#boarding the Chesapeake

[profprincess]

roommate talking about designing a fanregion and I'm like LET ME DESIGN YOUR SILLY LITTLE GUYS

[ltwilliammowett]

To stick to one's guns

From the days of fighting sail, when close engagement of the enemy meant a horrific din of ship's guns, great palls of acrid smoke, and the manic screams of excited and often terrified men. Coupled inevitably with a broadside duel with the enemy was the appaling butchery on each sides, when round shot, grape shot, bar shot, and flying splinters of wood wreaked such carnage on board that the decks often literally ran streams of blood out through the scuppers into the sea. To this end, the gun decks were generally painted red, to lessen the visual impact of the slaughter on the crew. The toll of dead and wounded was known informally as "the butcher's bill" and, more officially, as " the price of the Admiralty"

HMS Shannon and the USS Chesapeake exchange broadsides during their 15-minute battle on 1 June 1813, by Robin Brook (x)

To stick to one's guns, then, under these conditions, was something of an achievement (a gun crew worked a gun on one side of the vessel and a gun on the other, depending on which side the captain chose to engage his adversary). Colloquially, the phrase means to miantain one's position in spite of intense opposition.

[french-unknown]

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒

✔�� : complet 🔥 : smut

[ masterlist ]

✧ 𝐎𝐧𝐞, 𝐭𝐰𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬_𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬_𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨_𝐇 🔥✔️

words : 67,851 Will imagined his death in numerous ways, numerous times. Being chosen as a tribute opened a road of new possibilities, some more horrifying than the others. He doesn’t want to be torn to pieces like Randall Tier’s prey. He doesn’t want to be burned like Francis Dolarhyde prefers to kill. But most of all he doesn’t want to be caught by Hannibal Lecter, a career tribute with a penchant for eating his victims alive. Too bad Hannibal seems fixated on him. Hunger Games!AU

✧ 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐲 @𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 🔥✔️

words : 72,515 After Garrett Jacob Hobbs, Will can't reconcile Abigail's death. He's done - with all of it. He needs to escape, to return to the only place he has ever felt safe and wanted. That place ends up being a sleepy town on the other side of the Chesapeake Bay, where he spent one summer as a child, exchanging riddles and letters with his dearest friend: the Shadow Man.

✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱𝐬_𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 🔥✔️

words : 10,502 When Hannibal tells Will he's sick, Will is skeptical. Before he knows it, he's laying in a hospital bed and being told he's going nowhere for two weeks. Will is distraught until Hannibal swoops in and offers to take over Will's courses at the FBI Academy. Will doesn't mind Hannibal showing up every night with a home-cooked meal, but he might just resent Hannibal becoming the most popular teacher at the Academy in just two weeks... Season 1 AU - if Hannibal wasn't such a MASSIVE dick.

✧ 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱𝐬_𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 🔥✔️

words : 21,753 When Hannibal pops up next to Will in an FBI Academy graduation photo, the result is innocent enough...until Will's coworkers play with photoshop and make the image so much worse. Will would laugh it off, but it seems he can't take a picture without Hannibal showing up in the background. Can Will shake his persistent photo buddy? And more importantly...does he want to?

✧ 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 ✔️

words : 8,945 1st : Online classes due to the quarantine are how Professor Graham's students learn that: 1) Professor Graham has a cute dog; 2) Professor Graham is married; and 3) Professor Graham's husband is smoking hot. 2nd : Online conferences due to the quarantine are how Doctor Lecter's colleagues learn that: 1) Doctor Lecter has a beautiful home; 2) Doctor Lecter is married; and 3) Doctor Lecter's husband is fabulously buff.

✧ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 (𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞) 𝐛𝐲 @𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐨 ✔️

words : 8,114 Hannibal is locked up in the Baltimore Asylum for the Criminally Insane. Supposedly he's in maximum security but he pretty much just breaks out and leaves any time it suits him. And it suits him to break out whenever he thinks Will needs him. I mean, they forgot Will's birthday! Come on, wouldn't you?

✧ 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐒𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 🔥✔️

words : 7,775 Imagine Will calling Hannibal’s cell phone after he’s incarcerated just to hear Hannibal’s voice on his voicemail. Imagine Will leaving Hannibal voicemails about how he wishes things had turned out differently. Imagine Will spilling his heart out to Hannibal’s voicemail, assuming that the man himself will never hear them. Imagine Hannibal listening to these messages.

✧ 𝐎𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 🔥✔️

words : 36,059 "Single Omega household seeking a primary caretaker for high-school aged female. Must own vehicle for chauffeuring, errands, and other duties as necessary. Room and board provided, and a stipend for necessities available for negotiation. Must have open availability and be willing to submit to a background check and drug test. Immediate start." Then a name, and a phone number. Doctor Hannibal Lecter.

✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐖𝐞'𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐨 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐲 @𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐮𝐬 ✔️

words : 17,120 After using an Unforgivable to end the wizard hunt for Hobbs, top Auror Will Graham has been suspended for a year from office to teach the children of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Though initially reluctant to delay his hunt for the Ripper, his misgivings rapidly fade after befriending the Potions Professor and former doctor, Hannibal Lecter.

✧ 𝐏𝐲𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐚 𝐛𝐲 @𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐞𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 🔥✔️

words : 18,989 Will has spent the first 18 years of his life starving. He finally finds what he’s been craving.

✧ 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐲 @𝐁_𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧 🔥✔️

words : 5,271 It all started with the lack of touch. It first happened when Will healed. There was no more excuses for touching, then. The stitches came out, Will's shoulder was moving fine and his face was still pretty. A tiny line that could be easily covered by his beard. Or... When Hannibal refuses to touch Will, Will starts to attract strange womans (and mans) to their house to have sex with them. The cannibal is not pleased.

✧ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐲 @𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 🔥✔️

words : 49,159 Prompt fill for insecure post-Fall Will. After the Fall, Will realizes he doesn’t quite share Hannibal’s capacity for cruelty. He isn’t sure he’ll get to keep him without it.

For those who don't know, because I discovered it really by chance, there is a kind of extended universe of hannigram where the characters of Mads Mikkelsen and Hugh Dancy are shipped even if their characters are not in the same works.

Spacedogs is therefore the pairing between Nigel (Mads Mikkelsen) in Charlie Countryman and Adam (Hugh Dancy) in Adam.

To summarize, it's gangster! Nigel x autistic asperger! adam

✧ 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱𝐬_𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 🔥✔️

words : 28,512 Nigel isn't handling his divorce well. When a good Samaritan starts leaving him gifts on his balcony, Nigel gets suspicious. What could go wrong?

✧ 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭-𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱𝐬_𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 🔥✔️

words : 55,651 Nigel moves to America when he's 10 years old. He hates every second of it. But when a kid in his class slaps a Post It note with a space fact on Nigel's back - his whole world changes. Nigel gets a new best friend, a new hobby, and a love story that he's not sure has a happy ending. Is it possible to meet the love of your life at 10? Nigel's about to find out.

✧ 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐲 @𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 🔥✔️

words : 14,279 Immediately, the small bit of tension he'd been carrying in his neck began to unwind. He sighed into the plushie's shoulder, nosing at the collar of the shirt, and allowed his weight to fall upon it completely. It was propped up against the wall, making it easier to recline against. A smile crept across his face without his intention, and he knew immediately that he wouldn't be returning the bear or the shirt, not for a few more days at least. His eyes had just begun to flutter shut when he heard the distinct sound of a closing door and expensive shoes tapping against the wooden flooring. The walls were thin, he heard most noises that came from the apartment adjacent to his. Nigel was home. ____ Adam and Nigel are next-door neighbors in an apartment with very thin walls. By mistake, Adam ends up with a person-sized plushie that he just doesn't feel like getting rid of. As Adam's obsessive feelings towards his neighbor grow, as well as his collection of items he's stolen from the other man's apartment, he finds himself using the plushie as a stand-in.

✧ 𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐛𝐲 @𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐥 🔥✔️

words : 42,036 An unusual pairing of a thuggish psychopath and a sweet yet sheltered man with Asperger's syndrome. Loosely follows the plots of both movies the character are based from, but ignores a lot of the other characters in either(ie no Gabi, no Charlie, no Beth, etc....). Set in Manhattan but Nigel falls in love with Adam the way he fell in love with Gabi.

[evan-collins90]

Regal Cinemas FunScape - Jarmin Road, Chesapeake, VA (1990s)

"Walking into the Toy Box transforms the ordinary child and parent into a participant. The Crayon Storage Unit, Supersize Scribble Pad Memo Board, Thematic Artist Palette Table, and Paint Jar Seats, Coral Reef Decor for Interactive Seas are products designed to create interactive opportunities for children and parents. The "Interactive Seas Bubble Column" archway and "Gamemania" archway define key attractions in the play area. These archways, with their vibrant colors and miniature game parts, initiate visitors to find new adventures within the FunScape complex."

Designed by Interior Systems, Inc. (ISI)

Scanned from 'Great Store Design 2' (1996)

[whencyclopedia]

Chesapeake-Leopard Affair

The Chesapeake-Leopard affair was an incident that took place off the coast of Norfolk, Virginia, on 22 June 1807 when the British warship HMS Leopard fired on and boarded an American frigate USS Chesapeake while searching for deserters from the Royal Navy. The incident was one of the events that led to the War of 1812.

Background

In 1807, as the United States was still struggling to find its footing as an independent nation, the Napoleonic Wars were raging in Europe. Napoleon Bonaparte, having crowned himself Emperor of the French three years before, found himself opposed by a series of ever-shifting coalitions of European nations bankrolled by Great Britain. On land, Napoleon's armies had proved dominant; with such great victories as the Battle of Austerlitz (2 December 1805) and the Battle of Friedland (14 June 1807), he had conquered Central Europe and was now exerting influence throughout most of the continent. Britain, meanwhile, had smashed French naval power at the Battle of Trafalgar (21 October 1805) and was afterwards the undisputed master of the waves. This dichotomy left the neutral United States in a precarious position: to deal with one empire meant to upset the other. President Thomas Jefferson, nervously keeping tabs on the developments in Europe, voiced the concerns of many of his countrymen when he wrote: "What an awful spectacle does the world exhibit in this instant, one man bestriding the continent of Europe like a Colossus, and another roaming unbridled on the ocean" (Wood, 622).

But even as the war created anxiety in America, so, too, did it open the door of opportunity. American merchants were quick to capitalize on the gap in international trade caused by the fighting; with France and Spain no longer able to send merchant ships to their colonies in the West Indies, these colonies reluctantly opened their ports to American ships instead. The Americans would then re-export these Caribbean goods to European markets, making a fortune in the process. In 1807, the combined value of American imports and exports reached $243 million, turning the United States into the largest neutral carrier of goods in the world. When Britain complained that the United States' middleman trade strategy violated their so-called Rule of 1756 – which prevented nations from trading in times of war with ports that had been closed to them in times of peace – the Americans circumvented the rule by importing the Caribbean goods to the United States before re-exporting them to Europe, technically turning them into neutral cargo in the process.

American shipping would become threatened, however, as the Franco-British rivalry reached its stalemate. Unable to directly attack the British Isles due to the power of the Royal Navy, Napoleon decided to instead force Britain's submission by paralyzing its economy. In November 1806, he issued the Berlin Decree, the first block in his Continental System, in which he issued a continent-wide embargo on British trade. Any ship carrying British goods was liable for seizure, including those belonging to neutral countries. Britain retaliated with several orders-in-council, which placed a blockade on all ports that complied with Napoleon's embargo, stipulating that all nations who wished to trade at these ports had to first stop in England to pay transit duties. This, of course, left the American merchants in a difficult situation, as they could no longer trade at any European port without running afoul of either the French or the British. Before long, the warring empires were each seizing neutral American ships; between 1803 and 1812, France seized 558 American vessels, while the British captured 917.

Continue reading...

[clove-pinks]

The Ganges shortening sail in Rio de Janeiro Harbour by Samuel Hood Inglefield, c. 1848 (NMM).

In his memoir Twenty Years Before the Mast, American sailor Charles Erskine described a scene in the busy harbour of Rio de Janeiro in the late 1830s. Warships of all nations occupied the bay, and a British man-o-war taunted Erskine and his mates with a War of 1812 ditty, leading to musical retaliation:

Among other vessels there was the English line-of-battleship Thunderer of ninety guns and a crew of one thousand men. They usually sang on board of her every night, and always wound up at eight bells by singing the first or second part of "The Chesapeake and Shannon," which was very aggravating to American patriotism. [...]

One night Commander Wilkes happened to appear on deck just as they were singing the obnoxious song, which seemed to annoy him extremely. I will do him the justice to say that, with all his faults, he was a true American, and loved dearly the old flag. One of the crew went aft and asked him if we might return that song next Saturday evening by giving them "The Parliaments of England." "Yes, my man,” was the reply, "and give it to them in thunderous tones, with plenty of Yankee lightning.” Fifty of the best singers began to practice, and on the next Saturday evening, just as the crew on board of the Thunderer had finished singing their usual song, our chorus commenced.

HMS Thunderer (1831), firing a salute in an 1842 drawing by Ebenezer Landells (Wikimedia Commons). Not pictured: her musical accompaniment.

[badbadbadhamster]

Sorry, I'm already full

I'm first time watching hannibal rn and finished watching mouthwashing let's play yesterday. It's so interesting how in this two stories about questioning your sanity, taking responsibility for your own actions and trying to fight someone evil who is much more powerful than you there is a theme of being forced to eat your own flesh (in both cases your own leg), but they serve different purposes

Hannibal forces Abel to eat because it’s a form of humiliation and appreciation at the same time. Hannibal doesn’t see the process of eating Gideon’s leg as something worse than any other case, but he certainly understands that for Abel this moment is his lowest point - he can’t even save his dignity by refusing to eat and has to finally surrender to Chesapeake ripper

Jimmy forces Curly to eat because there is no more food left on board and he sees it as a last chance for his friend to survive. But he doesn’t ask Curly for his consent in this case, neither does he when he eats part of him himself. Jimmy may think that both of this actions are necessary, that he is right and by doing something so horrible he is taking responsibility

In both cases act of eating their own flesh narratively serves as punishment for the things characters did previously - Abel brutally dissected other people and made them look at their own internals, Curly didn’t do anything to protect Anya from Jimmy who violated her body without her consent

[rested-shaved-coffeed]

USS Chesapeake, 38, looking particularly handsome under a pyramid of canvas. Painting by F. Muller (early 20th century).

Launched in Portsmouth, Virginia, in 1799, she was one of the original six frigates of the United States Navy authorized in the Naval Act of 1794. She saw service in the Quasi-War with France and the First Barbary War before being involved in two famous run-ins with the Royal Navy. First, in 1807, HMS Leopard, 50, ran down, fired on, and boarded the Chesapeake to impress Royal Navy deserters, despite the US and Great Britain being at peace. Then, in 1813, now at war, the Chesapeake famously sailed out of Boston harbor to fight a single-ship action with the blockading HMS Shannon, 38, and was captured, breaking the Royal Navy’s streak of defeats in single-ship actions with the Americans. She then had a brief career as HMS Chesapeake before being decommissioned in 1819.

Also has a special place in my heart as a Marylander 🌊🦀🌊

[constantcrisis19]

Hey! I've been following your stuff for awhile and I am obsessed! Keep up the good work and I look forward to the next time you post!

Also, I was wondering if you could write a fic where Will is sick and the reader playing nurse and just giving this man some much needed TLC.

Tender Love And Care

Will Graham x GN S/O

AN: Not sure if this is exactly what you had in mind when you requested this, but I hope that you enjoy it! Thanks so much for your prompt, I had fun writing this!

Word Count: 1,965

The last week had been a test of your patience, between Chilton claiming to have the infamous Chesapeake Ripper in his care, the death of one of his nurses, Chilton’s theory being disproved, the court case, Dr. Gideon’s escape from an armored transfer vehicle and now all the media attention, it was like a fucking circus.

At this point, you were running on nothing but copious amounts of caffeine and pure will power.

You tiredly shuffled into the already packed briefing room, feeling not unlike a zombie as you maneuvered through the crowd, muttering half-hearted apologies as you mindlessly bumped into some of the other equally exhausted agents on your way to the front of the group.

You had just gotten settled, having saved your most recent cup of coffee from being knocked out of your hand by a wayward elbow more times than you could count, when Jack Crawford finally entered the room, the crowd easily parting for him like he was a shark moving through a school of fish.

“Alright, listen up people.” He began when he came to a halt in front of a series of white boards, every single one of them covered entirely in case notes about, not only the Chesapeake Ripper’s greatest hits, but also Gideon’s own confirmed kills. 

You knew every scrap of information, every little detail, every picture and notation on those fucking boards because you’d spent every waking hour over the past week adding to the steadily growing collection and meticulously studying every inch of data, like if you stared at it hard enough, then all the answers would suddenly come to you.

But alas, your job was rarely so easy.

“Our fugitive is Abel Gideon. Transplant surgeon. Convicted in the first degree in the murders of his wife and her family.” Jack stated to the room at large, his voice rough and tone serious, demanding nothing less than everyone’s full attention.

Though, even despite Jack’s commanding presence, you found your gaze wandering.

You lifted your cup of coffee up to your lips, taking a substantial gulp of the cooling beverage as your eyes scanned over the room, almost choking on your mouthful as you did a sudden double take when you spotted the man rumored to be Jack’s breadwinner.

“He’d been institutionalized at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, where he killed a nurse and claimed to be the Chesapeake Ripper.” Jack continued his speech in the background as your gaze raked over the dark-haired man’s figure, your head tilted in blatant curiosity as you watched him.

He was hunched over against the wall, as if he were trying to make himself as small as possible, the man horribly pale and dripping sweat, his curly hair plastered to his head and neck. He was also shaking as if he were freezing cold, which was a cause for concern since the usually comfortable room was actually a bit stuffy because of all the people packed inside, each tremor that wracked his frame looking almost painful.

Your brows furrowed with thinly veiled concern as you tried to meet his gaze, his bright blue eyes glassy as they nonsensically darted about the room, almost as if he were tracking something that no one else could see. 

You glanced around to see if anyone else had picked up on the man’s odd behavior, but either no one noticed or they just didn't care because they were all dutifully facing the front of the room, fully focused on what Jack was saying.

“Dr Gideon escaped this morning after killing three people. He is armed and dangerous. He is believed to be at large.” Jack’s voice became muted as you gave up on keeping up with the briefing altogether in favor of scrutinizing Jack's prized consultant. 

You knew that his name was Will Graham, that he was a special agent and he had a truly insane clearance rate, but anything else about the man was shrouded in mystery. Though, the lack of general knowledge about the man didn’t exactly stop the rumor mill from theorizing about his personal life, if anything it only encouraged the more chatty agents.

You took a peek at Jack to make sure that he was none the wiser to your distracted state before beginning to slowly move through the group of agents, working your way over to the fringes of the crowd and towards the wall that the man was inelegantly slouched against.

You earned a few nasty looks when you had to impatiently nudge at anyone who wasn’t shifting out of your way fast enough, and it wasn’t long before you had reached your destination. 

You stopped about a foot away from Will, not wanting to make him feel cornered, but he didn’t seem to register your arrival, his eyes still wildly shooting around the room. You frowned, reaching out with the intention of maybe grabbing his shoulder or nudging him, but you hesitated halfway through the motion.

Your gaze briefly scanned over the other occupants in the room to make sure that everyone was still paying attention to Jack and was none the wiser to what you were up to, before you tried to get Will’s attention,  whispering just loud enough for Will alone to hear. “Excuse me? Mr. Graham?”

The man still showed no signs of having heard you, his gaze still worryingly distant, and you watched the man tremble and mutter unintelligibly under his breath for a short moment before taking a deep breath and resolutely moving your hovering hand, closing the distance between the two of you and lightly resting your palm on his shoulder.

“Uh, Will? You’re Will, right?” You asked quietly as you squeezed the twitching muscles beneath your hand, trying to rub out some of the obvious tension there. Will violently flinched at the gentle pressure, causing your hand to slide a little further up than you had intended, your fingers brushing across the delicate skin of his neck. 

Your eyes widened when you felt the sheer amount of heat exuding off the man, but you didn’t have a lot of time to linger on the fact that he was worryingly feverish because then Will was blinking rapidly, his hazy gaze clearing as his pale blue eyes darted over to you, settling somewhere near your forehead before darting away just as quickly.

“I- yeah. Yes. Did you need something?” He muttered as he removed his glasses and rubbed his hands over his damp face, sounding a bit dazed and confused, and you felt your gaze soften at the tangible exhaustion in his voice. 

“Well, no, not really. I was just wondering if you were feeling okay? You don’t look too good.” You stated with a weak shrug, scrutinizing every little expression that passed over his face as you spoke. Now that you knew what to look for, it was glaringly apparent that he was horribly sick, if his flushed cheeks, copious amount of sweat, disorientation and fatigue were any indication. 

"I'm fine." Will said unconvincingly, your lips pressing into a thin line as you watched him fumble with his jacket, trembling hands delving into one of the pockets and clumsily rummaging around for a few seconds before emerging with a bottle of what looked like over the counter pain medication.

The pills inside rattled as his shaking hands attempted to get the cap off, Will giving a low, frustrated curse that sounded a touch too desperate when he couldn't manage to successfully open the child lock.

After watching him needlessly struggle for a few seconds, you stepped closer, moving further into his personal space before reaching out to cover his unsteady hands with your own. Will froze, his eyes snapping up from your joined hands to your face, finally looking directly at you for the first time since you’d approached him.

You carefully coaxed his hands away from the stubborn bottle and twisted the cap open for him, tapping three of the chalky, white pills out into your palm before tipping them into the man’s unsteady hand. Will just stared down at the pills resting in the middle of his palm for a long moment, several different emotions flashing across his face so fast that you couldn’t keep up.

“Here. You look like you need it more than me.” You said, regaining his attention before you held your half full cup of coffee out to the man, assuming that the lack of something to wash the medication down with was what was causing the delay.

Will shoved the bottle back into his pocket before warily reaching out to take the offering, like if he moved too quickly, that the coffee cup would bite him or something. You couldn’t help the small smile that spread across your lips at the man’s odd behavior, Will pausing with the cup resting against his mouth when he noticed your amusement.

“What?” He asked a little defensively, but you didn’t take his tone to heart, merely shaking your head as he popped the pills into his mouth. The action was followed by a mouthful of the now cold coffee, the man grimacing as he swallowed before handing the cup back.

“Nothing.” You replied as you rested your back against the wall next to Will, your lips pursing when a thought that you couldn’t ignore came to mind. “You’re very sick. Any chance that you could take a day off to rest up?” You asked, thoroughly unsurprised when Will whipped his head around to shoot you an incredulous look in response.

“I wish.” Will grumbled bitterly as his features hardened into something alarmingly close to resentment, the venom dripping from his words catching you off guard.

“Yeah, I figured, but it was worth a shot.” You shrugged in easy agreement in an attempt to dissipate some of the tension that had descended over the two of you and you hid a smile behind your coffee cup when Will let out a breath as he realized that you were under no delusions about how fucking annoyingly stubborn Jack could get. 

Nothing short of Will being on his deathbed would make Jack bench his best agent during such a high-profile case, no matter how ill Will was. 

“Guess that means I’ll be seeing you around then?” You mused, the man looking startled by the question for a moment before his eyes narrowed, his calculating gaze scrutinizing you for what felt like forever, before he found whatever he had been looking for and the tight line of his shoulders eased.

“Yeah.” He replied as his shoulders slumped, like he was buckling under the weight of the world. You tilted your head at him, eyes flicking over his side profile before you offered him your coffee again. This time, the man didn’t hesitate to take it, sipping at the contents as you both watched Jack wrap up the briefing. 

“Well, I look forward to working with you.” You stated with a genuine smile, pushing off the wall and letting him keep the rest of your coffee since you could just go get more whereas Will would most likely be at Jack's beck and call for the foreseeable future.

He looked a little lost for a moment, as if surprised by your kindness, before he pulled himself together enough to respond. “Likewise.” 

You gave him an encouraging nod and a wide grin before turning on your heel, filling out of the room with the rest of the group once you were all dismissed in order to get back to your desk and go about your usual duties, completely unaware of the way that Will’s keen gaze followed you as you went, his hand clutched around the cup of coffee you gave him.

[dbmars]

New Fic Alert!

Excerpt:

If Jack notices that Will makes eye contact with me – an anomaly for an alleged first meeting, to be sure – he makes no indication. If he notices my smile is laced with a petty sort of satisfaction — one that says, perhaps, this is what happens when you refuse to acknowledge what we mean to one another — he again masks any sign. I’m surprised at myself. Up until this moment I hadn’t realized I was harboring resentment regarding Will’s insistence on discretion. Keeping our affair a secret has benefited me in several ways, the least of which is ensuring I wouldn’t be a suspect, should Will disappear or be found in another of the Ripper’s tableaus. 

But I do resent it, with a strength that borders on fury. 

I slam that particular door in my mind and force my heartrate back into a comfortable zone, chastising myself. This meeting is the culmination of what began a year ago on this day. I am now a friend of the FBI and privy to its secrets. Jack already said he’d show me the Chesapeake Ripper’s file, a scrapbook of my treasured memories. 

“Will Graham. Meet Dr. Hannibal Lecter. He’s a friend of Alana Bloom’s. I asked him to join us today to look at this case – add another layer of insight.”

Will strips off his jacket, tossing it on one of Jack’s office chairs near the door. He fiddles with the collar of his shirt, deliberately not looking at me. How I long to see him in something that fits him well and wasn’t selected from Lands’ End or Eddie Bauer. His figure would be devastating in tailored trousers. Jack glances at me apologetically with a miniscule shrug. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. 

Jack’s administrative assistant pops his head in. “Mr. Graham, can I get you a coffee?”

Black, with two sugar packets.

“Black,” Will says over his shoulder as he pauses in front of the board Jack’s assembled, surveying the bland faces of the victims. I’m sure they all would have made lovely real estate agents or business majors. “Sugar. Two of ‘em.” 

The assistant returns with an ebony mug, placing it on the front of Jack’s desk in reaching distance from the empty chair that Will must soon occupy. Across from Jack and right next to me. As Jack begins the meeting, he takes the seat reluctantly after a time, unable to avoid proximity any longer. “I’ve filled Dr. Lecter in on the details, and your observations at the Nichols house. We were just getting to all the false confessions coming into the tip lines.”

“Maladjusted teens and the mentally ill,” Will grunts, emptying sugar packets into his mug and stirring them with the red plastic stick provided. “Influenced by the media coverage.”

I get to my feet just to pass behind him, get a lungful of his scent, clean and crisp like the woods around his home, carrying soft traces of his dogs and the remnants of engine grease under his fingernails. Delicious, now that I’ve gotten him to stop wearing that abominable aftershave. I lean toward the board, Jack at my side; I pretend to study the map and its connecting lines. I can feel Will’s eyes on me, burning into me with the heat of agonized betrayal. I’ve certainly knocked him off balance – good. “Tell me then, how many confessions?”  

“Twelve dozen, last time I checked. None of them knew the details. Until this morning. Then everyone knew the details.” Jack resumes his seat. I stand at the board, looking at him, feeling the waves of irritation as they roll off Will like smoke. “Some genius in Duluth PD took a picture of Elise Nichols’ body with their phone and shared it with their friends. Then Freddie Lounds ran it on Tattlecrime.com.”

“Tasteless,” Will mutters half under his breath. He might mean Ms. Lounds’ journalism practices, but I think he’s referring to my surprise appearance at his place of work. Again, I feel the base satisfaction of having rattled him. Forcing him to reap what he’s sown, give him a taste of what I’ve endured — his own shame and discomfort transferring to me by proxy when he insisted we keep our affections secret, hiding them like our relationship was something rotten that needed to be buried, decomposing out of sight, out of mind.

“Do you have trouble with taste?” I ask, softly benign. My therapy voice. Will hates it. 

“My thoughts are often not tasty.” I do love watching him squirm. But my enjoyment is clouded by sudden images of comforting Will in the wake of his bloody investigations, holding him through his suffering, waking him when I knew he was having nightmares so vivid they dampened our sheets with terror sweat. 

“Nor mine. No effective barriers.” He knows this. I told him about Mischa. He’s the first person I’ve told, save Bedelia du Maurier. He doesn’t know that I ate her but understands how she was taken from me. 

“I make forts.”

“Associations come quickly,” I say. This may appear to Jack like some brilliant on-the-spot psychoanalysis, but I know because Will’s told me his traumas in return. 

“So do forts,” he insists, looking down into the sweet blackness of his coffee cup with a petulant little turn to his lip.

I continue to twist the knife. “Not fond of eye contact, are you?

Will turns to me. “Eyes are distracting. You see too much. You don’t see enough.” As in, he’s scolding himself for not anticipating I’d do something like this. He looks directly at me now. “And it’s hard to focus when you’re thinking those whites are really white or they must have hepatitis, or is that a burst vein?” Cheeky, yes, but also a jab – I did burst a vein in my left eye during our time at the cabin on the ranch in West Virginia due to a particularly powerful orgasm. He chided me then for my vanity as I lamented the bloody speck marring my sclera. 

[madmonksandmaenads]

HI SLUTS! Guess who got high and started looking through sailboat racing archives? THIS GIRL! I have returned from my spiritual journey to deliver onto you the choicest of Skipjack and "Log Canoe" photos. You're welcome.

Skipjacks are oyster harvesting ships designed around a legal loophole. Oyster dredgers had their power legally limited by being restricted to only one mast, so how do you keep dredging more oyster. STUFF THAT ONE MAST WITH AS MUCH SAIL AS POSSIBLE

Look at her! One Mast, 4 sails, 0 problems!

With the advent of motor boats many skipjacks and their cousins the "Log Canoes" were abandoned in favor of motorized dredgers. In boggy marshes these princes of the Chesapeake were left to molder, open graves for all to view their majesty in decay.

modern skipjacks are a popular racing vessel and they are beautiful sights dancing on the bay. I just want these two boats to kiss so bad.

"Log Canoes" are the smaller, crazier cousins of the Slipjacks. Originally made from hollowed out logs, they were continuously optimized for SPEED! This is because the first oysterman to return to the Buy Boat(big boats that bought fresh oysters from other boats to sell in market) would get the best price for their oysters, so every day was racing day.

Log Canoes have also become a modern racing boats carrying on the tradition of teeny tiny boats going ridiculously fast. You can see in these photos that they are so small, and their sails are so big, that they need "Boardmen" whose job it is to put down and then sit on long boards. These sluts are living counterweights to make sure that when the boat is moving perpendicular to the wind it doesn't capsize.

and if they mess up they will capsize, and then you're left looking like an idiot until you either manage to right the ship or the regata's official comes by in their boat.

Also I don't know why but middle-aged dads have never looked sluttier than when they are hanging off a tiny sailing vessel with their legs all stretched out trying not to fall into the Bay.

[gastroenterologists]

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[ltwilliammowett]

Today's door no. 3 takes us back to the 17th century. More precisely, to a trading vessel and to Maryland. Say hello to Dove

More about her below:

Ark and Dove were the two ships used to establish the Maryland Colony. The Ark was a 400-ton cargo ship hired by Cecil Calvert to transport about 140 colonists and their equipment and supplies to Maryland. The Dove was a much smaller cargo ship with a capacity of 40 tonnes, purchased by Cecil Calvert and investors so that the colonists would have a ship of their own once the Ark sailed for England.

The two ships set sail from the Isle of Wight on 22 November 1633. Three days later, on 25 March, a storm arose in the Channel and the Dove was seen waving emergency lanterns at her masthead before disappearing into the storm. Those on board the Ark assumed that she had sunk in the storm. It wasn't until six weeks later that they learnt otherwise, when the Dove arrived in Barbados and joined the Ark.

The two ships reached Old Point Comfort on 24 February 1634, after a three-month voyage (including 66 days at sea). After spending a week at Old Point Comfort, they departed on 3 March and sailed up the Chesapeake to the Potomac River, where they landed on St. Clements Island. They spent the rest of March exploring and negotiating with the Indians for a place to settle. On 25 March, Father Andrew White held a thanksgiving mass to celebrate the acquisition of 30 square miles of land on the east bank of the St. Mary's River, and on 27 March the colonists left St. Clements to occupy the acquired land and name their settlement ‘St. Mary's’.

Ark returned to England at the end of May, leaving Dove behind to organise the transport of goods traded on the Atlantic coast. In the autumn of 1634, Dove was sent north to Boston to trade corn for stockfish and other goods. In August 1635, Dove was sent back to England with furs and timber to trade. Dove was never seen again, probably lost at sea.

The Dove in the picture is an older replica of a vessel from the late 17th century. The newer Dove is dated a few years earlier.

[thatshadowgastwhore]

If I’ve said it once I’ve said it a thousand times…Annabeth Chase isn’t from San Francisco. She grew up on the east coast before she ran away, specifically in Virginia, even more specifically, near Chesapeake Bay. (SoM) Her dad and step mom and step brothers moved to San Francisco between SoM and TC and he asks her to move with him, which she tells Percy in TC, but she does not move there until between TC and BotL, because we know she went to school with a Thalia at a boarding school prior to her being kidnapped in TC, and that Luke showed up at her door and asked her to run away, which she declined, pre BotL (via Hermes in tLO) and even then, she still spends a lot of time in New York….like she’s not a California girl my guys

[sourweather-fics]

“Sorry for waking you.” “I would rather be low on sleep than leave you alone, you know that.” He does. It still worries him, from time to time. “Maybe you should just stay at your place for the next couple weeks, all the same,” he says, though it’s the furthest thing from what he actually wants. What he actually wants is to crash into Hannibal like a shipwreck, to let Hannibal seep between the broken boards of him and fill him up until he sinks. Hannibal doesn’t even need to refuse the suggestion for Will to know he’s not going to take it. “You’re anticipating an uptick in nightmares?” Will shrugs, helpless. Almost bashful, he says “What can I say, he’s always had a way of getting in my head.” “The Chesapeake Ripper.”

[whencyclopedia]

Chesapeake-Leopard Affair

The Chesapeake-Leopard affair was an incident that took place off the coast of Norfolk, Virginia, on 22 June 1807 when the British warship HMS Leopard fired on and boarded an American frigate USS Chesapeake while searching for deserters from the Royal Navy. The incident was one of the events that led to the War of 1812.

Background

In 1807, as the United States was still struggling to find its footing as an independent nation, the Napoleonic Wars were raging in Europe. Napoleon Bonaparte, having crowned himself Emperor of the French three years before, found himself opposed by a series of ever-shifting coalitions of European nations bankrolled by Great Britain. On land, Napoleon's armies had proved dominant; with such great victories as the Battle of Austerlitz (2 December 1805) and the Battle of Friedland (14 June 1807), he had conquered Central Europe and was now exerting influence throughout most of the continent. Britain, meanwhile, had smashed French naval power at the Battle of Trafalgar (21 October 1805) and was afterwards the undisputed master of the waves. This dichotomy left the neutral United States in a precarious position: to deal with one empire meant to upset the other. President Thomas Jefferson, nervously keeping tabs on the developments in Europe, voiced the concerns of many of his countrymen when he wrote: "What an awful spectacle does the world exhibit in this instant, one man bestriding the continent of Europe like a Colossus, and another roaming unbridled on the ocean" (Wood, 622).

But even as the war created anxiety in America, so, too, did it open the door of opportunity. American merchants were quick to capitalize on the gap in international trade caused by the fighting; with France and Spain no longer able to send merchant ships to their colonies in the West Indies, these colonies reluctantly opened their ports to American ships instead. The Americans would then re-export these Caribbean goods to European markets, making a fortune in the process. In 1807, the combined value of American imports and exports reached $243 million, turning the United States into the largest neutral carrier of goods in the world. When Britain complained that the United States' middleman trade strategy violated their so-called Rule of 1756 – which prevented nations from trading in times of war with ports that had been closed to them in times of peace – the Americans circumvented the rule by importing the Caribbean goods to the United States before re-exporting them to Europe, technically turning them into neutral cargo in the process.

American shipping would become threatened, however, as the Franco-British rivalry reached its stalemate. Unable to directly attack the British Isles due to the power of the Royal Navy, Napoleon decided to instead force Britain's submission by paralyzing its economy. In November 1806, he issued the Berlin Decree, the first block in his Continental System, in which he issued a continent-wide embargo on British trade. Any ship carrying British goods was liable for seizure, including those belonging to neutral countries. Britain retaliated with several orders-in-council, which placed a blockade on all ports that complied with Napoleon's embargo, stipulating that all nations who wished to trade at these ports had to first stop in England to pay transit duties. This, of course, left the American merchants in a difficult situation, as they could no longer trade at any European port without running afoul of either the French or the British. Before long, the warring empires were each seizing neutral American ships; between 1803 and 1812, France seized 558 American vessels, while the British captured 917.

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