Hello,,

PLEASE BE CAREFUL FOR ANYONE WHO USES “BLUEBUFFALO” FOR THEIR DOGS!!

8 months of Genocide and, 15,500 children killed

30,000 orphans

35,000 child amputees ( Gaza has the largest population of child amputees in the world)

and there are people out there still justifying this??? like are you not human enough?

DO NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE!

Nah cause. Death having a phone is basically mothers having a phone. He deadass would stare at the said device like mothers do.

HE WOULD HELP I GOTAA WRITE A SMALL ONESHOT OF THIS IN FACT IM GONNA WRITE THIS JUST FOR YOU CAUSE I NEALY SPAT OUT MY DRINK.

They/ them pronouns small part of my previous death post to those who might see this one first.

“How the hell does that small box work”? The grey wolf asked sitting next to you as you just hung up on your friend from having a small conversation about their partner.

“Oh my phone, I actually don’t know how but it’s easier to communicate then traveling miles for a month to the next state over to tell your friend about the new pair of pants you got”. He chucked at the memory from even when you were born of the many people traveling in the 1800 to deliver a message.

“Well that’s true, but it still makes me wonder about how mortals come up with stuff like this”. You paused and you started to think about it also. “It does, hey why don’t I get you a phone”? You offered. He took a minute to think about it. “Please I’ll help you figure it out”. You said your eyes filling with a bit of excitement of how you could mess with him.

“Alright”. He replied and you smiled at him and simply got up from your couch and grabbed your wallet. “Where are you going”? He asked an eyebrow raised. “To the store to get you a phone I’ll be back in about 30 minutes”. You responded heading out the door. He simply watched as your car drove off. “Aye mortals are so interesting”. He muttered to him self while reaching for the remote. He knew how to work the tv. He’s chose a random channel and waited for you to return.

After what felt like an hour you pulled up into your driveway. As soon as he heard the door shut from your car he was standing near the door. “Sorry that took longer then expected traffic was annoying”. You stated putting your wallet down, he saw the plastic bag hanging from your forearm. “Oh here hold this while I got to the bathroom”. You gave him the bag and ran to your bathroom.

He took the bag and opened it, inside there was a phone, perfume, and a small dog plush. “Why do they need this is they have me”? He slightly grumbled at the dog. Walking back out of the bathroom you grabbed the phone and in wrapped it. You turned it on did all the stuff set him up an apple/ google account.

“Now let me show you the basics”. You showed him the general stuff of how to use the camera, the phone, messages, etc. “now you try take a photo of the plushie”. You said holding the small dog plush up.

He tried to take a photo only for him not to realize that the camera was pointing to him and he took a photo of his face instead. “Send that to me later”. “Mi Amor how do you send photos”? You sigh and help him out with sending you pictures. It’s gonna be a long night.

Sorry it’s not really focused on the main idea I got carried away in the first part forgive me.

Happy valentines day from ur favorite t4t cat couple <3

Keep reading

Muerte/Death x Reader:

Love?

Just a short one. I wanted to write after not being able to for so long, and this'll probably be the only one I'll post after a while because exams are coming and I have, like, 2 bedrooms and an entire loft apartment I need to design + an explanation as to what design principles I chose and why I chose them, all while I'm sick and need to finish my architectural plates. So yeah xD

She's never loved anyone before.

At least not like this.

Before, she used to think that maybe love wasn't meant for her. That it was something that she wouldn't be able to reach out to and fully grasp in her hand, feel it in between her fingertips and feel its welcoming warmth in her palm and press it closely to her beating chest like she was so used to hearing about in books and in stories. That it was only something she could look at from afar and watch as others would be complete with their hold of the feeling of romance so dear that they dared trust it near their heart.

And she wasn't going to lie. She was content with that. She was content with the thought of never finding love like the others. Because maybe, maybe that's not where her life was supposed to go. And yet even though she's told herself that a plethora of times that the words were engraved in her head and in her heart, that it replaced the prayers she muttered to herself in the morning or at night, she still looked at a couple happily holding one another with the burn of wonder and jealousy that the words she had engraved so long in her heart and brain would fade.

How would it feel to have someone you could trust enough with the darkest and most destructive part of you? Trust them enough to hold you so close in a way that you would be treated as the most delicate fine china that they'd ever seen, cup your cheek with the palm of their hand and brush the soft or calloused flat of their thumb against your cheek and feel the love in that single stroke before looking at you in the eye and whisper out those words of reassurance that she's never had the privilege of hearing.

"I love you."

The words that burned through her heart and cracked the thick stone walls she's built around her heart and engraved with the words she's told herself since she had the acceptance of her lack of romance, watch as those walls crack and crumble until she's buried underneath the debris of pain and loneliness she's protected herself from after all these years.

Now, she feels the way his arms wrapped around her form, holding her as if she's the most delicate fine china she never was, feeling him laying his chin atop her head as his evened out breaths were the only sound that mattered in the dark room. She could feel the warmth of his embrace surrounding her with more care than anyone has ever given her in her life and could only lean her head against his chest, too tired of trying to fight away the love he was giving her, too tired of denying herself something that she should be receiving in the first place.

She's never loved anyone like this before. And when she goes to wrap her arm around his form, smell the lingering scent of the smoke of incense mixing with her bath products from the amounts of times he's joined her in the bath before, feel the softness of his fur in between her fingertips and feel the tip of his claws tracing mindless circles on her back, she knew she finally found the comfort of a home.

And though poets will tell people not to think of any person as such because they'll one day turn your comfort into fear, turn that love into hatred, and crush the thought of home from your mind that the sight of comfort would make your insides burn with anguish, she could only look up at his sleeping face, let the smile grace her lips and watch with a strange fascination as to how he'd come to change her life, and give him her full trust that he will remain as her home for as long as he wanted to be, and she knew she'd be doing the same.

🍉Please save my child from death.💔✌️

I write these words to you with my hands trembling and tears streaming down my face. My heart is torn apart, my soul melting with pain, and time is passing like a predatory beast approaching to take my little child away from me. He now lies on a hospital bed, his tiny body trembling, his breath slowly fading under a ventilator. His eyes are half-closed, as if life is escaping him right in front of me, and I am helpless, devastated, unable to save him.

The doctors told me that the only hope to save him is urgent surgery, but they are demanding an amount I cannot afford.

They told me words I never imagined I would hear: "Either you pay immediately

or we will disconnect his ventilator." Imagine, my friend, your child being sentenced to death, not because there is no treatment, but because you do not have the money. Imagine seeing your beloved child, a piece of your soul, having their air sucked out, their hope snatched away, while you stand helpless, your hands empty, your heart screaming without anyone to hear it.

I'm scared... so scared. Every minute that passes robs him of his life, and every moment I spend without help brings me closer to the nightmare I don't even want to think about. Please, my friend, I beg you with every tear I shed, with every cry I hold tight to my chest, help me... save my child.

Any amount, any assistance, any sharing of my story could bring him back to life.

I'm not asking for much. I just ask that my child not be taken away from me before my eyes, that I not live the rest of my life remembering how he died because I didn't have enough money to save him. Please, before it's too late, before everything becomes just a painful memory, don't leave me alone in this horror... Don't let me bury my child.

Please, my friend, I beg you like I've never begged anyone before: Don't let my child die, don't let me live through this hell. Anything, any amount, any sharing of my child's story could be the lifeline that keeps him alive.

I swear to you, there's no more time... Death is getting closer, and I stand here watching without being able to do anything. Please, please, don't let this be the end... Don't let me lose him.

Verified : @90-ghost

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Happiness Will Come To You.

Can I request Death with Life! Reader as a companion BUT, This life is different than the usual view of life being loving and gentle. People's phrasing of "Life is cruel" and Life is basically cold hearted and statue like faced, after all their job is to give a life not guide them through it. Every step they take on ground sprouts a new life forms but the moment they step away plants it starts to wither.

This is gonna be interesting to write but I’ll try my best!

Death with a life! Companion who is the version of “life is cruel”.

I decided to do in head cannon type story I hope your ok with that! It’s also gonna be a bit short as I don’t really know how to write this.

No mention of pronouns.

Yes you were the embodiment of life but you weren’t the “life is beautiful” type. You were the “life is cruel”.

You would give out a life to whatever new being was born and you could care less about them.

Anytime you walk anywhere besides your house you sprout new plants, however when you walk away from them they wither away faster then they sprouted.

Any time you saw a person complaining about how their life sucked you simply said”well my job is to give you life not hold your hand the whole time”.

Every time it makes people confused when you say that or something similar to that.

Death is a 50/50 with how you are, yes he always says that every living thing should value their life but he also gets where you coming from.

Sometimes when he comes back from collecting souls he tells you about people complaining about how it’s not their time and shit like that.

“My only job here is to give life and nothing else and your job is to end Their time”.

“It’s been out jobs for millions, and millions of years we can’t avoid our jobs”. You says once more.

He only sighs and sits down next to you in the chair beside you.

“Yes that is our jobs, but still they should learn to appreciate their lives”. Death adds in.

“They never will, very few living things have actually appreciated their lives”. You retort back at him.

“It’s not my fault when they constantly insult me why should I guide them and hold their hands”? You ask feeling a rage come up on you.

Death has accepted long ago that your gonna be like this till the end of time.

“Your never gonna change are you huh vida”? He sarcastically asks.

“No I will never change the way I think and go about how I think of them”.