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hyperfix-wip · 5 days ago

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IM FUCKING CRYING 😭🥹 it’s so goddamn adorable! Our babies are growing up 😭😭😭

Heart Shaped Patches

Pairing: Dad! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 4.1k

Synopsis: Fatherhood told through a handmade quilt. A Hobie father's day fic 💕

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, pregnancy mentions, dad! Hobie, Mum! Reader, established relationship, Billie and Ramona AU, parent AU, Twin AU, cw food mentions, one suggestive joke, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff!

Requested by @hyperfix-wip - Bestiiiiiiiiiiie 👀May I have a fic of Hobie sewing a quilt for Billie, Mona and Kitt? Maybe add some little tidbits of the twins sharing the quilt or Kitt being forced to cuddle with them under their dad’s quilt 🥹

Dad! Hobie Masterlist

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Before the twins were born, Hobie was already sewing the quilt. It was just a couple of squares back then, one for each of your daughters to represent them— A bee and a flower, both are based on Hobie's own design and used scraps of fabric from old projects lying around the houseboat. You once asked him where he got the idea of making a traditional quilt, to which he shrugged and smiled up at you from his workstation while your hand gently held onto the back of his head sweetly.

“I wanted somethin’ that they'll keep forever.” He said softly, eyes shining under his work lamp. “I know it's not fancy rocks or an heirloom, but it's for them.”

Your heart softened at his words, immediately embracing him as you kissed his temple. “And it's made by their dad,” eyes brimming with tears, you hold him close as he wraps an arm over your swollen belly. “It's better than any of the expensive shit.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely,” your tone grew smaller, trying to keep the sobbing to a minimum. “They'll treasure it.”

Hobie sighed, ears pressed on top of your belly to listen to their heartbeats. “I bloody hope so, I've got scars to prove it.”

“Oh, my love, let me see.” He showed you his battle injuries, a few nicks from the needle and new calluses forming around his fingers. You give each of them a gentle peck, until Hobie couldn't help it but pull you on his lap, kissing the giggles out of you.

—

“Love!” Hobie skids across the polished floors of the houseboat, shirt still wet with baby drool and all scrunched up from their tiny hands clinging to him.

“What!” You're immediately in mum mode, jumping off the couch, tiredness forgotten as you rush towards him. “What happened, are they okay?”

His bright smile says something else, and his hand on top of your mouth shushes you in place. “I jus’ got them to bed.”

Your shoulders slump, sighing against his palm before he lifts it off your face. “Hobie, don't scare me like that!” You whisper yell, taking a peek at the crib inside the shared room.

“‘m sorry,” chuckling, he weaves his hand with yours, leading you inside quietly. “I need to show you what they're doin’”

“Hobie, I know our babies are adorable but— shit, that's cute.” Cooing, the girls are bundled up in their matching teddy and rabbit onesie, snoozing in their crib while they hold hands like a couple of otters floating in the water. But the cutest one of all, is the growing quilt that is draped on top of them. It has grown exponentially larger in the past five months, after the first two squares, he made more to commemorate every milestone they've reached. No matter how small it is.

“I didn't put it over them.” He whispers to you, half hugging you whilst his chin rests on your shoulders that smells like baby powder.

“Really?” You almost melted from the cuteness.

“Yeah, I think they love their blanket.”

As you watch Billie and Ramona sleep, you sense that Hobie needs a hug, so you do, embracing him while gently swaying him to the soft gentle tone of the girls' mobile that uncle Ned made for them.

“They really love it, Hobie, you did a good job.” You hear sniffles, so you hug him tighter.

—

“Mummy.” You hear Mona waddling towards you on the floor, and the soft dragging of fabric right behind her.

There are piles upon piles of boxes next to you and Hobie, everything in the houseboat has been packed and ready to be picked up by the movers. The only thing to do now is reminisce about the life you had with your little family in the beloved boat that is now empty. You almost kissed James when he said he'd buy the houseboat so that you, Hobie, and the twins could live in a bigger place now that the girls are getting older and beginning to run around. James said he'd take good care of it, and that you two can visit the boat anytime, to which Hobie almost kissed him after he said that.

Hobie pauses from wiping Billie's cheek free of cupcake icing, eyes almost immediately watering at the sight of Mona carrying the heavy quilt over her shoulder so it's not forgotten before moving. The blanket has gotten way bigger as more squares were added by Hobie. Some were even made with the help of you and the girls themselves. Billie and Mona would draw and Hobie would stitch whatever they made on the square. There are a couple squiggles of animals on it, and even a family portrait made by their tiny hands. They look more like potatoes with heads, but you know that your girls are artists in the making. You also stitched the hems together with their old baby shirts and onesies, and even a few of Hobie's band shirts onto the fabric. Just to add to the sentimentality of the quilt. Hobie pecked your face so much when you told him of your idea that the girls cried thinking that their dad is eating mummy's face.

“Oh thank you, cheese.” Bringing her to your lap, she drapes the heavy fabric on the box in all her toddler clumsiness. “You remembered daddy's quilt!”

“I didn't forget.” She heaves, saying the words in a serious tone, continuing to place the blanket pile on the already closed box.

“Yeah, she didn't forget, love.” Hobie chuckles, helping Billie drink her apple juice.

Billie pulls the sippy cup from her lips as she sits prettily on her dad's lap. “I didn't forget too!”

You beam at their cuteness while Hobie cuddles Billie, nuzzling into her neck as she giggles. “We didn't forget either, we're bringing blanky in the car with us.”

“Really?” Mona tilts her chubby cheeks at you, eyes sparkling as she smiles toothily. “No dark box for blanky?”

You shake her head gently with your index and thumb, as you couldn't help but kiss her cheek as she lets out a giggle. “No dark box, just Billie and Mona's hugs!” Her laughter echoes above Billie's as you tickle her.

“Let us in there!” Hobie calls, scooching on the floor with Billie in tow as the youngest twin makes grabby hands at you.

“Get in here!” Opening your arms, you embrace your family in the house you and Hobie called home for almost a decade.

—

“They're actually cuddlin’ it.” Hobie whispers, taking a quick peek at the rearview mirror to look at his girls fast asleep in their carseats while sharing the quilt.

Twisting in your seat, you grin at the sight. “Some things never change, I suppose.” The hand on your thigh squeezes you lovingly.

Hobie side glances at you, smile permanently etched on his lips despite the bittersweet move to another home. He knows that they'll get there in a few, and it'll be home soon enough because you and his girls would be there with him. “Did you bring the camera, lovie?”

“I did.” You grab the digital camera from your purse, taking a dozen or so snapshots of the girls. “Now over to daddy.” Taking pictures of Hobie, you see in real time how his expression changes to something you're more familiar with when alone with him. “What?”

“Nothin', keep takin’ your pictures.” Patting your leg, he chortles, taking glances at you every few seconds or so.

“Hobie, you and your mind.” Rolling your eyes with a tamped down chuckle, you turn the camera around to take a picture with you and your family in the frame, hopefully.

“I didn't even say it.” He says defensively as you flick his ear playfully. “Maybe you can say it to me again—”

“After we settle down.” Poking his chest, he resists the urge to grab your hand and kiss it like back when the two of you were just teenagers on a road trip. He has twice the precious cargo now.

—

“Mummy!”

You and Hobie pull away from each other abruptly before he helps you off the kitchen counter tops. Your kisses have dulled his spider senses so he couldn't hear the twin's loud footsteps going down the stairs.

He fixes your shirt for you, and you wipe the sheen off his lips just a few seconds before Mona and Billie appear from the doorway.

“Are you two okay?” You ask, finding yourself casually holding onto an orange. Glancing at Hobie, he shrugs while holding onto a random spatula.

“Billie won't share blanky!” Mona stomps her foot, curly pigtails bouncing.

Meanwhile her sister gasps in offense, carrying the said quilt in her arms. It makes her smaller in comparison with the fabric spilling over her hold.

The various squares that Hobie meticulously stitched on it are on display. Each one showing a different year or milestone in their lives. One has tiny footprints on them with the girls' actual footprints to showcase their first steps. Another has their first words on them, which are each other's names. You still remembered that day, you were ecstatic even when it's not mummy or daddy. You just knew that they'd love each other no matter what, that they'd have each other's back even when mum and dad aren't by their side. Then the latest addition to the well loved quilt is their first day of school, with the pencils and alphabet Hobie embroidered on it.

“I said it's my turn! I wanted to take a nap!” Billie yells back, turning sideways to keep the blanket away from her sister.

“Well, I want to take a nap too!” Ramona places her hands on her hips, clearly frustrated.

“Why couldn't you two jus' share, gremlins? I made sure that the quilt’s big enough.” Hobie crouches down to their height, trying to placate them with his palm over their heads.

“Our beds!” They whine simultaneously, and you follow Hobie's lead, crouching down beside him as you open your arms. Billie takes it as you asking for the quilt when you were actually signalling for a hug to try to calm them down.

“We have our own beds now, daddy, and we can't jus’ share blanky because of it.” Billie explains with a huff, falling dramatically into your arms and on top of the quilt.

“Is that right?” Hobie sniffs, and you know that the cogs in his head are turning. “How ‘bout we make a little hideout jus' for naps and for sharin’ blanky?”

“Could we?” Mona's eyes sparkles, sidling next to their dad.

“I thought we could jus' sleep in your bed? Jus’ for now!” Billie adds, looking up at you expectantly.

“You could,” you say while rubbing her back. You and Hobie have been trying to have them sleep in their own beds for a while now, letting them nap on the shared bed wouldn't help them much when they're just starting to sleep in their room. “Or you could sleep in the castle that dad will make for you two.”

“A castle?!” The girls gasp out.

“A castle?” Hobie scrunches his nose at you, and you wordlessly convince him with a smile. “Right, I'll make a castle for my girls.” With a groan, he stands up, carrying Mona on his hip. “And mum's goin' to help us.”

Billie and Mona cheer with wide grins as they run away to grab the necessary things for the pillow fort.

Chuckling, you shrug, maybe cooking dinner will have to wait for now. “Anything for my girls.”

—

The flash from the camera makes you wince, hoping that it didn't wake your babies up from the sudden bout of light. The castle that Hobie promised them is magnificent, lots of blankets draped over the sofa and dining chairs, fairy lights twinkling above, and a dozen or so of their plushies and pillows thrown inside it. The girls were ecstatic to say the least, but they almost immediately fell asleep inside with how cozy the pillow fort is. But most of all, their arguing has stopped while they share the quilt.

Mona clutches the hem of it, the side where the square of their first steps is sewn on. Her foot kicks in her sleep, and Hobie holds onto her to calm it down. Billie looks like she's frozen mid cheer, arms raised above her head while she snoozes. The quilt perfectly covers the both of them now that they're a bit older and taller. But you already know that Hobie's barely done with it, he's probably already thinking of new designs to put on it.

You're sat beside him, an arm looping over his shoulder as he immediately leans against you while he gazes at the girls sleeping soundly.

“What are you thinking about, Hobie?” Whispering, you rub his arm sweetly, lips kissing the crown of his head.

“The girls growin’ up,” tilting his head to look at you, his eyes shines under the twinkling fairy lights. “It's too fast, lovie.”

“I could dress them in onesies again.” Joking, it earns a snort from him. “Yeah, our girls are growing up, but I can't wait to see what's in store.”

“D’you think we did a good job?”

Your hand traces his back lovingly. “Yeah, I think we did alright.”

“Yeah?” He sniffs, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Yeah.” Embracing him, you kiss his head again, earning a loving sigh from him. “I think we'll do alright with the next one though.”

Chuckling, Hobie holds onto you tightly. “Probably, love.”

“We'll see in nine months or so. Maybe it's triplets this time.” Before you could finish your sentence, he's already looking at you with a shocked expression, mouth agape, eyes flicking from your stomach back to your face. Nodding at his wordless question, Hobie can't scream from happiness so he just tackles you to the floor playfully, hand behind your head, and very careful with your stomach.

He needs to make another quilt.

—

“Why does he have his own quilt?” Billie asks, frowning at her newborn baby brother with his new quilt that's placed under his chubby body. The square has a kitten sleeping soundly, right next to it are three kittens playing around a ball of yarn that represents the twins and the new addition to the family. There are a few that are still blank slates, always ready to be designed by Hobie.

“Yeah, dad, why does he get his own when Billie and I have to share?” Mona adds, chin placed atop the crib while you could only look at Hobie expectantly.

“So you two can learn how to share.” Hobie makes an excuse while his hand covers both girls' heads in his palms. “Why? You don't like the one I made for you two?” He pats himself on the back for the brilliant switcheroo. In truth he first started making the quilt before the two of you found out you were having twins, hence the one blanket.

“No, we love it!” They simultaneously say with a whine.

Kitt gurgles in his sleep, and you pat him gently to keep him from waking up. With a sigh you usher them out of the room to let him sleep some more. “You three can fight about it downstairs.”

“Can we borrow Kitty's quilt?” Billie asks, voice a tad lower, clutching onto your arm while batting her puppy dog eyes.

“You can ask Kitt.” Chuckling, you lift her up before she could run off back to the crib and ask her baby brother. Leaning towards Hobie while he placates Mona by carrying her too, you whisper. “Told you it'll bite you someday.”

“Not my fault we had two of ‘em in one go.” You look at him with ‘really?’ expression. “Half my fault.” He surrenders, snorting as he cuddles Mona.

“Right, let's have some ice lollies. You two can have daddy's share.” The girls giggle at that while Hobie pouts beside you after taking another peek at a sleeping Kitt.

—

“Mummy, they're huntin’ me again!” Kitt runs around you and the vacuum as Hobie lifts up the couch effortlessly so you could clean under it. Your youngest hides behind your legs while Hobie chuckles at the sight.

The sound of the familiar footfalls running down the stairs has you and Hobie smiling even more. Billie reveals herself first, a menacing look on her face, quilt in hand while Mona follows a second later with a cackle escaping her lips.

“Kitty’s hidin’ behind mum.” Hobie says with a chuckle.

“Dad! You snitch!” Kitt gasps, still hiding behind your leg.

You look at Hobie with a shake of your head, trying not to laugh at your youngest’s predicament. All the while Hobie shrugs, and whispers, “It builds character.”

“Thanks, dad!” The girls run towards you, trying to catch their baby brother with their quilt as they go around and around you. They're but a blur in your vision as they run all over.

Their shared blanket's colours have worn down over the years, but thanks to Hobie's craftsmanship, it doesn't fray around the edges or look like its age. It's a lot bigger now than when they were just babies waddling around, it's so big that both girls had to hold it at each end so they could catch their brother like he's a freshly caught fish.

“Girls, what did I tell you about hunting your brother down for sport?” You ask as they chase each other around the living room.

Their giggles rise above the sound of the vacuum, so you close it with a click. Hobie gently drops the sofa before any of his kids go under it. He's immediately magnetized to your side, arm looped over your shoulder casually as you two go dizzy just from watching them run around.

“We just want to snuggle with Kitty!” Billie exclaims, almost catching Kitt before he could climb the walls which he's caught between the wall and the so-called net.

“‘m not a baby anymore, Bee!” He yells, voice cracking and peaking.

“You're literally nine years old! You're still a baby, right, mum?” Mona turns to you, flashing her puppy dog eyes.

“The three of you will always be babies in our eyes, Mon-mon.” You say with a smile as you tug Hobie closer.

“Aha!” Kitt uses the distraction to his advantage, side stepping and running back upstairs quickly.

“Hurry, before he gets to his room!” The twins coordinate their attacks, running up after their baby brother while keeping the well loved quilt off the floor.

“Good thing we haven't cleaned the upstairs yet, it'll be a bloodbath.” You say jokingly, patting his chest to tell him to continue vacuuming. Hobie stays in place, arm glued onto you. “You okay, Hobs?”

There's a glimmer in his eyes as he sighs and stares at the ceiling where the running footsteps thud. “I want another one.”

You groan, rolling your eyes as you try not to give him a fond smile lest you find yourself saying the same thing. “Hobie, come on—”

“Think ‘bout it, Kitt wants to be an older brother—”

“Okay—” you pull away, shaking your head as you hide your grin.

“Okay? That a yes, lovie?” Hobie asks so excitedly and happily that for a second you almost nodded along.

You turn on the vacuum, letting the sound drown out his incredibly convincing words that you've heard a handful of times now ever since Kitt started school.

“Do I have to make a bloody presentation for you?!” He yells playfully above the whirring and the rowdy footsteps upstairs. Smiling as he tries to turn off the vacuum but you cover the button with your hand. It turns into a game of tug of war with him, chuckling as he continues his pitch. “We have an extra room! We can afford it!”

“I know we can! They'll be adorable!”

“So it's a yes?!”

Kitt’s high pitched shriek means that the girls got to him and have wrapped him into a blanket burrito.

—

It all started with a simple, “dad, can you teach us how to sew?” Then it went to, “mum can you help us choose a fabric?” But after Billie and Mona mastered the hobby, you still have no idea why they've suddenly taken a liking to sewing and embroidery in the first place. Until they graduated from high school that is.

The five of you were cleaning up the house after the graduation party you and Hobie held in honour of the girls. The whole band came through and even a few of Hobie's spider society friends. It was bittersweet to say the least, you shed a lot of tears during their graduation and after they graduated. While Hobie was trying to keep it together for the two of you the whole time, always by your side, hugging and whispering sweetness in your ear, his facade fell when the girls slid a large gift wrapped box on the counter that he was wiping down.

“What's all this?” Hobie asks, white hair clinging on the side of his head that you've loved since the beginning of time.

“It's our gift to you and mum.” Mona says with a shy smile, eyes flicking towards you as you wipe your hands clean. As always Billie stands next to her, uncharacteristically bashful.

Kitt stops munching on his slice of cake, the same eyes as his dad that flicks between everyone's faces. “I helped with it.”

“Jus' a tad bit, Kitty.” They simultaneously say, expression a mirror of each other.

“What, I did!” He says, and you pat his head, pulling him next to you as unshed tears already cling to your lashes.

“It's your day, Mac and Cheese, why do we get the presents?” Hobie asks, hand nervously placed on the small of your back.

“It's a thank you gift, dad. For all the things you and mum have done for me and Mon-mon.” Billie rests her elbows on the counter, subtly pushing the gift towards the two of you. “Open it.”

“Open it.” Mona echoes back.

“Open it, open it!” Kitt adds to the growing chorus, hand thumping rhythmically on the counter.

“Alright, alright.” Chuckling, Hobie slowly unwraps the ribbon and pushes the gift over to you so you could open it together.

After carefully ripping the neatly wrapped present to preserve the paper for sentimental purposes, a recycled box of your old vacuum is shown underneath.

“We already have a vacuum, don't we, love?” He nudges you as he makes the obvious joke.

“Yeah, I think so, Hobs.” Grinning, you hear the girls groan.

“We jus' used the box! Open it!” Billie urges the two of you.

Proud of his dad joke, he opens the box carefully. Inside are piles of paper confetti that are in his Spider-Man colours. You can tell that Hobie's already emotional from it after you heard his staggered breathing.

With a hand placed on his bicep, you gesture for him to continue. He swipes away the bits of paper to reveal a quilt with the very first square of it being you and him, drawn in Billie's art style. Your heart squeezes as you place your head atop his arm while he feels for the stitching on the embroidery with his thumb.

“You all made this?” Hobie's voice is small, sniffing and choking on a sob. “On your own?”

“We had some help,” Mona glances at you with a fond smile. “And the old sewin’ machine still has some power in her.”

“Unfold it, dad, take a look.” Billie bites her thumb, a nervous tick of hers.

Hobie does what he's told, taking the heavy blanket and unfurling it from the box. It's big enough to cover the both of you in bed, but most of all, the squares each represent your life together with each other and your kids. His spider emblem on the other, and a simple heart for you. One has you and Hobie carrying baby Billie and Ramona in your arms, another with baby Kitt in tow. And a dozen more that have you reminiscing about the years as you cry into Hobie's sleeve.

“D’you like it?” Mona asks, eyes filling with tears of her own.

“Yeah,” Hobie nods, hugging the blanket against his chest before calling for his kids. “C’mere, you three.” Opening his arms, with you by his side, the twins hug him, and soon Kitt follows behind to join the group hug.

He has his own quilt to keep forever, it's not a rare jewel or something expensive, but it's his treasure, something he has passed down to his children. And that's something better than any gold or silver, it's from them, and he'll treasure it like it is.

He already has his heirloom right in his arms as he squeezes them in place. When he finally lets the tears flow on his cheeks, you press a heavy kiss on his temple. You and Hobie did good.

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hyperfix-wip · 5 days ago

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Where did the angst come from?! 😭

Remember that one thing @rexlroze said about single father Hobie? That, but with teacher! R who moves in next door to them. And Hobie's kid is their student and is so amused when seeing his kid drag him to the events for mother's at the school. Like, it's endearing watching the child push gifts and candies into his arms on both mother's day and father's day🤣

AWWWW he deserves all the presents!!!

Oop teacher au with some neighbour trope mixed in 🤭🤭 imagine the day r moves in and the kid brings in brownies for r with their *cough* hot *cough* dad!

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hyperfix-wip · 8 days ago

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Bro 😭

Another idea (last request i give for your apothecary, which wont be surprising)

Rose hips and ⭐️

Maybe—

Maybe, after the cycle broke. After hobie kills the beast that tormented him and the person he loved. Maybe fate simply had other plans than what the beast had it seem out to be with hobie and r?

(I dont fully know where you could go with this but i 100% trust all katy processes, besides i always wanted to know after fae hobie killed the beast and finally got his vegeance he needed after seeing r die over and over until she finally picked berries. Think fae hobie needs more time with her or another chance to see her again, even if it isnt the her he once loved)

Fae! Hobie my beloved 😍 I hope you like it!

Pairing: Fae! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), based around my The Fall series, fae AU, cw violence mention, cw blood, hurt/comfort

One year celebration 🎉

Navigation

Hobie stands there in the guts and grime of his fallen enemies laying at his feet. Their blood still pulses with warmth, but he knows that they're done. That he did it all for you.

All those countless lives that he lived with you, all ending the same way— with him holding your limp body. This was all for that.

The vines around his arms no longer slither around his skin, now they wither and die just like him. And just like you, he falls. His knees hit the crimson pool, adding his own to the flowing rubies. He looks up at the iridescent sky, pearlescent and beautiful. You'd love it here, and he'd love it if you were beside him in the end. But you're long gone now, body laying amongst the flowers in his abode, just like how you would've liked it.

As he crumbles in place, skin cracking and crumbling, succumbing to all his injuries from the hundreds of fights he had to go through to finish it all, he sees your face in his vision.

Walking amongst the blood and gore, you slowly get closer to him. The crimson doesn't stick to your skin, nor the white of your gown, instead you flow atop it, and he knows you're there to see him.

“Hi, love.” His clover, his rose, his fern, you might've taken a thousand names and looked different in every life, but he loved you in every version of you. Even though you're merely a ghostly version of yourself, he knows that it's you. “‘ere to see me one last time?”

You shake your head, a fog covering your face as you kneel before him. “No, I'm here to pick you up, Hobie.”

“Yeah?” He asks, golden eyes brimming with warmth and tears. “Despite everythin'?”

You reach for his cheek, a feather light touch, like sunshine caressing his skin, and he feels your warmth, one that he hasn't felt in a long time since he went through the journey. The fog obscuring your face fades away, and he sees you— the very first one that he fell for. He never thought he'd see you like this— wearing the face he most revered.

He knows that he's correct this whole time, that despite everything, despite the hundreds of years of the cycle churning, it has always been you.

“Despite everything, my love. Are you ready to come home with me?”

“I've been ready,” Hobie takes your wrist, feeling his body fall apart like a marble statue chiseled by your hands. “You'll be there with me the whole time?”

“Like always.”

As you embrace him in your light, he lays himself against you, eyes closing, and finally falling to eternity with you.

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hyperfix-wip · 8 days ago

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(Whose ass do I have to kick? 🧍‍♀️touching my man, the hell—)

Why did I tear up reading this tho 😭

Hi my love <3 Can I have lavender in a ⭐️ bottle? I've never needed it more than now. A conflicted r who goes to Hobie for some comfort if that's ok. I'll save my other potion for something more fun 💕!

Hi pinky!! Thank you for requesting I hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), insecurity, Best friends to lovers, lovestruck! Hobie, cw food mention, hurt/comfort, fluff!

One year celebration 🎉

Navigation

When you look at Hobie, your stomach does flips, heart pounding so fast that it makes you think that you're about to have a heart attack. He's that handsome, chiseled jawline that could cut a diamond, kissable lips and a face that just screams ‘runway model.’ It's not just his handsomeness, he's incredibly kind too. He irons your pajamas during the colder season just because you said that you liked it once in passing. Once, all it took was mentioning it once during a conversation and he always does it every night before bed no matter how tired he is. He kisses you good morning without fail, and smooches you before bed. Sometimes he would come home with a bundle of flowers in his hand, no matter the day, and despite what people would initially think of him, he's sweet as he can be.

Now that you two took one more step in the relationship, (way past just being friends that took awhile to get past mind you) the two of you are now living together in the cozy houseboat. You brought the same photo album you've been filling with a bunch of pictures of you and Hobie since childhood. It now sits on the bedside table, always ready to be seen by either one of you. It's like a time machine, seeing how you two grew up together from being a couple of scrappy kids to a blooming puppy love during teenage years.

You're happy with him, but there's that gnawing feeling behind your ribcage. It appears whenever someone on the street takes a look at Hobie, then a second glance over to you with a scrunch of their forehead. It rears its head again whenever someone flirts with him at the pub even though you're right beside him, holding his hand. He's perfect, too perfect for someone like you.

Sometimes you don't care about the insecurity that comes with loving someone, especially when Hobie's there to reassure you with kind and gentle words. Eyes shining for you, and lips ready to kiss away your frowns.

But after a show where he was front and center, and a pretty woman came up to him and sidled next to him like it was natural— they looked more like a couple compared to when you're standing side by side with him. The ugly feeling persists, making you disappear in the crowd while he looks for you in the sea of faces frantically.

You stand next to the pub together with the cigarette butts and broken glass. Eyes downcast as your gut rattles inside you. You didn't mean to tuck tail and run, but you just needed to go before you imploded. Nail picking at the cracking leather of your jacket, you hear the familiar thump of boots.

“When did you start smokin’, love?”

You scoff out a small laugh, “I don't smoke.”

“Then why are you ‘ere?” Hobie crosses the distance, hands casually in his pockets as you expected the same woman following right behind him. When he stands beside you all alone, you finally glance at his face. “You needed some air?”

Sniffing, you nod. “Yeah, I needed some air.”

“Right,” you feel his warmth beside you as he nudges you gently. “So you won't care if I smoke right ‘ere?”

“Not funny, Hobie.” Smiling, he finally wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his warmth. “You quit a long time ago, I don't want you smoking again.”

“I know, lovie.” He says while nuzzling your temple, his piercing brushing along your skin. “You know I can practically read your mind now.”

You blow a raspberry, head placed right on his shoulder as he lets you lean fully against him. “Sure, aside from climbing walls you can read minds now.”

“It's a natural ability, it came from knowing you for more than ten years.” His palm dances along your arm, warming you up.

“Thanks for making me feel old.”

“If you're old, ‘m old too. We grow old together, remember? Part of our deal?” Whispering, Hobie ducks his head to meet with your eyes that's illuminated by the dim yellow street light.

“Yeah, I remember.” You nod as he smiles gently and kisses the tip of your nose.

“Can you tell me what's wrong? I got worried about you for a minute when you suddenly ran out.”

“I thought you could read my mind?” You raise a questioning brow.

“I think it's malfunctionin’ because you got me sweatin’ right ‘ere.” With a gentle hand, he turns your chin up, thumb hovering above your lips. “Can you at least tell me that you're alright?”

A beat passes, and you shake your head. “No, I– I think.” His brows knit together in concern. “It’s just that…are you sure about me? We've been together for so long and I can't help but think that maybe you'll come around and want someone else. Someone more— I don't know… more interesting than me.” You trust Hobie, not other people. But if he wanted more than this, more than you, you'd let him go so he could be happier.

“Love,” cupping your cheeks, his eyes shimmer in the low light. “I've never been more sure ‘bout anythin’ else in my whole life. You're the one, I don't want someone else.” He wipes a stray tear on your cheek. “D’you think I've stuck around this long jus’ because? I wanted this from the start, bloody hell since we were skippin’ classes I wanted this.” He makes his point across with a kiss, sweet and gentle like it's the first time. “And you're fuckin' interestin’, who else has a collection of moon rocks that could be radioactive?” You chuckle at that. “If this is ‘bout that random—”

“It's not—”

“Really? I swear I heard you killin’ her in your mind.”

“Killing is a strong word, more like maiming is better.” You joke, arms wrapping around his waist.

Chortling, he pecks each of your cheeks again, lashes fluttering atop your skin briefly. “Either way, my eyes are only on you, love. I told her to sod off when she tried gettin' handsy.”

Your sadness gets taken out by the need to slap someone. “Shit, I'm going back in there.”

Hobie tugs you back to his side. “I said ‘tried’, love, Yuri saved me by flashing her smile at her and she immediately went to her instead.”

You sigh in relief. “Yuri's powerful. Are you okay?”

“She is. And yeah, ‘m good at dodgin’” His chest feels warm as he hides his face on the crook of your neck. Wobbling you in place while the muffled music from inside the pub could be heard out in the alleyway. “What do you say we go home and hide under the covers until we starve and scavenge for food in the kitchen?”

You grin, touching his cheek and kissing him affectionately until you feel his legs wobble from under him. “Sounds great.”

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hyperfix-wip · 10 days ago

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The quilt one 😭😭😭 I just imagined the twins with their chubby cheeks while sipping on their sippy cups

WIP WEDNESDAY

Lots of oneshots and some bsn and deity au sneak peek for you all!!!

“Oh thank you, cheese.” Bringing her to your lap, she drapes the heavy fabric on the box in all her toddler clumsiness. “You remembered daddy's quilt!” “I didn't forget.” She heaves, saying the words in a serious tone, continuing to place the blanket pile on the already closed box. “Yeah, she didn't forget, love.” Hobie chuckles, helping Billie drink her apple juice. Billie pulls the sippy cup from her lips as she sits prettily on her dad's lap. “I didn't forget too!”

Even the twins helped when it comes to the smaller stuff that no one paid attention to, keeping the ropes untangled and away from the floors lest someone or James for that matter could trip over them and crack a tooth open. Hobie has been keeping tabs on everything, from the new crew to asking if you've eaten recently. With all your running around in your new shoes, getting supplies and with the apprenticeship that mostly takes all your time away from the ship and him, he always made sure that you don't feel forgotten with all the business surrounding the ship.

“You needed some air?” Sniffing, you nod. “Yeah, I needed some air.” “Right,” you feel his warmth beside you as he nudges you gently. “So you won't care if I smoke right ‘ere?” “Not funny, Hobie.” Smiling, he finally wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his warmth. “You quit a long time ago, I don't want you smoking again.” “I know, lovie.” He says while nuzzling your temple, his piercing brushing along your skin.

“Sit ‘ere by the fire and I might tell you.” The sizzling sound from the pan is almost enticing. Almost as you ball your fists together. “I'm not falling for that.” “What?” There's a pause, then a loud guffaw. “This? Love, this is me being a gracious host, ‘m not temptin’ you with food. If I wanted to, I'd jus’ tell you to look at me.” “Oh so you could turn me into a frog or a sentient rock?” “A sentient rock!” He continues to laugh, slapping his thigh from his bout of laughter. “Fuckin' hell what do they teach you down there?”

Have a lovely day, pookies!!! ❤️❤️❤️

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hyperfix-wip · 11 days ago

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OK WAIT 😭 THIS IS SO CUTE THO

Just wanted to say I love your writing!! Nothing better than opening tumblr to find a little something to get me through a work shift with good vibes!! :DD RQ! Sea Clay with Hobie❣️, GN neutral reader who's just moved near the beach and suddenly keeps finding pretty stones, sea glass and shells left suspiciously close to their home.... almost like gifts.... so obviously they have to investigate..... ;))

Aww you're too kind! Thank you so much!! I had so much fun while writing this, I hope you like it! ❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, sea deity! Hobie, cw food mentions, fluff!

One year celebration 🎉

Navigation

When you bought the cozy cottage by the sea, you thought you hit the jackpot. Brick and mortar walls that stood the test of time, a cute little fireplace and an expansive land that comes with your very own slice of paradise. But you never thought that the reason why it was so cheap was because it's haunted. Your new home is haunted, and you're absolutely one hundred percent right as you see another pile of shiny sea glass by your porch.

At first you thought that it was seagulls leaving their hauls on your porch, and sometimes they would even drop them in your chimney. But as the days in the house go on, you start to notice more peculiar things. There's sand trailing from your front door to the kitchen every morning after you wake up so you know it wasn't you. As if someone got in and made themselves tea. Unless you slept walk outside to take a dip in the freezing cold water then headed back to bed.

Then there's the smell of salty sea breeze in every room you enter. You didn't find that weird since you do live by the sea, but after a few of your friends visited you for the first time, they noted the fact that your home doesn't smell like what you described, only the scent of the pasta and bread you made for them and the orange blossom candle that you always kept lit. The salty air seems to only waft over your nose when you're alone, as if the sea itself is comforting you.

It started off as a few minor things, but then the seashells, sea glass and peculiar looking stones start to appear within your home. Before it was on the beach right on the trail where you always take your walks. Then it started getting closer to the house, it was beside the fences then over to your flower beds and then now right on your porch. Honestly you don't think it's a ghost that has any ill intent upon you, but you're running out of space on where to put your blossoming collection and how you've grown tired of sweeping sand off your floors.

In truth it's just mildly annoying. And as if you'll move out and sell the property just because of it. You'd rather live with a kind ghost than move back into the one bedroom flat you abhor.

As you pick up the pretty emerald seaglass, you feel a smile tugging at your lips. Maybe you could use these gifts to make something. A lamp or maybe a stained glass window perhaps? Either way, you have to ask the ghost for permission, you've heard from a couple of ghost hunting youtubers that it's polite to do so lest their moods turn sour against you.

So even though you feel silly for doing so, you stand in your living room, fingers mindlessly playing with the glass as you look around your coastal home.

“Okay, um…” you inhale, absolutely feeling silly talking to no one. Maybe you should get a dog. “Can I use your presents for a project? I promise I won't sell them, just you know, repurpose them.” Pausing, you feel the sea breeze kiss your cheek. “Is that a yes? Shit, I'm a weirdo.” Placing the sea glass in your pocket, you blow raspberries. “No wonder why I don't have a partner. What's next, leaving a bowl of cream outside?” You scoff.

As you start to walk upstairs to gather your supplies, the sea breeze turns wild. Your front door opens harshly, flinging against the wall in a horrid thud. The wind knocks down chairs and even pushes you down backwards on the stairs. Sand enters the house, swirling and pooling around the same place where you stood until it forms a person's lithe body.

“What the fuck?!” You may not have a regular ghost.

The silhouette molds into more distinct characteristics. Hair that's wild as the waves, seaweed and corals perched on his head like a makeshift crown, a handsome face and the prettiest pair of sea green eyes.

“Don't scream—”

You scream, rattling even the wind itself as you stagger up the stairs on all four limbs. “It's real!”

The being rolls his eyes, and turns the stairs into a pile of sand that makes you slip down like you're riding down a dune. As you desperately claw up, you hear him sigh.

“You're the one who called me, love.”

“No I didn't!”

“Will you stop yellin’?”

You look over your shoulder, glaring at the being. “You turned my stairs into fucking sand!”

“I'll turn it into a pile of coral if you don't quiet down.”

Heaving, you reluctantly stand up on shaky legs. “Okay,” you swallow down another yell. “Okay, I'm fine, definitely not going coo coo bananas alone here. Nope, just a dream!”

“Do you always talk to yourself?” He asks, hand on his hip as he smirks teasingly.

Groaning and cradling your head, you tilt your head back in agony. “Oh I should've listened to the realtor when they showed me this place!”

“You bought a home without listening to the suit person?”

“Will you stop judging me—!” Pointing accusingly at him, you pause, remembering that you're arguing with a being that could turn solid material into sand. You wonder if he could turn you into a pile of sand too if you push his buttons, so you decide not to rile the powerful sea being. “Sorry, I'm calm.”

Chuckling, the sound akin to waves crashing against rocks, you can't help but smile as his sea green eyes shine under your lamps. “Now I know why I gave you those gifts, and ‘ere I thought you're jus' another pretty face.”

“Well, I'm more than a pretty face.” You try to act confident, hands awkwardly on your hips. “You'll be surprised that we humans have a personality— wait, you're the one who's giving me these?” Taking out the sea glass, you watch him through it, and you see him walk closer while keeping eye contact with you.

The seaweed clinging onto him drags along your floors, and you eye the wet trail it leaves. If he was any other guest, you would've blown a gasket at them. Instead you let the handsome…mermaid? Sea god? Do what he pleases.

“Aye,” he smiles.

“Why? Because I'm…pretty?”

Shrugging, he eyes the painting of a sailboat on your wall before gazing back at you. “Not jus' that, I suppose. I thought you'd appreciate not feelin’ alone ‘ere.”

You nod as if he said the most normal thing coming from the most normal person ever. “I guess, it did make me feel less alone. I thought you were a ghost.”

“‘m not, do I look like a spectre?” tilting his head, he slowly blinks at you, smiling sweetly like he's trying to lure you into the depths. “I've been called many names, love, but you can call me Hobie.”

You scrunch your nose, forgetting who you're talking to for a second. “You chose that name?”

His loud guffaw rattles the whole house, almost like a storm passed through. “You, I like your way with words.”

Chuckling nervously, you smile lopsidedly. “Well, I like your…laugh. And face, and…” you try not to look too long at his toned chest and stomach. “...Everything.”

With a chuckle, he opens his palms to you and a flurry of sea shells appear, overflowing in his palm and falling down on the ground. “I accept your permission to make your project.”

“Can you turn my stairs back into stairs first?” You try your luck with a sweet smile while batting your lashes.

“If you stop making that face, and impress me with your little project then yes.”

“That's good. I do have another question though.” Bouncing on the balls of your feet, you awkwardly grab the lamp beside the couch and show it to him. “Will you help? Glue guns are…tricky.”

A grin spreads across his cheeks, and the salty smell of the sea caresses your face gently. “Aye, I'd love to.”

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hyperfix-wip · 13 days ago

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This goes hard tho 😤

I'm so out of it. Not into the skin render😮‍💨

The reference:

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hyperfix-wip · 14 days ago

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YOU WILL LIVE, GODDAMN YOU! 😭

Ship to Wreck pt. 2

Beyond the Sea of Night Masterlist

Chapter 5 pt.2 >>> Chapter 6

The second the dock reaches your line of sight, the huge crowd gathering around it, or more specifically, around the Osprey, has you taken aback by the sheer number of pirates. It's as if most of the island’s inhabitants decided to use the ship as a town hall. They talk above each other, the sound could rival the marketplace’s usual loudness. The crew stands at the deck, trying to yell at them to step away from the gangway. Or that's what you make of their screaming when the other pirates’ rambunctious and excited voices ring around the whole island.

“I thought you said that you found new pirates, not a whole town.” You pause by the entrance to the docks, holding Hobie’s hand as he looks around the sea of faces.

“No, I said I found possible prospects. We still have to skim through them.” You look at the crowd with a bewildered face. “Good news is that we have a lot of options!”

“Hobie!” You whip your head towards him, tugging at his hand gently.

“Don't look at me like that!” He feigns offense, “I didn't lie, your snoggin’ got the ropes crossed in my head.”

Sighing, you accept the situation at hand. “There's too many people here, how'd you even manage that?”

“I told everyone at Riri's tavern, and I guess they told other people, and then they must've relayed them to more people.” He winces, head tilting back slightly. “I should’ve thought this through.”

“Maybe, it'll take us days to sift through them.”

The sudden loud clap of his hands has you almost jumping in your skin. It was so loud that it echoed around the whole dock, making people pause in place and stare at the source, and you know it hurt his palm.

“Right!” Hobie climbs atop a sturdy crate, addressing everyone gathering at the docks. He lifts an arm in front of him as if he's marking an imaginary line, his eyes following right where he points. “Every wanker who's on my right gets to stay!”

“Your right or our right?” One says somewhere in the crowd.

“Whoever said that is out!” The captain shakes his head in bewilderment. “I jus’ said my right!”

A round of disappointed groans and a few grumbling, half of the crowd shuffles out of the docks. Some even glare at Hobie, mumbling something under their breath as Hobie ignores them. One even shoulder checks you, and you had to stop Hobie from taking a swing at him, lest a huge fight that's even bigger and more dangerous than the one with Thorpe’s men will break loose. You know the old dock would not be able to handle that strain. Just thinking about that disaster has you taking his fist and tugging him back to the task at hand.

“That's still too many, Hobie.” Gwen suddenly appears to your side, and you almost yelp.

“Fucking hell, Gwen!” You exclaim, hand placed right on your thumping heart while Hobie snickers. “Where'd you come from?”

“Up your ass.” She says casually, eyes trained on the potential crew members. “Weed out the ones that only have less than a year out at sea.”

“I was jus' ‘bout to, Gwendy.” Hobie flicks away his coat and places his hands on his hips. “If you've only been sailing for less than a year, fuck off!”

A few complaints here and there, and the crowd is cut in half once again.

“Wait!” Hobie stops them, and they look on with hope. “Are any of you surgeons?”

Their hopes are dashed away when they shake their heads. You even saw a handful of them contemplating whether to lie or not. But given the position, they'd rather not.

“I am!” A man with brown shining eyes and a scarf around his head raises his hand from the sidelines. You saw a glimpse of him from the earlier group that Hobie told to leave initially. “I'm a surgeon!”

“You have your credentials?” Hobie eyes the man up and down.

“Yes!” The man fumbles while he tries to take out his papers from a leather case. A few of his belongings fall from the bag, scattering it across the dock as he struggles to get all of them. You help him gather the ones near you, and he nods at you gratefully.

“I'll check it later, go up the deck, mate. My ship doctor ‘ere will assess your skills.” Hobie glances at you with a knowing smile.

You mouth a ‘thank you’ to your captain. And he sends a subtle wink your way. You never voiced your complaint bluntly about being the only one who could tend to the sick and injured of his crew, and it fills you with glee that he saw your struggles and thought to help you out even when you didn't tell him.

The surgeon practically skips away towards the gangway and up the deck, where the rest of the crew watches on with amusement. The way Hobie is doing this is entertaining you suppose, even if it's an unorthodox way of doing it.

“Right, line up, the lot of you!” Hopping off the crate, he eyes them down. “Let's do this quick, tell me how long you've been sailing for and your specialty!” He heads off towards them, strutting down the dock, surprisingly, the pirates do as they're told. They really need the job, you guess. It's either that or Hobie's reputation precedes him more than you thought.

“Should you help?” You ask Gwen beside you.

“I'm watching from here, don't worry. He'll call me when I'm needed.”

Nodding, you rummage through your bag to finally hand her the gifts you got for her. You feel her eyes on you, and you look back, staring at her in the corner of your eyes.

“I've got something for you.”

“And here I thought you forgot about me, landlubber.” She says, slyly smiling as she looks at you in the corner of her blue eyes.

“Nope, you just kept slipping past me, Gwendy.” Grabbing the pair of ballet shoes, you hand it to her as it dangles from your hand.

She blinks at the silky material, breath hitching in her throat. “What— what's this?”

“You told me that you had to sell your old ballet shoes, so I figured that I'd get you one.” You say unsurely when she still doesn't take it from you. “If it's in poor taste—”

Gwen clears her throat, taking the dainty shoes in her hands gingerly like it's still brandnew. “No, no it’s not.” Her gentle blue eyes shine in the light as she chuckles. “It looks like my old one, it's just missing my initials that my mom stitched on the ribbons.” Her thumb runs along the seam of the shoes. “Thank you, Y/N, this… this is nice.” She weighs it in her hands, smiling at you through tearful heavy lashes.

Sighing, you smile back at her, hand clasping her arm. “That's good then,” her unshed tears aren't missed by you, but you don't mention it as she ties the pair around her belt right next to her cutlass. “I have a backup gift just in case you didn't like it.”

“Why would I not like it? It's from you, doc.” Her tone grows softer, almost choking on a silent sob.

“I'm not much of a gift giver, it's my first time actually, so I tried my best.”

“Well, you're good at it.” Nudging you, she grins while you hear Hobie barking out questions in the background. “Have you seen Yuri and Lyla's reaction when you got them those earrings? They almost cried.”

“James’ reaction was a good one too. He ran out to tell Miles and Pav all about his new belt.” You chuckle, half hugging her. You can tell that she's still paying attention to the scene on the docks, but you have her heart in that small moment. “I got you a pair of shears too, if you want I could help you with your hair?”

Her cheek presses atop your shoulder, eyes briefly closing before leaning away. “Really? Please, my hair's been bothering me.” To make her point across, she blows at a strand of overgrown hair away from her eyes.

“Alright, just don't yell at me if I fuck up.”

“I've seen you with sharp shit before, I think you'll be fine.” She pats your back before fully facing towards the men and women at the docks. “You should give Pav his present, I think he's starting to get jealous and mopey that he doesn't have his yet.”

Snorting, you nod. Flicking your eyes back at the deck, you see Pavitr looking solemnly below. “I definitely will.” You catch his eyes, and he waves sadly at you. You wave back, grinning at him to placate him before you decide to join him back on the ship. “Before that, thank you for helping my cousins. You were very patient with them.”

“I just treated them the same way we do to newcomers.” Shrugging, she glances at the twins resting on the steps leading up to the helm.

The pair looks like they're sharing a sandwich between each other while they look on in the sidelines. They're still not acclimated to the crew's presence, but in time you know they would befriend them in no time just like they had with you back at the estate.

“And thank you for actually going to the doctors.”

“What's up with the thank yous today, landlubber?” She chortles, eyes narrowed in your direction suspiciously.

“Nothing, why, is it not up to the pirate’s code to show appreciation?” The blond rolls her eyes at your sarcastic remark. “I'm just glad you're not pregnant or something.” You joke, chortling to yourself.

She scoffs, hands casually inside her pockets. "Don't worry about me, worry about yourself.”

“What does that mean?” Your head whips towards her, brow raised questioningly with a nervous smile.

“You know what I mean, landlubber, you're in more danger to that…parasite than I am.” She roams her eyes over to you with a knowing glance. Before you could retort back at her, she's called by Hobie. To add salt to your offended wound, she snickers while shaking her head at you disappointedly. “You're not allowed on the bowsprit with Hobie anymore by the way.”

You stand there, mouth agape and feigning anger. “What?! Why?”

“You know why! You two are a hazard!” As she joins Hobie, he looks at the two of you with a confused look. To which you just shrug with a smile, a reassurance that you and Gwen are just playing along.

As you watch them evaluate more pirates and now that you’re alone, you feel the slithering gnawing blight eating at the pit of your stomach. The same thorn prickling in your throat. An awful feeling that you can't just wave away with a shake of your head. It's as if all the good will be snuffed out by something horrible. It's an irrational fear and you know that it is, but the feeling still won't fade away with just knowing that it's nothing but an irrational thought. So as you move forward to the gangway, intending to fill that darkened sickening feeling, you spot the old man in the same place where you first saw him. This time, he attempts contact by waving at you before regretting his decision right away and scrambling back into a dark alleyway.

“Love!” Hobie’s call has your attention taken away from the mysterious pirate. “What do you think about my pick so far?” He gestures around a group of thirty pirates or so with his arms spread wide.

They all look like proper pirates, tough and rough around the edges. They hail from different walks of life, different ages, different builds, different ethnicities, but there's one similarity— and that's the fact that they're all packing firepower. Guns in all shapes and sizes, long barrels and shorter ones, even ones with two or more barrels. Some are intricate, the others look like any other musket or blunderbuss in the market or perhaps taken from an unfortunate soul. A few carry cutlasses, axes, and even a couple with whips and weapons that you don't even know the name of. They clearly brought it to show that they're capable of wielding it in battle.

You don't have to tell Hobie and Gwen that it takes more than brute strength to get into the notorious bloodsail pirates. They have to be cunning too, and most days it's just smooth sailing on the open sea so they have to be an expert when it comes to just being that— sailors. All their guns and blades won't save the ship when a hurricane threatens to sink it.

Within the group, a few others catch your eyes. One has a parrot perched over his shoulder, and you're more intrigued by the colourful bird than its owner. There are a few women within the ranks, a couple with chopped short hair, and three with a menacing look in their eyes that could bring the waves itself to a halt. You have no qualms or opinions about your captain's choices when you trust his and the quartermaster's judgement. They have more experience with this than you do anyway.

“They're good, I think.” You look at Hobie apologetically whilst you're stopped in the middle of the creaking gangway. “As long as they won't kill us in our sleep.” That earned a few chuckles from the chosen group. “I trust your judgement, captain. Don't forget to hire a good cook.”

“I won't, can't have you makin’ our hardtack with extra hardness anymore.” Hobie cracks a smile at that. His eyes wordlessly speak to you, grey softening as he resists the urge to climb up the gangway to hold your hand. He can't show weakness towards this new crew, lest they think about starting a mutiny against him. So for now, he acts like a captain should towards his crew mate. “Go and interrogate your surgeon.”

On any other day, you'd tease him by asking him to say please. But for today, you just nod, eyes glinting with promised playfulness for later as you walk up the gangway.

“Right! We need a hundred and fifty more!” Hobie yells, and the crowd grows impatient, screaming above each other as they yell out their credentials.

You're glad that it's not your job, especially that you know that it'll take Hobie and Gwen the rest of the day to find the needed crew. Or even a couple of days to find reliable ones. They could just find half of them for now, but with all the preparations expedited by Thorpe himself, the bloodsails need the extra hands. Just like Clayton said, Thorpe's patience isn't the size of the sea. You still don't like the fact that he has his ravens— his daughters keep watch on the progress.

The faster the ship gets to sailing, the quicker you get to the Immortal and to freedom and sailing wherever you please with your family. Those words seem to repeat in your head over the past few days.

The twins immediately spot you from the stairs. They look a lot better than when you found them. A healthy colour returning to their sickly and dried skin, stomachs full with food and water. They may not look like how you met them before with their finer clothing and shining jewels, but they look fine— taken care of. Slowly the light in their eyes are returning back to their luster, and they seem to smile more as they greet you.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Yuri greets you from the bannister, hand gently caressing Lyla's hair. She’s sitting on the polished deck, while Lyla rests her head on the ravenette’s lap, glasses askew as she fights off sleep. “Supper’s in the galley if you want some.”

“Thanks, Yuri.” You sigh, shoulders falling limp the moment you step right into home. “Please tell me it's not hardtack.”

“Nope, your cousins helped, it’s fried fish with some fancy sauce your girl made.” She tucks Lyla's hair behind her ear, showing off the shell earring you gave to her that matches Yuri's. “It was really good together. I still can't believe aristocrats know how to work a stove.”

“Her name's Collette, and the other one is Jonathan.” You correct her with a small smile. “Thanks for letting them help.”

“No problem, they're actually really polite. Nicer than this bitch anyway." Poking Lyla's cheek, she doesn't reply back with a biting quip to match Yuri's since she's already fast asleep.

There's a fond smile on her face, dark eyes turning soft as she gazes at Lyla. Her expression reminds you of how you look at Hobie, how you look at him with such great love that you start to think that this is how your parents loved each other— gazed at each other as if this is the greatest thing that they'll ever experience in life. And it is, you know that it is whenever you glance his way.

Intending to tease Yuri, you decide to let her go this time. You'll get your payback one day for all the teasing remarks thrown at you and Hobie whenever the two of you are being smitten to each other. But not today as Yuri cradles Lyla gently, a hand caressing her back mindlessly as she lets her sleep.

With a knowing look, you let them be. The doctor stands awkwardly in the sidelines, shuffling his feet by the gangway like he's too afraid to go further into the ship. You realize that you've almost forgotten about checking his credentials.

“Hi—” you start, barely even stepping close before he almost fell over the gangway if not for your hand grabbing his bag and tugging him back. “Shit, you alright?” Pulling him back on steady feet, or as steady as his nervous wobbling could be, he swallows thickly, hand scratching at his beard whilst you let go of his medicine bag.

“I–I'm fine, sorry.” He winces, eyes roaming around the ship rather than to your face. “Just a bit nervous is a–all.” His accent runs thick, tone staggering over his own words.

“Don't be, they might look menacing but if you're good to the crew they're good to you, doctor…?”

“Oh!” Dark brown eyes widen at your question, hand immediately reaching for a greeting which you shake briefly. “Doctor Aarav. I have my papers with me—!” He almost falls backwards again, but you're quicker this time, pulling him away from the ledge and into a safer area of the ship. You make a mental note to have him stay below deck during the inevitable flighting. “I am sorry, again.”

“It's fine, let's move farther away from the gangway shall we?” Leading him towards the stairs, you sit him down now that you know he's a hazard on his feet. “Is this your first time being a ship doctor?”

“N–No.” He utters while rummaging through his belongings. “I–I mean yes, I've been a doctor for three years, but n–never a ship doctor.”

The twins watch on with curious eyes further above the stairs, and you smile back, wordlessly telling them to stay before they could move away to give you two privacy.

“Do you know anything about surgery? How to treat scurvy? The plague? Bullet wounds?”

“Yes. To– to all of them.” He manages a small smile, handing you pieces of paperwork that's neater than any of your medical pamphlets combined. It's his medical diploma, citing that he graduated right in the capital. The stack also has his identification papers, a few others in a different language you can't read but judging by the looks of it they look official. “My specialty is wound care mostly, a–and I have experienced treating plague patients back during the outbreak.”

“You graduated from the top medical school in the capital but you're here. Why?” Eyes narrowing suspiciously at him, he shivers from your gaze like a drenched cat. Possible traitors in your midst have always been in the back of your mind, especially after what happened to the bloodsail pirates and to Hobie three years ago.

“Simply.” Clearing his throat, he straightens his back, hand atop the other to stop his trembling. “Simply because no one would hire me. And no one wanted to be tended by me. Being a ship doctor is my only option, I heard pirates aren't picky as long as you do the job. I've got no choice, I don't want to go home like this.” A failure, you know that expression all too well. “The people back in the main island drove me out, simply because…” he gestures around his form. “I don't look like a doctor. Or a surgeon for that matter.” He chuckles bitterly.

You nod at that, understanding what he truly meant. Your mother always told you about all the times she was rejected at those schools, raved about the horrible system of only choosing students who came from legacy, or the ones who look like they could be good for their image. If she didn't change her manner of study to being a midwife, and snuck into other classes, she wouldn't be as good as she is at her job, and in turn teaching you everything she managed to learn. During your travels, you've heard that the schools got more lenient with their enrollees, but not as much as back during Jessica's time.

Sometimes in the dark, with Hobie's soft snores wafting over your cheek, you wonder if you would've gotten into one of those schools just from merit alone.

“And yet you managed to get in.” You say, eyes staring right into his own. He struggles to meet with yours, but he fights the urge to look away as if his life depended on it. “That means you're good then.”

“Top of my class.” Aarav says with pride.

Lips curling into a smile, you hand him his papers back. “You know what this entails don't you? This job, you have to be one of us. Not just our surgeon.”

“I do.” He says without missing a beat.

“Welcome to the crew, Doctor Aarav, come back here before we set sail. If you need to do something else, now's the time to do it.”

“I'm in?” He asks, bewildered.

“‘course, honestly you've got better credentials than I do. I didn't formally study for this.”

“Not everyone is fortunate enough. I've known other doctors that are even better than the ones who formally studied for it.” Placing his papers back in his bag, he seems calmer now that you've hired him. “May I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Shoot?”

“Oh, a friend told me it means ‘go on.’”

“You're already their ship doctor, why do you need another one?” Fiddling with the clasp on his bag, he stands up, albeit slightly shaky.

“Do you see those people down there?” You gesture towards the crowd below the ship as he takes a peek over the bannister while being more careful. “Imagine that half of them are bleeding and wounded, or even all of them. Blood coating the deck, bullet wounds, severed arms and legs, I wouldn't be able to handle all of that on my own. Back then I could manage, but with a ship as big as this, it needs at least two hundred souls to sail it to where we're going.”

The doctor inhales deeply. “That’s daunting.”

“Still think you can manage? Granted I'll be learning quite a bit under Doctor Octavius while we're here, but you're technically my senior so, perhaps I'll follow your lead when we're in the thick of it.”

His eyes widen briefly, but after a beat, he nods. “I'll manage, I'll do my best, doctor.”

A wide grin spreads on your face. “Another doctor called me a doctor today, I like it.” The comment itself was more for yourself than for him.

Aarav smiles back, too nervous to say anything back or not finding the right words to reply with as he timidly side steps back to the gangway and awkwardly leaves.

Hobie notices him leave, and he turns his head up towards you. He does a thumbs up and then a thumbs down, asking about your decision. With a thumbs up, you let him know as he nods curtly at you.

You wink back cheekily and subtly, he steps over his own coat, before slyly leaning against Gwen as if nothing happened. You almost let out a guffaw from that.

“I think he's afraid of you, cousin.” Collette walks down the steps in a gliding manner as if she's still wearing a heavy gown. Her brother follows closely behind, picking at a dried up tar on the back of his hand.

“Hobie? No, he's not afraid of me.”

“I was talking about the wobbly doctor.” Smiling, she joins you on the bannister while the three of you watch the organized chaos below.

“I think he's just afraid of pirates in general.” You look at her in the corner of your eyes.

“Well he should be,” she adds, “afraid of you, that is.”

“Are you afraid of me, Collette?” You ask, trying not to sound too unhappy about her words. That's the last thing you want, to make them fear you.

“I've…heard about what happened in the church at the plaza through Yuri.” Nervously playing with a ribbon tied around her wrist, she inhales. “I'm not afraid of you cousin, No, to them you're the bloody duchess, to us you're just ‘cousin.’ The same one who walked into the estate with trepidation and sadness. No matter how bloody you get, that's still you.”

“And we don't intend to offend you! If that's what you're thinking.” John chimes in, eyes more focused on Hobie. “Collette’s right, we're not afraid of you, that's one of the reasons why we're here. We see you as you are.”

“Or maybe that's not me anymore. That cousin you first met may not be here anymore.” Your nails dig into the wooden bannister, creaking under your strained touch. “I can't promise to you that you won't starve or die when we're out there.”

“We also know that… with what we gathered, no person would be the same after what you had to do.” John continues to pick at the dry spot on the back of his hand. “You're capable of good even after what happened to you.” He glances at his sister briefly. “Some people may fear you and Hobie, but that fear might keep me and my sister safe. We know what revolutions entail, our blood defines us back home, and it could get our heads cut off too. Mother and father knew that. But the people don't fear them.”

“You're the beginning of a ghost story back home, did you know that?”

“What?” You almost flinch away.

“Before we left, you and the bloodsail pirates were what everyone else talked about. Especially you, a noble wearing a bloody wedding dress, who decided to save a pirate right in front of everyone.” Collette's eyes shine. “You defied…everything.”

For a minute, you let their words wrap around your mind. They sound like fanatics when you don't even deserve such a thing. Maybe that's why they're truly here, or perhaps they are telling the truth about their parents and the queen's summon, that they don't have any other choice but you. You'd rather not ask them anymore when it would take you to dredge up the past once more. All you know is that they need your help.

‘A ghost story,’ you almost scoffed at that. You were just trying to save the love of your life, nothing else mattered, even if you died with him right there and then. The cousin and the person who struck the queen—That same person in the church all those months ago is still you, blood and all. But you won't let that singular moment defy your whole self nor your life. It is still you, but you're more than the bloodied wedding dress and the sinking dagger. Just like how Hobie isn't whatever ship he sails or his crew. The two of you aren't twin blades meant to cause wounds, sheathed or unsheathed, you're more than that, he's more than that. You're just someone trying to live beside him. And he's just someone trying to live fully with you.

Like the twins, they're just trying to stay alive. Taking their chances with you just like how you did with Hobie and the crew months ago. You were in their shoes back then, the desperation and the fear, you know it too well, and you see it in their young faces.

“I don't know about all of that, or care about any of it.” You say through clenched teeth. “Just this,” looking around the ship, you gesture towards your family and crew. “Nothing but this.” Grasping their arms, you let your words get to them. “I don't want to kick you out, or leave you two all alone here. That’s why I'll try to protect the two of you, but I can't promise you safety.”

You gently take John's hand, stopping him from picking relentlessly at the dried up tar lest it takes his skin with it. Instead, you take a fragrant oil from your bag, drenching his hand and letting it set. “Not with the situation at hand. So tell me, one last chance, decide what you want to do. Do you wish to stay with me? Our journey won't be easy, you won't be my only priority, but I can't help but worry about you two all the time.”

“We’ll try not to be a burden to you, cousin.” Collette holds your hand that's atop Jonathan's as he nods at his sister's words. “We don't want to be alone out there. It's better to be with family. Alis volat propriis. We must fly, just like you have.”

Nodding, you weigh all the possibilities in your mind. All the outcomes of various decisions, everything from leaving them on the island to sending them back home. Out of sight and out of mind, but with them away from you, your worries could worsen. Someone like Mickey could get their hands on them, a disgusting pirate with ill intentions towards them. It's better for them to be with you, to be with people you know that will watch out for them just like you would. Even if it means dragging them halfway across the world towards uncertain fates.

It's their decision, and they made that abundantly clear from the start.

“I've got conditions.” You say, eyeing the peeling tar on John's skin as you gently scrape it off painlessly. They look at you with anticipation. “One, you learn how to defend yourselves, two, only call me cousin when we're alone or when we're with the original crew to protect your identities. Third, you do as I say during battles, no exceptions especially when we're really in it. If I say run, you run. If I want you to hide, you hide. Understood?”

“We understand.” They simultaneously say.

“And fourth, write to your parents—” they begin to voice their protests and you let them air their grievances out for a minute until they run out of air. “You don't have to tell them where you are or who you're with, just two words are fine.” Meeting with their eyes, you silently plead. “Just tell them that you're alright. That's all.”

“They won't care.” Collette utters in a smaller tone. “Even if they receive the letter, they won't care.”

“Or they might.” Your simple words strike them in their heart. “Just one letter, that's all I ask from the both of you.”

The twins gaze at each other with mirrored furrowed brows. For a second, you thought they'd object again, but they nod, accepting your terms.

“Thank you,” Collette grasps your elbow, squeezing once while John still struggles to wrap his mind around the proposed letter to their parents. They both look conflicted, as if you threw a hammer and shattered their plans. “We'll do all that and more, cousin.”

“Good,” they begin to walk away as you sigh, trying to rid of all the complicated thoughts in your mind. You just hope that you won't regret letting them stay, you truly care for them. But for better or worse, you're stuck with them. “Wait, I almost forgot.” They pause in place and you toss them the pile of clothes you've brought for them. They fumble to catch it, but their frowns are replaced with a grin as they see what's in their arms. “It's not much but—!” Collette collides with you, hugging you tightly.

“Thank you.” She says against your shoulder, and John gazes at the two of you softly, unshed tears in his eyes as he says the same two words to you.

Pulling away, your steely gaze roots them in place. “I'm not a ghost story, remember that.”

They could only nod, leaving you by the helm as they clutch onto their new clothes.

You catch Pav walking by, or more like stomping away towards the lower deck. Gwen's right, he's all mopey. “Hey, Pav!” Quickly running to him, you grab the remaining presents intended for him, skidding in front of him, and placing them right in his palms. “Don't think that I've forgotten about you.”

He eyes the fragrant tea bricks and the jar of fresh coconut oil. “I thought you did…” his lips wobble, and you pat his head for extra reassurance.

“You? Never.” Smiling, he swats your hand away while his eyes look over the roofs nearby. “What? Too embarrassed now for head pats because of your crush?”

“What—N–no! I just don't want you messing my hair up!” He makes a face, as if he's holding his embarrassment back with a faux confident and nonchalant look.

“Of course, Pavitr, of course.” Grinning, you watch as he huffs away with amusement. If only Hobie was with you, he'd tease him some more but you can't bear to rag on kindhearted Pavitr.

Before he could get far, Pav turns towards you, eyes shining with happiness. “Thank you!” He then continues to stomp away below deck. Maybe he thinks that Gayatri is hiding on one of the roofs.

“You're welcome, kid.” Inhaling, your ankle pinches again, add that with your growling stomach, you decide to head to the galley to get something to eat before burrowing into the covers. Hopefully Hobie will join you in the middle of all of that. But before you walk down the stairs leading below deck, you stop by Lyla and Yuri, who are still watching the selection below. All except for Lyla who's completely snoring on Yuri's lap.

“Yuri,” you whisper to her, and she looks up at you through tired eyes. “Don't tell stories about me to my cousins anymore.”

She blinks, brows knitted in confusion. “Alright…why?”

“I don't want them to get any…exceptional ideas about me.”

“Sure.” She nods, either understanding the weight of your explanation or she doesn't want to question your odd request anymore. Keeping your business all to yourself instead of bringing herself into it. That's Yuri, she has a few exceptions to that of course, usually it's to tease, but you can always count on her to speak her mind or in this case, keep it to herself.

“Thank you,” as you begin to walk away, she calls your name back and you look over your shoulder to address her.

Yuri inhales deeply through her nose and exhales through her mouth, a wordless instruction. Or perhaps an advice. “Yeah?”

Copying her previous action, you nod a thanks. “Yeah.”

“Carry on, doc, I'll watch over them.”

—

The second you enter the galley, the savoury smell greets you. But what you didn't expect is a large stone mortar and pestle that you've never seen before in the ship that's nestled in between the fried fish and the sauce Collette had made.

It's just you in the room, save for the clinking pans and food waiting for you, there's nothing but silence in the galley. Not a single soul to accompany you.

You slowly close in on the mortar and pestle, expecting some rice or even crushed herbs. Your hands and joints tense up when you find it empty save for a piece of paper.

The memories of your childhood replays through your mind as you free yourself from the heavy satchel. Breath stuck in your throat, a cold sweat running down your back, you can hear the shattering of the mortar and pestle as it lands near your feet. The ferns and dried grass brushing against your legs as you run as fast as you could. When you blink, you return to the solid mortar and pestle, and the slight rocking of the ship against the waters.

You're not there anymore. You're home now, no more running away.

With a staggered breath, your thumbs brush along the mouth of the rough instrument, you take the slip of paper inside that has your name and a small letter written on it.

“‘To our ship doctor, if all else fails, you can use this as a weapon. Love from the whole crew.’” Smiling, then chuckling, your laughing turns into silent sobs. The flood gates open and you can't help the tears from dropping down against the stone, leaving dark dots littered all around the grey.

You slide the heavy mortar and pestle into your arms, hugging it against your chest and slowly drop down on the floor, cradling it as you let everything out. The wooden dam in you breaks from all the cracks, water rushing out of you in waves after everything that has transpired. You can handle it when they're around you, helping you ground yourself to the present. But now that they're not, you collapse under it.

Maybe it's the suffocating feeling of grief or the drowning anxiety. You truly don't know which is which that has you sobbing on the floor, chest hurting and vision turning everything into watercoloured lights. You only know that it has its grip on you, gnawing at your skin and stomping right on your stomach.

This ship and everyone else on it, that's what matters now. Before you had nothing but the clothes on your back and the knowledge that you were fortunate enough to learn. You've got everything to lose now. You may not be built for this kind of life, but you're good at it. And your family's here, everything else will just have to wait for now.

You've chosen this life, so you'll walk through it with pride.

As you sit there, hands grasping the rough gift, you hear their voices through the wood, echoing muffled incoherent words but you know which voice belongs to who, and whose footsteps are walking above the deck. The sound calms you like how the sound of waves wash away the tensed muscles in your body. You're never truly alone, and you hope— wish that'll be the case in the unforeseen future.

When Hobie doesn't appear whilst his voice turns raspy outside the ship, still trying to find the right crew, you decide to read the letters from Jessica and Miguel.

In your shaky hands, instead of dread and despair written out in their hands like you thought it would be— it's hope and love. They ask for you, wishing that the letters would get to you in one piece especially that they just guessed your destination. They know you by heart.

Miguel is somewhere in the countryside, not writing why he's there, but he wished that you were right there with him. He even pressed a sprig of dried lavender into the letter, telling you that the smell might remind you of your mother when it was her favourite. Then he asks about you and your pirate, you can practically see how his eyes roll at his own question.

And your mother, Jessica, who risked life and limb to save you, said that she's happy and content with her husband and even a baby on the way. ‘A baby brother,’ she wrote, ‘you’ll be a big sister.’ Choking down on a happy sob, you press your lips on the paper, tears sliding down your cheeks with every word they've written.

With a lighter heart, you hope you could visit them someday. For now, you'll find the time to write back. And yet you feel that it's better to see them for yourself, you'll be lying if you said you don't miss them. Maybe you could say all the words you needed to say to them in person but never had the courage to during the last time you saw them.

If you live to see the day that is.

#hypefix wip reblog

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hyperfix-wip · 14 days ago

Text

Gotta spread the word 🥺

Ship to Wreck

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Synopsis: The ship preparations begins for a long journey ahead.

Word count: 15.9k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, reader has nicknames, pirate AU, a sequel to BDAS, CW food mentions, TW panic attack, CW suggestive, CW violence mention, inaccurate medical treatment, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff!

A/N: this is the cropped version (with the next part linked below), if you're looking for the whole part it's in my Masterlist below. Let's hope this one appears in the tags lol

Beyond the Sea of Night Masterlist

Navigation

Chapter 5 >>> Chapter 5 pt 2

“I said red, not orange!” Hobie yells from the deck while ship workers tie the new sails on the rigging. He's fuming, rightfully so when the iconic red sails are now blindingly orange. “Fucking hell, are you lot colourblind?!”

Brushing your hand across his bare back, skin glistening from the sunshine, you press a chaste kiss right on his nape as you feel for his strained muscle. “Calm down, captain, I'm sure they can dye it again.” You say against his neck, and you feel his muscles relax under your palm.

“We're the bloodsail pirates, lovie, not the orangesail pirates.” He says, almost a whine, cheek pressed atop his shoulder as he gazes at you softly.

“I know, I'll talk to James so he can take it back to the sailmakers.” You whisper gently, kissing his cheek and drawing soft circles in between his shoulder blades, the cold feeling from your new ring has him giddy. “Just focus on recruiting the new crew, we'll handle the rest, yeah?”

Nodding, Hobie leans closer and pecks your forehead. “Please, thank you, scuttlebutt.”

“Look at you being all polite.” Teasing, you make sure you and Hobie are the only people hearing the shared saccharine words.

“Only for you.” Breathlessly sighing while you wipe away sweat from his temple, he resists the urge to kiss you right there and then. Even if it means showing his affections in front of strangers. “Especially after this mornin’” He grins at the memory while you bite your lip and pinch his side.

“Shh, there are ears around.” You begin to walk away before you decide to tug him below deck and pull him inside the shared quarters.

“‘m sure they heard it all already, love.” Calling back, he sends you off with a wink before taking his attention towards your old weathered shoes. “I washed your shoes by the way.”

Eyes shining with a teasing glint, you step closer to him again, finding it hard to leave his side as your index hooks around his belt loop. “I'm trying to remember if that's a euphemism or not.”

“Nah, it's not, lovie. They're dryin’ by our windows.” Hobie chuckles, fingers bracelet around your wrist gently. Not tugging or pulling, just holding you in place and indulging in your presence for one more minute while glancing at the ring around your finger briefly.

“Ah, and here I thought you were asking to ‘wash my shoes.’” You shake your head with a lopsided smile, making air quotes as you slowly back away. While he matches your beaming, hand sliding away from yours reluctantly. “Don't forget to drink water, Hobie.” He nods at that, sending you off with a suave wink before returning his attention towards the botched sails.

“You guys are disgusting.” Miles scrunches his nose, hand pausing around his pencil. He's sitting atop a barrel, no doubt resting after hauling planks of wood aboard for the deck reconstruction.

With Hobie's plans in full swing, the whole ship is in shambles. A few of the decks are missing their staircases, while there are nails and planks that are littered everywhere, you almost tripped on a rope on your way up the upper deck. The sounds of hammering and wood scraping strains your ears. It's all for a good reason though, he plans on scrapping one deck to make more space for when, not if, the ship gets boarded. More room for fighting when there's less terraces around the deck. There's also a plan of adding more gun ports, and cleaning the underbelly of the hull. By the looks of things, the crew are already tired from the renovations. But it's a necessary evil to increase the chances of everyone getting back in one piece now that the news of the royals are somewhere sailing around the seas.

You never truly forgot what the queen did to you and your family.

“Aren't you supposed to be working right now, Miles?” Raising a brow, you dig into your satchel for his present.

All the hubbub around the ship almost made you forget the gifts you bought a couple of days ago. So far, you've only given Yuri and Lyla's gift to them. You even spotted them wearing each earring while they were giggling amongst themselves in a quiet corner of the ship. Probably avoiding work. James was the first crew you came across this morning, so you've taken the time to give him your present, a leather woven belt so he could get rid of his old rope one. He was ecstatic to say the least when he was so excited that he almost put it on in front of you and almost flashed you when his pants fell slightly down his hips. He's now avoiding you from sheer embarrassment.

“I'm on break, landlubber. Aren't you supposed to be working?”

With a smile, now it's Miles’ turn to receive his. Handing him the leather bound sketchbook and drawing charcoal, his face lights up, forgetting his question. Even though he's hiding his expression, it's clear as day when his eyes don't lie.

“You’re a bit late for that.” He shows you his own bag that's filled with a handful of different bounds and sizes of sketchbooks and drawing materials. “I got these from everyone. You do know that art isn't my only hobby?”

“We're just encouraging you.” You raise a teasing brow at him. “And you have other hobbies?”

The navigator flicks an eraser shaving at you, it harmlessly hits your stomach. “Yeah, I like…” he purses his lips together, thinking. “...fishing.”

“I've literally never seen you fish before.” A playful grin spreads across your lips.

“Shut up.” He huffs with a faint smile, flipping through his sketchbook to wordlessly tell you to get going. You were about to leave, until you saw a drawing of you and Hobie, which looks to be the two of you just a few moments ago.

“Wait, is that us?” Turning to face the page better, surprisingly, he shows it to you. It's exactly what you thought it was, it's you standing behind Hobie with your palm resting in between his bare shoulders while you whisper to him as he smiles fondly at you. “That's really good, holy shit.”

“It's just a quick sketch.” He shrugs and turns another page to show you a drawing of Collette and Jonathan while James teaches them how to braid a rope. “I'm trying to draw the whole crew, y’know like to record our adventures.”

Your heart feels warm as you wiggle Miles in place by his bicep. “That's so sweet, Miles!”

“Right, right, stop it.” Swatting your hands away, he hides his smile. “Can you check on Gwen and ask if she's ready to leave? We still need to go to the market and order supplies after.”

“That depends, can I get a copy of that?” Flipping the page back to where you and Hobie were flirting, you smile playfully at Miles. “Please?”

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Sure, whatever. Just get her up here so we can go to the doctor.”

“Wait, that's today and you're coming with? I thought she rescheduled.”

Shrugging, he makes a teasing face. “Sounds like she didn't want you to come to the appointment.”

Pointing at him accusingly, you walk backwards towards the stairs that lead below deck. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this, Morales!

With a smirk, he waves you away. “Sucker.” He snickers, continuing to scribble away.

“Miles!” George calls for him from the docks, “where's Gwen? She'll be late!”

“Shit.”

—

The deepest darkest part of the ship was never your forte, it's like a basement of a tavern, dank and filled with mysterious smells. It's not like you're afraid of the dark, but more of whatever could be stored below. You have no idea what skeletons your family has in store down there. Maybe literal skeletons.

The hold is way below the cabins, past the cannons and the ship armoury. If you're sailing right now, you wouldn't want to be caught here when this place bears the brunt of the waves. Turning it into a swirling pot of sea water and swaying crates filled with heavy supplies that could pose a danger of crushing you under its weight. Even if this place makes you nauseous, and your skin crawl, it's one of the most important parts of the ship. Without it, the whole galleon could sink, and with just a small hole within its hull, it could burst, letting water in until the depths completely devoured the whole place.

To prevent that, the crew has taken the time to pack in the wood properly and take out the older ones to keep the place dry and in turn not let the whole place sink.

“It's basically waterproofing the ship.” You hear Gwen say as you walk around a crate. “Once we find new crew members, we'll get them to do this instead. But you two need to know it since this is the kind of task we do every few months or so.”

“It's that important?” Collette asks while you eavesdrop behind a barrel that smells like wine.

“Aye, if you don't do it properly, water will get inside.” Gwen takes an unraveled rope from a leather bag, it's fluffed up and from where you're standing it smells good, like fresh dewy grass. “Remember, you take your oakum, twist and fold it inside the gaps, pack it in there with the caulking iron and push it with the hammer.” She shows them the steps, instructing them properly like she has done this before. She probably already had, whenever new people join in.

“Then one of you can pour the melted tar into the gap. Once that's dry, you go along the seam with a knife and cut it all leveled until it's just a black line. But for now, just pack it in, we'll get someone else to do the pouring. Maybe the doc can do it.” Gwen looks over her shoulder, raising a pierced brow at you. “You need to know this too, you know.”

You leave your so-called hiding spot, hands inside your trouser pocket and acting casually. “Remind me where packing a ship comes in handy in a medical emergency?”

“A bullet wound.” Tilting her head, Gwen says with a light scoff, knowing that she won. “Remember? You had to shove cloth in my chest—”

“Fine, fine, I get.” You roll your eyes as you sit beside the small group, joining their little training session. “What kind of influence am I to the new crew if I don't learn this, right?” Elbowing John playfully, it earns a giggle from Collette. To add to your teasing, you put your elbow atop your knee and place your chin on your palm, batting your lashes at Gwen. “Question, teacher, what's oakum?” You raise your other hand teasingly, and Gwen rolls her eyes but answers it anyway.

“It's horse hair covered in wax.”

John looks intrigued. “That's pretty amazing, it's because water doesn't cling to wax, right?”

“Exactly.” Gwen nods, “and the tar helps in keeping it all in place.”

Collette raises her hand this time but it's genuine unlike the way you playfully did it. “Can we do it now? We can do the pouring too.”

“I don't see why not. Saves us time while the new people aren't here yet.” Standing up and stretching her back, Gwen nods and lets them take the materials.

“Collette,” you call for the younger twin just as she takes the iron bucket of molten tar. “You should let someone else do that part. You were injured a few days ago.”

“I'm fine now, cousin.” She smiles, lugging the heavy bucket until her brother takes it from her hands. “Jo—!”

“She's right, take it easy, Co. How about you do the packing?” Jonathan looks at you for approval.

With slight apprehension, you nod. “Sure, just please be careful, getting hot tar on your skin is no joke.”

“We'll be careful, don't worry. We got our share of getting burned.” John shrugs it off, and yet your worry persists, and your anger for the pirate who hurt them rears its head.

“I don't care who does which task, just take it slow and make sure it's done right.” Gwen adds as she hauls you on your feet. “This is the kind of job that means fucking up isn't an option.”

Collette inhales shakily while holding the leather bag in one hand and the hammer in the other. She glances at you briefly before nodding and puts on a determined face. “Aye, aye, captain!”

Gwen chuckles, bangs falling over her eyes. “I'm not the captain.”

“Oh.” Wincing, Collette decides to follow her brother towards the port side of the ship to start working.

“But she'd like to be,” you raise your brows at Gwen teasingly. “Right, Gwendy?”

The corner of her lips curl into a smile. “Maybe someday, landlubber— wait, not there.” She calls them back, and the twins flinch away from the wall. “That’s the seam between the keelson and the lowest plank. It's the most uncomfortable seam to work on, especially since this is your first time. It’s a devil to pay and no pitch hot if you don't do it right, trust me. How about you start from where we're standing?” Side stepping, she gives them space to work.

“Devil to pay?” John mumbles to himself while he's hauling the bucket back towards where he started. “Between the keelson…” He gently places the bucket down while Collette starts to unfurl the hemp. “Is that where the saying, came from? The one that goes, ‘between the devil and the deep blue sea?’”

Gwen looks mildly impressed while you blink at the saying. “Yeah, sort of, how'd you know about that?”

“Just around the ship where we sailed from. They said that to us a lot.” He shrugs, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

“What does that mean?” You ask, curious yourself when you've never heard it before.

“It just means that you're stuck in a hard place.” Gwen nudges your shoulder as you nod, already thinking of ways to kick the pirate that went after the twins out of the docks just like before. “C’mon, you're here to take me to the doctor's right?”

“Yeah, hold on, I'll catch up to you. I need to tell them something.” Giving her a small smile, she heads off as you linger in place.

Collette does the packing in with the oakum, slowly and meticulously like a newborn deer finding her legs. Meanwhile John glances at you, lips pursed as he waits for his sister to finish the first seam.

“Do you need something, cousin?” John asks, sweat dripping off his brows. For sure Collette is feeling the same heat on her skin when her cheek reddens slightly.

“Not really, are you sure with this, Jo? I can tell Gwen to put you two in the galley instead, or you can help George with the deck?” You bite the inside of your cheek when they only stare at you. “This seems—” glancing around, it'll take them weeks to even get to the halfway mark with how large the ship is. “— I just don't want you two to exert yourselves. I mean, Collette, you were concussed.”

“And I'm fine now thanks to you, cousin.” She shrugs, lightly tapping the caulking iron against her palm. “Besides, Jojo and I talked about this, we actually chose this job when Gwen asked us what we want to do first.”

Her brother nods. “We want to learn the ropes. And she did say that we're not the only people who are going to do this once Hobie gets more people in.”

Sighing, you can't help but worry about the twins. They are your responsibility. But you know what's probably going on in their minds, that they need to show the pirates that they're useful lest they get kicked out. You knew it well back then, even if you didn't even know how to properly tie a rope, you tried to find something to do just to be useful. Finn helped you back then, you only found out a few months ago that he asked Hobie if you could help him out in the galley instead of you toiling under the sun while mopping the whole deck. For that you're forever grateful for him, you only wish that you could return the favour to him.

“How about you two do rotations on ship tasks? So you could learn everything from maintaining the rigging to making hardtack? Then that's truly learning the ropes.” Your index picks at your thumb's cuticle.

“Isn't this more important?” John asks, and you can tell that the shine in their eyes has been snuffed out by their journey.

Should you send a letter to their parents despite their desires and your own instincts telling you not to? You can't help but feel responsible for their situation and what happened to them.

“They're all equally important I'd say. As ship hands you need to learn all the tasks needed for the ship to function, no matter how small or important it is.”

They glance at each other for a moment, wordlessly conversing like they have some sort of twin telepathy. “Alright, can you tell Gwen? She kind of scares us.”

Chuckling, you pat Collette’s head and clasp John's shoulder. “I'll tell her, don't worry. And she's nice once you get to know her.”

With a smile, they sigh in relief. “Thank you, we promise we won't disappoint you or the crew.” She puts on a brave face, perhaps not for you but for her brother.

“Here,” you hand them your waterskin that you just refilled. “don't forget to drink some water. And if it gets too hot in here, don't be afraid to come out for air, alright?”

“We'll be fine, go, they need you up there.” Jonathan says, letting his sister drink first while he gestures with his chin pointed at the ceiling.

“Right,” walking backwards, you spare them one last glance before the small of your back hits the corner of a crate. “I'll be back, do you need anything in the market? Some new clothes perhaps?” Eyeing their rags, you can still see the remnants of their fine garbs amongst the fading cloth.

Collette's face brightens. “Please! We'd love that.”

“If it's not any trouble.” Smiling like this is the first time he has heard good news, John nods enthusiastically.

“No trouble at all. Be careful with that tar, cousins.” Waving back, you head upstairs towards the winding hallways and up to the upper deck. The fresh air eases your worries a little bit once you push the door open, and Miles waits beside it, greeting you with a flat look. “Where's Gwendy?”

He sniffs, pointing at the pair arguing near the mast. George says something to Gwen, and she rolls her eyes at his words. He grasps her elbow, and she flinches away. Her narrowed eyes glare at him before shaking her head and turning towards the gangway. You share an awkward look with Miles as she stares at the two of you with a heated gaze.

“Let's go! I have shit to do!”

Miles hurries up immediately, lugging his satchel around like you do. The two of you look like a couple of scholars with large bags of books heading towards class. Maybe in a different life.

Before you go down the gangway, you look for Hobie's familiar back, finding him atop the mast, effortlessly climbing around the rigging to help the hired hands in taking off the bright orange sails. You smile at him as if he could see you from way up there, and as fate would have it, he senses you, waving down at you while the sun shines behind him. He's but a mere silhouette in your vision, but you can feel his fondness from below. You blow him a quick kiss that you know will keep him motivated through the day before you leave the ship.

You catch up to Miles and Gwen, hearing the tail end of their hushed conversation. “He just wants to see if you're alright. He's your father.”

“And yet he still won't tell me that he's leaving.” Gwen answers through her teeth. “He told you, and he doesn't even like you.”

“He likes me enough.” Miles scrunches his nose, taking her hand subtly while you watch behind them with a tamped down smile. “Just give him time, maybe he's still thinking about it.”

Distracted by their clear affection, you trip on a rock, almost fumbling over them as they finally realize that you're with them. You give them an embarrassed smile. “Hi, lovebirds, lovely day out, huh?”

“Why did you have to tell her, Miles?” Gwen pointedly asks, but her hand remains around his.

“She sniffed it out,” he says with a wince. “You know her, always asking questions.”

“Hey! First of all, he told me willingly and…” you throw your arms around their shoulders as you squeeze yourself in between them just to annoy the young couple. “...second of all, I'm right fucking here. The two of you talk like I'm not!”

“Do you hear something, Gwen?” Miles peeks over you to look at Gwen, all the while acting like he's ignoring you.

“Nope, just some bird chirping in my ears.”

“You two are perfect for eachother.” Rolling your eyes and butting their heads together playfully and gently, you then let go of them in favour of speed walking around them to get ahead and lead the way. “Come on, you're already late!”

“The other way!” They yell simultaneously and you change the direction or where you're going.

—

You feel like you're in a candy store, if the candy store is filled with ampules of unknown liquids, jars with specimens that are floating around in amber coloured water, and drying herbs hanging from the ceiling. The doctor's office reminds you of the little cabin you once lived with Jessica. Down to the root smelling air, and over to the various stacks of thick books, it's as if you're back home.

It's just like any regular shop in the streets of the shambles, a large window with plenty of medical tools on display, some you've never seen before. And a lot of them seemingly looks like torture devices than for medical tools. On one side of the shop are various mobility tools, wooden legs that look like they're finely made, intricate canes and a handful of hands carved from wood and some made of metal. There are even eye patches hanging from a stack of canes, all different shapes, colours and sizes. One in particular got your eye, it's a heart shaped eye patch that has lace trims all around it. You wonder who would even wear something as gaudy as that. The walls are covered in wound man posters of different wound men and their multitude of injuries. It's as if the doctor is collecting the different posters just for fun.

You wait with Miles outside of the room where the doctor is conducting her check ups and maybe surgeries too since you saw the same metal table sitting right in the middle of the room when the door opened. You happen to have gotten a glimpse of the place, messy was an understatement, an organized chaos, and you thought Hobie's closet was messier. Miles looks more nervous as he stares at a patient sleeping right on a chair, his rounded glasses teeter dangerously off the tip of his nose. He hasn't moved since the three of you got there.

“Is he dead?” Miles voices your own concern.

You eye the man's chest, finding it hard to see if his chest is moving up and down. “I have no idea.”

“Aren't you supposed to know that stuff?”

“Yeah, but I can't fucking see if he's breathing from here.” You whisper yell, and Miles makes a face, a little worried and disturbed while he waits with a presumed corpse.

“Well, can you check?”

“Check? You fucking check!”

Slapping your bicep, he urges you with a frantic look. “Go see! That's your job!”

Scoffing, you fold your arms over your chest like a petulant child. “On the ship, yeah, but not out here.”

“You—!” The door opens suddenly, and out comes Gwen, who's looking happier than before. “Gwen!” Miles says too enthusiastically as he bolts up from his seat.

“Thanks doctor Octavius.” She smiles at Miles briefly before handing the doctor the payment.

“What's wrong with her?” You beat Miles at asking the glaring question. “Is she alright?”

The doctor, who introduced herself to you as doctor Olivia Octavius, adjusts the big rounded glasses on her face. Her wild hair is hastily tied with a colourful hair band, and she's sporting a crisp white button up that's a direct contrast to her clinic and the mismatched cloth of her long flowy skirt.

“Nothing, I believe that it's stress.” Her eyes twinkles as you and Miles sigh in relief. “Her wound was grievous, yes, but it's still healing and the stress on her body is the one that's causing the ache, and unintentionally slowing the healing process.” She mimes out, as if she was the one who was shot right on the chest. “I suggested that she retire from sea faring—”

“Which is bullshit.” Gwen interrupts.

Octavius adjusts the heavy glasses on her face. “As I was saying, I did tell her to ease up. Of course she refused so I've given her a tincture to help lessen the pain while she's still healing. A temporary measure. But I have warned her that it could get worse if she doesn't pace herself.”

“In other words, I'm fine, doc.” Gwen smiles smugly, ignoring the doctor's last comment as she returns to Miles’ side, immediately taking his hand as he gazes at her lovingly. It's the same eyes Hobie gives you when he's finally by your side after almost a whole day of not being with you.

“Well I already know that.” Olivia snorts.

“I was actually talking about her, our ship doctor.” Gwen says as she throws her arm over Miles’ shoulders. She's clearly relieved herself now that she has a proper confirmation that she's alright. “She's the one that I was talking to you about. The one we fished out, with the questionable ancestry.”

“Again, I'm right here.” You mumble as the older doctor walks over to you and takes your hand, shaking it in greeting.

“Ah! A fellow doctor! And a woman too!” She shakes your hand excitedly while you return it with a strained smile. “It's nice to finally meet another doctor that doesn't have a mustache!”

“You should see her under the sunlight, it comes out just over her lip.” Miles takes a jab at you, and you stare at him with a shocked and offended look.

You turn towards the doctor and stop her hand from shaking yours too much, lest you'll need one of the wooden hands in her shop. “It’s nice to meet you too, but I'm not a proper doctor like you. I didn't study at a fancy school. I trained under my mother, well she's technically a midwife— where's Miles and Gwen?” Looking around, you see that there's no sign of the couple. “Shit—”

“Still!” Olivia's voice peaks, almost making you jump in place. She leans close to you until you could see yourself in her glasses. “I heard of your achievements while out at sea! And as if any of us surgeons slash doctors have studied this! It's all in the apprenticeship under actual professionals— which speaking of, I heard that you could be interested in?”

She has been rambling too quickly for you to even catch any of her words. But you did hear the word apprenticeship, which after connecting the dots, you understand what she was talking about.

“Uh, sure. But I can only stay until we finish our ship—” before she could reject, you show her your coins. “I can pay though! Just teach me anything that could help me with tending to my crew.”

Leaning away, the woman's lips curl into a smile. “You're the bloody duchess, I see now,” she nods, “Thorpe told me about you.” Tapping her chin, she looks like she's thinking while looking straight into your soul as if she's evaluating your character. “Tell you what, I'm not going to accept you,” your face falls. “just because the big scary man told me to take you in. But I'm going to give you a shot.” She walks over to the presumed dead man sitting in the corner.

“A–A shot?!” You worry if it's an actual bullet, or a medicine delivered through a sharp needle. You've only heard of that in books.

“Yes, if you could diagnose this man without touching him—” Kicking the poor man's chair, he snorts and wakes up. Clearly not dead as he glares at Olivia. “Then I'll teach you and be my temporary apprentice.”

“Without touching?” She nods, smiling like a smug cat. “Can I ask him questions?”

“Smart,” she snaps her fingers and points at you. “You've got three questions.”

“Right.” You stare at the man, and he seems more willing to participate than before. He's grumbling, but at least he's sitting still. “What hurts?” With your question, the older woman puts a finger down out of three.

“My, you're a polite one ain't you? No bedside manner whatsoever.” The stranger raises a brow, and the doctor has to kick his chair again. He winces, glaring back at her briefly before turning towards you. “Everything hurts.”

“Big help.” You sarcastically say, the real meaning flying over his head as he smiles toothily. His smile is a big evidence of his illness when his gums are bleeding. That narrows it down for you as you take note of it. “I'm guessing you have joint pain.” He nods, and Olivia puts another finger down. “Wait, that's not a question!”

“It sounded like it.” She shrugs, urging you to continue with a gesture.

Sighing, you're more careful of your next words. You take note of how tired the old man was before and even now that his eyes slowly droop down as he fights sleep. He has some bruising on his arm, so you narrow your gaze to find more evidence. His hair is dry and messy, but that's probably just from the salty sea water. Then he shifts in his seat, groaning and snorting as he settles back down again to sleep. Tilting your head, you notice that his right foot never moved, it has stayed in the same spot since you walked in. It either hurts, or it's paralyzed. Either way, you can't figure it out unless you take off his shoe or ask the same question again only to be hit with the same answer.

“Well?”

Inhaling, you flick your eyes over to her. “It's scurvy.”

“Half of the people on this island have scurvy, a child could see that he has it but what else does he have?” Leaning casually on the wall, she taunts you with raised brow and subtle smile. “Come on, ask your last question.”

Flexing your hand, you regret not giving Gwen her present when your satchel feels like it weighs heavier than ever. “Does he have a fever?”

“Nope!” She pops her p’s.

No fever, his ‘everything hurts’ comment could pinpoint the fact that his joints hurt, add his age and his time at sea— you have two options, it's dysentery or gout. But since he doesn't have a fever, nor is puking everywhere. It could be the latter just based on the fact that he prefers his left leg than the right. It's a stretch obviously, it could just be a sprain.

Seeing Octavius practically bounce on the balls of her feet, you take that it's not some ordinary sprain. There's another way to prove it though, one that doesn't require you to ask another question.

Without another word, you take off your or Hobie's leather vest for that matter, fumbling a bit when your satchel blocks the way from your arm. But once you untangle it, you toss it over to his right foot, leather soaring briefly until it lands on him. And to your relief, he immediately wakes up, almost jumping in his seat and crying in pain once the fabric merely touches his foot.

“Motherfucker!” The man grabs the vest and throws it back at you angrily. “Why'd you do that?!”

“Sorry.” With a tamped down smile, you look at Olivia. “It's gout.”

She claps her hands loudly and with a rambunctious guffaw. “Good! How'd you know? Gout isn't a sailor's disease.”

“Even with his age, I figured that he's a new pirate. Everyone here knows what scurvy is and how to basically cure it, hence why he's here to get help from you, because he doesn't know what he has.” Her grin widens with each explanation. While the man’s mood sours even more. “And I also guessed that he's been on his ass for longer than he was at sea. He probably needs money that's why he's now a pirate. So his gout must've been with him for far longer since he favours his left foot.” You finish with a flair as you put the vest and satchel back on you. “I thought it was dysentery, but no fever.”

“I'm right here!” He yells, yelping and regretting his scream when he accidentally moves his foot.

“Where'd you learn that little trick?” Olivia ignores him in favour of placing all her attention on you. Her eyes sparkled even more.

“My mother,” you smile at the memory of Jessica taking you with her during one of her housecalls. “That was a quick way for her to diagnose people with gout since she doesn't want to touch their feet. She hates doing that so she found a different way.”

“Genius.” She mirrors your smile, maybe she has her own fond memory of her teacher. “You got most of it right though.” Sauntering over to you, clasping your shoulder as you see yourself in the reflection of her glasses, the corner of her lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Except for the fact that he's a pirate. Ain't that right, dad?”

“I'm not some no good pirate! I'm here to visit my no good daughter!” Exclaiming, he hobbles up to his feet. Now you see the resemblance in their faces. “I got this shit because of the long fucking journey.” He grumbles away, wobbling towards the room whilst still mumbling.

“I'll see you in there, dad! I'll get you a big glass of lemon juice too!”

“Fuck you!”

She cranes her neck back to you. “Fathers, am I right?”

“Sure.” Your smile falters briefly.

“So when can you start, doc?”

—

After talking to doctor Octavius about the proposed schedule, you decide to walk around the market while you have free time. The sun is high in the sky, and the breezy noon cools your cheeks as wind chimes twinkle around the market. The blacksmith was your first stop so you could commission her the proposed ring for Hobie. You could go to a proper jeweller, but since her skill is tried and tested and how satisfied you are with your ring, you decided to go for her instead. You don't rush it unlike what Hobie did since you’ll be here for a month or two. Plenty of time to wait for the finished product. While you chatted about the design, you learn that her name is Jade, and she even came from the same fishing town you briefly lived in with Aunty Janet and Thena in their little tavern.

After you've given her payment and the silver spoon that she'll use to craft the ring, the heat from the furnace becomes too much for you so you start to walk towards a clothing place to get some fresh clothes for the twins. But you're stopped in your tracks when you see a necklace on display right on a shop's window. It looks antique, and it only needs a good shine for the silver to show. It's not the material that captured your eyes, but the locket-like pendant. It's a simple oval shape but there's a tiny cage inside. It that looks like it could be opened and have something be placed inside it. And it's the perfect size for the black pearl. You've had to change out the strings several times every time it snaps, and Hobie would huff and flash his pretty grey eyes at you until you mend the strings. The necklace would be perfect for that, and it decreases the risk of losing the pearl too. Without a second thought, you enter the shop and drop a few coins on the counter— and actually win at bartering for its price.

It went downhill from there, you went from having a half full bag of coins, to only having a handful left. You doubt you could buy a meal with this after you got the twins new wardrobe. It's not as fancy or as gilded as the ones they wore back at Hazelside, but it's at least their size and they don't have to wear rags anymore. You hope that they like it.

Like before, you feel eyes on your back, but once you turn around, you see no one there. You know it’s the old man that saved you before on the docks. This time, you don't feel perturbed by him, maybe that’s the reason why— knowing that he's not out to get you, not after saving you and the twins when he could've done the opposite while you were vulnerable.

The streets of the shambles now have grown familiar to you as you continue on with a satchel full of things and a coin pouch weighing less. There's a growing thorn in the back of your throat, not like a sickness, but an awful feeling you've felt before, that's when you decide to walk back towards the docks.

When you spot Miles and Gwen out at the market, the thorn fades away.

Her present is still in your satchel but the pair looks like they're having fun just being together and alone for once without the crew, so you decide to leave them alone while they shop for ship supplies. You could only hope that they got everything in yours and James’ list of things to buy while they're distracted by getting lost in each other's eyes.

To none of your surprise, you see James out and about the market too. He's ordering materials for the ship, and he looks so serious while doing it, with none of the joking smiley James that you're used to. He's clearly taking charge of the hired hands as they follow his orders and carry the supplies. You stop by to tell him about the mishap with the sails earlier, the second he sees you, his shoulders sag, and a gentle smile appears on his lips. Almost the same for you every time you see another familiar face within the sea of blank faces.

After you leave, in the corner of your eyes, you get a glimpse of James returning to the more serious side of him, pursed lips and a glare that could rival even Hobie's. If only Ned could see him like this, he'd either get a kick out of it or be proud of James now that he's matured quite a bit that Hobie gave him the task of overseeing the dock renovations.

“They're bloody devourin’ it.”

Suddenly, you hear Hobie's voice coming from somewhere. You feel yourself smile from the familiar tone, it's music to your fatigued ears. Aching feet walking through the streets to find the source, you find him and Pavitr all hunched in an alleyway between the iron heart tavern and an inn.

There's yelps and wagging tails in front of them, they both have their backs to you, seemingly too busy to watch their six as they laugh amongst themselves.

Hobie senses your presence first, hand easing off his gun the second he sees your face. “Hi, love, fancy seein’ you ‘ere.”

“Likewise, captain.” Smiling, you don't waste time in crossing the distance to touch his shoulder. The linen fabric feels warm under your palm, and it grows warmer when he kisses your knuckles. “What are you two even doing here of all places?”

Pavitr beams up at you, grin blindingly light and warm as he crouches beside Hobie. “We found an old friend!”

“You did?” As always, you find his smile contagious. “Who are these little fellas?” Gesturing towards the pack of dogs, they glance briefly at you before returning to their meals. They're all from different breeds, from the smallest to the biggest and to the fluffiest, they all have your heart squeezing in your chest. Adorable is an understatement as your eyes soften at the sight.

“This one is Clover, she's a good dog and used to sail with us. Her job was hunting rats on the ship.” Pav pets the black labrador beside him, she sniffs and licks his hand before chowing down on the piece of meat in front of her. “She was just a little puppy when Riri found her. She was just this big!” He shows you the length of his palm with a big grin.

“She's Riri's dog then?” You listen intently as Hobie tugs you gently down beside him and in between Pav to join them.

“She's everyone's dog. Can't believe she's been ‘ere waitin’ for us this whole time.” Hobie gives you a soft smile, one that he only reserves for you. As you loop your arm around his, you feel his body relax and meld against yours. Like a pair of wings. “We decided to put Thorpe's money to good use.”

There's a small pile of cooked meat that's placed on a wooden plank just for them. The dogs are clearly happy with the fancy meal as they share it with each other and devour it while licking their snouts.

“I can see that.” Chuckling, you feel him sew his hand around your own, feeling your warmth against his palm makes all the fatigue in his groaning bones ebb away. “What else have you two been up to other than feeding the strays of Mermaid's head?” You throw your other arm around Pavitr's shoulder, wiggling him playfully.

“Someone on the crew found us a spy.” Hobie said those words too cheerfully for you to take it seriously.

“What?” You scrunch your nose at him, earning a quick peck over the bridge of your nose from him.

“I think I should get back on the ship—!” Pav starts but is quickly pushed back down by Hobie's tug. “Don't, Hobie.” He warns with a narrowed glare.

“I haven't even said anythin’!”

“You were about to say it!”

“What are you two talking about?” Giggling at their back and forth, they whip their heads at you quickly.

“Nothing!”

“It’s ‘bout one of Thorpe's daughters!”

Their voices try to rise above the other, but Hobie wins as you look at Pav with a knowing and tamped down grin. Pavitr gasps out in offense while Hobie snickers beside you.

“Which one, Gayatri?” His brown eyes widen and you smile. “She's a spy then? Oh, Pav, that's dangerous.” You add to the teasing as you lean against Hobie while the both of you playfully look at the younger pirate.

“I just saw her up on the roof!”

“And you chatted her up, innit?” Hobie wiggles his pierced brows.

“I told her to quit it or else I'll…” Pavitr fumbles.

“Or else what, Pav?” Hobie taps his leg with his foot, and Pav clamps his mouth shut in embarrassment. “Tell our doc ‘ere what she told you that had you runnin’ back to the ship?”

“She said nothing!” There's a slight red tint on his cheeks as he brushes your arm away from his shoulder.

“She said, and I quote, ‘I’d like to see you try, helmsman.’” Hobie answers for him and Pavitr sweats under the captain and your accumulated gaze.

“Oho, sounds like she's either trying to push you over the edge or was flirting with you.”

“Kinda like us before, lovie.” Hobie pulls you closer against his chest, and you wink back at him.

“I'm leaving!” Pavitr stands up, sweaty palms and all as he wipes them on his trousers. “I have…shit to do!” Stomping away, he huffs and puffs back towards the docks. The pack of dogs follow right behind him, probably smelling the rest of their meal inside his bag.

“Pavitr, wait! We're sorry!” You get back up to your feet, and Hobie follows, grasping your hand and twirling you around until you're chest to chest with him. “Did we tease him too much?” Palms splayed over his tunic, Hobie nuzzles the tip of your nose.

“Nah, he's fine, he'll forgive you later when you give him your present.” His tone turns saccharine, arm wrapped around your waist as you back him up against the wall of the alleyway.

Leaning away, he chases your lips, huffing when you don't kiss him. “How'd you know I haven't given him his present yet?”

“Looks like you've got your own spy, scuttlebutt.” His grey eyes shine as you see your reflection in those eyes you revere.

“Oh I already know that.” Cupping his chin, you smirk as he kisses the side of your palm. “I've got something for you too actually.”

His brows raise at that, eyes immediately smiling. “Is it what I think it is?”

You clench your teeth as you rummage through your full bag. “Not that one yet, but I think I've got something that's just as good.” Procuring the necklace, you let go of the chain as it dangles from your fist. He eyes it briefly, then his brilliant grey eyes meets yours. “It's for the pearl. I figured that the strings kept breaking apart, I needed to find something that's a bit more permanent to hold it. Do you like it?”

Chuckling, he gingerly cups the pendant. “Love…”

“I know it needs some elbow grease for it to shine again, but it's the perfect fit for the pearl! I think.” Biting your lip, you worry that it's too much, that you're too much.”

“Is this what you've been up to after you went to the doctor's?” He whispers with a lilt tone, hiding his excitement as he unwraps the pearl from the laced together strings around his neck.

“Yeah, I know it's not a good time to spend my time but— it caught my eye. Gwen's alright by the way…” You watch him place the pearl inside the locket with bated breath. “And I got the apprenticeship. The doctor was nice at least.” As he closes the cage like locket around the pearl, it clicks into place, properly securing the precious thing. “Holy shit, it fits.”

Hobie match your wonderment. “Like us, innit?” His eyes turn into liquid silver, unshed tears locked inside those swirling pools of warm metal. “Put it around me jus’ like how couples do it?”

Laughing lightly, you take the necklace from his gentle hold, and place it around his neck, feeling the scars underneath your touch as you brush alongside his skin softly. As you lock the clasp in place, you admire it on him whilst a tear silently rolls down your cheek.

“Now we match.”

“Aye,” he whispers fondly, calloused fingers grazing along the dainty chain before wiping away the fallen tear. “We match, thank you, love.”

“Anything for you.”

“You're right,” Hobie kisses you softly, like a petal brushing along your lips. “It's jus’ as good as the one that I thought.”

Savouring his warmth, you hold him close. For a beat, it's just you and him in the whole island just like before. The sound of the waves are farther from your ears, but as you close your eyes, you feel the cool water lapping at your feet and the sand in between your toes while the sun beams down at the two of you. And with Hobie's touch, your doubts crumble back into the back of your mind.

In that alleyway, Hobie never thought that he'd gain another precious thing, something to hold, something to call his own. No amount of jewellery he has could compare to this, maybe the one you've promised could rival it, but for now, this is his most invaluable and priceless treasure. Besides you, who rests in his arms.

“How about you, captain, have you done any mischief today, hm?” Brushing your lips atop his, he breathlessly exhales as he willingly lets himself be trapped under you and in between the hard wall.

“Jus’ missin’ you.” Arm pushing you impossibly closer, chest to chest and without a doubt there's any space left in between you two, Hobie completely shows his softer side to you and sheds his tough captain persona.

“Oh, what hard work.” You taunt, flirting and all the while pushing his buttons with every kiss.

“I was also findin’ our crew…” He sighs, lips puckering to meet with your gentle pecks. Fists balling around your shirt, as he melts in your arms.

“Yeah? Did you,” you kiss the corner of his lips, “find,” then his cheek, and towards the bridge of his nose. “any good ones?” Moving his chin upwards, you trace the side of his face and over to his jaw as you pepper him with dozens of warm affectionate kisses. When he doesn't respond, you laugh against his adam's apple, nipping at the skin gently. “Hobie, my captain, I'm asking you a question.”

“You did?” He croaks out, eyes foggy as if he has fallen for the siren's song.

“Aye, I did.” Whispering atop his skin, you blow air right into the crook of his neck, and you feel goosebumps rise under your palms. “Did you find a reliable crew for us?”

“Mm-hmm.” He hums, softly smiling when you reach to kiss his lips as you feel the vibrations from his chest. Turning the tides and getting a second wind, he flips you over and traps you against the wall and his hard chest. Leg placed in between yours, warm palms splayed over the curve of your hips. Smirking, you fell right for his dastardly act, and you absolutely let him. “They're… waitin’ in the docks.” Breath fanning across your lips, his eyes alone could devour you right there and then.

“Who—”

“The bloody duchess?” Someone coughs and interrupts.

“Fuckin' hell!” Hobie twists around, hiding you from the stranger. Or more like hiding himself as he turns his back against the confused and embarrassed blue clad man. “What're you on, mate?!”

“I'm sorry! I just got here!” He avoids Hobie's eyes as his pale cheeks turn red. “I've got letters for the duchess of Hazelside!”

You thump your forehead atop Hobie's clavicle before stepping aside and briskly walking to grab the bundled letters. “I'm her, who's it from?” You try to act nonchalant but in truth you're absolutely embarrassed just like the flustered captain behind you. “Do I have to sign anything?”

“I— no—” the poor man sweats and avoids looking directly at you.

Deciding to ease his misery, you grab a coin from your pocket and hand it to him in exchange for the letters. “Get yourself something cold to drink.”

Without another word, he scampers away, head downturned.

“Fuck.” Hobie looks over his shoulder, and the second you meet with eyes, the two of you let out a loud guffaw that rings out of the alleyway.

“Shit, I'm just glad it's not the crew who saw that.”

Hobie groans and grimaces, back still turned away from you as he leans against the wall. “Don't make me imagine that.”

Walking back to him, he reaches for you to park yourself in the crook of his arm. “That would've been fucking horrible.” Chuckling, you rest your head on his shoulder, eyes briefly glancing downwards. “Do you need a minute or…”

“Fuck you!” His voice peaks and squeaks, making you laugh some more. Smacking your behind, he inhales deeply and stretches his other arm. “Who's it from?”

You rifle through the letters, seeing the same two names on a dozen or so envelopes. “Miguel O’Hara and Jessica Drew.” Eyes widening, you blink at the papers like you're hallucinating. “How in the world? I didn't even know that the island could receive and send post.”

“This place has everythin’, love. ‘cept for proper plumbing that is.” Fixing your shirt, he pats your cheek. “You alright? Do you want to read it alone?”

Shaking your head, you run your thumb across the ink. “I'm fine, I just didn't expect for them to… remember me after, I guess.”

Cupping your cheek, he kisses your forehead gently. “You aren't forgettable, love, trust me.”

You smile fondly. “Thank you, Hobie. You're not forgettable either.”

“No matter how hard you try, hm?” He teases, poking your temple.

“It's impossible to forget you,” rolling your eyes, you mirror his expression. “You've got your little crabby claws on me.”

“Hm, clinging onto you tightly, huh?” Leaning towards your lips, you reluctantly push away.

“Can't risk that again, Hobie. I saw three of your crew out here and I will throw myself overboard if they see us tangled together.”

Chuckling and unwrapping himself away from you, his warm eyes promise a continuation for later. “Right, can't have ‘em seein’ mum and dad snoggin’.”

Nodding, you tuck the letters inside your bag for now, something that Hobie takes note of. “I'll read them later when I have the time.”

“You can read them now if you want, I'll give you time.” His brows subtly knit together.

Inhaling, you shake your head. “I can wait for a bit.”

“You sure? I'll get you a quiet spot in Riri's tavern.”

Taking his hand, you begin to pull him away from the wall. “I'm sure, Hobie. Just like you said, you've got the new recruits waiting for you.”

“I said that?” Blinking, he lets you lead him out of the alleyway.

“Do you need a quiet spot?” You nudge him teasingly while he's obviously still reeling from your kisses.

“If you're comin’ with.” And he nudges back with a lopsided smile.

#hypefix wip reblog

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hyperfix-wip · 14 days ago

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Bro, THIS song??? 😭😭😭 got me crying in the club tonight with this one 😭

@hyperfix-wip i said give me 3-5 business days

#hypefix wip reblog

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hyperfix-wip · 15 days ago

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Also, captain, in public? 🌝

Ship to Wreck

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 15.9k

Synopsis: The ship preparations begins for a long journey ahead.

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, reader has nicknames, pirate AU, a sequel to BDAS, CW food mentions, TW panic attack, one suggestive scene, CW violence mention, inaccurate medical treatment, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff!

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