Open Prompt Sent By@immobiliter / Robin Wish I Didnt Care .

🪐 —open prompt  sent by  @immobiliter​  /  robin                        ❛ wish i didn’t care .❜

      TOWNS LIKE HAWKINS COULD FEEL LIKE A CAGE  for those who didn’t easily  fit into the established mold. birdie knew far too well the uncomfortable sensation of not belonging in a close-knit community like this one.  &  folks around small towns could be mean to anyone who was the slightest bit different  — especially high school kids. it was one of the reasons that she kept the art room door open during her lunch period: any of her students were welcome to come in  &  eat with her if they couldn’t brave the cafeteria for any reason, or if they just didn’t have anyone else to sit with.                                           robin had been taking her up the offer more often lately. birdie didn’t mind; she was grateful for the company, in fact. even if robin didn’t want to talk about it, it was just nice not to eat alone. but she also can’t help but worry about her student.  &  birdie doesn’t really know what to say  — doesn’t want to push her to talk about it — but she wants to help, however she can. ❝ it’s not always a bad thing to care, ❞  she says, her eyes downcast as she slices an apple into neat eighths.  ❝ but you’ve also gotta remember for your own sake that not everyone’s opinion is worth listening to. ❞

🪐 — james barnes​ ;

there’s sense in this, a truth he understands about fighting, about the weight of a gun in his hand. his lungs feel easier now, though he knows the heaviness that will set in later; the road to redemption was always paved in blood.          ❛    that’s always the way this goes, or have you forgotten that part?   ❜

      SHE HASN’T FORGOTTEN, but the rush of adrenaline never really went away, no matter how long she’d been in their line of work.  ❝  just making sure you’re not getting too cocky, ❞  nymeria quips back, her voice soft. her own weapon is ready  &  loaded at her side, comforting in its familiarity. it’s time — their window of opportunity is closing, the target set to be passing by their post only briefly.  ❝ you ready ? ❞

Con O'Neill as Israel “Izzy” Hands in Our Flag Means Death — S01E04 “Discomfort in a Married State”

She was weeping, and her tears were flame. And still she drank it in.

Melisandre of Asshai

🪐 — lucius spriggs​ ;

the thing is,   izzy is not as scary as he thinks he is.  sure,  lucius wouldn’t want to be at the receiving end of his sword because that would end up horrendously bad for him,  but this?  oh,  he knows he has the higher ground in this.  so the boy shrugs off the trademark abrasive tone coming from the other man,  even avoids spitting back a caustic no shit and sits down on a little stool he has found nearby.  because this isn’t like last time, right?  this isn’t a fight.  not that lucius has any idea what this even is.  a truce,  maybe? possibly.   

❛  of course i don’t.  and listen, that’s between the two of you.  but,  do you really think glaring from afar is going to do you any favours?  how’s that going for you so far?  ❜   he follows his gaze to where stede and blackbeard are busy looking at each other,  oblivious to the world around them  (   lucius thinks it’s cute,  though he wisely keeps it to himself   ),  and well.  his tone softens a bit when he looks back at izzy.   ❛  what are you afraid of?  ❜   he wonders if this is pushing it too far,  if he hasn’t just crossed some precarious boundary with voicing that question out loud,  but he does nothing to take it back. 

       HE KNOWS HE’S LOST IT ALL when lucius sits down beside him, as casual as anything. like he’s about to give izzy a heart-to-heart — like they’re sodding friends or something. whatever sense of authority he’d had  ( or hoped to have )  over the crew, it was clear that it was all well  &  gone now.  &  izzy curses under his breath, his gloved hand clenching in anger. he almost wants to reach for his sword to shut the boy up, but his captains would likely reprimand him grievously for such an outburst. he’s trapped, nowhere to run, nothing he can do except listen.                                                                                         &  though it infuriates him to admit it, lucius has a point. his sulking is unlikely to lend any change to the situation, &  izzy isn’t sure how much longer he can take an existence of slinking about the ship trying to avoid too close contact with the golden glow that seems to surround ed  &  stede whenever they are together. he glares at lucius, his teeth grinding, bristling again at the gentler tone he takes. perhaps izzy couldn’t be feared any longer, but he still refused to allow himself to be pitied. ❝ i’m not afraid, ❞ he growls, seething, tearing his eyes away from his captains with some effort. ❝ i’m just... i’m not like that twat bonnet — &  i’m not like you. i can’t — it’s not — ❞ words fail him, as they so often do,  &  izzy curses himself again for his weakness, for his shame, for his inability to throw either lucius or himself over the railing  &  be done with this ridiculous conversation once  &  for all. ❝ that, whatever it is that they have — ❞  he says, gesturing vaguely astern. but his eyes remain fixed out on the sea, unable to look at edward or lucius as he speaks. ❝ — it isn’t meant for the likes of me. ❞

Ethan serving regal Vampire realness (again)