my contribution!!

Greetings Fannibals! So this is my contribution to the HannibalOdyssey Fest. It is a fantasy map of the place where we spend so much of our time. I present to you

The Land of Fannibals Map

So basically you can see where you live based on which area of the fandom you spend most of you time in. Are you a writer of angsty fics, then you make your home in Fic Forest near the Cliff of Tears. Are you a maker of Gifs and Edits, then Mirror Lake is your home. Or are you a wandering minstrel that travels the entire length of the island. The cannimals and I live in the Adoraburbs of the Prairie D’Art near to the foot of Crack Mountain.

Long description under the cut

Keep reading

CSJJ Day 21: My Favorite Part of the Day

You run a coffee shop and say I’m your best customer, when a bad blizzard hits, I’m crazy enough to brave the storm to get my coffee, and you persuade me to stay for my safety.

My contribution to @csjanuaryjoy!!!! Tagging @icecubelotr44 so she can add it to the collection

I want to dedicate this to the lovely @kdanna03 on the occasion of her birthday. Thank you for being a wonderful human being. I love you, darling.

Also, this is loosely inspired on one of the love stories of Love Actually.


My favorite part of the day

He first came in on a late spring afternoon. The season hadn’t even begun, it wasn’t even summer, so Emma was instantly intrigued by the dark-haired stranger who walked into her coffee shop.

Storybrooke couldn’t even be considered a tourist attraction, it was more a remote and forsaken town lost along the Maine coastline. But during the summer, from time to time, a few daring adventurers would show up. They were usually the occupants of passing sailboats, choosing to dock in town for a day or two and replenish their supplies. Some of them even braved the woods, hiking for an afternoon before coming back into town to a few dinner options and only one bar.

The Dark Swan was a short walk from the docks, in a coveted location that offered both a view of the sea and the woods. It was the only coffee shop in town and Monday to Saturday, from seven in the morning until eight in the evening, Emma would serve the local patrons a small but high-quality variety of coffee, tea, pastries, and sandwiches. Then she’d lock up and climb the stairs to the small loft above the shop where she lived.

It wasn’t much, but after decades of being alone and struggling to find her place in life, it was hers. And it felt a lot like home - or what Emma thought home should feel like.

Keep reading