or that no one even cares enough to send me hate


Dr. Aurelius once asked me what made a home.

I didn’t understand the question. And quite frankly, at the time I didn’t really care about what it meant.

He had a reason for asking, early on in my initial healing process. Before the parachute bombs. Before the Star Squad. While I still thought Katniss was a mutt, he was at my bed, asking me what I thought made a home. But the idea of home would always send me reeling. Always to the hate forced into my heart by the Capitol.

Always to blaming her.

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sooranghaes  asked:

erin!! I know we dont really talk but i saw how you get some /agressive/ asks about your story and !! i hope you stay patient and think about it as since people are so into it it means your story is really really good!!>\\< keep writing and have a good day~

awwww thank you so much for taking the time to send me such a sweet message :’)) yeah i guess that’s one way i could think of it? LOL clearly they cared enough to turn on anon and send in an ask HAHA well thank you love!! hope you have an amazing day <3

evora-eriu-mclaggen  asked:

✈️ : seeing your muse in somewhere they didn’t expect to see

Send my muse an emoji and they will react to …

The journey back from the Western Approach had been a long one. If there was one place in Thedas she hated more than Emprise du Leon, it was there. Dealing with extreme temperatures in heavy armor just wasn’t her idea of fun. Sand in said armor made matters even worse.

Tired, sore and ready for a bath, Maara trudged up the tower stairs. There were a million things to do already upon her return to Skyhold. Nobles wanted favors, villages needed protecting, the cook was having fits about missing provisions… Listing all the things she’d need to take care of after her nap, she fumbled with the buttons on her shirt, eager to get out of it.

Finally with enough leeway to do so, she lifted her shirt over her head, taking the final few steps into her room. Perhaps she should have waited a moment longer before stripping.

“Farris!?” she gasped, slapping her arms over her chest. “What are you doing in here?!”

Something is Wrong

Here on AO3

Rated: T ; approx. 2k

(Basically is just sick Coliver. Hope you enjoy!)

Something is wrong with Oliver.

When Oliver doesn’t respond to any of the texts Connor sends him during class, Connor brushes it off with a confident shrug. Even though Oliver always texts him back. Even if it’s just a quick “Can’t text now.” He’s probably in the middle of a meeting or on a call or something.

When Oliver doesn’t respond to any of the emails Connor sends him while walking across campus to grab a sandwich, Connor figures it isn’t anything to worry about. Even though Oliver always emails him back. Even if it’s as simple as “We’ll talk tonight.” He gets a ton of email everyday so what if one message (or six) got lost in the shuffle.

When Oliver doesn’t respond to the Facebook messages Connor sends him in the middle of his second class of the day, Connor rationalizes it’s no big deal. Even though Oliver always messages him back. Even it’s as meaningless as “Why do you send me messages here? You know I hate Facebook.” He’s just being a good employee. Not checking in while still at work. Being responsible.

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