#and then there's skully's thought process of 'no one understands me' but because no one has been willing to try | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingquest · 3 years ago

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There's a slow, burning tension in his leg. It pulses, aches, like a knot strung too tightly around some distant extremity, the pain reverberates through his bones and marrow and finally congeals somewhere in his head. Dizziness threatens to suffocate and lethargy pools with his blood; he's too distracted to notice the newfound scrapes and tears trailing up his torso.

His helmet weighs heavy against his chest. He stirs, struggling to pull his head up. He stares blearily at his boots, only half-noticing the binds that tie them. He glances at his leg, which by all accounts should be splattered against moonrock, only to find freshly applied bandages instead. A fibery gauze has been wrapped underneath his clothing, snug and bloody.

He tries to pull himself upward, but his muscles reject him. His back falls onto a rocky surface behind him, followed by his hands and elbows, both also bound.

"Morning."

He freezes. White noise gnaws at the following silence. Adrenaline shoots through him, his fingertips lighting up with stars, but no matter the strain, no matter the exertion, he still can't fucking move. It takes all of his willpower to jut out his chin just enough to get a better angle, to peer out from behind his mask to find the voice, and in the end the tendons in his neck scream nearly as loud as the bullet wound. His effort is finally rewarded with the sight of a terran sitting atop a storage device in front of him, a thermos in one hand and his own gun in the other. She smirks at him.

Recognition comes slow. The memory of how he got here is trudging behind. Still, when the other shoe drops, so does his gut. He tenses, fighting against the ropes, only for a headache to strike back with a vengeance.

Skullcap droops.

His target sneers.

She says, "I was worried you might not wake up. Some people don't."

She leans forward, the gun not leaving her hip. She squints.

"Seems like the paralyzer's still in you some. I'll have to let my tox man know."

Skullcap says nothing.

"It'll probably fade," she says. She sips at her drink, shrugging. "If it doesn't, well, I can at least say I tried to opt for mercy."

She sits, waiting. Her eyes roll over him, like she's sizing him up. She adjusts the gun ever so slightly, taking a glance at it. Skullcap keeps his mouth shut.

"I knew you were coming. I mean, obviously. What'd he say, 'alive, not dead?' Bet he wants a crack at me himself." She laughs, tilting her thermos back.

As she swallows, she goes silent, almost expectantly so. She tilts her head, pursing her lips. The back of her heel bounces off of her seat.

"You're making this so boring. The silent, intimidating thing doesn't work on me, babe. I've already got you cornered." She sighs. "Come on, don't you have any questions for your predecessor? Or were you just going to shoot me down?"

Skullcap doesn't have an answer for that. He watches her, his head hung low. His hands clasp and unclasp behind him.

She scoffs.

"If you're not going be any fun about this--"

"How do you figure this is mercy?"

Vaira's brows raise. Then she huffs a laugh.

"For one thing, I didn't take your silly little helmet off."

He sighs. It teeters on relief.

"That, and you're still breathing. Moron." She swings her legs. "Is it not enough that I wanted to meet you? I hear he's put quite a bit of stock in you."

Skullcap bristles.

"Though," she says, "he did send you on a bit of a suicide mission."

He clears his throat. "How's that?"

"Either he overestimates you or he underestimates me. And I'm fairly certain it's not the latter." She examines her nails. "The way I see it, it's more than likely there's a bug on your ship. Aside from the literal vermin you keep, of course. They're tracking you, so if you end up keeling over somewhere, they've got a better idea of where I am."

This flood of information is too much at once. He hesitates, processing. His kneejerk response is defensiveness. "It's... not vermin."

She laughs. "Do you even have a license for that thing? If it's your partner, you know you'd need a contract with the guild, yeah?"

Her words buzz around in Skullcap's head. They refuse to stick. He just stares at her, adjusting his arms.

She waves dismissively. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. Besides, we've gotten so off track anyhow." In a quick gesture, she leans behind her, his gun unmoving. She plucks a tablet out from somewhere, scanning through it.

"Shocked we couldn't get a proper name on you. I would've dug further, but," she gestures to her surroundings. "Let's see. God, Typhor? Of all places? I suppose that was a given, but... still." She grimaces.

She glances up at him, scrutinizing. She adds, as if speaking to herself, "I wonder if he pulled you by your scruff from the dunes or if you actually wax pious. I've seen those scars of yours; my initial assumption feels apt, but I could be wrong. Either way, he's got you hooked somehow."

Skullcap pushes himself forward, heat gathering in his throat and jaw. "Now, look--"

"--You've had some decent jobs," she says, as if he'd said nothing at all. "But you've also had some real shit ones. I heard you shot someone in court." She clicks her tongue.

He stifles a groan. "None of this is any concern to you. It isn't your business."

"Honey," she says. "I've already strip-searched you. And dressed your wound--"

"From your bullet."

"--Which was an act of kindness on my part that none will see the likes of again. May I remind you, you were sent to disable me, or perhaps even kill me, so therefore I consider myself privy to all your dirty little secrets. Unless you'd like to do something about it?"

Skullcap stares at her. She leers.

"I thought not. Now, where were we?"

"Can you just cut to the goddamn chase? Please? If you're gonna kill me, get on with it, but if not--"

"Do they not have rapport in Typhor? Or do they just shoot people down like bloody dogs when they disagree?"

Skullcap's head tilts, indignant. She sighs.

"I suppose you're right. Even still, there's nothing wrong with a little conversation. I'd prefer that over a bullet in my head. And it's not like you introduced yourself. You just stormed into what you assumed was my hideout, gun drawn. Where are you manners, Skully?"

They watch each other wordlessly. Her nails tap rhythmically against the aluminum of her thermos. Her brow is quirked. His helmet hangs low, his eyes cast over in shadow. If no one knew any better, it'd be easy to assume there was nothing behind the gaping holes of his headwear at all.

It dawns on him that she, however, isn't so easily fooled. It's like she stares right through him, past the metal and chrome. Like her pupils are little scalpels, probing and dissecting. He believes that she's true enough to her word, that she didn't remove it, only because he's not sure if it would even matter if she had. She's playing like she's already seen everyone else's hand, and yet the only other player at the table that's losing is him.

He grunts. She huffs a laugh.

"Perhaps they don't teach you any of those on Typhor either." She shifts her legs, refolding them. "Would you prefer that I go first?"

Silence. He is trying to stop himself from sinking lower onto the floor.

"Very well." She straightens herself, extending her hand as if she wasn't several meters away and his hands weren't already bound. "Allow me to make your acquaintance. My name is Vaira Talwar and I'll be your mark this evening. Welcome to my home away from home."

Vaira gestures to the cave surrounding them. The humidity compresses into him; he's able to make out a distant dripping of water. The caves probably lead to a reservoir, or something of that nature. Must be how she's survived.

"I'm sure you've met my partner on the way in. She was very excited to meet you."

He stutters then, as if buffering. His helmet raises to see her better; her expression is stone, smug. He was warned of no accomplice. Her eyes brighten considerably, as if the helmet's somehow conveyed his alarm. Her mouth twists into a smirk.

She sets her drink down, raising her fingers to her lips. She whistles a sharp, airy sound unlike anything he's ever heard, and in an instant, the dim light behind him is blotted out by a massive silhouette. The shadow cuts through the cave's stilled air as dust swarms behind it, loose particles filtering in from underneath his helmet. He coughs through it, unable to wave away space to breathe, and once the debris settles and his breath is steady enough to see, he is filled with a deep understanding, one that piles onto to the preexisting load of dread hanging in his chest.

Vaira's arm is outstretched, covered with a metallic sleeve he doesn't remember seeing her put on. It's armored fabric, perfectly able to support the massive talons of her apparent partner. The thing's feathered head tilts at him, brassy and angular. Its beak comes to a wicked point and, at a passing glance, seems to have been gilded with gold. Vaira clicks her tongue at it and it shrieks, its golden eyes not leaving him. She places the gun down long enough to run her fingers through its feathery chin.

"Aquila, Skullcap. Skullcap, Aquila." She leans forward, cupping her hand over her mouth as if relaying a secret. "And of course, she's a guild member. Licensed and everything. I'd hate to get fined, or worse!" She barks a laugh. The eagle ruffles its feathers.

Skullcap simmers. Of course, she takes notice.

"Come on. Don't be so chuffed. It's not my fault they didn't warn you, is it?" She adjusts her arm and Aquila shimmies to her shoulder. Vaira points to her claws. "If you're wondering what exactly you've got running through you, take a look."

At second glance, the points of the bird's central nails shift into an almost transparent finish; a middle-ground between grey and pink. They're hooked inward and almost... hollow looking. Like fangs, he realizes. The weight from his chest spreads through him like nausea.

Vaira, unphased, coos at the monster upon her shoulder. It preens in return, chittering from somewhere within its throat.

"I've always been the type to work from above," she says, "but Aquila can see what even I can't. It's why we work together so well." Vaira pauses, not once casting a wayward eye back to Skullcap. "I've got a mate who distills her toxins. The bullet breaks down with its own velocity and melts like butter on impact. Penetrates, but not enough to shred through entirely. Just enough to dig through to an artery."

She turns back to him now, her grin slow and easy. "It's a bounty hunter's best friend."

Skullcap opts to stare. He would rather not give her the satisfaction.

Her expression gradually flattens. Her eyes roll. She shakes out her shoulder and Aquila jumps, swoops over him, and perches behind his rock; her shadow looms before him.

"I weep for our mutual friend's taste. Seems like it's worsened since I knew him. Maybe he thinks boring would keep him safer. Or at least, less likely to lose his new favorite toy."

"I'm mostly wondering what this is all leading up to."

She pauses. "Oh?"

"At this point," he says, "You've had ample chances to kill me. Between your gun, my gun, and whatever the hell she is, the way I see it, you're either stalling or you're lonely."

Vaira's brows raise. Her lips purse. Skullcap can't quite read her expression. He talks past it regardless.

"So," he says, "which is it? You keep talking about him, but as far as I'm concerned, you're the one who ran out on him. Just now figuring out crime doesn't pay?"

Her cheeks twitch. The corners of her lips draw deeper into her face, panning out into a barely restrained simper, before the first peal of laughter escapes her lungs entirely. She's overwhelmed just as quick, nearly doubling over and off her seat. He watches her wipe a false tear from her cheek with her shooting hand's pinkie and even as she composes herself, she's racked with occasional chuckles.

"You think--" she pauses to laugh, "--You think I'm lonely? You think I'm lonely because I quit my job?"

"Now I didn't say that."

Vaira throws her head back. She leans forward again with an amused sigh, shaking her head.

"Listen babe. You've got me all wrong. Let me tell you something." She leans forward, almost conspiratorial. Her voice drops to a whisper. "I've never felt more free in my goddamn life."

She drops her legs from the container, sliding off into a stand. She takes a step closer, his gun dangling at her thigh.

"And maybe," she says, "maybe if you'd open your eyes for once, you'd see I'm trying to pay you a fucking kindness. Mercy, remember?"

He squints. "I don't follow."

Vaira takes a deep, dramatic breath. Her thumb digs into her brow. "Fuck, mate. Are you really this dense? I'm trying to give you an out."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Do you even hear yourself?" She scoffs. "Of course I've had ample time to kill you. I could've done it a dozen times now." She lifts the gun, shuts an eye and takes aim. "Bang. You're dead. Or, bang," she points somewhere lower, "Dead again. It's so easy I could do it in my fucking sleep. But I haven't. Because here's the part you're missing, you stupid arsehole; we can be of mutual aid to each other."

He feels like she's struck him across the helmet with the gun. He works through the false tinnitus.

"What about any of this is mutual?"

"Must I spell it out for you?" She rolls her eyes, taking a step forward. "I'm letting you live. I'm letting you live so that you can let me live. And if we're lucky, we can both get out of this rotten deal we've found ourselves in."

"You mean... this?"

"No," she says, "his deal."

He hesitates, considering this for a moment. "There's no deal. I'm a freelancer."

"I thought that too. Like I said; I'm your predecessor, mate. In every sense." Her expression shifts. Humor leaves her in waves. "I was independent until, one day, I woke up and I wasn't."

They hadn't told him that, either.

"So, what?" He shifts his weight, the joints of his hands afflicted by pins. "You just up and left?"

She turns to stare at him for a moment. "How long have you been under his employment?"

"You're avoiding the question."

"I'm gauging how I'll answer. You go first."

His breath gets caught between a groan and a sigh. Every exchange is a new defeat.

"Two jobs," he says.

For an instance, a fragment of a second, something close to sympathy--or empathy?--softens her features. As soon as it comes, her natural sharpness returns.

"Then you don't know what he is. You can't see how deep in it you are yet."

"So," his brow furrows behind the helmet, "you're saying that if I help you now, you'll be doing me some favor by... what, saving me from the very same man that hired me to catch you?"

"Something along those lines."

"Right," he says. "Alright. Question."

"Shoot."

"Is your head screwed on right?" He lifts his neck, measuring his own strength. "How dumb do you think I am?"

A laugh rumbles in her chest in spite of his tone. "I don't think you want me to answer that."

"Har har." He huffs. "Can we be serious? I mean, why in the name of anything would I believe you, Kingfisher? After all of this?"

She brushes her hair back. She inhales slow. "Look. I know this seems like a classic case of the devil you know versus the devil you don't, but I'm trying to play in good faith. I'm turning a new leaf, yeah? I don't know how much of my reputation you've caught wind of, but--"

"--You killed eight people. Nine, if we're counting the decoy from the cave. 'Far as I know, that's all I need to know."

"Eight still," she replies, "But even then, they were eight bad people. Eight people who have been around him much longer than I have and still want nothing more than to exist in his shadow, hoping he'll even pass a glance towards them." She purses her lips with a sigh through her nose. "I'm not naive nor insane enough to suggest that what I did set them free, that it was justified somehow, but if I was so deluded as to fall completely victim to his bullshit like that, I'd rather die."

He hums. "Is this supposed to get me to believe you?"

She rubs the bridge of her nose. "Alright. Sure. Think of me as awful or evil or whatever the hell you want. Go on. I don't need to explain myself to you and, quite frankly, I don't care to." She shifts, jutting a finger out at him. "But I need you to know--to realize--that whatever you think I am or however you see me, he's ten times as bad. He's the worst kind of person there is, hell, even calling him a person would be an undeserved compliment."

He watches her jaw clench, the strain of the tendons in her cheeks. Her gaze drifts, following a thought unseen, before she trains herself upon Skullcap again.

"He's a monster," she says. "The kind that makes running with an inevitable bounty seem like a far better alternative."

A chorus of thoughts speak over each other, everything suddenly hurtling toward him too quickly. It muddles together, registering more like the echo of blood against the shell of his ear. His focus becomes overwhelmed by parsing through each voice before it dissolves into nothing, his judgement clouds over. He feels himself approaching a threshold of a decision, whether to believe her or not, and while his senses scream at him to deny her, to resolve himself against her, there's something else there, something that's pleading with him to hear her out. It comes anytime he looks at her now, anytime she stares back, and despite her hard expression, despite the tension in her frame, her eyes refuse to settle. They wander, searching, almost uncertain. Or desperate, he thinks. He's seen desperate before in marks, but not quite like this. Not quite so... reliant.

Frustration burns like acid in his gut, rising through his chest and drying his tongue and he's not sure if it comes from her or his own mental strife. His boot wiggles in its binds.

"If you were anything like me," she says, like she's read his mind, "you'd have your eye on this gun. You'd be waiting for me to slip up, for my grip to falter. Waiting for your chance. You wouldn't even be listening to me, you'd just watch and wait."

"Look--"

"--But you're not like me. I've read your files. I studied your cases, waiting for you to show up. I had a hard time figuring out what drives you at first, but I'd neglected to consider Occam's razor. A good shooting hand can pay for most meals, can't it?"

He doesn't respond.

"But you don't go for the messy jobs. You'd rather take shit pay for something that'll let you sleep at night. Sure, you're a killer, but you've got a conscience. More than most of us can say for ourselves."

"What's your point," he says.

"You want to know what I'm saving you from?" She lowers herself to her haunches in front of him, her forearms resting over her knees. "I'm saving you from becoming like me. So you don't have to look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself how your decent heart ever turned so black."

He mulls on that. The flood of thoughts have softened to an erratic buzz.

He clings to his instincts, clearing his throat. "But you don't care about that. You're not even doing this for me. You're doing it to get an extension on your clock. And at the same time, you want to drag me down with you." He pauses. "I'll end up like you all the same. Running for the rest of my life."

Her brow twitches. "Isn't that better than losing your integrity? Or, hell, your sense of self?"

He isn't sure. The acid builds.

He shakes his head, pushing his doubt away. "The way you talk about him like that, it--it's ridiculous. I've got no reason to suspect him the way you say."

A memory unclogs itself and bubbles upward, but his trust is an ever-moving metronome. He hesitates, uneasy. He swallows harshly before opting to share. "You were right. He wants you back breathing. But he didn't seem angry so much as he seemed... disappointed. Or something between the two."

Her eyes narrow. "Betrayed?"

"Kinda," he says. "The impression I got was he wanted to, well, negotiate your terms."

Vaira's brow creases. No words follow. She instead focuses intently on his helmet, almost studious, her mouth pressed into a firm line.

"All I'm saying is--"

"--You're wrong," she says. "Your impression was wrong. You were lied to."

"How do I know that? Better yet, how do I know you aren't lying?"

"I don't have any reason to lie. I could've just killed you."

"You have every reason to lie," he says. "But I reckon that's a fair point."

"If you're so concerned with thinking I'm bullshitting you, then I'd like to make myself tremendously clear, for a moment. If we're being honest and all that."

Her voice lowers. She leans forward. "If you decide to take him at his word and bring me back to him, if it even crosses your mind, I swear to everything in my life I hold dear that I will not stop fighting you until one of the two of us is dead. And if you get the upperhand somehow, if you get your chance, I want you to promise me you won't miss."

He flinches. The air gets caught in his chest.

She adds, "They'll punish you less for that, if it helps. Better to lose one plaything than two."

The thoughts in his head have gone quiet all together. The metronome's gears grind.

He speaks again after a spell. "Say I believe you," he measures his words carefully. "Say I'm in. What then?"

Her expression clears ever so slightly. "Then we find the bug on your ship."

"My ship," he repeats.

"The three of us won't fit in mine," she says, simply. "We find it, tear it out, and leave it here. They'll send someone else in your place and by that time, we'll be long gone. I know a few good hiding spots, I'm sure you do too. You can drop me off somewhere, if it so bloody pleases you. It's easier for you; no one knows your face, your name. I could change mine I suppose, maybe swap species entirely."

"You might have the cash for something like this. But I sure as hell don't."

Vaira snickers. "Well, that's easy. I'm greedy, not stingy."

"We're still fucked, Kingfisher, no way around it."

"You've been fucked," she says. "You've been fucked since he found you as my replacement. I'm trying to unfuck you, 'Cap. This is our only chance."

His helmet lulls. Anxiety leeches the warmth from his hands.

"You offered a pretty good deal earlier, you know. If I shoot you, everybody gets off square, justice gets dealt. This shit fades, we'll be in my ship, I get a gun and it's over. What's to stop me from doing that?"

"You won't," she says.

"I won't," he repeats.

"No." She's smirking now, white glinting past her lips. "Because you're not like me."

His head jerks back. "What's that got anything to do with it?"

"For starters, you didn't notice that I lowered the gun ages ago."

His eye follows her arm. His gun sits between her knees, rocking back and forth, its grip held loosely between her thumb and index finger.

Skullcap exhales slow.

"That ain't any fair."

She snaps the gun back into her palm before he decides to prove her wrong. It's twirled into the holster on her leg and she stands with it, her hands finding her hips. She towers over him, shifting her weight to one leg.

"What is, in this business?"

From the ground, he isn't in a position to argue with that. He redirects instead.

"You sure keep acting like my opinion matters any, like I got some say."

"You're not a hostage," she says. "We'd be working together."

"Sure doesn't feel like it from here."

Vaira hums. "Do you trust me?"

"What do you think?"

"Then the feeling's mutual," she says. "And until you trust me, I can't trust you. But."

"But?"

"I'd like to. And I understand that earning your trust is not an easy feat, but we can work on it."

He laughs dryly through his nose. "You could start by untying me."

"You're so cute." She sighs. "Fine. Little by little. I'm not such a hard arse that I'll drag you there again this time. I'll free your legs once I'm ready."

"On the flip side of things, then." He readjusts, finally able to bend his knees through the binding. "What if I say no?"

She shrugs. "Would you prefer being left to die?"

He gestures loosely with his shoulders. "But wouldn't that be easier? What exactly do you gain from taking me?"

Her head tilts. She narrows her eyes, as if in thought. Her cheek twitches.

After a moment she says, "I'm not entirely sure." She sucks air through her teeth. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I am lonely. It's nice having someone to talk to after so long. Or, well, someone who talks back." She glances at the shadow behind him. "Sorry, my love."

The bird snaps its beak.

Skullcap dwells on her words. It was an intuition he'd pulled out from somewhere, but with hindsight, perhaps it'd been projection. For the first time he considers if this is some universal hunter experience, why so often those of his creed join together as a group. He reflects on his many hours spent within silence, between his own breath and the groan of his ship's hull. Sometimes he didn't mind it. Sometimes he did.

He wonders how Vaira spends her time alone. He wonders how she copes.

These ideas come at a surprise to him and he wills them away. They recede, but not far.

"Right." She bursts through his bubble and he jerks back into focus. "Well, I'm going to collect my things. Let me know what you decide. Or if you, ah, need anything."

She turns on her heel, stepping beyond the storage device, deeper into the cave. He hears the pull of metal across dirt and rock, the opening and closing of clasps unseen. Her head bobs distantly, wandering deeper into the stretch of cavern than he realized initially existed.

Aquila's nails drag across the rock above him, as if to remind him of her presence. He doesn't concern himself with it. Instead, he deflates with a breath he hadn't realized had accumulated, shrinking into the stone at his back. Neither his judgement nor his morals have any answers left to give him now. He visualizes his thoughts as a mass of white, intangible and empty. He opts to go limp, then, letting his head fall back with a clunk as he stares at the clusters of moonrock above.

He can't help but ask himself what she would do in his position. Then he realizes, of course, she'd already given him her answer. A gun provides an easy solution to any ethical dilemma.

Her earlier threat suddenly returns to him and settles anew, like something raw in his stomach. He suppresses a shudder. Skullcap has to remind himself that easy does not always mean just. Too many unanswered questions. Too much doubt.

His thoughts then, naturally, turn to the emperor. Skullcap cannot reconcile his own predicament with even the smallest proximity to Zusk; it's like his parts can't fit right in the picture, like if he willed it, the matter would simply dissolve before him. But as he considers it, he can't quite visualize how Zusk would address any transgression against him. The various middle men he's sent to deal with Skullcap can only convey so much about him, let alone his motives. Vaira's bias threatens to sway him; was that his intent all along? Or just an inadvertent flaw illuminated by hindsight?

Skullcap didn't know. He doesn't know. The uncertainty churns away at his insides and his knuckles dig into his forearms. He isn't sure what's worse: stuck, forced idle, waiting at an unknown precipice or not knowing which way he'd run even if he could.

So he opts to breathe. To focus on each breath as if it were his last, to savor them like a last meal. Every inhale welcomes a new exhale, another tick of the clock that he can claim as his own, something definitively his.

Until he's forced to move, to act, at least he will have this. At least this solution was still his own.

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bobbystompy · 5 years ago

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68 Quotes I Enjoyed From 2019

Below are my favorite quotes from 2019. Though most occurred throughout the year, some took place before but were encountered during.

1) “I don’t bitch about Millenials.

John Entwistle once complained that he didn’t understand rap. Pete Townsend said, ‘It’s not our job to understand it. It’s our job to get the fuck out of the way.’

New generations come of age. The older generation’s job is to shut up and adapt.” - @danagould

2) “I can’t do drugs with you until we kiss.”

3) “If you pay me $50 I'll show up to your funeral but stand really far away, holding a black umbrella regardless of the weather, so that people think you died with a dark and interesting secret.” - @DanaSchwartzzz

4) “A human being is a dangerous thing to let loose in a room with itself, when it cannot think.” - Roger Ebert

5) “There are no bad bourbons, only better bourbons.” - Dave Hernandez

6) “You can’t put a dollar in a kimono.”

7) “This is how it was.” - rampant takeaway from watching ‘Superbad’ several years after its release

8) “What if I had been born fifty years before you in a house on the street where you lived / Maybe I’d be outside as you passed on your bike / Would I know? / And in a wide sea of eyes, I see one pair that I recognize” - Ben Folds, ‘The Luckiest’

9) “Learn the rules so you can break them.”

10) “Nobody makes chili for two.” - Stacy Massey

11) “‘Best city in the world,’ I mutter to myself, as i adjust my ‘driving blanket’.” - Chicago resident Deanna Belos, during the 2019 Polar Vortex

12) “Dude, no one’s ever got arrested for listening to Counting Crows.” - Ricky O’Donnell, justifying late night music volume at his party

13) Bill Belichick: We’re going to have fun tonight. Rob Gronkowski: Yes we are. We deserve it. Belichick: You’re damn right. Gronk: I haven’t stepped out in like eight months. I gotta step out tonight. Belichick: I’m with you, man. I’m even going to step out. Gronk: Oh, I like it!

A Super Bowl winning exchange.

14) Center David Andrews thanked Bill Belichick for giving him "a shot".

Belichick disagreed with it.

Andrews: Thank you for giving me a shot. Belichick: A shot? I didn't give you shit. You earned it! I don't give anything.

Another Super Bowl winning exchange.

15) “We elected one of the very worst living human beings to be President, and it's exhausting. Each and every day, it's an exhausting slog, just to exist in a world where that's true.” - Michael Schur

16) “Some of y’all always picked Odd Job when you played Goldeneye and it shows” - @thedad

17) “Any app is a dating app if you try hard enough.” - Z.W. Martin (though he says it’s lifted)

18) "Once you're as woke as I am, you learn to feel bad all the time.”

19) “Everything’s a balance beam when you’re 90.” - John Dingell

20) [I wake up in a world where The Beatles never existed]

Me: Check out this song I just wrote

[I begin playing “Ob La Di Ob La Da” without having first built up years of goodwill]

Crowd of people: Wow, this sucks ass

-- @seanoneal

21) “People change people.” - Corey Matthews, Girl Meets World

22) “The easiest thing to do on earth is not write.” - William Goldman

23) “Dan could be like a difficult uncle. I didn’t love his fire-breathing conservative politics. I didn’t love the transformation that came over his novels. In Semi-Tough, he created two benighted Texas jocks and laid their prejudices bare. He was declaring himself a member of the Mark Twain coaching tree. In later books, Dan seemed to be trying to prove he could still tell a racist joke. He insisted that his memoir—the last truly immaculate piece of writing he delivered—include a tirade against political correctness. When his editor said people might be offended, Dan said, ‘Fuck people.’

There are certain writers whose style you pilfer. Certain writers whose moral fiber you try to inherit. For me, Dan represented a third category: a writer whose aura you replicate—or, failing that, try to stand in for a while.” - Bryan Curtis, on Dan Jenkins

24) “Never marry anything. Never choose. Even in love, it's better to be chosen.” - La Dolce Vita

25) “An uncluttered, uncomplicated happy ending might sound wonderful, but it’s hardly ever satisfying. Because the value of great stories lies in the tension between desire and need, between the yearning for the ideal, and the unshakable conviction that ideals don’t really exist, at least not the way we want them to. A great story should hurt a little when it leaves us. There should be some hope, but that hope should remain somewhere just an inch beyond our fingers, because that’s the truth. Even if you had all the perfect moments in the world, you’d still be reaching.” - Zach Handlen, on the Futurama series finale

26) “You can’t see him because he has sunglasses on.” - Alissa Levy

27) “The cinema is the greatest art form ever conceived for generating emotions in its audience. That's what it does best. (If you argue instead for dance or music, drama or painting, I will reply that the cinema incorporates all of these arts).” - Roger Ebert

28) “‘Are you gonna let politics ruin a friendship?’

Yes tf I am

People talk about politics as if it’s this isolated, abstract concept that only matters at election time. Somebody’s politics is their world view. It’s whether they think certain human beings deserve rights. It’s how they think the world should be. And if somebody thinks that the world should be colder, meaner, less accepting and downright hostile to people that are different to them, then sure as fuck is the friendship over.”

29) “Can the Supreme Court get me mushrooms?” - J-Papp

30) “Any song under two minutes already has a head start on its way into my heart. Just scream at me and then leave me.” - Drew Magary

31) “Long neck cold beers never broke my heart.” - Clemson Tom

32) “I’d just like to point out that the last spoken words of Game of Thrones were:

‘I once brought a jackass and a honeycomb into a brothel.’”

- @Authoroux

33) “Just once before I die, I want to toss my keys to someone and tell them ‘Bring the car around’.” - Mike Skully

34) “For all the weight they're given, last words are usually as significant as first words.” - Grand Maester Pycelle, Game of Thrones

35) “The best remedy for unrequited love is a trip around the world.” - Cheers

36) [on switching from a hotel to a motel]

Manny: I don't like the sound of that. A lot of amenities disappear when an H turns into an M. Jay: Hey when I met you, you were eating cereal out of a bucket.

-- Modern Family

37) “You and Lindsey don’t want to be ‘estranged’. Estranged is the relationship we want to have with our mothers.” - MegFil

38) “Cigarettes are undefeated.”

39) “My toes are like my fingers on my feet. I can pick stuff up with them.” - Tracy Cunningham

40) “Republicans govern without shame, Democrats shame without governing.” - Bill Maher

41) Sam: I don’t understand the vagaries of the Internet Josiah: Post often, without thought, and you’ll either get cancelled or cancel someone else.

-- Blink-155

42) “Hang a lantern on your problems.”

43) “What a weird web we weave.” - The Situation, The Jersey Shore: Family Vacation

44) “Let the ocean worry about being blue.” - Alabama Shakes, ‘Hang Loose’

youtube

45) “Honesty without tact is cruelty.” - Shelley Rokos

46) “My whole life is the wrong porn link.”

47) “One parent can take care of 10 kids, but 10 kids cannot take care of one parent.” - Joe Gestetner, via “an old Yiddish saying”

48) “There are no heroes in the room.” - Classics of Love, ‘Gun Show’

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49) “If I am a little dismissive, it's only because of my harrowing backstory.” - Mitchell, Modern Family (on why he doesn't like sports)

50) “Every time I’m wearing black, I meet a dog.” - Tracy Cunningham

51) “Shower sex? Why would I fuck in my crying chamber” - @chridollarsign

52) “My theory about quarterbacks, having written about some of them, is you either have to believe in god or think you are a god.” - Mina Kimes

53) “The contradictions of capitalism always manifest in our lyrics if you look deeply.” - Blake Schwarzenbach of Jawbreaker, Riot Fest 2019

54) “Got a ‘hang loose’ from the weakside bartender.”

55) “It’s Jennifer’s birthday always.” - Eric Hutchinson

56) “I can’t think of a less relevant artist in 2019 than Kanye West. A Jesus freak in a MAGA hat. Yeah, congrats dude -- you’re every grandma who watches ‘Young Sheldon’ and mails checks to Joel Osteen now.” - Dan Ozzi

57) “The past and future are in the mind. I’m in the now.” - Tom Brady, via someone else

58) “Sometimes you walk around boring places and you feel like the most exciting thing in it.” - Drew Magary

59) “Sitting is the new smoking.” - Modern Family

60) “I'll straight up fight folks at a book club and discuss books at a fight club I really don't give a shit anymore.” - George Wallace

61) “Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.” - Rose Garvey via wine country

62) “It’s all ‘ok boomer’ until you need someone who can drive stick shift.” - @OrdinaryAlso

63) “He likes the result of the math.” - Dad, talking about my worst subject frustrating during the process but satisfying in the end

64) Stepmom: Do you want a Bears urn or Alabama urn? Dad: Ask me after they play Auburn.

65) “A cold body carries a warm heart.” - Stefanos Tsitsipas’ Instagram, after his Iceland sabbatical

66) [preparing a dish called the Sandwich of Justice with his friend’s recipe]

"The fun thing about it is when you give it to someone, you can say 'Justice is served.’ That's, uh, Ryan's line. I built my whole life on the backs of my friends." - You Suck At Cooking

67) “Usually three people can keep a secret only when two of them are dead.” - The Irishman

68) “An artist can't control who consumes their content any more than a chemist can control how their chemicals are used once they're created.” - Brian Crooks

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