W Huh Quotes

W-w-what?" I stepped aside or was forced aside as he entered my apartment, carrying something wrapped in tinfoil, a carton of eggs - huh? - and a tiny frying pan. "Cam what are you doing? It's eight in the morning." "Thanks for the update on the time." he headed straight for my kitchen. "It's one thing I've never been able to master: the telling of time.

I looked him up and down. Once before I’d seen Jericho Barrons wearing jeans and a T-shirt. It’s like sheet-metaling a W16 Bugatti Veyron engine - all 1,001 horsepower of it - with the body of a ‘65 Shelby. The height of sophisticated power sporting in-your-face, fuck-you muscle. The effect is disturbing. He had more tattoos now than he’d had a few days ago.when I’d last seen him wearing nothing but a sheen of sweat, his arms were unmarked. They were now sleeved in intricate crimson and black designs, from bicep to hand. A silver cuff gleamed in his wrist. There were chains on his boots. “Slumming, huh?” I’d said You should talk, said those dark eyes, as they swept my black leather ensemble.

As I brush my teeth, I scroll through my phone to see if Sabrina texted when my phone was on silent last night. She didn’t. Damn. I was hoping my speech—and that amazing fucking kiss—might’ve changed her mind about going out with me, but I guess it didn’t. I do, however, find the most mind-boggling conversation in the group chat I have with my roommates. All the messages are from last night, and they’re bizarre as fuck. Garrett: The hells, D?! Dean: It’s not what you think!! Logan: It’s hard to mistake ur romantic bath with that giant pink thing! In ur ass! Dean: It wasn’t in my ass! Garrett: I’m not even going to ask where it was Dean: I had a girl over! Garrett: Suuuuuuuuure Logan: Suuuuuuuuure Dean: I hate you guys Garrett: <3 Logan: <3 I rinse my mouth out, spit, and drop the toothbrush into the little cup on the sink. Then I quickly type out a text. Me: Wait… what did I miss? Since we have practice in twenty minutes, the guys are already awake and clearly on their phones. Two photos pop up simultaneously. Garrett and Logan have both sent me pics of pink dildos. I’m even more confused now. Dean messages immediately with, Why do you guys have dildo pics handy? Logan: ALINIMB Dean: ?? Me: ?? Garrett: At Least It’s Not In My Butt. I snort to myself, because I’m starting to piece it together. Logan: Nice, G! U got that on the first try! Garrett: We spend too much time 2gether. Me: PLEASE tell me u caught D playing w/ dildos. Logan: Sure did. Dean is quick to object again. I HAD A GIRL OVER! The guys and I rag on him for a couple more minutes, but I have to stop when Fitzy stumbles into the bathroom and shoves me aside. He’s got crazy bedhead and he’s buck-naked. “Gotta piss,” he mumbles. “Mornin’, sunshine,” I say cheerfully. “Want me to make you some coffee?” “God. Yes. Please.” Chuckling, I duck out of the bathroom and walk the four or so steps into his kitchenette. When he finally emerges, I shove a cup of coffee in his hand, sip my own, and say, “Dean shoved a dildo up his ass last night.” Fitzy nods. “Makes sense.” I snicker mid-sip. Coffee spills over the rim of my cup. “It really does, huh?

I brushed my teeth like a crazed lunatic as I examined myself in the mirror. Why couldn’t I look the women in commercials who wake up in a bed with ironed sheets and a dewy complexion with their hair perfectly tousled? I wasn’t fit for human eyes, let alone the piercing eyes of the sexy, magnetic Marlboro Man, who by now was walking up the stairs to my bedroom. I could hear the clomping of his boots. The boots were in my bedroom by now, and so was the gravelly voice attached to them. “Hey,” I heard him say. I patted an ice-cold washcloth on my face and said ten Hail Marys, incredulous that I would yet again find myself trapped in the prison of a bathroom with Marlboro Man, my cowboy love, on the other side of the door. What in the world was he doing there? Didn’t he have some cows to wrangle? Some fence to fix? It was broad daylight; didn’t he have a ranch to run? I needed to speak to him about his work ethic. “Oh, hello,” I responded through the door, ransacking the hamper in my bathroom for something, anything better than the sacrilege that adorned my body. Didn’t I have any respect for myself? I heard Marlboro Man laugh quietly. “What’re you doing in there?” I found my favorite pair of faded, soft jeans. “Hiding,” I replied, stepping into them and buttoning the waist. “Well, c’mere,” he said softly. My jeans were damp from sitting in the hamper next to a wet washcloth for two days, and the best top I could find was a cardinal and gold FIGHT ON! T-shirt from my ‘SC days. It wasn’t dingy, and it didn’t smell. That was the best I could do at the time. Oh, how far I’d fallen from the black heels and glitz of Los Angeles. Accepting defeat, I shrugged and swung open the door. He was standing there, smiling. His impish grin jumped out and grabbed me, as it always did. “Well, good morning!” he said, wrapping his arms around my waist. His lips settled on my neck. I was glad I’d spritzed myself with Giorgio. “Good morning,” I whispered back, a slight edge to my voice. Equal parts embarrassed at my puffy eyes and at the fact that I’d slept so late that day, I kept hugging him tightly, hoping against hope he’d never let go and never back up enough to get a good, long look at me. Maybe if we just stood there for fifty years or so, wrinkles would eventually shield my puffiness. “So,” Marlboro Man said. “What have you been doing all day?” I hesitated for a moment, then launched into a full-scale monologue. “Well, of course I had my usual twenty-mile run, then I went on a hike and then I read The Iliad. Twice. You don’t even want to know the rest. It’ll make you tired just hearing about it.” “Uh-huh,” he said, his blue-green eyes fixed on mine. I melted in his arms once again. It happened any time, every time, he held me. He kissed me, despite my gold FIGHT ON! T-shirt. My eyes were closed, and I was in a black hole, a vortex of romance, existing in something other than a human body. I floated on vapors. Marlboro Man whispered in my ear, “So…,” and his grip around my waist tightened. And then, in an instant, I plunged back to earth, back to my bedroom, and landed with a loud thud on the floor. “R-R-R-R-Ree?” A thundering voice entered the room. It was my brother Mike. And he was barreling toward Marlboro Man and me, his arms outstretched. “Hey!” Mike yelled. “W-w-w-what are you guys doin’?” And before either of us knew it, Mike’s arms were around us both, holding us in a great big bear hug. “Well, hi, Mike,” Marlboro Man said, clearly trying to reconcile the fact that my adult brother had his arms around him. It wasn’t awkward for me; it was just annoying. Mike had interrupted our moment. He was always doing that.

So this is where the great Jace Dawson grew up, huh?” “It is,” Jace replies. “What do you think?” His voice is teasing, but there’s a slight undercurrent of uncertainty I’m surprised I detect. “I love it,” I tell him honestly. “Definitely an improvement from my double in Kennedy Hall.” And much homier than the palace I grew up in.

The boys walked to Chet’s jalopy, nicknamed Queen, parked in the station lot. The Queen had been painted a brilliant yellow, and “souped up” by Chet during one of the periods when engines were his hobby. It was a familiar and amusing sight around the streets of Bayport. “She’s not fancy, but she gets around pretty quick,” Chet often maintained stoutly. “I wouldn’t trade her for all the fancy cars in the showrooms.” “Some adjustment!” Joe grimaced. “Think we’ll get to town in one piece?” “Huh!” Chet snorted. “You don’t appreciate great mechanical genius when you see it!” In the business center of Bayport, the boys found traffic heavy. Fortunately, Chet found a parking spot across the street from the Scientific Specialties Store and swung the car neatly into the space. “See what I mean?” he asked. “Good old Queen. And boy, I can’t wait to start working with that microscope!” Chet exclaimed as the three boys got out and walked to the corner. “All bugs beware.” Joe grinned. “You ought to be a whiz in science class next year,” Frank said while they waited for the light to change.

It was Shadow and his clones, dancing in complete unison. “W-whaaaat?” I said. They were totally in sync while dancing in swift, crisp movements to the rhythm of the music. It was quite amazing to watch, actually. “Wow…” I said. Then Shadow spotted my head peeking through a gap in the crowd, and he stopped abruptly. The entire crowd moaned as Shadow’s clones poofed and disappeared. “Aw, no, don’t stop,” said a villager. “Keep dancing! You’re awesome!” said another. But Shadow quickly turned to address me. “Steve! This… isn’t what it looks like.” I chuckled. “It looks like you were having fun.” “No, I was… testing the duration of my clones.” “Oh, uh, okay, whatever you say.” “Let us proceed to business,” he said right away. “Um, sure, unless you’d rather keep dancing.” Shadow shook his head. “I told you. I was—” “Uh-huh, testing the duration of your clones. I know, I know,” I said and smiled.   The tier 2 nightwing nodded. “Yes. Exactly that. Please lead the way.” I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. “Alright.

What is it?” “Ah…I’m but feeling a little glum.” “Huh?” “I’ve come to realize just how hopeless I truly am.” “This is all because Elliot shot his mouth off before…” “You’re sayin’ it’s my fault!?” “You have a bad habit of saying what you want to say without regard for the other person’s circumstances.” “W-well, that may be, but still…!” “I…I’ve been stuck in the same place for ages. Since that day…I’ve never been able to move forward…and I’m ashamed of it. I feel so frustrated..!” “Just how dumb are you? Like Leo said, I don’t know you’re deal, but…but you came to the ‘realization,’ right? So—! At that moment you’d already taken a step forward! Now do what you want from here on! Whether you keep on going, or turn back…or go another way—it’s all up to you!

What is it?” “Ah…I’m but feeling a little glum.” “Huh?” “I’ve come to realize just how hopeless I truly am.” “This is all because Elliot shot his mouth off before…” “You’re sayin’ it’s my fault!?” “You have a bad habit of saying what you want to say without regard for the other person’s circumstances.” “W-well, that may be, but still…!” “I…I’ve been stuck in the same place for ages. Since that day…I’ve never been able to move forward…and I’m ashamed of it. I feel so frustrated..!” “Just how dumb are you? Like Leo said, I don’t know your deal, but…but you came to the ‘realization,’ right? So—! At that moment you’d already taken a step forward! Now do what you want from here on! Whether you keep on going, or turn back…or go another way—it’s all up to you!

It is not enough that you see things from that person’s perspective or understand what they are feeling. You also have to visibly confirm to the speaker that you are listening. There are multiple ways to do this. The easiest one is to vocalize your reactions with phrases like “Wow, that’s wonderful!” or “I’m sad to hear about that,” or “That sucks. I can see why you’re frustrated!” But what if the person’s message or feelings are unclear or you don’t know how to react out of fear of being misunderstood as indifferent? You can easily confirm that you are paying attention by nodding or using filler words like “mm-hmm” or “uh-huh.” The goal here is to assure the speaker that they have your undivided attention and that you are following their narrative. This is important in situations where the person is not only telling a story but giving you instructions for performing certain things.

Uh-oh, I forgot about the whole saying grace aspect of Thanksgiving. I watch Dad closely as hands begin to link around the table. Will he go along? Kyle snatches Dad’s left hand. I exhale in relief as he doesn’t pull away, and I pick up his right. When the circle is fully linked, Betty begins. “Dear Lord, we just want to thank you for the glory and power of your amazing works in bringing us such a magnificent dinner this year….. “Uh-huh.” Vonda and Wesley murmur an affirmation. I should have known this wouldn’t be the quick and tidy Episcopal grace of my grandmother’s table. I cast a furtive glance from under my bangs. How’s Dad holding up? Everyone else is looking down, but Dad is studying Betty intently. “…and Lord, we want to offer up praise for gathering in so many of your lambs that we thought might be lost, but they ain’t lost no more…” “Praise Jesus!” Vonda shouts. Ty and Marcus manage to look both embarrassed and grateful. Dad’s gaze hasn’t left Betty’s face. I’m hoping Betty might be winding down, but she seems to be gathering more steam. “…and Lord we want to shout our praise for sending us the gift of a woman who opened up her home to us today and who gave our Ty a second chance and that would be your sweet child, Audrey…” “Shout it out!’ Vonda calls. “Uh-huh,” the rest of the guests murmur. Dad is silent. I feel his fingers twitch in my hand. Poor little Kyle is ready to face-plant into the mashed potatoes as Betty takes yet another breath. “Lord, ain’t none of us know what tomorrow will bring. Might be joy, might be pain. We try to walk on a righteous path, Lord, but let’s face it, we all sinners and we probably gonna stray. But we know you gonna forgive us. That’s what keeps us goin’. Brothers and sisters, believe the good news—we are forgiven!” Silence shimmers and twists before us. I can’t look up. “Amen.

Then thank God for a sandstorm, huh?” “Indeed and to His Blessed Mother who heard my prayers.

I bet you have a girlfriend or two, eh?" "Huh? Uh... no!" "Why not?" "Why not? W-well, uh... I guess I'm just not, y'know... ready for all that romance stuff? It's a lot to handle..." Oh my gosh, he's actually getting the better of Soma? "Aww, aren't you a shy one? But, y'know? For someone who's taken the First Seat, that just won't do. I tell ya what! As a special favor, I'll give you a little advice- a trick to becoming a better chef." "A trick?" "See... you want to find that someone special. One who means so much... you'll want to give her the best food you've ever made.

Yukihira." "Yo. So, uh, what're you doin' out here, Nakiri?" "Hm? Oh, nothing much. Just enjoying the night air. What about you?" "Huh? Me? Um, I was, uh... wait, why did I come out here again?" "Hee hee! Really? Forgetful much? *giggle*" "Y'know? You should laugh more often. You're prettier when you do." "W-WHAAAAA?! I expect such talk from Yoshino, but now you of all people?!"It's just that I'm so used to seeing you looking all scowly or snapping in anger all the time, y'know?" "Ugh! Enough of this already. You're the last person I want to hear any of that romance nonsense from, Yukihira. We're students. Our job is to study- to cook! We're too busy with important things to bother with trivialities like love!" "Yeah, you said it! Eesh! I mean, right now I've gotta focus on passing this darn test." "Oh, I'm sure you'll be all right, Yukihira. You can overcome every obstacle put in front of you. You always have... and you always will." "Heh heh! You got that right! And once that's outta the way, I'll get right back to challenging you!" "Bring it on. Come at me with all that you have, and I will crush you as I always do." "Nya ha haha! You haven't changed a bit! Even now that you're Dean, you're still the old you." "Wha?! O-of course I am! Who else would I be?

Y'know, suddenly I'm in the mood for salmon roe." "Huh? W-where did that come from?" "C'mon, ain't they similar?" "Not in the least! Sheesh! Do you not have any appreciation for the beauty of the scenery around us? 'Bread is better than the song of birds,' indeed. Goodness gracious." "Hey! That's not what I meant. I do think the scenery is pretty. It's just that noshing on these salmon-skin crisps made me think of it, that's all." "Oh goodness. The strange places your mind goes. *giggle*" That's weird. Before, all it took was the mere mention of Yukihira's name or a glimpse of his face to utterly ruin my mood. Realizing that he's the son of Chef Saiba, the one man I admire most, felt as if the precious memories of my youth were suddenly tarnished. Yet here I am, sitting and chatting with him in this small cabin... And honestly... ... it isn't all that bad.