Immobiliter ( Robin ) - Tumblr Posts
🪐 —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. ❞
🪐 — ROBIN BUCKLEY for birdie !
She always did a good job of pretending; to her mom, that academic attainment and securing a future miles away from Hawkins was more important than friends; to her fellow band nerds, that it didn’t matter that they’d never be cool enough to sit with the cheerleaders and the jocks, that it was way more interesting to talk about the nuances in playing forte as opposed to fortissimo than it was to talk about who’d been caught making out behind the bleachers this week, anyway. That second statement was admittedly true. But Robin knew for a fact that her life would be easier if she was sat at that table. If talking so passionately about musical theory got her social respect instead of social ridicule.
“ Oh, I know that. There are so many people here in Hawkins whose opinions should not be allowed to exist, let alone listened to. ” Robin spared Miss Birdie a quick glance as she spoke, but something about her art teacher always put her ease when it came to expressing her opinions, no matter how much they went against the status quo. Whether it was her eccentricities or just her sense of style, there was something very un-Hawkins about her. It was what had drawn her to this classroom during her lunch breaks on multiple occasions now. Here, she could be more herself. At this point, her fork was all but playing with her food, as opposed to helping her eat it. “ But it’s just… frustrating, you know? That those people don’t realise how small-minded they’re being — or worse, that they realise it and don’t care. ”
HARSH THOUGH THEY MAY BE, robin’s words still bring a subtle smile to her lips. so many people whose opinions should not be allowed to exist. though it had been a long time since she had fled her own tiny hometown, birdie could still remember the feeling of suffocating, the insufferable itch to escape the life that you had been given & make one of your own, no matter what it may cost. towns like hawkins wanted its children to think such freedoms were impossible, but birdie knew better. & it seemed robin did too — without even needing to be told, she seemed to carry the awareness that there was so much more out there for her than could possibly be found within the hawkins town limits. ❝ small towns tend to breed small minds. especially since most of the people who live here have never known anything else. still, that doesn’t make it any easier for those who might see things a little bit differently. ❞ a frizzy lock falls from the messy pile atop her head, precariously held in place with two pencils pushed through the twist, & birdie sweeps it absently behind her ear. ❝ but i know it’s still hard. try not to listen to those people, if you can hep it. & keep a look out for ways to make where you are now just a little bit better. ❞ even the hawkins art room itself had been small & unbearably empty when she had first taken the job over, but by now it was crowded with birdie’s own personal touches. the brick has all been papered over with all manner of paintings & prints, a series sun-catchers made of dyed shards of glass hang in a row from the ceiling, sending specks of light spinning around the walls, & the windows are covered in an abstract tissue-paper pattern that turns the light filtering in from outside into kaleidoscopic pools of color. from such a bland little room, birdie thinks she’s managed to make a rather beautiful little space. ❝ & remember, you don’t have to stay here forever, if you don’t want to. have you given any thought to what you might want to do after you graduate ? ❞