#HELLLLLLLOOOOOO

[mattymartin]

↳ SIDNEY CROSBY IN LAS VEGAS | 6.28.25

[distortedheart]

HELLO

[reckless-rider]

:)

:DDD

[astrangergivingthestrangewelcome]

I'm not even a Damar girlie really but the scene where his reaction to Weyoun #x death is to burst out laughing and then when Weyoun #x+1 shows up his fucking "well hellllllloooooo" is so perfect and iconic, do Casey Biggs and Jeffrey Combs understand that that scene lives in my head rent free.

[wallflowerwritesstuff]

You Chose: Rafayel

border credit goes to cafekitsune here on tumblr 🖤

Getting home had been surprisingly tame, the night passing without much issue. 

The morning, however, was the polar opposite, the pain causing you to remain in the same position despite how uncomfortable it had become. You powered up your phone, having allowed it to die last night after your shower without realizing. 

Then came the messages. 

Ding. 

Ding. 

Ding, Ding Di—

You snatch the phone from your bedside table with a whimper, finding that anger wasn’t appropriate when you could barely move. 

So, slowly, you unlock your phone and peer at your texts, responding to each in order until you get to the most recent from a contact that makes you snicker inwardly. 

-0-0-0-

hey

hey

hey 

hellllllloooooo? you aren’t ignoring my texts now are you miss bodyguard? 

have a good night. we can talk in the morning. 

its morning you know. i’ll come over if you keep ignoring me. i mean it!

alright. bet.

-0-0-0-

It only takes your read receipt popping up before you receive an incoming call from Catastrosea, your head rolling as you move onto your back. Rafayel’s voice comes through immediately, beginning with a soft gasp and click of his tongue. 

Ever the dramatic one. 

“At least you had the decency to pick my call up since you’ve been avoiding my texts,” he says, sounding offended, a small chuckle following the words. “Just kidding, I know you Hunters are always off being good samaritans or whatever. But you are still my bodyguard, you know. How am I meant to go to events without my trusty protector making sure little ol’ me is safe?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, shutting your eyes again and breathing through the ache building in your temples. “Sorry.” 

Rafayel pauses on the other line. “Woah, you sound….” 

You can hear the ‘awful’ wanting to roll off his tongue, but instead, the sound of rustling is heard along with a soft ‘ow~’ and something falling. You perk up, on high alert until he mumbles about stepping on supplies, a small smile forming on your lips. 

You weren’t the only klutz, apparently. 

“You alright?” you whisper, earning a huff from the line. 

“Are you sure you’re in a position to ask me that? I nearly thought someone stole your phone with how you sound right now,” he says as you frown. 

“In bed,” you respond, not adding the and that’s where I’ll be for the next 3-5 business days for the sake of sparing him concern. 

“What a surprise for someone as active as yourself. Not feeling well?”

You hesitate to answer, the slight rustling sound seeming to remain constant as you chewed on your lower lip. “...just wanted a change of routine, I guess.” 

“Right,” he answered, not believing you for a second but not arguing. “On a scale from cat scratch to completely bodied, what state are you in right now?” 

You laugh, but then you suck in a breath and curl into yourself. “Guess.”

“Completely bodied from that pitiful little whimper of yours. I gotcha,” he says too calmly, and you wonder if he regrets calling right now. He had probably been having a rather decent afternoon considering how jovial he’d sounded, but now he was awfully quiet on the other line. His mood had to have soured, but you had a hard time imagining he cared so much about your life to have it affect his own. 

It was nice to imagine, at least.

Someone was knocking on your door like they wanted to tear it down. You hear a voice as you get closer, yawning as you tap on your door to see a screen pop up, revealing exactly who you thought it’d be, though he seemed to have brought company.

“Don’t scratch me or so help me, you little terror—!”

Your eyes light up as you open the door to meet a familiar pair of eyes. 

Rafayel, with a cat in hand, pauses the moment he sees you. There is a flash of something you don’t quite recognize coming from him, but then he sniffs and tilts his head. 

“Woof. You look even worse than you sound. It’s a great thing I’m here. I have a fantastic bedside manner.” 

You lean against the doorway, managing a small smile despite your vision feeling like it was beginning to double. “Really? Because most professionals wouldn’t bark at their patients and say they look awful,” you reply, the cat jumping out of his arms to circle your ankles, purring gently. You feel your spirits lift ever so slightly, leaning down slowly as the cat sniffs your hand before shoving their head beneath it as if asking for your touch. “Just a bit of advice from someone with actual bedside manner.” 

Rafayel brought a hand up to his chin, staring up at the ceiling before nodding once. “Hm, advice accepted, but as for that second part, I’d like to think someone with a bedside manner would know better than to bring me a singular apple when I end up hospitalized,” he sighs, staring down with a mischievous glint. 

“It was the last and best apple!” you defend, feeling a bit of spirit return at the fact you had to constantly defend your poor apple—especially considering he had still eaten it! 

“Yes, yes, I thank it for its sacrifice,” he brushes off with the wave of a hand, leaning down to match your level. “You seem more happy to see the walking weapon than you do me. How rude,” he mumbles into his knees as you snort. 

“Haven’t you ever heard of therapy dogs? Well, cats have the same effect,” you insist.

He follows you when you attempt to stand, reaching out when you stumble with a small wince. Your lip stings when you come to, the realization you have sunken your teeth into it making him tense. 

“‘M fine,” you murmur, but when you turn and nearly trip over your own feet, you hear him whisper something under his breath before feeling something warm against your back. “When did you…?” you ask in confusion, brow furrowing before smoothening out when the small action caused a sharp pain to shoot across from one temple to the other. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rafayel mimics from your earlier conversation, voice right beside your ear. The frown on his lips deepens as he looks around your apartment, searching. “Looks like I came at just the right time, miss bodyguard. I’m going to lift you, so brace yourself.”

Surprisingly, he actually gives you time to do so, and so you turn enough to grip the front of his shirt as the world goes blurry again despite his slow speed. 

Maybe that head injury of yours was worse than you thought. You had been cleared and even waited to sleep as you were told, but a check-up may not be the worst idea. You did tell yourself you would go to the hospital if anything got worse. 

A hand touches your forehead, and it’s then you realize you are lying on your couch, Rafayel sitting on the floor beside you with an unreadable expression. It felt familiar in a way, though when he caught you staring, he smiled and tilted his head. 

“Admiring me only when you have a head injury? Should I be offended?” 

“You should be quiet,” you say, lacking the heat that would have made such a demand an insult. 

“Oh? I could always leave, but the terror would have to come with me,” he points out, moving to stand as you shoot up to grab him, whimpering as your head and body form an alliance to try and send you back into blissful unconsciousness. 

“Gosh, no need to hurt yourself over a joke. I wouldn’t take them with me,” he teases, but his smile has become somewhat forced as he helps you return to your previous position. You want to say that you would want them both to stay, but the words jumble in your brain as he speaks again. “Stay here, will you? I have the feeling you won’t be conscious long if you keep moving so suddenly like that.” 

The rest of the day is somewhat of a blur, you coming to in the early evening when the medicine finally kicks in. You open your eyes, your sight still dark until you remove the damp towel from your face. There is a soft purring on your belly, your hand moving to pet the sleeping cat gently. The lights are all off, and Rafayel sitting on the floor where you’d seen him earlier. He had some pieces of paper in front of him, a pencil tucked behind his ear as he pursed his lips. 

Not wanting to disturb him, you watch quietly, every scratch of charcoal against paper paired with the soft rumbles of the cat’s snores managing to lull you back to sleep. 

Before you could sink completely, you whisper a small thank you, not seeing the expression on Rafayel’s face grow conflicted, a mixture of frustration and concern unable to be hidden behind jokes and smiles. 

“I don’t want your thanks, I want you to be more careful,” he mutters, the words falling on deaf ears, floating into the air before fading entirely. 

When you wake, it’s the next morning and there’s a note on your coffee table along with a cute cartoon sketch of Rafayel crying and holding his hand while the orange cat licks his paw. 

Thomas threw a fit about me disappearing. We'll be back. I won't make you wait. Promise.

-R

Want to explore some of the other routes?

Click here to return to the main post for a refresher.

Or, pick your other favorite love interest below:

Xavier

Zayne

Rafayel

Sylus

[whatiswhump]

Shitty corrupt mental hospital is good but have you considered a good mental hospital and just a really mentally unwell patient. They try their best and do everything right but at the end of the day all anybody can do is try to slightly raise (or even just maintain) their quality of life. It’s well known that they’re never going to get better, always going to be stuck in the haze of disassociation and psychosis. Bouncing back and forth between extreme guilt for the trouble they cause as a helpless case and fury at the doctors for keeping them here even if they deep down know this is the best place for them to be.

That’s my favorite

Hellllllloooooo I’ve been writing this one for AWHILE (probably 1.5 years). So here you go :)

Agnes, part 1

“-I am fine. I am just here to get something to stop what's going on.”

She leaned on the window ledge glaring down the secretary with pink rhinestone glasses.

“Name and date of birth?” the woman replied flatly as she looked down at her computer screen.

Agnes supplied it hurriedly but the receptionist continued to stare at the screen, “You’re not coming up hon, is it spelled K-I-”

“-No I wouldn’t come up. I already told you, I’m not a patient here.”

“And you want to see a doctor? Is it an emergency?” She lowered her glasses to look at Agnes for the first time.

“No- yes- I am fine but I need some kind of prescription so I can get this under control. I don’t have time for this.”

“What do you need to get under control hon?” The receptionist had bright pink lipstick to match her glasses. 

What Agnes was asking for was obvious, how dense could this woman be? 

She just wanted a goddamn pill or two to fix her so she could stop this. She WAS being responsible. She wasn’t going to continue self medicating… Alcohol only drowned out the voices for so long and she couldn’t think properly on the rest of the options.

“Look, can I just speak to a physician’s assistant? That’d be okay too.”

“In order to be admitted, you have to speak to a doctor, hon.”

“You don’t get it- I don’t want to be admitted- I just want to get a prescription and to leave. I already told you, I don’t have time for this.”

The lady gave her a practiced arched look, then leaned over to another receptionist (all of which had already looked over by now) and said something to her holding up a sheet of paper to block Agnes from seeing her mouth. 

The other receptionist raised her eyebrows and then nodded. Her own ball of fun looked back to her, “Okay hun, just take a seat then and I’ll see what we can do.”

Agnes stood there a moment longer staring her down, unsatisfied by the directive. 

“Take a seat ma’am.”

She scowled one last time then turned back to all of the stares of the waiting area. She quickly zeroed in on an empty section of chairs while trying to ignore the prying eyes as she rushed to sit down.

She tried to look at her phone but it was dead. Right. She hadn’t charged it in days.

She swore under her breath and tried to slide it back into her pocket but missed and it clattered onto the floor with a distinctive shattering sound. 

The last thing she needed right now, someone in the room said harshly. She looked up, alarmed and embarrassed but no one was looking at her now. 

Right. That’s why she was here, how could she ever forget. It made her angry beyond reason… this thing. Those things.

She got on the floor to fish the utterly fucked phone out from below an outdated magazine covered side table. 

“Miss Kitt?”

She jumped out of her skin and hit her head on the underside of the table and swore. Then before retracting herself she reached for the phone… yes… it was shattered.

“Miss Agnes Kitt?”

“One sec, god. I’m just getting my phone.”

She righted herself on the ground to look up to an un-welcomed sight. There were two men in royal blue scrubs looking down at her. 

“That phone looks pretty messed up- you’re bleeding from it-” One of them not unkindly pointed out.

“Why don’t you come with us? We can bandage you up, hm?”

“No, I just want to see a PA and then go, my hand’s fine.” She gripped it tighter, a shard of the screen digging into her palm. She didn’t move from where she was, sensing this was not going the right way. 

The receptionist said something, she must’ve.

“It’s okay. You can see one if you come back with us.”

“No- no thank you-” Something was definitely wrong. She couldn’t place exactly what. 

The blood in her head was rushing as it had been for days, making everything vivid and fuzzy at once, an exhausting contradiction.

“Miss Kitt, don’t worry, nothing bad will happen-”

The two at that moment leaned down in unison to help her up, lifting her by the upper arms. 

Agnes was frozen, surprised that they were touching her without permission. They were acting like she didn’t have a choice now.

“Now let’s let go of the phone. We can come back for it later.”

“No-” She managed to get out weakly before one of them was prying it out of her hand. He was stronger. 

They already had gloves on. Why did they already have gloves on?

But it was already gone and now hands were on both of her arms leading her to the double doors beyond the waiting room. 

She wanted to yell or maybe rip her arms out of their grips. She hadn’t agreed to this. But she couldn’t bring herself to- she’d never- well, she’d never fought anyone- never needed to resist anyone.

“It’s okay, Miss Kitt. You’re alright.” one of them said when she momentarily protested as they went through the doors. They were moving so quickly and their grips in unison tightened when she weakly tried to pull away, signaling again that this was not something she could fight.

She began again, “I just wanted to-” but fell off, sensing that they were past the point of what she wanted.

“Don’t worry, we’re here to help.” One of them assured once again as she was led down what seemed like a maze of hallways too quickly for her to comprehend.

“-She’s bleeding all over the hall.”

“Angie will wrap her up during in-take,” The other replied and they turned into a doorway.

She woozily looked down and indeed saw the trail of blood. Was that her? Was she really bleeding that badly?

“Here, sweetie, sit down here-” A woman appeared out of nowhere.

The men gently helped her through a doorway and onto a paper covered exam bench. There was one gloved hand inspecting her own. Another taking her pulse.  Too many to keep track of. There were too many people. Where was her phone? This wasn’t what she had come here for-

“You upset, dear?” The matronly voice broke her out of the overwhelming deluge of attention they had set upon her. 

“I am not- I’m not supposed to be here- I just came for a prescription.” She practically sobbed out, unable to keep a level voice. She didn’t feel like herself at all.

“A prescription for what?” The nurse prompted.

“I don’t know! Something to help! I am okay, I am okay- I just need something so I can go home.” She tried to pull her hand out of the grip it was in but to her alarm, it was being held tight.

Someone else nodded- someone- 

Another woman was suddenly on her other side and lifting her shirt sleeve.

“This is just something to help calm you down sweetheart.”

Agnes ripped her arm out of the nurse’s vicinity more violently, holding it safe to her chest, “No-no-no. I don’t want anything-”

Someone called out “Combative patient!” like they were announcing their lunch order.

And just like that the two men were back, crowding what felt like an already overrun room.

This time no one asked her anything. Instead they all seemed to silently understand the objective.

“This won’t hurt, hon. You need this-”

She cried out and finally began to struggle more urgently when the men firmly pressed her down onto the table. She fought in earnest now but it still wasn’t enough. 

The already raised sleeve was adjusted and then a simple pin prick. 

“There you go. Good, nice and easy,” Agnes looked up at the orderly still above her holding her down into the cushioned bench. He grimaced a weak smile- perhaps encouragingly, “Don’t worry. I promise this will make it easier.”

Most of the staff watched her without meeting her eyes. Waiting for the inevitable surrender of the patient. And sure enough it came, after a few more moments of ineffectual struggling, Agnes felt her limbs grow heavier and her vision become blurry.

As quick as they came the hands went away and she was moved back into sitting. She stayed in the position like a mannequin. Distantly, she felt something wet and warm, she looked down and saw lots of red, it was covering her now. 

“Oh you poor thing-” someone tisked.

“And she just did this in the waiting room?”

“Mhm, before John and I could go get her once Nancy called us in.”

“And it was on purpose?”

“Actually I’m not sure-“

Her hand was taken and something was done with it, wrapping and white and stinging. Someone helped her arms go above her head and began to take her shirt off.

“Here hon, let’s get these bloody clothes off.” 

More hands helped her stand to step out of her jeans.

“She can get a better shower later once she settles in.”

She wasn’t sure why she wasn’t speaking or doing anything. She wished she would.

“Can you go across the hall and get a size medium gown, Sheryl?”

More fabric, arms out, “That’s better isn’t it.” Someone was smiling at her.

“I’ll schedule Dr. Groves to see her once the sedative lightens in a few hours. She can get assigned a room in the meantime. Might be best to start with restraints. Don’t want her to injure herself any more before we get meds straightened out.”

—

“Hey there-”

Agnes blinked a few times. Was she in her bed? This was a new voice…

“Agnes Kitt?”

The voice was louder. The room was white. This was not her own bed. Her body immediately tried to shoot up as if out of a nightmare. But… she couldn’t. There were straps. On each of her limbs and, most obviously, across her chest.

“Miss Kitt, it’s alright. You’re at White Pines Psychiatric Center. You came to us this morning and you were admitted.”

Agnes could only stare for a moment- taking her longer than she should have to process the man’s words before words came to her- “No- no. This-isn’t-right. I don’t need to be here. I did not give permission-”

“No, indeed, you did not give permission. However, you were deemed to be in an acute state of distress and a danger to yourself. This means we had a responsibility to admit you to keep you safe.”

“A danger to myself?” She shot back in disbelief, “I was helping myself. I just want to talk to a doctor and get a prescription. I can’t stay here.”

The man remained unperturbed, not rising to her emotion, “Miss Kitt, have you ever been hospitalized for mental health?”

“What- no. Why am I in these? This can’t be legal,” She tugged on her wrists, balling her fists as she did it. Red began to leech through the wrapping on her hand, “And I need my phone, I need to make a call.”

“No phones in the first 72 hours. But I am happy to call whoever you would like to inform them on what is going on if you would like me to.”

“What? You’ve got to be kidding. I can’t be kept prisoner here… This can’t be legal!” She repeated.

“Miss Kitt, I must insist you calm yourself. You’ve opened your wound.” The man was standing now but she wouldn’t stop struggling with the ridiculous padded cuffs. It was all so absurd. What was this? A poorly produced movie? Blood was now stainting the sheets. That at least was satisfying.

“Just let me out!” She sobbed in frustration, unaware of how childlike she sounded.

The man was pressing a button on the wall. 

Suddenly the room was full and there were too many people around her. Not again. Not again…

“Give her another 5 of haloperidol. Then we better go ahead and get her on a drip of diazepam.”

“Oh that poor hand. She’s a bleeder-”

Hands were on her shoulders, wrists and legs.

“Get off! Get off!” She sobbed, clenching her eyes shut and twisting her head to the side, the only thing she could move. 

“Bleeder and a fighter-” Someone else added wryly.

“Steady her arm.”

Another pin prick. The delayed release of the grips…

Tears ran down her hot cheeks and she felt her muscles slackening again.

The man from before was back in her line of vision, “It’s alright Agnes, you’re safe. We can help you.”

She could only clench her eyes shut once again and hope that this was a nightmare she would wake up from the next time she opened them.

[dangermousie]

Hello?

HELLLLLLLOOOOOO?

They know exactly what they are doing.

@aysekira I am in your debt 😝😍

[thereaderinsertlady]

I saw you had King Boo in the tags for 'Quest Tober. So, I'd like to make a request of either King Boo and his boos decorating the mansion or place for Halloween scares or could be an x reader type.

Hellllllloooooo this is a bit late & shooort but oh wellb yhfudjc- here's the link on ao3 and I hope you enjoy.

King Boo x Reader - Rest

You hummed a merry tune under your breath while hanging a string of fake spiders along the wall, feeling very soothed. Putting up decorations with the Boos was one of your most favorite things to do. Fall decorations, Christmas decorations– all of it was fun to do. Though, your most favorite decoration was the Halloween decor, of which was mostly stored in the attic.

As you carefully arranged the spiders, you couldn't help but smile at the memories that each decoration held. The Boos, your quirky, large yet lovable family, had a tradition of going all out for every holiday, but Halloween was the crown jewel. After all, the Boos were ghosts. 

Next came the pumpkins, a vibrant contrast to the otherwise dark decor. You and the smaller Boos meticulously carved intricate faces and designs, setting them aglow with flickering candles. The mansion’s halls danced with the warm, golden light, casting playful shadows on the walls. There were already a few sitting outside on the porch, but a few usually went inside since there were far too many.

Once you were done, you glanced around… before pouting, realizing that there were a few more boxes left in the attic. You shuffled off, waving to a few Boos– who either waved in return or shyly hid behind their nubs. Although you’ve been with them for several years now, there were still a few Boos that haven’t grown adjusted to you quite yet. 

Just before you were about to reach the small section of stairs that led up into the attic, you noticed that the King of all Boos, your lover… was on a little couch in the hall, seeming like a deflated beach ball. If that wasn’t abnormal enough, he was laying next to a few small Boos, his eyes closed.

You faltered a little, standing there with wide eyes. KB almost never was physically affectionate. Maybe he was low on energy? 

Whatever the case was, you… weren’t sure what to do. Was he even ‘asleep?’ Ghosts couldn’t really sleep like normal mortals, but they could go into a sort of… trance…

You stared for a moment longer, glancing up at the attic. Bringing down boxes would be a bit too loud… You’d have to bring them down later, when he wasn’t resting.

After debating with yourself mentally, you quietly approached KB and the small Boos, careful not to disturb them. Gently, you reached out and ran your fingers through KB's translucent form. He stirred, his misty figure shifting slightly, but he didn't wake. It seemed he was indeed in some sort of restful state.

With a soft smile, you settled down beside him on the small couch, making sure not to disturb the little Boos snuggled against him. You watched the gentle rise and fall of KB's form, feeling a warmth in your heart that you rarely got to experience with him.

This was a rare moment of vulnerability for KB, and you cherished it. You leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his ethereal form. "Thank you for all your hard work, my dear King of Boos," you whispered, your voice a tender caress. 

As if in response, KB let out a contented sigh, a soft, soothing sound that mingled with the quiet hum of the mansion. It seemed he was aware of your presence on some level, even in this semi-conscious state.

You sat there for a while, simply enjoying the moment of closeness. Though, not wanting to ‘wake’ him, you eventually walked off giddily, going to busy yourself with something else.  

[rins-batcave]

helllllloooo

Hellllllloooooo how are you??????????????

[gaycavilltheorists-blog]

Exactly! How come the baby was used as THE promoter of their relationship and Henry’s “ohh look I’m becoming a father” to absolute silence. And as you said shug, who leaves their baby behind? Someone asked in the comment section who’s pushing the stroller (a totally normal question) and look what they say “why does mama always have to push it?”

First of all why not ONCE henry? Second what u mean why should she? It’s her first baby. In my family we have alot of babies. And believe me they didn‘t neglected them like these two

Shug, like I said, we're still waiting for the so-called " More to come," and just I case the stans say he didn't say that the interview is on YouTube 😂

So again, I say, " hellllllloooooo more where are you????

[yookoota]

hellllllloooooo :3

Hello Collette. Do you need something?

[intoxicated-daze]

hellllllloooooo 🗣️🗣️🗣️

There is no competition because nobody can be me.

[fish-shaped-mango]

hi

HELLLLLLLOOOOOO

[commander-spader]

GOOOOODBAAAI OLD DEVICE!!!

Howdies Ya'll, merry crisis! i Just Got a Computer!!! gooodbye oooold mobile HELLLLLLLOOOOOO LAPTOP!!! :]

[rose-skunk]

Hellllllloooooo?!!!! Is anyone else hearing this!!!?

[leebuckets]

HELLLLLLLOOOOOO NNNNNUUUUURRRRRSSSSEEE!!

She's an absolute terror for absolute territory