#Landlubber jeans

[groovyysav]

So I bought these vintage landlubber jeans because they reminded me SO MUCH of Robert’s. I cannot believe Robert was able to fit a cock and balls into these things, they are SO TIGHT lol

#robert plant #led zeppelin #1970s #70s fashion #we both have tiny asses apparently #landlubber jeans

[emeraldexplorer2]

1977

#vintage ads #vintage advertising #vintage advertisement #landlubber #jeans #sportswear

[aiiaiiiyo]

#Landlubber jeans ad 1971 #Kbdiggity #oldschool

[ltwilliammowett]

Sailors of a galleon

A crew did not only consist of the countrymen of the respective nation, but was a mixed troop. There were different languages, eating habits, nationalities and religions. And yet people found each other and were able to cope with or even learn the different tasks on board.

The Sailors were divided into three groups, the Sailor, the Apprentice and the Ship's Boy. The Common Sailor was an experienced Sailor and was called Seaman in England and Marinero in Spain. The category able did not yet exist here, this only came about during the Napoleonic era. These men already had some years of experience and were able to control the sails by ropes, if necessary shortening them by removing the bonnets. Reef points were not used until footropes appeared. They could steer the ship with the whipstaff, read the compass and plot the course on a chart, and operated the guns if necessary, the job was otherwise taken over by the gunners.  

English sailors aboard a galleon, in: Spanish vs. English Galleon, by Mark Lardas

The apprentice, called grumetes in Spain, were young men between 16-19 years old who were still learning the craft of a seamen. The concept of the landlubber did not yet exist here; anyone, no matter how little experience at sea, was considered an apprentice. Their main tasks were handling the sails, manning the capstan or windlass. Raising or lowering the anchor and pulling the ropes of the guns. They were subordinate to the Seamen and learned the craft from them until they were declared Seamen after three years at sea. The last group were the ship's boys aged 8-14 (in England they were called pages, in Spain pajes). They served the officers, cleaned the cabins, mopped the decks and set the mess tables. They sang hymns to entertain the crew and did the watch with them, as they were in charge of the hourglass. When they were old enough, their future path was decided. If they came from a noble household, they became officers; if they did not, they became apprentices and later seamen.

Two galleons on the Normandie Map, by Jean Jolivet 1553 (x)

A crew usually consisted of 90% of a good mix of seamen and apprentices. the ship's boys took over the remaining 10%. Of course, there were also special posts and duties that went with them. And so, as later, there was also the bosun. But here he was responsible for the sails, the placement of the crew, the cargo, the distribution of clothing and the paperwork on board. Later, these tasks were distributed among several posts, such as the Master (the Master already existed, only he had other tasks), the Clerk, the Purser and so on. There was also the carpenter and the caulker. The steward (despensero in Spanish) was responsible for the catering. He supervised the rations, the cooking, the food on board and kept an eye on the wine and the water. Later it was divided between the cook and the purser. The barber-surgeon was responsible for health. But not only for health, but also for personal hygiene. This meant that hair and limbs were cut in equal measure. The only problem was that these men were not particularly trained surgeons and learned their trade through experience at sea.

The crew of a galleon, Illustration by William Rainey (1852-1936) for The Golden Galleon (1987) by Robert Leighton (1858–1934) (x)

Unlike the soldiers, however, the sailors only signed on for one trip and were released afterwards. So they had to reapply each time and hope to be accepted.

A small warship had a crew of 30-60 men. Even the big ones had a rather small crew, so a crew of 500 only made up 177 of the Sailors, the rest were Gunners and Soldiers.

#naval history #sailors of a galleon #16th century #beginning of the age of sail

[fawnvelveteen]

1970. Four high school girls wearing Landlubber jeans, an ultra-popular brand in the '70s.

#Landlubber jeans #jeans #1970 #1970s #1970s fashion #street style #high school #car

[miss-violet]

Jimmy Page: Packing Heat or just BDE?

This is a companion piece to my previous post, Robert Plant: Packing Heat or just BDE? Jimmy also favors tight trousers, but he is pleasantly proportioned but not massive like Robert. And he's typically photographed wearing his low-slung guitar, so the DBA pics are a little harder (ahem) to winnow out. Let's have a closer look at Jimmy's rig, in the interest of balanced cockological research.

This is the grand-daddy of all JP DBA pics, perhaps because Jimmy looks to be sporting wood while copping a salacious peek at Robert’s package. Zooming in, it’s really just a crease in his pants, so no DBA here, but the leer is real and the lads look fine. 

Perhaps the only authentic semi-woody in this modest set, if you zoom in close there’s a definite roll-of-quarters effect

Looking ice-cool in aviators and white satin, this photo illustrates his pleasing proportions and that he dresses to the left, so I’d call it a bona-fide DBA though no apparent wood. 

Probably just a crease in his pants, but it’s too low-res to zoom in. It looks exactly like a boner so I’m including it anyway. 

 Either some serious cockfade or a weird stain on his jeans, IDK. Maybe those are Robert’s Landlubber jeans?

Are they are wearing the same jeans, both dressing to the left, and maybe Jimmy has a semi? Or more likely it’s my perverted imagination spurred by the suggestive cockfade. 

Not sure what is going on here; maybe someone knows the context of this photo? Youthful mutton-chopped Jimmy looks generously endowed. 

At the end, after the roadie abruptly grabs the guitar, you can see a little glimpse of the DBA of the Page package and it looks quite generous, based on my 1,000+ viewings of this GIF. 

#dba #cockology #oh jimmy #jimmeh #jimbert #bde

[chromatic-lamina]

heart crew tatts–uni, clione

Okay, I’m up early so I’m gonna work, but am also seeing the very warranted love for Heart Pirate tattoos out there, so gonna post this excerpt from one of my fics. It might be a bit difficult to understand out of context, cos it’s post-canon and divergent, but I have the popular fanon (for fanfic’s sake) of a lot Law’s crew being ex-slaves (works for fanfic), and in this scene there’s a gathering of Aladine (ex-sun pirates and ex-slave), and Koala (ex-sun pirates, ex-slave) on Law’s submarine for revolutionary shenanigans, but it’s really about the tatts. 

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Aladine wasn't sure what was going on. Law's crew was respectful and quickly dropped heads in a bow, or squeezed his shoulder, as they passed. Or Jean Bart squeezed his shoulder. Even Bepo was a third the merman's size.

"What's that all about?"

Koala shot him a look. He didn't know? She stood up from where they sat in the mess, and inclined her head toward the door. Aladine rose. He towered over her. She hadn't grown much across the years, but she was healthy and strong.

They exited from the loading bay. No way Aladine could get down that hatch. On the top deck the crew scrubbed, mopped, mended and sweated as if the Polar Tang usually sailed on top of the water. Okay, some were just exhibitionists.

There were few crews as heavily tatted as Law's. The Sun Pirates had ink of course, but the Hearts were inked all over, then wore boiler suits hiding it away. Shachi was skilled with design and many wanted to copy their captain. For others it was the practice of their homeland, and the rest just liked tattoos.

(Clione is not a nudibranch, but wished he was. Source after the cut).

"You think I need to work out?" Aladine asked.

She laughed. Most likely. "Look closer."

"Sabo doesn't mind you ogling?"

She punched him. She knew fishman karate. Despite their size and strength difference, Aladine felt it through his brotula tail. He might not be covered in scales, but it was still as tough and flexible as Teflon. 

"Look closer."

"Hey, Koala." A crew member walked past and the tip-of-the-finger salute to Aladine was almost a forelock tug. Merfolk had excellent eyesight, otherwise he would've missed it. Resting, Aladine's tail curled a few times, and his height dropped a metre or so.

"The Celestials would say a lot of capital was gathered here. Stolen property," Koala said, rubbing at her back where the Sun brand still warmed her skin.

"Fisher Tiger freed them?"

"Nah. The mark'd be different, but the idea's the same." Ah. Well, not everyone joined the Sun pirates, and not everyone who did was an ex-slave. And not all had been held by the Celestial Dragons, though Jean Bart's design was familiar. He focused more deeply.

"Like what you see?" Uni sauntered past, his t-shirt removed and tucked into the back of the boiler suit. The boiler suit was zipped open to his hips and loose from his shoulders. He carried a sack of flour (to keep out of Captain's sight) over one shoulder, and one of rice over the other. Sea urchins, inked in at the centre, spines interlocking and projecting outwards in monochrome mandalas, covered his right lower back.

Clione hit him with a clipboard. "What're you saying that for?"

Cheap to hit him when he couldn't strike back, Uni thought. He rolled his eyes and they kept on their path. How'd Clione get the auditor's job? "It's what they say in those stories when someone likes your body." He threw a cheeky look back across his shoulder. "When you're hot, y'know? And you know it."

Clione elbowed him. "Got your sights set on Aladine-sensei now?" It wasn't like Uni had much to show off anyway, despite what he thought.

"Seems he's got his sights set on me." He didn't work out for nothing.

The fishman doctor finally noticed as the two tried to squeeze into the door at the same time. To a landlubber, Clione's designs, swimming around his upper arms, and circling the left of his lower back, might appear to be summer dragonflies buzzing from one puff of air to the next.

But Aladine recognised them as nudibranchs lifting and settling in the ocean's currents, and more specifically, the poisonous blue dragon which had very little to do with the sea angel sea slug from which Clione drew his name. Both scared off predators with poison they drew from others though. They were clever creatures.

His designs were monochrome too, the ink darker as the dragons swirled the centre of the mark on his lower back. Uni dropped the supplies against the wall of the elevated room of the loading bay, and both men pulled on their t-shirts for the cooler temps of the sub. Cooler at that time. It got damn hot in that tin can when it was under water.

Ah. Aladine understood. Though it didn't seem Law had any fishmen on his crew, anyone who came to the new world obviously had experience with them. Law's hadn't been so pleasant he guessed. A shadow of annoyance — and was it hate? — crossed his features when he'd asked Law of the merfolk or fishmen he knew.

Not all humans were good either. He got that. Knew Law was rational enough to not let experience become a personal dictate. He had saved Jinbei.

That’s from a pretty dark fic, so I won’t link, but I hope you enjoy. My AO3 is in the header of this blog.

Pic: From: Sylke Rohrlach from Sydney, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #heart pirates #trafalgar law #koala #uni #clione #aladine #polar tang #opfanfic #op fanfic #heart pirate tatts #my stuff #my writing #chromalami #not showing up in tags #why? #national geographic hearts

[nickysaysyolo]

H I P S T E R G I R L 🌈 Moon dust in your lungs, starts in your eyes, Child of the cosmos, a ruler of the skies 🌌 ☯️🧡 . . . . Always felt like I belonged in the 70s so only made sense teaming up with @landlubberjeans | hippie chick, Fro, tie-dye.... groovy🤟🏾 . . . . Landlubber Jeans comes with free customization! Slogan, initials, name + 3 select 1 emoji embroidery —- sign for for the newsletter & get 20% off your 1st order 🤘🏾 . . . . . . #landlubberjeans #retrostyle #vintageoutfit #70sfashion #jeans👖 #bellbottomsjeans #woodstock50 #hippie #hippiestyle #hippiegirls #hippie #hippychick #kinkyhair #type4hair #afrochick #miamiblogger #ftlbloggers #southfloridablogger #ftlauderdalebeach (at Hollywood, Florida) https://www.instagram.com/p/B1e51m1hOra/?igshid=1hrhdccb06mkz

#landlubberjeans #retrostyle #vintageoutfit #70sfashion #jeans👖 #bellbottomsjeans #woodstock50 #hippie #hippiestyle #hippiegirls #hippychick #kinkyhair #type4hair #afrochick #miamiblogger #ftlbloggers #southfloridablogger #ftlauderdalebeach

[straengerthngs]

Marked Territory// Billy Hargrove

The clock rapidly winds down. 2 second left and Billy has the ball. The ball flies through the air and effortlessly falls through the net. The buzzer sounds and the entire bleacher I’m standing on roars. Happy cheers and screams echo within the gym. I scream landlubbers for the team but mainly for Billy. He catches my gaze and smirks. Biting his lip and winking he suddenly is swept away by the crowd. Only this crowd is a bunch of girls. I don’t think much of it. It’s not new. Billy has always been the best looking guy in Hawkins since he got here. My friend grabs my arm in excitement. “We won! Holy shit!” She says. I laugh at her reaction. She’s practically jumping up and down. Knowing her that’s her best idea because we will both fall if it continues. Luckily she stops once she loses the tiniest bit of balance. “Oh shit!” She says and she holds onto me. I look back over Billy to see a group of girls surrounding him. He’s smirking and subtlety flexing. He stares at the girl in front of him and licks his lip. “Oh hell no.” I state as I grit my teeth. “What?” My friend questions. I simply point over to Billy and she immediately understands. She knows how jealous I can get. What’s mine is mine. No other girls should even think about my man like that. I grab her wrist and hurriedly march down the bleachers and over to Billy. I glare at the girls as I head over to the group with my friend in tow. I let her go and she stops and waits for me to come back. I push through the group and reach Billy. “Hey Billy, great job.” I hiss. He knows something is wrong because I almost never call him Billy unless I just can’t help myself 😉. He stops smiling and grabs my hand, attempting to calm and reassure me. I squeeze his hand really hard. He flinches and leads me back to my friend. The girls sigh and huff in frustration. “Billy I’ll be in the car.” I state as I let go of his hand. He nods and goes to change. We walk out to his car and my friend waved goodbye. “See ya Monday! Don’t be too hard him, or do!” She says and winks. I roll my eyes and get in the passenger side. A few minutes later Billy comes out with wet hair and his jeans that hug his ass real nice on. He opens the door, throws the bag in the back, and sits in the drivers seat. “Look baby-“ He starts. “Drive. We aren’t doing this with people around.” I say. He starts up the car and pulls out of the parking spot. “Okay baby.” He says and leaves the school parking lot. “Why the fuck were you flirting with those girls?” I ask and jump slightly with anger in my seat. “I wasn’t! You know that you are my girl! I was just entertaining them.” He says.“Entertaining them?!?” I say flabbergasted and throw my hands in the air. “Are you kidding me?” “No baby!” “Stop ‘baby’ing me! I’m mad!” I say. He nods and tries his best to contain his own anger. Not because he is angry at me but because he knows is hurt you. He is angry at himself. He stops talking because he doesn’t want to snap. Arriving at my house I get out and slam the door. I walk to my door but wait just a little bit. Hoping he’ll get out and come after me. “For fucks sake Billy.” I say quietly. Shaking my head, this boy has no idea how girls work. I go inside and head up to my room.

~•~•~

The next night I hear a knock on my door. My parents aren’t home. They are both on different business trips. I check through the window to see that it’s not a killer. Billy stands there in all his glory. I can’t help but smile a little. He is just so perfect. I go to the door and open it a tiny bit. “Hi...” I say. “Hi Babe can I come in? I’m really sorry.” I nod and shrug then open up the door fully. He slides in past me but gets as close as can even though there is enough room. I let out a heavy breathe and lead him to the couch. He holds up a bag. “What is it?” “Just your favorite foods.” I smile and take the bag. “You really know how to get me to forgive you.” I say smiling. He laughs. “Ya I guess so.” “Well I wasn’t even that mad.... I was mainly just really jealous.” He nods biting his lip. “Oh baby girl I know.” I laugh and hug him. He hugs back. His hands slowly run down my back down to my ass. I smile and kiss him. My hands weave themselves in his hair and gently pull. He lets out a guilt moan and grabs my ass. He lays me down on the couch. I let go of his hair and bring my hands to his chest. He puts his hands next to my head and holds himself up. He pulls his shirt off. I smile widely. This is exactly what I wanted. I kiss down his neck to his chest. He moans. I start leaving marks. He smirks and moans. “Marking your territory baby.” I hum in response.

~•~•~

Monday roles around and when arriving at school. As I wake through the halls people glance my way. They most has seen my art work. 😉 At least they know he’s mine.

#billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 3

[groovyysav]

I bought vintage landlubber jeans pretty identical to these just because of Robert and I’ve been loving them!!

#led zeppelin #robert plant #1970s #tempted to give yall a tour of my vintage jean collection (4 pairs lol)

[rosekard]

It had been five long years since the pizzeria had been abandoned. The animations and the five souls left alone and untouched. But what if there was a way for all ten of them to be free?

Tumbr version under the cut

A brown bear sat at the edge of a stage, a microphone in his hand. An animatronic, yes, but soft enough for children to hug. His eyes were shut tightly, and a small, sad smile graced his face. He remembered the animatronic’s memories from before he had been killed. They were allowed to free roam, talk to the kids. The kids would sit on their laps and they would tell them all sorts of stories. Back when Foxy and Pirates Cove hadn’t been ‘out of order’ as they called it. Back before the bite. Before, well, before he had been killed.

The bear opened his eyes as he heard the sounds of gears walking towards him. Out of the corners of his eyes he saw yellow, purple, and red sitting down beside him. “Hey guys.” He said, just loud enough to be heard by the three surrounding him. The faded yellow chicken spoke up first. “Hi Freddy. Hello Gabriel.” For just a moment, freddy’s eyes grew white as a little white creature with black eyes flew out of him. “Good evening Miss. Chica, Susie. Same to the rest of you.” The other three animatronics took a deep breath before doing the same.

Quickly, three other white beings joined the first. The first held a microphone, the second had long hair, a ribbon holding it back. The third had bunny ears, and the fourth had an eyepatch. The four beings, most likely souls, sat next to each of their animatronics silently. “So, Chica. Anything interesting in the kitchen?” The purple bunny asked. “Nothing new Bonnie. I mean, they abandoned this place, what, five years ago.” “Aye mate” The Fox spoke up “I ain't seen any of ‘em landlubbers in years.” His voice was distant. Sad.

“I know Foxy, but we will get out of here someday. It may be a while but I’m sure we can figure it out.” A growl was heard “Oh come on Freddy, it's been five years! Were gonna get outta here? When? Another five years?” Chica backed up just a little. “Bonnie? Please relax, yelling won't help.” tears brimmed in the rabbits eyes “Then what will, chica? We killed guards. Nothing has worked. We can’t just walk outside and be all like ‘Hey everyone! Don’t worry about the fact that were living animatronics, and we have the souls of children whose corpses were stuffed into our exoskeletons. No big deal!’”

Freddy snapped his head to look at the rabbit “Bonnie, you are a genius! We need to find Goldie and Cassidy!” “Freddy, mate, what is that gonna do? The lads have been missin for a while” Foxy questioned. “When was the last time you went into storage? The two are hiding away in there. Lets go!”

The limp Golden bear looked at the little white girl with a top hat and bow tie. “Cassidy, do you think that they will come back for us once they find a way out? I mean, they never really visit us.” She sighed “I mean, Freddy and Gabriel came by and visited about a year or so ago. You’re right, it's probably bad that I have to think that far back.” “Yes I do believe it is.” Just as the two finished talking the door opened. Four animatronics and four spirits stood at the door.

“Goldie, brother, I figured it out!” The white pupils darted from the girl to the bear “You figured it out? This means that I’m going to have to go something absolutely insane.” Freddy shook his head. “Not necessarily. I need you to get us hair samples of ten different people. Five adults, and five children. We can all leave and start a new life as a big happy family!” Goldie sighed as he used his magic to lift himself into a standing position. “It may take me a few trips but I can get it for you. Cassie would you come with me? I don’t want to be left stranded if my magic gives out.” The soul nodded and followed the bear through the walls of the building to the outside world.

“What? How in the Atlantic ocean can he leave the building? Aye, I mean. The lad and lass can leave but we be trapped here!” Freddy shook his head “Goldie is using his magic again. I’m glad to see him use it again.”

*Timeskip because I have no clue what to write*

Over the next few days Goldie and Cassidy had collected the hair samples. The animatronics began working to create body out of the dna. Using Goldie’s magic they were able to make the bodies unique to them. Eventually the bodies had been created. Foxy was the first to go. He took a moment to balance himself before he stood up, with the help of bonnie and chica of course. He had messy red hair, an anchor T-shirt a black jacket and ripped jeans. They then sent Fritz, the child who was with foxy into his body. The boy looked like Foxy’s son. Without a second thought he pulled Foxy into a hug. Initially it startled the fox, before he slowly wrapped his arms around the boy. “It works. I feel the heat coming from him. It works!”

The group became excited as they slowly went through everyone. Freddy and Goldie wore matching suits, the colors being gold and brown respectively. Chica had a yellow shirt with chicks printed on and Bonnie a Purple shirt with a red guitar print. The Children looked like miniature versions of their respective animatronics. Bonnie walked over to the old counter and slowly opened the old cash register. Inside was a one hundred dollar bill. Chica walked into the security office and found three twenties.

They decided that the small amount of money would be able to feed the ten of them as long as they were careful. The next morning the group left through the back door. After a few hours of walking they reached the next nearest town. Goldie used his magic to get all of them identification and birth certificates. After that the animatronics got jobs and the children began going to school.

The group of them began living a normal life, as any people should do. Eventually the group started to get themselves into romantic relationships. Bonnie and Chica fell in love and later married. Foxy and Freddy the same. Goldie was perfectly content staying single. The group still lived in the same house together, not worrying about the marriages.

One day all ten of them went to the park. It had been five years since they had left the pizzaria. “Do you remember when we were still animatronics?” Foxy laughed at the comment “Do I remember mate? Of course I do. Aye ye were all mopey an’ all but we made it. Goldie laughed “How could I forget. I mean, Being a limp piece of fabric is sorta hard to forget. At least now we aren’t.”

“Ya know guys?” Chica spoke up “I think that after all of that we can face any challenges that come our way.” Bonnie nodded as the children came running up to them. It was getting late anyways. So they packed up and drove back home, home is where the heart is.

#fnaf #fanfiction

[force5mcc]

Lunch at the Mayflower with landlubber friends Jean and Barry.🥶

8.5.21

Posted by Sherry

Revolution

[my-davidoo7]

I just added this listing on Poshmark: Landlubber Women’s Jeans Vintage 70s 9.

[womenpantstoza]

^^@^^ New Vintage Woman's Junior's Landlubber Jeans Pleated Front Khaki Pants Size 5 https://ift.tt/3dBgRmz

#Pants #womenpants

[accio-ambition]

Who’s in the mood to meet some fishermen? Anybody get seasick? I’d suggest getting off this ship now. It’s only going to get more intense from here.

As always, a million and seven thank yous to @sotheylived for betaing this story, @shipsxahoy for the lovely cover art, and @queen-icicle-fandom for the hand-drawn art. (Go give them some love. Follow them, they’re great people, scouts’ honor.)

Summary: Bouncing around with her son for the majority of her life, Emma Swan has told herself she’s happy in the city. It’s where the most camera operating jobs are, and that’s how she makes her money. But when an old friend calls her and asks for her help on a new project in small town Maine, Emma finds herself in a place she’s never been with people she doesn’t know filming a profession she knows nothing about. But when the captain of the ship she’s filming begins taking a keen interest in her and her life, she finds herself wondering whether she might just catch something other than fish. Deadliest Catch AU Rating: M Content warning: Character death, some violent situations

FFnet/AO3/Cover art/Snapshot art

Chapter Five

It’s early in the morning, and far too chilly to be late June. Her research did say that the weather would be cooler, but this? It’s like 60 degrees, if that. Last week saw record-breaking heat and now it’s freezing at the end of June. Stepping through the dewy grass gets her toes wet in her sandals and soaks the bottom of her jeans, making her even colder than she should be.

Right now, Maine is not at all the smartest move she’s made.

Jefferson, being the one to orchestrate this show – this entire ordeal really – leads them toward the water. He chatters away in the manner of nonsense, like he tends to do. Even when she first knew him, Emma thought he was mad as a hatter, or at least sometimes as creative as one.

At their dinner on Friday evening, in which she and David signed contracts that promised them exorbitant amounts of money, and while Grace and Henry chased each other around yard, Jeff explained to Emma and David that he’d managed to set up a bit of time with the crews of the trawling business so they could all get to know each other. The more Jefferson talks about it, the more Emma feels like she’s being prepped for the first day at a new school. She’s walking into this group of people who have known and worked together for who knows how long and here she is, the new girl in a man’s world.

Needless to say, her stomach gurgles with nerves.

Jefferson’s leading them toward a huge group of people all hanging about by the edge of the water. Even from afar, she can tell the group consists of men. Baggy jeans, flannels, combat boots. If they weren’t by the water, Emma would think she’s intruded on a lumberjack convention.

Leaning toward David, Emma asks, “What is with all the flannels? Do they know it’s June?”

David looks over at her with a smirk. “Says the girl wearing a sweatshirt.”

Emma shrugs. “What? It’s windy,” she retorts. David sends her a side-eye of knowing deflection that makes her blush. Arms crossed over her chest to keep warm, she can’t help the slight blush that washes her cheeks.

“It’s alright, Em,” he says, knocking into her side gently. “I know how guys somehow fluster you.”

She scoffs. “Please. Nothing flusters me.”

Jefferson comes to a stop at the backs of the crowd, and Emma and David halt behind him. He claps his hands to get the attention of the group. This is where Emma corrects herself: the flannel-clad group is made of mostly men, with one woman.

Girl power, she thinks. Way to represent.

“Alright, crew,” Jefferson says loud and clear, in his usual dramatic flair. “These are the two folks who are going to be operating the cameras on your ships.” He gestures toward her and David with open palms. She scowls while David, on the other hand, gives a small wave. “At some point in the near future, I’d really appreciate if you took these two landlubbers on board and taught them the ropes a little bit.”

There’s an uncommitted hum of agreement and understanding from the sailors. Jefferson spins around, his coattails flying behind him, to address her and David. “You camera folks, I want you to look for some places you’d think make for good mounted cameras. Think the corners of roofs, break rooms, whatever.”

“Of course,” Emma says simultaneously with David’s much more casual “Yeah, no problem.”

Jeff sends them a slightly crazed smile and a thumbs up before turning back to the crews. “Okay, why don’t you kids split off into your crews,” he says. Over his shoulder, he continues, “Mr. Nolan, you’ll be with the Jewel of the Realm. It’s the bigger of the two boats and your captain runs the family business. Em, you’re with the Jolly Roger.”

She can’t help but roll her eyes. “Really? Like the pirate ship?” It would figure: Henry mentions piracy, calls their move Operation Pirate. This is really too much.

With a shrug, Jefferson says, “I ask not where inspiration comes from or when it hits.” And with a flick of his hands, he starts walking back toward town. It seems that she’s been dismissed.

While David is already laughing it up with the larger of the two breakout groups, Emma strolls up to the smaller group. There’s four men: two with scruff, one with strikingly blond hair, and one whose attitude rolls off him in waves. She’s not intimidated by them, but she’s jealous of David. At least if she was assigned to the larger boat, the woman would be there, just so she’d have someone to talk to. Maybe. At least she would have a better chance of understanding where Emma was coming from.

But no, she’s got to babysit four grown men who probably act like teenagers. Especially that moody one. God, if Henry is a fraction as angsty as that guy come his teen years, she’ll have to ground him until he goes off to college.

She takes a deep breath to steady herself and then settles in to her tendency to be bossy. These guys will listen to her, respect her, if it’s the last thing she does.

“Okay, boys, I’m Emma Swan,” she starts, her voice strong, unquestioning, perhaps (hopefully) even threatening. “I have no qualms beating you into shape, but this is supposed to be a reality show, so I can’t do it that often. Don’t make me.”

The four of them chuckle. “A woman who’s not afraid to throw a man around,” the blond one says. “I like a woman in charge.”

Emma shakes her head and her hand flies up in the universal symbol for stop. “Gross. No, not happening,” she says with finality. Looking each one of them in the eye, she adds, “That goes for all of you. This –” she gestures to herself, “and that –” she gestures to each of them, “will not happen. We are coworkers at best, and that’s it. Understand?”

She’s happy to see a touch of fear in the blond one’s eyes, but he ultimately nods. One of the scruffed men steps forward and offers her his hand. “Won’t be a problem, Ms. Swan. The name’s Robin, Robin Locksley.”

“Nice to meet you, Robin.” She takes his hand and shakes it firmly. Internally, she breathes a sigh of relief. At least one of these guys seems to have a good head on his shoulders. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise.” Robin grins, then points to the blond and the moody one. “This here is Victor Whale and this bastard’s Will Scarlet.”

Whale nods respectfully while Scarlet offers her his hand as well. “Lovely to meet ya, luv,” he greets her.

With a grimace, Emma takes Scarlet’s hand, then looks to the only one who she’s yet to be introduced to: the second scruffed man. He’s sort of hanging back behind his crewmates, dark hair swept over his eyes and a brooding look about him.

Great, this one’s got an attitude to, she thinks. Can’t wait to deal with that in the middle of the ocean.

“And you are?” she asks leadingly, bordering on patronizingly.

The man swaggers forward. “Killian Jones,” he says in a low accented voice. “Captain of the Jolly Roger.”

His eyebrow cocks up at the statement, as if he’s waiting for her to faint or gasp or be impressed. He seems full of himself, so naturally Emma decides to take him down a notch.

“Alright, captain. There’s no need for an attitude.”

“No, luv, you don’t understand.” Scarlet steps forward to explain, a hand flying up as if to keep one of them from attacking the other. “He fancies himself Captain Hook.”

Emma audibly scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Of course you would.”

“And what’s the tone there, Swan?” Jones asks. Disregarding Scarlet’s arm entirely, he comes closer to her, invading her personal space without a care. “Careful, many a lass has found themselves drawn to the captain himself,” he warns her.

And, to be quite honest with herself, she can see why – the whole bad boy thing really works in his favor, what with the general darkness surrounding him and then the pop of his startlingly blue eyes – but she’s been scorned more than once and knows how to react to those asses.

“Right,” Emma monotones. “Anyway, if you guys could give me a tour of the boat-”

“Ship, love.” It’s Jones that interrupts her and she can tell, just knows, that he’s going to do that for the entirety of this project. “The Jolly Roger’s a ship, not a boat.”

“Not your love,” she mutters. And then, under her breath to self, she mumbles, “Really not your love.”

In a moment, he’s somehow magically appeared at her side instead of in front of her, breaking all her boundaries. “We shall see, Swan,” he whispers in her ear. “We shall see.”

Emma jumps, if for no other reason to hide the dissipating goosebumps on her skin.

“Gimme a tour of the ship-” she looks pointedly at Jones- “like Jeff said and we can all get on with our lives.”

With a single nod, Jones strides off, leading the way down the docks, Whale and Scarlet following not too far behind. Robin, however, hangs back with her.

“Welcome to Storybrooke.”

“Thank you,” she says on a sigh. Though the sun is up, the sea breeze keeps the temperature lower than she desires, so she hugs herself to keep from shivering. The sweatshirt was a great idea. “It’s a nice change in scenery.”

“Really? Where are you coming from?”

“The southwest, where it’s really fucking hot all the time.” Her hand flies to her mouth and her eyes go wide. This guy is supposed to be a coworker. She’s supposed to be professional around them, but the cold is really throwing her off her game, among other things. “Sorry.”

Robin chuckles heartily. “Not a problem,” he tells her. “I have a feeling you’ll fit right in with this crew, Ms. Swan.”

Emma brings her hand away from her mouth. Glad at his admission, she requests, “Go ahead and call me Emma, Robin.” He nods. “Honestly, I just pull that out to assert myself. Sometimes guys see a pretty face and their dicks take control of their brains.”

Robin laughs again. “I completely agree. My wife and I are trying to raise my son specifically against that.”

With relief, she smiles. This. This is familiar. This she knows how to approach. “How old is he, your son?” Emma asks.

“A very insistent four and a half.”

She laughs. “I remember those days,” she says with fondness. At that age, they lived in a city and Henry demanded he pet every dog they passed and told their owners how old he was. When she glances at Robin, he’s got the question on the tip of his tongue, which she is more than happy to answer. “My son’s ten now.”

(Robin’s nice. He’s not a dick like his captain, at least. And he’s married, so he won’t hit on her, with a son of his own, which she can relate to, maybe even advise him on from time to time.

Emma thinks she might have just made her first new friend in town.)

“Probably a right young gentleman,” Robin compliments.

“I think so,” she says. “You know how it is with kids. They come into your world kicking and screaming and take over your every waking thought shortly afterwards.”

“Yes,” he agrees with a chuckle. Neither of them talk for a minute as they navigate the wooden slats of the dock. Robin steps ahead of her ever so slightly to lead her to the Jolly Roger. “Well, I hope you both like it here. Once you’re a little more settled, you should come over to our place for dinner. My wife’s lasagna is to die for.”

Emma nods. “We’d love that.”

There are three signs telling her they’ve reached the proper ship. The first is the most obvious – the boat in front of her bears bold black letters at the tip: THE JOLLY ROGER. The second is Emma can spot David’s blond hair and shoulders on the larger ship next to it.

The third is Jones’ loud, already annoying voice interjecting itself into her and Robin’s conversation. “You already inviting the lass to ship dinners?”

“Did he tell you about Regina’s lasagna?” Whale shouts from some unknown corner of the deck.

“More importantly, her apple pie?” Scarlet asks, his head poking over the side of the ship with a wry smile. “I’m tellin ya, mate, songs should be written about Regina’s pie.”

Robin chuckles. “I’ll be sure to send the compliments along,” he says humbly. Then, addressing his captain specifically, he adds, “I was trying to welcome Emma to town. I was saying how we should have her and her son over for dinner soon.”

Jones’ eyebrow goes up. Way up. “Son?” he echoes. Even with the distance between them, Emma catches his eyes flick down to her left hand where it lies across her chest. She’s tempted to hide it all together, just to watch him squirm, but figures he would’ve already caught a glint of wedding band if there were one.

“Yeah,” she responds. “Is that going to be a problem?”

To his credit, Jones doesn’t react to her ringless finger, nor does he react poorly to learning of Henry’s existence. “Quite the contrary, I would think,” he says. “Would he like to become a pirate?”

Robin ushers her up the few steps to the deck while Emma groans. Jones watches her the entire time, like a hawk on its prey, as she clomps up the stairs. “Don’t even joke about that. You should have seen his face when I had to tell him this show wasn’t about pirates.”

Robin and Jones both chuckle at that.

Thankfully, Jones isn’t the one giving her the tour. There’s something about him and the air he gives off that unnerves her. Not in a way that sets off her motherly instincts, makes her want to keep Henry safe from any pervert she comes across. No, this sets off a completely different alarm, and, at the moment, Emma can’t decide whether that alarm is good or bad.

Instead, Robin shows her around the boat, interspersing facts and figures of the vessel with quirky little stories about his son and wife. In turn, Emma feels comfortable enough to ask questions - not that she would care because it is her job on the line. She searches for spots that she think would hold smaller, mounted cameras on the frame of the ship: one inside the galley where the crew hangs out, a couple outside the crow’s nest, another on the rope reeler.

Every once in a while, Whale or Scarlet pops up out of nowhere, adding an unnecessary sexual comment or a snarky jibe. It’s like they wait their turn for the new toy - her.

Robin, to his credit, doesn’t seem fazed. He answers every question she asks in terminology that makes enough sense to her and explains the machinery as they pass by it.

The whole tour doesn’t last very long – the ship’s only about 35 feet long, mostly covered with ropes and cages.

“It’s much roomier once we’ve set the cages down at the bottom,” Robin says. “Little more elbow room, I promise.”

Their final stop is the captain’s roost, where Jones is sitting behind the wheel and making calculations. He looks up but doesn’t say anything while Robin talks.

And, figuring that she won’t be in this place without the captain, Emma allows herself to zone out, let Robin’s voice turn into white noise and dull to a buzz while she studies Jones.

He’s handsome, she’ll give him that. Sharp jawline, laser focus, shaggy hair that manages to fall artfully over his face and ears. She wonders if he wakes up and leaves it like that or if he, like some of the kids at Henry’s school, spends far too long making it look that way.

(He must do something to it. Otherwise, it surely wouldn’t so neatly cover the pinched points of his ears, would it?)

Robin claps his hands, breaking her concentration. “I think that’s it,” he says, glancing at her. “Have any questions?”

“Yeah, can we ‘ave lunch yet?” Scarlet shouts from below. “I’m starved.”

All of them laugh aloud. “Seems like privacy doesn’t exist even up here,” Jones mutters with a pained smile. He yells down to the deck, “You lads can go ahead to Granny’s. I’ll field any questions from Swan.”

“I actually think I’m good,” Emma says as Robin takes his leave. “I just need to compare notes with Jeff and David and then we can start installing the stationary cameras.”

His crewmates shout something back that she can’t quite make out, but he waves them on with a smile. She can tell when they’re back on the docks and on to town by the way his grin falls ever so slightly. He tries to hide it, but she’s always been more observant than the usual person. From his spot at the window, he still somehow manages to swagger up to her in this small space. This time, Emma holds back her eye roll.

“Then if you don’t mind, I’ve got a few queries for you,” he says simply. With a jerk of his head, Jones ushers her down the ladder. His feet hit the deck only a couple seconds after she moves from the bottom rung of the ladder. “These cameras, would you mind telling me where you wish to place them?”

She cocks an eyebrow in curiosity. “Why?”

Turning to face her, Jones tilts his head. His voice goes low again, low and serious. “My brother’s just instated me as captain of this ship and I take that responsibility very seriously.” Straightening his spine, he walks to the side of the ship and looks out toward the sound and open water. “You’ll come to find that the sea can be a fickle mistress. These planks and nails are built to precision.” The way he speaks of the vessel – what Emma thought only this morning as an organized pile of wood and nails – as if it’s a lifeline. And, as he continues, she begins to realize why. “It will be the only thing keeping you from sinking to Davy Jones’ locker in a summer squall, just as those men will be the first people to risk their lives so you can come home to your boy.”

He faces her again, turning his back on the sea. Her eyes quickly flit over him until they connect with his, almost imperceptibly different from the waters he was just observing. There’s overwhelming honesty behind his eyes when he says, “I need to make sure that every man I take out to sea comes back to shore unharmed.”

The ferocity of his tone surprises Emma. It’s in this moment where she can really, really see the character he fancies himself. She wouldn’t want to run into him in a dark alley.

(There’s a moment, a little tickle at the back of her brain, that mentions how much she might enjoy dragging him out into said dark alley, but it’s neither the time nor the place for that sort of thought. Not now, not ever.)

But she shows her appreciation for his protectiveness with a nod. “I don’t think it’ll mess with aerodynamics or anything like that, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she tells him. Emma quickly points out the locations she wants to put the cameras.

“They’re small, no larger than my outstretched hand,” she assures him. Jones asks about the specific dimensions, and Emma shrugs because she just doesn’t know offhand. “I’m telling you, it shouldn’t throw anything off kilter. If you’re really that concerned, talk to Jefferson or David or the captain of the other ship.”

Jones grumbles something to himself, skating his hand over the shadow of hair on his chin and jaw. It seems their conversation has come to an end and, with it, Emma sees the captain in a new light. They’re not too different in at least one aspect: they’re protective of their loved ones. The severe tone of his voice when he speaks about his crewmembers is similar – gruff and unquestionable – as hers is when another parent tries to tell her how to raise Henry.

Her ponderings are interrupted when she hears footfalls joining them on deck. Slowly, she turns on her heel to meet David and another man. He’s tall with curly hair and blue eyes she could pick out of a line up. He sticks his hand out immediately, kind smile wide.

“You must be the Emma Swan I’ve heard legend of,” he says. “I’m Liam Jones, owner of these two fine ships and this is my little brother.”

Off behind her, Jones protests, “Younger brother, Liam, we’ve discussed this.”

“I hope he’s been nothing but a gentleman during your tour?” Emma can’t tell if Liam is serious when he asks the question, but she suspects a hint of teasing.

She smiles at Jones and is tempted to rat him out or make him sweat, but there’s something about him that makes her answer, “Chivalry embodied.”

“Good,” Liam says jovially. He slaps his brother on the shoulder. “Might you two want to join us all for lunch? Granny’s Diner is the place to eat in town.”

Emma looks to David for her answer. He’s already shaking his head. “I promised my wife I’d help her decorate the living room once we finished up here,” he explains.

In her mind, Emma’s already disregarded the Jones brothers’ invitation. In a new town, she finds herself acting a lot like she did in high school and college: she didn’t go anywhere where she didn’t already know one person. She’d spent so much of her childhood losing friends and families that she got sick of making new ones without a solid backup to fall upon when they eventually ran away.

But Jones doesn’t know that.

“And you, Swan? Care for a bite of food?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He’s got a very expressive face, Emma thinks, as he leans closer. In a tone meant only for her, Jones adds, “Perhaps a bite of something else?”

Emma gulps. Like, really gulps, like she’s some nervous cartoon character, for Christ’s sake. And is that a blush she feels rising on her cheeks? She tries to be sly in checking it, pretending to push her hair behind her ears by first brushing over her cheeks. Clearing her throat to buy her even a second more of time to compose herself, she finally responds, “I probably should, but I left Henry all alone at the house this morning, so I’ve got to go back and make sure he hasn’t set the place on fire.”

The Joneses share a look before bursting into laughter. Liam bends at the waist to catch his breath and Jones leans on his brother’s back for support. Emma sends a questioning look to David, who unhelpfully shrugs, and then back to the brothers.

“Love, if there was a fire, you would’ve heard the sirens,” Jones says, the last of his chuckles dying. He sniffs and wipes under his eye. “Alas, I understand. Your boy needs you first.”

And, like a fool, Emma snaps her fingers and sends him finger guns of approval. “Rain check.”

To their credit, neither of the Joneses – or even David for that matter – react. Liam nods and disboards while Jones smirks. “I’ll hold you to that, Swan.”

Biting on her lower lip, Emma nods and waves. Jones winks at her, shakes hands with David, and follows his brother off the ship.

And her eyes follow him. For no reason, she assures herself.

David bumps her shoulder, shocking her from watching the brothers walk away. He’s got a knowing smile on his face.

“Yeah, nothing flusters you,” he chides her in that big brother manner of his. “Nothing at all.”

She doesn’t need to feel her cheek to know the heat of a blush is there. Her lips pursed and arms crossed, all she can think to mumble is, “Shut up.”

#csbb #captain swan big bang #cs ff #ouat #captain swan #my words #storytime #YOu GUYS HAVE BEEN SO PATIENT #I had a nightmare last night where Killian's introduction just kept getting pushed back and pushed back #and i was like EVERYONE IS GOING TO HATE ME #but you wont #or at least not for that reason #also this chapter is hella long #now back to working on something for AU week #will it get done for its specific day? #nope #will it get done eventually? #lets hope so #ditlot

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