Deckard: Mr. Nobody always accuses me of having a favorite person on the team
Deckard: That’s not true. I love Luke and non-Lukes equally
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@incorrectshobbs
Deckard: Mr. Nobody always accuses me of having a favorite person on the team
Deckard: That’s not true. I love Luke and non-Lukes equally
Hattie: Oh, are you done writing your speech for Deck and Luke’s wedding?
Owen: Yep
Hattie: That’s just one sentence
Owen: It’s prefect
Hattie *reading aloud*: “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure”
Luke: We’re friends. I was building up to calling you D-Dog one of these days.
Deckard: That will never happen. In fact, you’ve lost you “Deckard” privileges. From now on you can call me “Shaw” or “Hey you.”
Luke: C’mon, Deckard.
Deckard:
Luke: C’mon, hey you.
Luke: So, what did you get me for Christmas, Princess?
Deckard: The gift of me tolerating you.
Deckard: Is there no way to get rid of Hobbs?
Hattie: Not without cause.
Deckard: I have cause; it’s because I hate him.
Deckard: If things go wrong, I just want you to kno—
Luke: If you’re going to say you’ve always been secretly gay for me, everyone just kind of assumed it.
Deckard: That was my sarcastic voice.
Luke: Y’know, it sounds a lot like your normal voice.
Deckard: I’ve been told that.
Deckard, mumbling: You look nice. I want to kiss you.
Luke: What?
Deckard, normally: I said if you died I wouldn’t miss you.
Hattie: Deck, why are you holding Hobbs’ hand?
Deckard: Holding hands relieves stress and provides comfort.
Hattie: Oh, I thought you were dating or something.
Deckard: We are; I thought that part was obvious.
Luke: I bet you haven't done a single good deed today
Deckard: That's not true. In fact, just this morning, I prevented a murder!
Luke: How did you manage that?
Deckard: Self-control
Hattie: Hey Deck, are you free on Friday, around 8pm?
Deckard: Yes?
Hattie: What about you, Luke?
Luke: Yeah, I am.
Hattie: Great! Because I’m not. You two go without me. Enjoy your date.
Deckard: Did she just—
Deckard: Don’t look at me with that face.
Luke: It’s the only face I have.
Deckard: *coughs violently*
Luke: Don’t die.
Deckard: Don’t tell me what to do.
Luke: Turkeys are beautiful, intelligent animals.
Deckard: No, they’re not. They’re ugly and stupid and delicious.
Luke: Hold on, you died.
Deckard: Yeah, well it didn’t stick.
[Airport]
Deckard: Hobbs, it’s over 3 ounces. Just let it go—
Luke: I’m not going anywhere until this tsa fucker explains to me how I’m gonna hijack the plane with my baby oil.
Dom: So, what’s going on with you and Shaw?
Luke, sighing: It’s complicated.
Luke:
Luke: Actually, no. It’s not. It’s just fucking annoying.