“But when fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.”—Stephen King. “‘Salem’s Lot”. (via fuckyeah-unclesteve)
“SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP.
because i don’t care if the bitch is parading around naked and saying “i want 78 men to fuck me like a tunnel entrance while i pour peanut butter and jelly on my tits and each of them choke me and call me a goddamn whore while they spray their cum all over me and spit in my mouth.” i don’t care if she’s walking down the street nude saying “CALLING ALL COCKS! IN MY PUSSY NOW! ALLLLLLL COCKS!” i don’t care if she’s dressed like a cut-throat, ball busting business woman in a 3 piece tailored suit from Suits R Us. i don’t care if she’s a goddamned nun. i don’t care if she’s wearing a burqa or hijab. i. d. g. a. f.
at the moment she says no? even if that penis is a 16th of an inch from entering her - hell, even if that penis is inside her when she says no? YOU. STOP. that’s it. those are the rules. that’s all there is to it.
the moment she says no.
the moment she tries to crawl away
the moment she screams.
the moment she passes out.
the moment she says “we shouldn’t do this”
the moment she says “im not ready”
the moment she says “i changed my mind”
the moment she just lays there and does nothing
the moment she starts crying
the moment she does anything other than emphatically, meaningfully, excitedly say YES:
that’s the moment you STOP.”—