#the one who always made the grade

[front-facing-pokemon]

[cloverpurr]

im really curious to see how the graphic novel is going to handle more violent, brutal scenes like the brightpaw and swiftpaw thing and tigerstar's eventual... gutting. in the graphic novel we see the deaths (or rather the deceased bodies) of redtail, lionheart, and spottedleaf. and we only ever really see them from the back with minimal blood. so im. really curious how theyre going to show the other two since those are very graphic scenes in the books. itd be kind of hard to skirt around it n censor it, especially when both of those events r extremely crucial to the overall arc... although i do get why they don't show full on cat on cat Violence nd death n blood n stuff. these books are for kids. the graphic novel is for kids. plus the graphic novel is a much more different media than text, its a lot more hard hitting when you can actually visually See the violence you're reading about. . . i guess we'll just have to see what happens!

[derpinette]

i need a girl to be tomboys with soon. or i will Die

[july-19th-club]

me age seven being sat down in front of the school’s district child psych lady and being given strange, simple spatial puzzles to solve and then long, complicated worksheets and hammering my way through them at the speed of light while having zero comprehension what their purpose was or why i was here: this is urgent! i have to get a good grade in Weird Puzzles, Or Else, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve,

[weezerlvr228]

flippin boobahs!

[emimayooo]

can everyone be my friend. I’m so fucking good at it.

[adore-gregor]

study smart not hard (altough both is best actually) this saying is so true

[anotherpapercut]

people acting like there isn't still very much an active stigma against cannibas and cannibas users is going to be my joker origin story

when i go to the doctor they still put cannibas use under the tab "substance abuse". not even just substance use. it is fully assumed that people who use cannabis, even as a prescription medication, are abusing it. just because you're friends with a couple of dumbass stoners doesn't mean that we've abandoned the idea as a culture that weed is a bad and scary and dangerous and highly addictive drug that will ruin your life if you use it once

[immamapletreekid]

work anxiety starting before work itself hahahahaahahahahahahhhaha

[snail-studios]

If you remember, what were some of the earliest things you would draw as a child while honing your craft?

Girls. Only ever girls xD even from the age of 5 I would only ever draw them.

[emile-hides]

Another Holiday Season another year of trying to sell you internet randos on my Polar Express Overwatch AU

Hana as Main Character Kid

Lucio as Main Girl Character Kid

Brigitte as Billy

Lena as Fourth Main Character Kid I am making up

Jamison as Annoying Know It All Kid

John “Jack” Francis Morrison as Train Conductor

Gabriel “Reaper” Reyes as Train Ghost

Reinhardt and Torbjorn as Train Engineers

Ana as Santa Clause

That’s it that’s the pitch.

[mymelodyisme]

Just remembered how in fourth grade there was a new girl in our class so I introduced myself and spent the whole day with her so she had a friend and she made new friends the next day and didn’t hang out with me after that,,,,

[floweyyyyyy]

autistic culture is not realizing you were bullied in elementary school until now

[rubberbandballqueen]

looking through my 8th grade science notebook n reflecting on that teacher's style and personality, and man, i think i might cry hahaha

[someonesrealityshifting]

Small thing that breaks my heart:

When I was in third grade, I told this boy that it would be my birthday in four days, and he said, “okay, then I’ll buy you flowers.” Four days later he comes up to me and says, “my mom wouldn’t let me get flowers but I found you this violet in the grass.” That in and of itself was iconic and so so sweet, but it gets better.

A month later, I had to move, and because it was third grade, the teacher made everyone write me letters to say goodbye. His said, “I hope you have so much fun in your new house that you forget about me. I hope that you’re always happy and you never miss us. I’m sorry I never gave you flowers, but I can give you some now.” And he fucking. Drew me flowers.

No, Joey, I never forgot you. You are the reason I have standards in this life, and I’m so grateful to have known you. I hope you’re happy, wherever you are, and I hope that the rest of your days are filled with as much joy as you gave to me. I spilled water on the card about five years ago, and half of it is a a jumbled mess now, but I still have it. It’s the only card I still have.

The funny thing is this dude and I hardly ever interacted. I knew he played football because he was on the town’s kids’ team and my brother was on the middle school team, and I knew he was one of, like, three Joeys in our year. I had a crush on him but obviously never communicated that because it was fucking third grade, but somehow those three interactions imprinted on who I am as a person. I am forever changed by Joey from third grade.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Mattresses, unbeknownst to many, are a lot like cars. Every year new ones roll out, they’re always tweaking and innovating and you’ll never find the same one you loved decades ago when buying a new one.

Where I sold mattresses had a three month return or exchange program for this reason. New beds take a while to break in, and they’re a big expense. Your body is used to the old one. So we made sure people were loving it. If a bed got returned we’d take it back, sanitize and clean it, then sell it again on clearance.

To sell these we always had to disclose what clearance meant to customers, and they had to sign that they knew what they were getting. (FYI, not every company is as… forthright about the used bed situation)

In clearance we had beds that were floor models, we had returns, and more rarely we had old models whose line had been discontinued. These clearance beds were always final sale, so a bed could only be sold twice.

Now, the manager at the store I was working at had realized a vital fact. Clearance beds in the warehouse didn’t sell, especially old models that salespeople weren’t familiar with. And even more especially in odd sizes, like twin extra longs. So he set up a split king on the showroom floor to exhibit clearance beds, pulling all those forgotten twin extra longs out onto the showroom.

Almost all of these were brand new discontinued models. Beds I’d never learned in training were exhumed to be displayed. The manufacturers had moved on to new lines and they’d been left behind. Why would he take such in interest in selling old stock, you might wonder? Because we made double commission on the sales margin of clearance beds, and if we’d had a bed long enough they dropped the cost in the system so it was a fucking cash cow to sell these. Even with huge discounts the commissions were wonderful so it was a win win.

When I got started I was jazzed about this program, I was so on board to sell weird old brand new beds and make a ton of money. I had a wonderful older couple come in, looking for a split king adjustable set. This was a white whale sale.

The current clearance models on the floor were a latex mattress that was brand new despite being of an age to start first grade, and a tempurpedic floor model. The couple laid down and it was like magic. They each loved the bed they’d laid down on. They wanted to buy the whole shebang.

I. Was. Thrilled. I told them about the clearance program and what that meant, and they weren’t bothered in the least. I wrote up the sale then dashed into the back, fizzing with excitement to tell my manager what I’d done.

“You sold the death bed?!” He asked in delight.

I pulled up short, my smile freezing in place. “What…?”

“Didn’t you check the notes?”

I hesitated for a long beat then slowly shook my head. You see, dear reader, all beds had a personal history. Every clearance bed had logs written up by the person who took the return, as well as warehouse crew after sanitizing. It helped us know what to expect when selling them. “Wasn’t it just a floor model? You said it was a floor model…”

He slowly shook his head. I checked the notes.

It turned out, it had been sold as a floor model. The first time. But the company had made an exception and taken it back as a return two months later. Why? Because it’s owner had passed away.

I stared at the computer in horror and my manager shrugged. “They signed the clearance form. Technically it was a floor model.”

“We know for a fact that a man died in that bed!”

“What they don’t know can’t haunt them,” he said philosophically.

The man came back a week later for more sheets, utterly delighted to tell me how well they were sleeping. I clamped my teeth down around the secret of the deathbed, choosing to let them love their new bed without the stigma. Only one person would be haunted by that deathbed, and it was me.