take it slowly, because processing the fact that you were groomed to be trapped in a cult by the people you trusted and loved is a really difficult process. Realizing that my father cared more about controlling me than about my wellbeing was a blow.

Watching the show had a similar impact. My friend Rachel and I watched it together long distance, texting each other our reactions. We’re both Quiverfull escapees and have complex PTSD from our childhoods, but the realistic brutality of the show is comforting. It feels so familiar, so vividly real and I‘m really pleased to see that reality getting such a wide audience.

My journey out of the cult took years and years. I got married to end my father’s thirst for control. Then I got divorced because I was growing further and further away from patriarchal Christianity, and my husband was dissatisfied with a wife who wasn’t willing to bend over backwards to do emotional labour for him.

As for my life now, I’ve kicked most of my terror of eternal damnation and the residual shame instilled in me by the church. It’s been a long, slow process of unlearning habits: this week I’ll try to not flinch if someone comes up behind me to read over my shoulder, this month I’ll try telling my friends when I feel insecure about being wanted. I’ll probably always have PTSD, though, and need to be in therapy to continue to heal.

I carry the Handmaid’s Tale with me everywhere, in tattoo form. After my divorce, I had four letters etched on my upper arm: N. T. B. C., for ‘Nolite te bastardes carborundorum’ or ‘Don’t let the bastards grind you down.’ Healing from that world is a journey, but at least now I’m free.”

Margaret Atwood on #MeToo, consent, and the enduring resonance of ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’