Dating delilah loose lips sink ships
This has become a Dead Horse Trope in Comic Books, where it was once a staple.
Your teeth, which brought moments of bright pain/pleasure, Are now bared in an artificial, animal smile. You sighed it in contentment, And now you won't even speak it in passing. No color left to them but the muddy colors of Boredom, And possibly mistrust. I can feel my k to z love for you and see how that laugh of yours makes people cry and how that smile pierces my heart because it looks just like his did.
Occasionally, a smart character may even use another villain's calling card to frame them.
If the villain is well known, and their calling card shows up before they're introduced in the current continuity, (or if said Villain has been missing or dead for some time), then it's a nice Sequel Hook, or simply a hint of what's to come.
Gripping and fondling, squeezing and squashing, bright red nails chasing dark red offal through bloody plastic. Watery blood dribbles down her fingers and trickles amongst the shiny gold links of the watch that digs into the fat of her wrist. I mumble, “Slimming World.” She says, “Yeah, I got Slimming World tonight so I got to be good, just a bit o’ liver an’ onions an’ a bit o’ mash. For afters it’s sticky toffee pudding an’ custard.” I say, “I thought you were having liver? I’m happy to say that I’ve found a rare alchemy with these lads so it’s not just a rambling load of old bollocks – I listened back to the recordings and I’m pretty damned pleased with them. We will definitely be discussing books, music, creative influences and compromising sexual situations. He says, “I just nipped out earlier, to Frank’s Hardware.
The bag of meat slowly leaks watery blood onto a cracked, white plate and it makes me feel very queasy. They probe and squash the chunks of glistening raw liver inside the bag, the meat slithering as if it is attempting to evade her cruel grasp. I’m relieved to notice that I have no trace of an erection. It’s only vaguely planned, but those plans go out of the window as we meander off the path to wherever the conversation goes. He blows his smoke at the open gap but the cold breeze just blows it back in his face.
they say everything happens for a reason and you are my reason.
Delilah baby you are the here and the now of stop sign on the corner is an obstacle for street racers but its a godsend because its just enough of a pause for me to kiss you between the eyes.
“Animals,” I whisper, pressing myself back against the sink as the kettle bubbles and clicks. She frowns, squeezing the contents, checking if it is defrosted yet. stumble away from the kitchenette, away from the immense woman with an open shocked mouth and her bag of raw meat. There’s always something that gets in the way – work, family, an inconvenient criminal conviction for dog-bothering. Well, this weekend I’m starting a podcast with my mates, Sam and Andrew. They can borrow her if they promise not to burn her out or shit on the seats.
Once lover and friend, Now barely one And never the other again.
your spider fingers are wrapped in my hair like a plea to never be left aloneyour spindle legs are all knobby kneed and pale entwined with mine. I was a hurricane and he loved you too much to look afraid that one glance and he'd be head over heels reeling out of control like you were the drug and he was the addict.
After a moments pause he asks me why I explain that no matter what color or shade An eye will tell you how deep there secrets go, How much they love Or how sad their heart is Eyes will tell you how passionate a person is Or how dark the deepest pits of them are.
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