i still have the pre final

Below you will find my Academia FAQ. If you still can’t find something feel free to ask! My Study Tips page should be helpful, as well.

Study Strategies

“How should I study for…?”

School Supplies

General College

College Majors and Pre-Career

GPAs and Grades

Studyblr

HELLBENT UPDATE:

Heya everyone, time for some progress updates for the newest video~

We are very close to wrapping up pre-production work.  The animatic to the video is undergoing its final tweaks now.  It’s actually so close to being finalized that we have started actual animation and background production (Just look at sleepy Vivi here, resting up before stuff goes nuts).  I’d say we have about a minute’s worth of BGs and a few tiny scenes with in-progress or mostly done animation in it.

As for me personally, I apologies for being fairly quiet lately.  I am still in the “don’t have a job” camp here but I have been doing some freelance work to make up for it.  As for what it is I am freelancing for, when the stuff I worked on gets released, I’ll let ya’ll know.  I can’t say much right now, but I have a feeling a lot of you know about the series already.

Also, me and @artsyfeathersartsyblog have been discussing the potential of setting up a Patreon.  We’re still tinkering around with what all that would entail. It’d be quite a bit of work but it would be nice for us to have a way to smooth out our production of these videos.

That’s the gist for now though!  We hope to have more to show you before too long!

Thanks for all ya’lls support~

9-14-16

1/100 days of productivity

I’ve finally decided to start the 100 days of productivity challenge! I’m a week into the school year and it’s already starting to get rough so I decided I need some extra motivation! I also decided something else- while I love bullet journaling and the freedom it provides I missed having all of the pages and calendars pre set up so that I can write in far off deadlines immediately. I picked up this large agenda from the sugarpaper line at target and so far I love it! I’m still decorating my spreads like a bullet journal however, so you’ll still see posts like that from me!

Distractions

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader

Time: Pre-Rogue One. [Cassian and Reader are both still in training.]

A/N: I know I have unfilled requests and I haven’t posted any fics in months, but inspiration finally struck after watching Rogue One and I’m just really in love with Cassian? [I’ve been working on this one for a while and I’m quite pleased with how it turned out.]

Summary/Preview:

He takes a step towards you as he speaks, getting dangerously close to completely invading your personal space, for the second time in the span of minutes.

“I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way,” you admit finally, blushing even as you say the words, “I guess I was hoping you’d make a move.”

It’s enough to get a smile out of him, the kind of smile that starts in his eyes and makes his cheeks dimple, the smile that first drew your attention.


Keep reading

My biggest wish for Amonkhet:

I hope we finally get to figure out the motivation behind everything (or even SOME) of the random stuff Nicol Bolas does.

I mean, I get it. He’s a bad dude, and he does bad stuff. But WHY?! The only plot-relevant act he’s done that had a clear motive was merging the shards of Alara (because he wanted to regain some of his godlike Pre-Mending power.)

But we still have no idea why he:
• orchestrated the release of the Eldrazi
• wanted Tezzeret involved with New Phyrexia
• tried to kill Ugin
• put the Raven Man in Liliana’s brain

So yes, I’m sure Amonkhet will show us Nicol Bolas devising dozens of dastardly draconic deeds will diabolical delight… but I hope we also get the merest morsel of malevolent motivation or malignant meaning mixed in too.

Thirteen First Kisses [Prologue]

* based off the mini-series Seven First Kisses

summary: You helped a strange lady and she insisted on thanking you. She grants you a wish to meet the thirteen boys of SEVENTEEN, all of course, with a strange twist–she’ll have them be your first kiss. Little do you know what she just got you into.

genre: AU –> Student!Seventeen || Teacher!Seventeen || Student!Reader

a/n: why am i not studying–honestly, i have no idea :) 

|| PROLOGUE || S.COUPS || JEONGHAN || JOSHUA || JUN || HOSHI || WONWOO || WOOZI || DK || MINGYU || THE8 || SEUNGKWAN || VERNON || DINO || 


You groaned for what seemed like the 10th time that same day, your head buried behind a stack of books. It was finals week, hell week, as some students called it. Despite being a senior, you felt as if you were still only thirteen. You still procrastinated, you didn’t like responsibilities, and most of all, you were still in what your family called the “pre-teen stage,” otherwise known as the stage of being helplessly head-over-heels for people you’ve never met in your life.

“I can’t help myself for loving these losers,” you sighed as you scrolled through your phone. Your cheek was against the hard smooth wood table in the school library and your homework and notes was left forgotten on the side.

“I hate studying,” you muttered to yourself, pouting as you saw nothing interesting on Twitter. Where was the occasional beef that was oh-so fun to read? Where did everyone seem to disappear to during finals week anyway?

Sighing once again, you dropped your phone loudly onto the table, groaning quietly to yourself.

‘I’m hopeless,’ you thought to yourself as you glared at the clock on the wall. Heaving out another breath, you stood from your seat, determined to find some new books to get some actual studying done. As you got out of your seat, your chair scraped against the floor loudly, making your peers glare at you.

“Oh, watch out!” you heard some lady squeak as she narrowly dodged your chair. You turned, your eyes wide with surprise.

“Shoot, sorry!” you helplessly whispered as she dropped the books in her hand. She shook her head, giving you a sweet smile as she hastily grabbed the books.

“No problem,” she muttered, before giving you a slight bow and taking off. You watched her go curiously. She was a small woman, perhaps in her early thirties. Was she the new librarian at your school library? Frowning, you shrugged, pushing in your chair and giving apologetic glances to the people around you. You were about to head toward the bookcases until your foot hit contact with some sort of wallet, kicking it across the room until it collided into a small table.

Raising an eyebrow, you walked forward to pick it up, opening the wallet carefully. You took a look around the room, checking if anyone was going to step forward and claim it, but found it to be silent, as always. Deciding that no one would say anything, you rummaged through the wallet for an ID. It was only when you found an ID did you realize who it belonged to.

“Hey, isn’t this that one lady’s–” you murmured, remembering the woman, who you just bumped into, earlier. You blinked thoughtfully, before turning your head up to search for her.

‘She couldn’t have gone too far,’ you noted as you began wandering around the library in search for the small woman.

“Miss–uh–Jenny?” you timidly called out, trying to read the strange words on her ID card. You heard someone squeak behind you as you called out the name.

“Right here!”

You turned in surprise, jumping at the unexpected response. Again, you met with the strange woman, who smiled at you brightly.

“Um, I think you dropped this,” you whispered, quickly handing her the wallet and her ID card. She hiccuped in surprise before setting down her books at a nearby table.

“Oh my, thank you! I would’ve been screwed if I forgot this behind!” she tittered happily, shoving the wallet in her orange bag she had around her waist. “Thank you so much, (y/n)!”

You smiled politely as she grabbed your hands. 

‘How does she know my name?’

“It’s nothing–”

“How can I thank you?” she asked, her eyes wide with wonder. You stared at her blatantly at her random question.

“Huh?”

She patiently smiled and repeated her question. “How can I thank you? Really, tell me anything. What do you want?”

You shook your head, an awkward smile playing at your lips. “No, no, it’s really fine–”

“Pish-posh,” she snorted, “really, tell me! Anything you want.”

‘Anything?’ you silently thought as you gave her a troubled look. She looked at you expectantly, before she jumped in delight.

“Oh, of course! Wouldn’t have expected anything else from a girl who has never dated, like you! Sure thing, I’ve got just the thing. You’ll love it,” she beamed, out of nowhere. You began to stammer, surprised.

“W-Wha–how do you know–”

“I’m sure you’ll love this!” she sighed, satisfied. “Alright, listen closely, (y/n). In about a minute, you’ll meet your thirteen first kisses!” she nodded.

You watched her, confused as ever.

“What?”

“Yes, yes,” she hummed, lazily looking off to the side before catching the time. “Shoot, I have to go! Have fun, now!” she squealed, letting your hand go before rushing off with her books. You stared after her, not understanding what she was trying to say, before noticing that you were holding what seemed like tarot cards with black figures on them. Tilting your head in bewilderment, you slowly headed back to your table, where you sat down and spread the cards in front of you.

“What is this…?” you muttered to yourself, holding up a card to examine it.

At that moment, you felt like everything was played in slow motion–the girls who were giving you the nasty eye sitting across from you were checking their reflections on their phones as the guy behind them was flipping through a book on biochemistry. A group of students on your right dropped a book.

Suddenly, as if the loud clatter of the book shook you out of your stupor, everything was normal again. You placed the “tarot” card back onto the table, puzzled on why you just felt that way.

“That was strange…”

“What’s strange?” you heard a new voice, directly behind you. You felt someone grab your shoulders and you jumped in surprise, flinching at the contact. Turning around, you felt your eyes go wide and your jaw go slack at the sight in front of you.

“W-wait a second, aren’t you…?”


To be continued…

ew.com
Read a New Excerpt from the 'Rogue One' Prequel Novel 'Star Wars: Catalyst'
As the arrival of Rogue One looms, Star Wars fans will be getting an early look at the events that led up to the creation of the Death Star in...

I like dying and being dead. (You better believe I have pre-ordered this book.)

He raked his hair away from his face with his fingers and turned his attention from the notebook to watch Jyn, still so completely absorbed in what she was doing she might have been in a world of her own.  When she finally paused and sat back to evaluate her drawing, Galen rose from his seat and went over to her.

“Can I see what you’ve been working on, Stardust?”

Looking up at him in surprise, she nodded.  “It’s for you.”

JYN’S DAD CALLS HER STARDUST I CANNOT EVEN WITH THAT.

2

Status Quo / Mission Briefing Revision (WIP)

Having a pre-alpha release in mind, we tweak and revise step by step several parts of the game. Andrew worked on the option menu recently and I spent some time on improving the sound effects. I also replaced some placeholders with new art. The shown avatar animation is still not the final version, but it’s probably a “better” placeholder than the one before. I’m not good in drawing characters - need to practice much more – but for the moment the new art must be sufficient. ;)

Dedication Part 1: Shadow Song - A Moriel Fic

part one of the pre-series angst monster is finally here! the second and third parts should follow quite soon, I have them written they just need to be tidied up a little. In the meantime enjoy the angst. (and let me know if you like it? this has been a while in the making) bless @blackbeak for letting me babble about this (a lot) during the writing process. 

Title: Dedication Part 1: Shadow Song 

Summary:  Pre-series, Azriel’s POV. The story of Azriel’s rescue of Mor after the Incident.

Teaser: It had probably happened some time in the night then. In that court of festering demons and monsters that was aptly named for the horrors it bred. But that was not so long. She was strong. She was so strong. She could still be alive. He could still find her. He would still find her. He pushes down on that feeling too until it is as small and insignificant as the pain that had rattled him for all those years.

“Where is she?” he murmurs quietly.

Link: AO3

When Azriel steps into the room his brother had summoned him to not even knowing the whisperings of his shadows could have prepared him for what he found within.

Cassian slumps in a chair, nearly doubled over on himself. His wings droop pathetically until they drag on the floor. His face is buried in his hands as though he can’t bear to look at any of them. And he sits still and silent.

Cassian was never silent and never still. He favoured action, always. Where others may be content to sit and plan and plot and analyse and debate he never was. He considered that to be a waste of time. The more dire and precarious a situation the more he wanted to act immediately. He trusted his gut and he acted on his instincts and did whatever he thought was right. Thoughts of the consequences came later. Usually when he was faced with them and had to think his way out of trouble. And that was if they ever came at all.

And Rhys. Rhys who had called him here and taken charge – always taking a charge, a leader without a crown – looks lost. Rhys whose power could already level a city with a thought and grows every day looks powerless. Rhys is paler than Azriel has ever seen him in all their years together. It looks as though he’s been trapped underground and away from sunlight for decades. And he’s shaking. His brother is shaking.

The shadows that sing secrets to him have no answer for him now and so he speaks. He is the one that breaks the silence between the three of them. Him. A warning to the world that something is very, very wrong.

“What happened?” he asks quietly.

Rhys only grips the back of the chair he’s bracing himself over, his knuckles turning white and the wood groaning at the pressure. He opens his mouth several times but words seem to fail him and he eventually lapses into hopeless silence, shaking his head.

It’s Cassian who finally manages to tell him.

“Morrigan,” he groans without raising his head. His voice is a hoarse rasp and he refuses to look at either Azriel or Rhys as he answers.

That one word, her name, said in that way makes Azriel’s heart slam to a stop within the cage of his ribs. His body locks up and he snaps his eyes to Rhys, mutely appealing for a fuller explanation that he knows Cassian is unable to give right now.

Rhysand clears his throat and looks up at Az, his violet eyes shadowed and heavy. “Mor’s family learned….Learned about what she did with Cassian.” He still grinds out that mistake in such a way that Azriel knows it will cause a rift between his brothers for some time to come.

Beneath his broad, rough hands he knows his brother’s face is still faintly bruised. Relics of Rhys’ fists and the beating he’d given him when he found out what they’d done. He’d been seeing straight through to this moment. This is what had caused that rage. What exactly ‘this’ is Azriel still doesn’t know. But from the way his brothers have reacted…

His stomach churns horribly in fear for her.

“Eris refused the marriage,” Rhys says, his usually smooth, steady voice little more than a brittle whisper. “They punished her for it. Brutally.”

There were enough sickened layers in that last word that he didn’t want to press for further details. Not right now. Rhys is still trembling – with rage or fear or grief – he can’t be sure. And Cassian looks as though he might be sick at any moment.

As he should Az thinks viciously. Fool, fool, fool, fool. He pushes those thoughts away. It wasn’t Cassian’s fault, not truly. His brother had meant no harm, even if so much harm had been done by it. And this was punishment enough.

“When?” Azriel hears himself ask.

The horror he would think of later. The pain and the fear could wait until then too. For now he stuffs them roughly into that box in his head. The one in which he has hidden so much of his childhood in order to stop it destroying him. The one he had gotten very good at closing and keeping closed in the last few years.

He knew they thought him cold and empty and flat but he did not know how else to be. If he let himself feel a little he would feel it all and it would have killed him years ago. In that darkness in which he had lived and sunk into so deeply – until the darkness began to whisper its secrets to him- he’d had no choice. Shut down or die.

Rhys seems a little startled by the question and at the cool, calm way Azriel had asked it. “I don’t know,” he admits, his violet eyes shifting as they meet his own hazel. “My father only deigned to tell me about it an hour ago.”

It had probably happened some time in the night then. In that court of festering demons and monsters that was aptly named for the horrors it bred. But that was not so long. She was strong. She was so strong. She could still be alive. He could still find her. He would still find her. He pushes down on that feeling too until it is as small and insignificant as the pain that had rattled him for all those years.

“Where is she?” he murmurs quietly.

The shadows around him swirl and twist like agitated serpents, flying from his body, spearing out in all directions, all asking the same question. He does not give them orders. He does not tell them what to do or where to go. They respond to his will, his wants, his needs, even if he doesn’t always know what they are. They have a kind of life and intelligence of their own and he had trained them long ago to obey. They found him the secrets that he needed to know without him having to tell them what he needed exactly or where to find them.

The answer is whispered in his ears a heartbeat before Rhys says hollowly, “The Autumn Court.”

In a mess, neither has to add. A mess that her family no longer wishes to acknowledge. A mess that is now Eris’ to deal with. They have thrown her away, used and useless to them. They have thrown her away as she no longer has value to them, no longer has meaning, no longer even rates as a person any longer. Like an animal. Impossible to break to their will so it had been destroyed instead. Like a patch of rot, cut away before it tarnished the house it belonged to. Like a bastard boy shoved into a black pit to suffer for the crime of being born lest he live to stain his step-mother’s pride.

But he had survived. And so would she.

Azriel’s Siphons burn blue, like the reflection of a shooting star blazing on the surface of a lake. Rhys and Cassian’s ragged shouts of protest both come too late to stop him. He channels his power inwards, pressing it into his body, forcing it to become small, to become as insubstantial as his shadows, as smoke caught in a breeze. And then he vanishes.

It wasn’t winnowing, he had been told. Winnowing was like walking while magic reeled the desired destination in close. This was different. This was dangerous. The power that burned in his blood was not named the killing power for no reason. It was unstable and difficult to hone and control, even with the Siphons that glittered about his body. It was a force to be reckoned with. It was a force of nature and it had been created, as he had been, to destroy. One did not attempt to saddle a hurricane. But this is what he does now. For her.

For this girl. This burst of sunshine made flesh. This bright spark made of warm smiles such as he had never known, and easy laughter that echoed in his bones longer after she had gone. This girl with the power in her blood that burns and roars and calls to his. This girl with the rich velvet eyes he could spend a lifetime drowning in and still breathe thanks to the way she said his name. This girl his heart had dedicated itself to the moment their eyes had met across that war camp.

This girl who has been brutalized by her family – the way he had been. This girl who has been hurt and crippled and broken by the ones who should have treated her with gentle love and tender compassion. He had never known that. And likely never would. But he could try to find some – for her. To spare her from this. To save her; as he wished for so long that someone would have saved him. For her. For her he will do this. For her he would do anything.

Keep reading

I finally watched the episode and

Pros:

  • They left the part where Shinra says he deserves it for ignoring Izaya.
  • Shinra defends Izaya as his friend in front of Celty (probably the most shocking part).
  • Middle school!Shinra is pretty much the same as he was in the LN.
  • He still took the knife for Izaya.
  • Basically I have no problem with how Shinra was represented.


On the other hand,

Cons:

  • There’s essentially no difference between pre middle school Izaya and post middle school Izaya.
  • Izaya was totally calm and collected at all times and he had zero interest in Shinra, whereas in the LN he was so fucking intrigued he observed him for a whole month and was determined to figure him out.
  • Izaya appeared to be on top of everything from the start, implying he was a criminal mastermind at what, 12? In the LN, he simply took advantage of the Nakura situation that was presented in front of him. Before that event, his activities were limited to observation, it was only after this event that he realized he could manipulate people and situations to make them more interesting.
  • AND THAT WAS BECAUSE OF SHINRA.
  • Because he had been observing Shinra, who was his complete opposite.
  • I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY LEFT OUT THE TELEPHONE POST SCENE.
  • I AM PERSONALLY OFFENDED BY THIS.
  • The lack of this scene implies that Izaya doesn’t actually consider Shinra a friend and uses him just as much as everyone else. This is wrong. He felt frustrated because he was betraying him.
  • They also excluded the part where he points out to Celty how much damage she’s caused to Shinra. He was so, so so very bitter at that time.
  • BASICALLY THEY LEFT IZAYA WITH NO EMOTIONS AT ALL.
  • I’m very disappointed in this.
2

I finally made a proper Pre!Hortus and After!Hortus reference after so long…..

The difference between the two is that After!Hortus is more genuinely kind and a decent person while Pre!Hortus is mean-spirited and enjoys making people upset.

To get After!Hortus, you have to get Pulchrit and Hortus to reach an A-Support

anonymous asked:

I realise it's a two second promo but I thought Daryl looked very calm in the clip where he's (shaving??) outside in contrast to him on ep9 pre Carol reunion, almost like he can relax a bit now he knows she's safe and still loves him, like he's content to know that he protected her with his lie so she can have some peace even though he must miss her like crazy

I think he is making arrows for his crossbow. But yeah, I do feel like meeting Carol and talking to her (and hugging her and smelling her ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)) grounded him. Like Morgan said, she is the thing he is holding onto, she is his anchor.

So for him to finally know that she is alright, understand why she left and why she was keeping her distance, that she is ok and safe, I think it gives him the purpose to end all of this and it gives him peace, and a reason to win that it’s not only blind revenge.

I wanted to test out two styles or coloring ideas, and figured why not draw Deadpool? Since I’m so excited for the movie finally being a reality. So here is the full thing (and yeah, I threw in the pipe like in the pre-trailer trailer because I wasn’t sure what else to have him do).

So here are the two ideas I tried capturing in the coloring technique: taking some of the solid black shadows (and some lines) and making them a darker red/darker color than the flat color… just to make it “blend” a bit more while still being a solid shape; the other idea being to use the add glow layer for highlights more. It’s so common in comic coloring, and yet I hardly think to utilize it, so here I finally tried it out.

I want to post a small guideline for coloring this soon, because I am quite happy with how this turned out.

(Deadpool belongs to Marvel and not me, of course.)

Brooke Hernando, Dixxie Mae Graphics, 2015. Do not steal or use this work without credit and permission.

Bleach End 3: Aizen, Immortality, and Character

So. Now we talk about my favorite character. And why he is STILL my favorite character and awesome and beautiful and amazing. I’ve seen a lot of people say that Aizen was out of character in the last chapter, or that his character was ruined, etc. etc.

Now, I DO think Aizen was being OOC, but here’s the thing: I think it was in character of him to be out of character.

Some explanation: Aizen was very nearly killed in the final battle. Anyone else, heck, even himself pre-Hogyoku, would have been very dead. Even Yhwach died in the finale. But Aizen didn’t. And I think that made him realize the truth.

He’s immortal. And immortality is perhaps the worst curse a soul can endure.

Without death, life is meaningless. No matter what you accomplish, you will inevitably live to see it undone. Everything you see, everything you experience, everything you love, will eventually be destroyed, leaving you behind. Eventually, after endless years of life, you probably won’t even remember it, since memory fades with time. An immortal life is a life of endless loss and meaninglessness.

That’s why he made his little speech. Its not that he’s turned over a new leaf or become a better person - no, he is still very much a narcissistic, trolling megalomaniac. But for one moment, alone in Muken, I think he might have realized the consequences not of what he’s done to the world, but to himself.

On the topic of the last photo I posted, there was this insane comic sale a couple of weeks ago (Hairy Tarantula was closing their Yonge location) and not only did they have Tokyo Pop titles (from pre-Tokyo Pop implosion days), but I managed to get every English volume of Wild Adapter ever published, some still in the wrapper, and the (somewhat) rare compilation of Bus Gamer. ;___; 

It was a beautiful victory, especially after finally gathering up all the Saiyuki’s I lost several years ago (in no small part due to @kaijuslayer being an amazing and accommodating boyfriend who understands he will forever share me with 4 fictional jackasses). 

Take those off pedestals

As I began the second half of my final pre-clinical year of vet school I found myself asking this question: ‘what kind of vet do I want to be?’

I sat quietly listening to the experiences the professors had gone through. They seemed so intimidating and other worldly with the abundance of knowledge they had. However, when things were taught from a more clinical perspective I began to realize that at the end of the day they were still people. They make mistakes, they feel insecure, they have times when they feel like they don’t know what they’re doing just like everyone else. The same went for vets.

Before vet school I was nervous talking to vets; ‘they’re so smart, so put together, they save lives, they do no wrong’. During the first years of vet school I went through ‘imposter syndrome’. I was none of those things that I told myself vets were. So how could I be a vet? I would compare myself to my classmates. I’m not as smart as them, I’m not as confident etc.

After spending 2 weeks on placement at 2 different vet clinics I began to realize that this wasn’t true of vets either. They’re not perfect, they make mistakes and at the end of the day they’re just people.

I realize that this applies to everyone and everything. Especially in the current world we live in where it is so easy to compare your life to the lives of others. However, we also forget that the lives we see on social media are a construction.  

Should we still celebrate others achievements? Yes, I think we should.

Should we paint these people as being a once in a lifetime occurrence? No. 

By all means be inspired by other people, be motivated by them but do not for a second think that you cannot be where they are. At the end of the day that person you put on a pedestal is still a person just like you.

So what kind of vet do I want to be? I want to be one that will work with you and your fur baby. I want to break the veneer. I want to be seen as human. 

Don’t put someone on a pedestal if it means you have to put yourself down.

Sherlock Series 4 or War?

almost 2 months after this mess aired, I am still confused, disappointed, hurt and so so angry! But I think I can finally put my emotions into words so here they are:

pre-war time: Before S4 aired we were all so thrilled! Every little sneak peak we found or received, immediately got spread, reblogged and commented on. Some even metaed the sh*** out of it. The air was thick with excitement for something new, something we were sure would make history, something that had never been done before. We prepared, ready to move into battle!

war-time: Having waited for so long, we all threw ourselves head-first into battle. However, soon after we realized that this was not what we expected, were promised or hoping for. The battlefield was a mess, no one knew where we were, who was bad, whom to trust. The only thing that was left to do was to close your eyes and to hope you make it through! 

In between battles we collected the wounded and tried to nurse them as good as possible, feeling yourself like you wouldn’t make it through the next battle, but this tiny little hope for something better remained, making you walk into the next battle whatsoever. 

post-war time: Miraculously you made it! You made it through all 3 battles, Though, a huge part of you died out there on the field, you survived. But surviving was the easy part as it soon turned out. You’ve been left wounded to the core, betrayed and treated in a way which is against all humanity!

 The only task that is left to do now is to rebuild yourself and everything that got damaged in this pointless war. And most important to educate and alert the former generations so this does not happen again! 

anonymous asked:

going into youtube and seeing 5H performances without mila is a trigger. just seeing the 4 of them in anything without her is a trigger. like literally pre december 2016 stuff is all a huge trigger. will the fandom ever move on? can all of us finally not associate 4h from camila and vice versa? or will we forever have PTSD over her leaving? hahaha i feel like i'll never be able to get over OT5 / camren. like i'll be 60 yrs old still wondering if camre was/is real. haha #scarred4life

This is for life love…

Originally posted by darkflamedragonslayer