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fantasyfestinkeywestflorida · 10 months

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Here is my updated 2023 Fantasy Fest suggested list of items to consider for your Key West adventure. Feel free to add your own items and modify this list with your own suggestions:

I created this checklist for those Krewe that go with me on my annual Trips to Fantasy Fest.

So, with 128 days to go (as of 06/13/2023) for Fantasy Fest 2023 (October 20-29), please feel free to adapt and modify this list to meet your needs and criteria for your Fantasy Fest trip.

This changeable checklist of travel suggestions allows you to cherry pick travel items for trips to Fantasy Fest or similar destinations or venues:

AIRPORT & AIRPORT TRANSFERS: Passport, driver's license or other ID and copies of passport facepages in luggage) Covid vaccination card and/or negative Covid test results (optional) Airline ticket/confirmation number papers & itineraries Airport transfer documents Clothes for flights (bras, underwear, closed-toe shoes) Luggage with name tags, luggage locks and passport copies inside Luggage lined with empty trash bags that can later be used for dirty clothes, makeshift rain ponchos, covers for beach/pool bags in the rains Snacks, power and/or protein bars Empty water bottle Anti-bacterial/virus wipes or small Purel bottle Black ink pen for completing any paperworld/customs/immigration on the plane and/or airport terminal

PERSONAL ITEMS: Prescription glasses Small bills ($1, $5, $10 for misc. purchases, misc. tips) Credit card(s) Purse and/or wallet Jewelry (costume preferred) Watch Emergency contact phone numbers and info sheet Vitamins Hospitality items Pen, notepad Mini-flashlight for bedside Ipod & earbuds Pain relievers (Advil/Tylenol) Stomach ache/medicine (Pepto-Bismol, Imodium, etc) Kindle and/or books Prescription medications in original containers with copies of actual prescriptions Beaded name necklace Business or contact cards

POOL & BEACH AREAS: Hats Sunglasses (and a second pair in case of misplaced/lost problems) Sunblock 15/30/70 Chapstick/lip balm Beach/Pool bag Special towels Coverups Flip flops/sandals Water shoes/aquasocks Water bottle/insulated & refillable drink mug Wristlet for room key (if applicable) Empty garbage bags (in case of rain to put all items into for walk back to room) Optional: Mask/snorkel for any boat trips to the Key West area reefs

ROOM: Sleepwear, sleep mask, earplugs Mini-alarm clock Computer and charger Smartphone & charger Camera and charger/batteries Office supplies/folders Small pocket flashlight for nightstand and pool bag at night Reading glasses Business cards Disposable clothes hangers Sewing kit with safety pins Optional: Room attendant gifts like school supplies, etc

TOILETRIES: Hand wipes or Purel Mini 1st aid kit with Band-aids, antibiotic ointment, Hairbrush/comb and accessories (clips, scrunchies etc.) Perfume/cologne Cotton balls & swabs Contact lenses, saline solution, & case Curling iron Deodorant Feminine hygiene items Hairspray Insect repellent and anti-itch creams (Benedryl, etc) Makeup and remover Hand lotion/moisturizer Eye drops (Visine) Mouthwash Nail clippers/file/scissors/tweezers Nail polish/remover Ziplock baggies Razor & shaving cream Sewing kits/eyeglass repair kit Special shampoo or conditioner Toothbrush, toothpaste, floss Drinking Mate tablets (for those that tend to be “over-served” their alcoholic drinks Aloe vera gel/lotion for sunburns/skin conditioner

THEME NIGHTS & RESORT ACTIVITIES: Costumes Boots Dress shoes Sandals/flat shoes Wigs Props & accessories (glow sticks, sippy cup, stickers, Scotch tape Paint and brushes for rock painting Exercise clothing/shoes Resort casual clothes for non-buffet restaurants

OFF-PROPERTY EXCURSIONS: Foldable pocket rain poncho/mini-umbrella Shoes, socks, shorts, tank top/t-shirt Tip & souvenir cash Backpack, collapsible tote bag Drink bottle with lid

Another consideration: A recommendation from a Krewe member is that Key West guests that plan to return to the next FF confirm their following year reservation and rates before they leave Key West–and get it in writing.

Finally, Check with the airlines the amount (weight) of baggage LEAVING Key West. There was a restriction on departing flights, not those arriving. Many veteran FF attendees ship their costumes and “gear” to the place they are staying, or to a package holding business. (e.g. Mail Boxes, UPS store, etc.) Check with where you are staying as most will accept incoming packages for arriving guests.

Obviously, not everyone would need all of these items but it is a start for picking and choosing those things you might want to have at Fantasy Fest. .

Safe travels to you!

Annie, TheUltimateCougar

Be sure to check out more of my daily Fantasy Fest photos and videos here:

www.flickr.com/groups/fantasyfesters (40,000+ photos

www.flickr.com/groups/fantasyfest2023

www.flickr.com/groups/fantasyfest2022

onlyfans.com/TheUltimateCougar (all of my 100% uncensored videos and photos from Fantasy Fest)

mewe.com/group/5be9dd519619704267f87e05

https://www.reddit.com/r/FantasyFestKeyWest/

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fantasyfestinkeywestflorida

Incredible fun in and out of costumes and clothes, and with the fun times only a Krewe de Krazy Life group can create.

#fantasyfest #FF2023 #FantasyFest2023 #KrewedeKrazyLife #October #Halloween #keywest #floridakeys #conchrepublic #costumes #Florida #checklist #travelchecklist #travel #vacation #holiday #bodypainting #flashing #CaptainTonysSaloon #festival #bodypainting

#fantasyfest #fantasyfest2023

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ghostiestims · 3 years

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White and blue stimboard but specifically toothpaste white and blue

x / x / x　x / x / x　x / x / x

#your folder on my computer was named toothpaste #I just need you to know that #okie dokie it's TAG TIIIIME #blue #white #paint #paint mixing #crystals #rocks #soap cutting #chalk #chalk cutting #piping #glitter #stim #stimboard #my stimboard #stimboard request

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veridium · 5 years

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that’s what you get

Oh boy. Oh dear. Well, we have made it to Part 14 of this wild ride, and I have realized that I am in deep, boys. I figure, what’s some more suffering to temper the sweetness with? So, here, a fresh serving of angst and emotions with a side of...sushi?

Thanks to @bitchesofostwick and her Ellinor for providing 99% of the fluff content in this episode because, poor Cass and Liv, it’s not in the cards this time...as you can tell by my selection of titles being a very particular Paramour song.

Enjoy the somber pining, dears!

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9 // part 10 // part 11 // part 12 // part 13

-- -- -- -- --

Fridays are pains. Three classes, work, among other things -- they always feel like the final, difficult hurdle before the weekend rolls around. It helps to run into Ellinor in the dorm bathroom to brush teeth and dance around in pajamas until they feel some semblance of happiness. Alas, when Olivia stumbles in her black satin pajamas and finds no one there standing like George Michael from Arrested Development with a toothbrush in her mouth, it’s rather odd.

She looks at her phone. No messages -- no “got back safe” specifically. Oh no, is this when she has to turn into the woman from Kill Bill because someone snatched her best friend in the dark of the night?

-- Hey!! You make it back??? Why aren’t you up?

Ellinor: I’m good! Don’t go bananas.

-- What?? What’s going on?

✓ Read 8:03am

She tosses the phone on the shelf below the row of mirrors and slips some Crest paste on her toothbrush. While she gets busy, Ellinor finally responds:

Ellinor: I got caught up at Cullen’s. Stayed the night instead of walked back. It was a long movie.

Bitch. Olivia nearly chokes on her spit and toothpaste build-up in her throat. No fucking way did she just get ‘caught up’ in a late movie. Ellinor was not a lingering sort of girl. She got in, got out, clean hands and all. Deliberate was her middle name.

-- OMG. YOU FOUND OUT HOW MANY LICKS IT TOOK TO GET TO THE CENTER OF HIS TOOTSIE POP DIDN’T YOU?!

Ellinor: I hate you

-- YOU DIIDDDDDD OH MY GOD

Ellinor: I DID NOT OKAY HE LET ME STAY OVER THAT IS ALL

Ellinor: goodbye, blocked

She does a little happy dance on her toes, her brush sticking out of her cheek. Finally! Now everything is getting good. Cullen will start coming around, and he won’t sulk so much. Ellinor will get some action -- some good, honest, emotionally fulfilled action -- and all will be well.

She finishes up with her preliminary morning hygiene and walks back into the hall. Her stomach tenses still as she remembers the flyer on her door, but to her pleasant surprise there’s nothing waiting for her – just her RA-crafted door decorations and a small collage of music lyrics made during a Hall social.

The day continues without a hitch, well, except for a rather hilarious texting conversation with the woman who said she would block her but hours earlier. Leaving class, she finds this hilarious string of texts for her to read:

Ellinor: omg he brought me coffee, but I already bought my own!! shit fuck what do I do

Ellinor: GOD IM SUCH A DUMBASS

Ellinor: it’s all good I did a lap around the first floor and chugged it. I’m good. This is fine.

Olivia smirks to herself walking down the stairs in her boot heels, and types back a kind response:

-- Man, you’re going to have a great time in the bathroom today aren’t you?

Ellinor: I plead the fifth.

She gets through all three classes and her work shift at the University Rec building teaching her midday barre classes. Amidst the many talents her parents groomed her for, dance was one of the very select few that stuck -- and fortunately for her, landed a good job once she got to college. The staff are all cool, with the exception of a few quirky, type A ballet divas.

A couple classes to teach, a shower in the locker rooms, and she’s out the door and back to her dorm. She doesn’t plan on seeing Ellinor when she stops in to get ready for her TA work session with Cassandra. She gets through flat ironing her hair to at least look semi-presentable, a fresh light face of makeup. For her outfit, she selects black yoga tights and a black bando with a see-through chiffon collared sleeveless shirt of the same color. No jewelry, no pomp. The last touch is slip-on sneakers.

By the time she’s putting her hair up in a ponytail, it’s 5:15pm. She’s been a bit eager to prepare for this. A thought occurs to her: it’s Friday evening. Dinner time. Why not do something kind of...nice? She jumps up and grabs her car keys, her backpack of work to do, phone, and wallet, throwing it all into her shoulder bag and heading out.

She drives to the nearest Safeway and picks up a couple plates of their pre-made deli sushi. When she’s at the checkout line she does that Mom thing and sets her bag on the counter to find her debit card. As she scrambles, though, she finds that there’s something missing from its contents that she had taken for granted was there. The flyer. No sign of it, as if it grew legs and escaped. Fuck.

The checkout staffer is looking at her like she’s gone rich girl bonkers, so she pulls out her plastic money and gets it over with. Where could it have gone? She gets in her car, and before she leaves the store parking lot, makes sure to cover her bases.

-- Hey, did you keep the flyer?

-- Ellinor: Nope. Gave it back.

She checks her time, and it’s 5:45. To her credit, Safeway is only a couple stoplights from campus. She might be a bit late, but not offensively so.

Henderson Hall is in fact to the left of quad. Trust issues blocked on that one. As she walks up the steps through the archway entrance, she can’t help but wonder if Cassandra is going to be there. She had not texted her all day, which, in their short time as friends was a custom. Cassandra was attentive to plans.

10E is on the ground floor, so it’s a matter of picking the right direction and following the wall signs down into a bundle of offices. Dimly lit in some spots (Friday night of course) but, one room bright as can be through the doorway facing her as she rounds the corner. She peaks in, leaning against the wall a bit where a sign says “TA Work Room.” It’s a somewhat large room, with two windows on the opposite wall and a small, brown love-seat down between them. On the right wall, shelves of books and small succulent plants.

Then, a desk with a desktop computer and a dark red vase on the corner full of...flowers? Cassandra, though. She’s there. And when it’s realized she is there, Olivia only has eyes for her.

“Hey…” she says, as if she has a secret to tell.

Cassandra looks up, having reclined back in her seat with her legs crossed, a paper in her lap that she had been reading. “Hey!” her eyes go bright and she straightens up. “I thought you got lost, or something. I was about to text you.”

“Nah,” Olivia giggles nervously. She steps into full view of the open doorway, bags in both hands. “I was just weighed down by precious cargo.”

Cassandra’s eyes bounce between both arms of stuff, but she lingers on the white Safeway bag. “Oh?”

“Yeah! I thought...well, I was just in town and I picked up some rations to sustain us as we survive the trenches.” She comes forward and sets her stuff down on a neighboring desk that is smaller and without a computer. She efficiently pulls out the four sushi plates and sets them in a line.

“I didn’t know if you liked sushi. If you don’t, I’ll happily eat it all.” She glances over at her with a cheerful smile, trying her best. But Cassandra looks uneasy for some reason. Going for broke on the charm, Olivia pivots on her dancer toes and tosses her some chopsticks -- another sudden throw that Cassandra catches successfully.

“So, take your pick. Spicy tuna, California roll, or Dragon roll…”

Cassandra grins politely, breaking the nervous facade. “Uh, Dragon, please.”

“Hm!” Olivia lifts a teasing brow, “Noted for future reference.” She grabs and hands her the plastic carton, the soy sauce bags sliding in the box as Cassandra takes it from her. Nothing. Just...manners.

“Thank you,” Cassandra says lastly, setting off the stack of midterms to the side. “You can use that desk, if you want. I can get you a chair from the lounge--”

“Oh, no, don’t worry, I got it,” Olivia shrugs. She’s busy arranging her stuff around, pulling out the folders of bibliographies she’ll have to sort through and pick apart like a demon. “You’re all settled in, anyways.”

“No, it’s fine, I insist.” Cassandra gets up, as if commanded like a SIMS character, and rushes out into the hall. Olivia freezes and watches her go, the light breeze she generates carrying through the fly-away strands of her hair. Geez, okay, fine. Revive chivalry single-handedly then. When she returns, it’s not with a folding chair or one of the generic sitting ones on campus, it’s a whole computer chair, complete with rolling wheels and comfortable arm rests. It looks almost better than the one she has, and as she sets it down without breaking a sweat, it makes Olivia’s temporary desk look puny almost.

“...Thanks,” Olivia mutters with a second smile. “I feel like I should have a seat belt come with it.”

Cassandra chuckles -- but it isn’t her chuckle. It’s an anxious one, the kind Olivia gives at everything. She can spot it in another person a mile away. But, as they both sit down, she doesn’t bother to ask why.

Eating the first bites of sushi, her eyes go from her paper stacks to Cassandra’s quiet eating face so much it almost makes her dizzy. “You tired?” she broaches, ripping open another soy sauce packet for her California roll.

Cassandra shakes her shoulder as she’s mid-bite. “Yeah, a bit. I had class, and my volunteer hours at the YMCA. You?” Shit, that’s right. She volunteers teaching sports and tutoring. Stop being perfect.

“Yeah. I taught dance today...classes...nothing out of the ordinary, though.”

Cassandra looks up, and her response is immediate. “Nothing? You sure?”

Olivia almost flinches from the sudden shift in focus, and she sits up. “...Yeah…”

“You are absolutely certain?”

Olivia’s brow goes low, and she sets her chopstick hand down on the table. “Is this where you tell me I’m in that movie 50 First Dates and you’ve been having me bring you sushi every day for years?”

Cassandra purses her lips and looks down, a hint of blush in her cheeks. She then keeps eating, like the conversation suddenly doesn’t matter. Olivia wants to damn-near pick a fight, if it means getting responses and energy out of her. Exam grading or not, she’s acting funny. There’s no subtle confidence, no consideration and insightful look in her.

A couple hours pass, and the sushi has long-been eaten and tossed back in the bag it all came in. Olivia has gotten her elbows in deep with grading, about 1/2 of the way done with bibliographies. They are understandably messy and riddled with errors, of which she outlines every single one with blue pen -- a more relaxing color than the quintessential red. Cassandra is hard at work too, as is her style. She’s returned to sitting back in her chair with her legs crossed, paper in one hand and pen in the other, which she is clicking with her thumb every minute or two. At times, Olivia feels eyes on her, but she keeps focused. If Cassandra wants to say something, she says it.

At almost 8:30pm Olivia’s phone dings, and she glances over. She sees Ellinor’s name, but before she can read the message, Cassandra speaks.

“Olivia, I…”

She perks up. “Yeah?”

Cassandra is locked on her, end of her pen held close to her mouth. It almost takes what little breath she has away, the smartness of her. Her dark blue, long-sleeve sweater french-tucked into her black jeans with a slim belt on. Her somewhat narrow but toned shoulders hunched up a bit against the chair. Her tucked chin, emphasizing her keen but slightly-softened stare.

“...W-What’s up?” she looks from side-to-side, like a trap door is about to go off.

“I…” Cassandra pulls the staples pages back in order on the paper she’s on and tosses it onto the table. “I was wondering if...you were planning on telling me anything. Anything important.”

“Uh...no.”

“See…” Cassandra clicks her pen a couple times, her hands going to her lap, “I disagree.”

“You disagree?” Olivia sits back in her chair, elbows going to her armrests. “What does that mean?”

“It means I think you do have something to tell me. Or rather, should.”

“You’re right.”

Cassandra blinks, her face one of ‘oh, it was that easy?’ but things are never that easy with Olivia. She should know better than most anyone.

“Yeah. I lied when I said I preferred twizzlers. Red vines are better. I just didn’t want to partake in the discourse.”

Cassandra lays her head back, her eyes going up to the ceiling as she huffs out her nose. “Ugh, good God, I mean the flyer. The Church flyer with the writing on it!”

Olivia drops her pen and rolls back from the desk. Her vision blurs for a minute as she looks to the ground. It’s her worst nightmare realized: now it’s going to be a thing, a thing she can’t just control all by herself.

“Oh. That flyer,” she mutters, pulling her knees into her lap as she rolls her chair around to face her. “H-how did you find out?”

Cassandra sighs, rubbing the side of her head. Giving into the talk, she sets her own pen down, and stands up to go to the door. She shuts it quietly, as if anyone would be lurking around the office at 8:30pm hoping to pick up on this sweet gossip. She comes back to her seat and leans forward onto her desk with her forearms.

“Cullen. Apparently, you had dropped it in the library when you ran into him. He found it on the floor after you had left. He thought you’d be planning on saying something anyways.”

Cullen. That Golden Retriever-looking, best-intentions-having, Sulky-dude-bro-when-he’s-hammered, nice-guy-who-tries, shagging-her-best-friend son of a--

“Right.” She chews down on the inside of her cheek and rubs the rim of her mouth with her hands.

“I waited...for you to tell me on your own. I didn’t want it to be like this, but you seem to have had no plan to tell me even though it clearly has something to do wi--”

“With what, Cassandra?” she bites back, looking up and locking an acidic stare with her compassionate one. Silence. Awkward silence.

“...With me. I was going to say with me.” She goes sort of breathless at the end, but it’s too soft and fleeting for Olivia to care.

“That’s bold of you to assume. You clearly don’t know anything about what I’ve been through when it comes to bullying on account of my explicit behaviors.” She squirms a bit in her chair and holds her knees tighter against her chest.

“Whose fault is that? Agh,” Cassandra says bluntly while watching her, “you really should file a report. There are conduct rules for a reason, and this is at the very least sexual harassment. I looked it--”

“You looked it up?!” Olivia’s eyes go wide. “Jesus, why don’t you just file it for me then, since you seem to have it all figured out! Waiting for me to tell you, what the fuck, am I twelve or something?” She jumps up from her chair, no longer satisfied with being her equal. She goes for the couch, taking her phone with her as she lands on the corner cushion, tucking one leg under her.

“I was just--” Cassandra tries to respond before Olivia makes her move but is cut off. When Olivia sits, she resumes. “I was just trying to help. You shouldn’t have to fear going to your dorm at the end of the day or walking to classes.”

“Who says I fear any of those things?”

“So, you’re saying you are completely unmoved by this? That you see no problem with people calling you something so horrible?”

Olivia’s sharp mind goes into full debate mode. “There’s nothing wrong with being a slut, Cassandra, if it is someone’s choice to identify as such. The people who do shit like this prefer it to not be that way, so they can use it against people as an exertion of power.”

Cassandra’s eyes go a bit cold, but she remains partial to Olivia’s struggle. Clumsy, but partial. “Is...is that how you want to be treated, by a complete stranger just…invading your privacy? Olivia…” she then stands up and comes over to the couch, sitting a foot away from her. Her knees are parted broadly, but straight. Straight, straight, straight.

“What?” Olivia mumbles back, rubbing her face with her hands. “I’m not going to make this a big deal. Nothing’s happened since. It was probably just someone having a wild thought to do something horrible. That happens every day, right?”

Cassandra’s brows push together. “I’d really prefer if you told someone. For your safety.”

Olivia shakes her head. “My safety? You know what gets me about this? That you likely know who did this...or rub elbows with them. That you probably see them and talk to them in passing on Sunday and yet you think I should alert the authorities because I’m unsafe. What is that supposed to tell me of the company you keep?” She talks a big talk, but she doesn’t look at her. She keeps her gaze on her own lap, and lets the silence take hold. Then, out of nowhere, the confidence she is so tempted by returns in a cool, flat voice:

“Do you honestly think if I had any inkling as to who, I would just sit by and let you fend for yourself like I have no responsibility at all in this?” She’s outraged and foreboding in her temper. God only knows what she looked like when Cullen handed her the paper. Olivia only has the bravery to stare back at her and is humbled by the intensity. “I only hope that...that despite this...”

“What?” Olivia replies softly, but in vain. Cassandra merely sucks on her teeth.

“Do you...” she says after a pause, “regret coming to the Church to see me?” It is a subtly heartbreaking question coming from her.

Olivia rolls around and sits with her knees bunched up again like they were in her chair, with her lower back against the side of the love seat arm rest. “I don’t. Do you regret inviting me?

Cassandra doesn’t waste a moment, before she peers at her, chin raised. “Absolutely not.”

“I do have a regret about how I acted there, though.” Up against a proverbial wall.

Cassandra’s eyes narrow a bit uneven, her head tilted. “What? How so?”

“I...” Suddenly, an impulse bares down on her, and she scoots up onto her folded knees. In a push of inertia she resolves distance between them but stops, sitting at her side, knees against the side of her thigh.

Cassandra’s eyes go wide, but not too wide. Not surprised, but on notice. When Olivia gets that far with no objection she isn’t quite sure what to do. That’s the thing about impulses -- they didn’t come with a manual. But she wings it some more, and starts slowly leaning her face into hers. She reaches a hand and presses her palm gently against Cassandra’s cheek, guiding her to look at her head on as she closes in. She gets so close that when Cassandra’s lips part she can feel the edges of her warm breath. The brightness of the fluorescent office lighting goes dim and fades away, and Olivia’s heart is beating out of her chest. She wants that sign so bad, she wants something -- anything to give her vindication for wanting to hold onto her so closely despite all the writing on the wall telling her they’re mismatched. Cassandra’s lids flutter down, and she is frozen in place like a statue.

Then, a hand. A hand on Olivia’s shoulder, stopping her advance with care. Olivia opens her eyes fully, and looks into hers. Seeing the shade of them, she falls back onto her folded legs.

“Olivia, I...”

“You...you don’t...”

Cassandra’s mouth opens, and she frowns, taking her hand away. “It’s not... It’s...complicated. I can ex--”

“Complicated.”

“...Yes. But...look, I’m not that good with words. But I can explain. I just...I want...” She exhales with tension breaking her tone, her posture stiffening.

It’s no longer just Olivia’s worst nightmare realized. It’s her worst nightmare, having a worst nightmare.

“I...I gotta go.” If she doesn’t get out of that room in a minute she’s going to crawl out of her skin. She slides herself off the couch and walks back to her work, getting to it fast with the clean-up. She tries her best not to care what Cassandra does in the meantime. If she can get out fast, it won’t sink in under her skin, like everything else Her looks, her grin, the smell of Old Spice Wolfthorn she swears is there but can’t ever bring herself to decide.

“Wait.” She glances, and sees that Cassandra stood up, but hasn’t moved from her spot otherwise.

“No. I said I couldn’t stay long. I really...I should have left a bit earlier. I have a thing…”

“You...are you--”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she shoves folders into her bag, zipping everything up with rigor. She slings the backpack on her shoulder and takes her other into her hand, grabbing for the Safeway plastic to dump out on the way. She turns around and stops, her mouth open, but no words. Cassandra has drawn closer, standing only a couple feet away now.

“Liv, I’m sorry.” Liv. She hardly ever uses her nickname. It’s always a polite, slightly formal ‘Olivia,’ even though she has made it clear time and time again ‘Liv’ is perfectly alright. Only now does she use it, and it hurts a bit. She really cares.

Olivia grins crookedly, and it pains her to do so. “No, it’s...it’s fine. I’m not mad.”

Cassandra’s expression says stop lying to me, please, but her mouth says the opposite. It gnaws at her heart. “Do...do you want me to walk you back?”

“I’ll be alright. It’s only a few minutes’ walk. Look, maybe we should, you know, take a breather. From hanging out, I mean. Just for a while. I feel like...like it’s just...” like I don’t know what you want from me.

Cassandra’s eyes narrow, in that sad kind of creasing way, and she frowns. That frown. “No, I understand. It is a busy time of the semester for me, anyway. I won’t be available much, and I don’t think you’ll be, either. Maybe, given what’s happened, it would be best for you.”

“...Yeah.” Olivia could have a whole ledger of things that people had said were ‘best for her’ over the course of her short life. But when Cassandra says it, all she can think is that being distanced from her felt like the antithesis of ‘best.’

There could be more words, but there aren’t. Cassandra nods, her hands together in front of her waist. She’s pressing on the skin above her thumb, on the side of her palm. She does that other times, and Olivia’s seen it. But only now does she see it’s a thing she does when things aren’t going well. She smiles and says thanks and heads out. The whole way her feet feel like bricks are tethered Even when she gets into her dorm, messes with keys and gets herself into her room. Turn back, go back, do it.

After dumping everything on the floor, she takes off her shirt and wipes off her makeup, before jumping on her bed to lay flat on her back. A few minutes of anxious staring up at the popcorn ceiling, and the demand to go back calms down.

Like an old, thoughtless habit already built in her psyche, she checks her phone for a ‘hope you got back safe, have a good night’ kind of message, but there’s nothing. Ironically, she wishes there is. The last messages on their thread are about the song recommendation. Fine, fuck, what could it hurt? What’s it gonna be, something about life lessons?

She pulls up her Spotify and finds her headphones -- a habit that’s foolish since she’s in her room all alone, but after the argument she instinctively clings to privacy. The song starts out with a slight upbeat rhythm, completely benign-sounding. But, then...she really listens, and the chorus hits --

If you're gonna let me down, let me down gently

Don't pretend that you don't want me

Our love ain't water under the bridge...

Nearing the end of the song she had preemptively mocked in her thoughts, her emotions she had done such a great job of suppressing are bursting at the seams. She goes from sprawled to curled in the fetal position in a matter of minutes. It wasn’t a clean escape.

But they are friends. It’s cut and dry. She should have seen this all coming. Girls like Cassandra and girls like her don’t do well together. Nothing about them says “promising,” just…just…

Knock, knock, knock.

“Olivia! You in? How was it?!”

It’s Ellinor. For some reason it only breaks Olivia’s heart more. She drags herself up off her blankets and to the door. Opening it and seeing her friend, in jeans and an old t-shirt, beautifully hardcore as ever, she sees that for all that Ellinor has to glow about, she, herself cannot relate.

“There you are! I want details, woman! And--”

Olivia can’t hold it back any longer. She bursts into tears, holding her phone to her mouth. Her headphones are still in, but the music has stopped playing.

“Shit, what happened?!” Ellinor’s face drops, and she holds her arms out. Olivia only shakes her head and steps into her embrace, pressing her head into her shoulder. Ellinor grabs her phone from her and checks the screen.

“I’m gonna kill her if she--Oh dear God, Adele?! Olivia, what have we discussed about listening to Adele so close to our cycles?!” she says as she holds her.

Olivia cries harder, her voice shrill but muffled into her shirt.”I-I fucked u-up...”

“Okay! Okay,” Ellinor responds quickly, “uh, okay, let’s...let’s finish that ice cream you have, alright?”

#adventures of ellinor and olivia #college au #modern thedas au #ellinor trevelyan #cullen rutherford #cassandra pentaghast #olivia sinclair #modern!olivia #friendship fic!

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bluraaven · 6 years

Text

Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter 3

"What a shithole."

Reynauld put down the bag that contained their collected 'evidence' and followed Guyot's gaze. He wasn't sure if his friend was referring to the condition of the room before or after they'd been through it, or to the motel as a whole. Somehow it was impossible to imagine that it had ever seen better times. It was a shabby place, where electric outings were the norm, and where the rooms were in worse shape than most of the prison cells he had seen.

Through the grimy windows and broken shutters only a little light managed to find its way to illuminate the sad pile that were their meagre findings.

On the upside, the prosecution had sanctioned the raid almost as soon as they could pinpoint a location. On the downside, it was only a partial success. They had some of Dismas' belongings now, but they did not have the man himself. The Chief had wanted a bust, and now all they had to show for it was a duffel bag full of clothes and a few toiletries.

"What do we have here?" Despite her being hidden behind the sofa, there was no mistaking the excitement in Lin's voice. She laughed, then held up a flat object, waving it around triumphantly.

"What's that?" Guyot asked, his eyes narrowing in an attempt to make out what it was their colleague had found.

"A notebook." Lin said, climbing back to her feet with a huge grin.

"Good work!" Reynauld praised with a smile of his own. This had to be the best find yet. Trust the sniper to find something good. "Is that everything?"

"Yes," Lin confirmed. "I was hoping to find a data stick too, or a CD, but no. Only the laptop, and of course it would be hidden in the last place left," she huffed. "So what do we do now?"

So far they had checked under the rug for hidey holes, they'd moved all the furnishings to check the spaces behind them; and finally they had taken apart some of the furniture. There wasn't an inch left that had not had at least two police officers check it for something that might help their case.

"Bag it," Reynauld decided with a nod at the notebook, "And let's wrap this up."

"On it," Lin answered. "I'll tell the others we're all done." She pulled out her radio and disappeared through the doorway. Reynauld nodded absent-mindedly, taking one last look at the room. There was no telling that there had been a squad digging through it. Everything was back in its place, and the room looked exactly as it had when they had arrived – minus any trace of its former occupant.

"Think he'll come back?" Guyot asked quietly.

"He would be stupid if he did," Reynauld responded, not at all alarmed by Guyot's mind-reading abilities. After being friends for as many years as they had been, he had learned to live with Guyot's occasional bouts of clairvoyance. "And we have been told he's anything but."

There was no point in waiting around. Reynauld closed the door, and made for the staircase. They would discreetly station a few police officers here, but Dismas had proven himself to be good enough at evading the authorities that there was not much hope of him returning to this place after their less-than-subtle approach.

"I guess the Chief makes mistakes too," Guyot dared to speak up when they were halfway down to the lobby.

"It wouldn't have hurt him to listen to me," Reynauld growled. He refrained from hitting the rail, because it might actually come undone and kill someone on the ground floor. Which would mean even more work for him. "We could have had Paixdecoeur behind bars by now! Why put me in charge if he was going to- ," he paused and made a vague motion in the air with his hand, "fuck it all up anyway." Reynauld's shoulders slumped, most of the anger gone now.

He had opposed the raid from the start. If he'd had a choice, Reynauld would have dealt with the matter the exact same way they did most undercover work. Take the time to prepare and to verify their target was here. And then strike before they guy knew what hit him.

"Hey," Guyot said, giving Reynauld's shoulder a pat. "We'll get him. He can't run forever."

Unless he had another hideout somewhere. The one thing they had not found was money. That meant that Dismas was not only smart enough not to trust the cleaning staff, it also meant he may have prepared for this very case. If he packed up and left the country, they had no chance of picking up the trail.

"Meanwhile," Guyot lifted the bag that contained the notebook Lin had found, "What do you think we'll find?" he asked with a grin and a waggle of his eyebrows.

"I'll let you find out," Reynauld sighed.

Back at the station, Dismas' clothing was searched for weapons or illegal substances, of which neither was found. It was merely old and worn, but not making him guilty of any crime other than a bad sense of fashion. Forensics identified Dismas' toiletries as soap and toothpaste – the latter being Wintry Spearmint by Dentacare, as one of Paracelsus' lab assistants was happy to inform Reynauld before asking if he wanted a spit sample (they'd already ran an unauthorized DNA test for reasons unbeknownst to any mortal).

Reynauld thanked him, declined the kind offer, and then backed out of the office without dropping eye contact until he was safe behind the doorsill.

From there on it was back to his office via a detour by the coffee machine, and then on to where Guyot was sitting bent over the notebook. An old, scratched animal rights sticker that Reynauld had not noticed before indicated that the computer may not always have belonged to Dismas.

"What have you found so far?" he asked, leaning against the desk.

Guyot cast him a dark look, and Reynauld found his spirits lifting marginally. There was nothing quite as good at improving one's mood as putting someone else in a bad one.

"A lot of steamy guy on guy action," Guyot replied, "and I have to look through every goddamn file, just in case there's something hidden there."

Reynauld hummed and took a sip of his coffee. "Have fun."

"Ain't that more up your alley?" Guyot snapped, so Reynauld flipped him off, and left him to his work.

It was a couple of hours later when Reynauld decided to make another round to see what progress had been made. The sun was rising, streaking the black sky with ribbons of orange and pink, but except for those who had been on the raid or worked the night shift the bureau was still mostly deserted.

That excluded forensics and IT of course, but the current belief was those guys never slept anyway.

Lin, Ros and Stanley handed in their reports, and this time, instead of giving his attitude, Guyot looked at Reynauld with the woeful eyes of a suffering puppy. So Reynauld took pity and grabbed an empty seat, deciding to keep his friend some company.

"Anything new?"

"Who even names their porn folder 'PORN'?" Guyot complained, but apparently he had found nothing incriminating.

Reynauld shrugged and looked at the screen where two guys were having a quick tumble in the shower. And by quick he meant quick, because the video was playing at triple speed, which made it rather amusing to watch.

Guyot told him about his plans to move together with Lucy, his girlfriend of two years, and Reynauld listened, making the appropriate noises at the appropriate time, and stealing a discreet look at the screen every now and then.

Secretly – because he would die if that thought was ever spoken aloud – he had to admit that Dismas didn't have the worst taste in erotica. At least all the couples seemed to be genuinely enjoying what they were doing.

Eventually, Guyot sighed and rubbed his temples, and then hit the pause button. He snorted at the frozen image of one of the actor's private area and slapped the laptop shut.

Reynauld just hoped that sometime before he had made sure that it was not password protected, or they'd have to take it to IT.

They decided to grab a coffee, even though it was a terrible idea because night shift was almost over, and Reynauld rather looked forward to going home and falling into bed face-first.

As it turned out, they were not the first ones to arrive at the kitchen.

"Hey, Lin," Guyot said, waiting until she ha d refilled the coffee machine before brewing a cup for Reynauld and for himself. "What's up, Para?"

Paracelsus worked in forensics, and was officially forbidden to come within thirty feet of the kitchen without a police officer accompanying her. There had been one too many cases of someone taking a spontaneous nap after having a cup of coffee, and it had taken the entire PD and a restraint order to convince her to keep her experiments to the inmates.

The doctor with her white lab coat always looked a bit out of place. She had a slight hunch and large eyes, amplified by her glasses which gave her the appearance of a giant bird.

Reynauld was happy to sit down on the worn but comfy couch and to sip his coffee. It tasted burned. He waved off Para's offer of yellow and blue pills ("harmless stimulants, I swear!") and zoned out, letting Guyot and Lin do most of the talking.

"Hey doc, that girlfriend of yours isn't she – " Lin asked suddenly, and Reynauld realized he had long since stopped following the conversation.

"A critically acclaimed archaeology professor?" Para interrupted, wringing her hands. "Yes! Yes, she is."

"Is that a mugshot?" Guyot asked, stretching to see something Paracelsus was holding, and while doing so he jostled Reynauld, who only narrowly avoided spilling his coffee into his lap. It had grown cold, and he put the practically full mug away.

"No!" Para squealed, pulling away her precious photograph from curious hands and prying eyes. "It's a driver's licence picture."

"Okay," Guyot laughed. "Easy there, doc. Ain't my business whom you date."

"What time is it?" Lin yawned.

"Two minutes past five," Para answered, after checking a silver wristwatch. Reynauld had never seen her wear one before, but then maybe it had been hidden by the floppy lab coat.

"One more hour," Guyot moaned. "Someone shoot me please. No thanks, Para."

"It's just something to induce a harmless coma-like state that is perfectly revertible with a shot of –," Paracelsus broke off as no one was listening to her anyway and pocketed the tiny and innocent-looking pink pill with obvious disappointment.

Most the hour passed in a stupor that ended abruptly when they received a paged message from downstairs that the first officers of the day shift had arrived, Mallory amongst them. That gave them roughly a minute and a half to clear out the area, remove the evidence of any coffee breaks, and to return to their desks.

Guyot fell into his chair with a groan, and opened Dismas' notebook with an expression of intense pain upon his face. It had just booted, when–

"Special agent Reynauld," A voice from behind them called out. Reynauld and Guyot both turned to see Mallory approach – at least until she stopped dead in her tracks. "... is that a penis!?" Mallory's voice rose high enough that even Ros and Marci stuck their heads out of their cubicles, a curious look on their faces.

"It's part of the investigation," Reynauld managed to force out, while next to him Guyot turned a shade that made his freckles indistinguishable from his skin. At least the sound was off.

Mallory shook her head, and left, muttering something under her breath.

"Sometimes I hate my life," Guyot mumbled. He still looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. Reynauld snorted and leaned back, kicking up his feet to rest on the corner of the desk. He checked the watch. Twenty more minutes.

But then all thoughts of going home were driven from his mind when next to him Guyot shot upright.

"I found something!" Guyot shouted and tapped the screen. "There's a text file in here, I knew it!"

Reynauld too sat more upright, feeling awake all of a sudden. Would they really find something? Contacts, numbers, maybe a location? Something to link Paixdecoeur to the Grave Robber, or something to prove he had worked for the Wolf? Information on El Abuelo, even?

The file took an insultingly long amount of time to load. Guyot was drumming his fingers on the table, but stopped when a white document opened. Black on white, in a neat cursive script, there appeared four lines of text:

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Feds are pigs–

Joke's on you.

Reynauld had one look at Guyot's flabbergast face, and he managed to hold on to his composure for all of three seconds before he burst out laughing.

"Charming," Guyot said flatly and threw a pen at Reynauld that harmlessly bounced off his chest. "This isn't funny, you know?" But, as if to belie his words, he too was cracking up. "What an arsehole," he hiccupped, "what a complete and utter dickbiscuit."

"Do you want to report your findings to the Chief?" Reynauld asked once the first fit had subsided, triggering another salve of laughter.

"You do realize we have zero proof of... anything," Guyot asked a moment later, putting a dampener on their newfound good mood.

"But we do know Paixdecoeur is a wanted man in the North," Reynauld reasoned. "Even if we don't find anything else, there are arrest warrants for him in five City-States, and that's only the ones we know about because they are cooperating with us."

"Then this was utterly pointless anyway," Guyot decided, stood up and stretched. He worked the kinks out of his back, muttering, "I'm sending this in. Maybe there's hidden files or what the fuck ever. I hope they're full of dicks too."

Reynauld had to grin at the temper tantrum. "They're IT, they've seen weirder shit."

Guyot hmphed. His finger was already hovering over the notebook's on-off button, when the machine made a plopping sound and a little blinking window alerted them they had just received a new message.

Guyot looked at Reynauld with his best 'what did I just do?' face.

Reynauld raised a brow. "Aren't you going to check that?"

"Looks like a certain 'Sweetheart' has cancelled his or her appointment with our guy," Guyot said a moment later and turned the laptop so that Reynauld could see for himself.

Hey... so something came up and I'm afraid I can't make it to Jubie's tonight. Pls don't be mad?

Love ya, xoxo

"Tonight," Reynauld said, giving Guyot a pointed look.

"Come on, you don't mean to – " his friend began, then shook his head. "Of course you do. Does 'Jubie's' even ring a bell?"

"Yeah," Reynauld replied, surprising himself and Guyot, both. He shrugged, but the name did sound familiar. "Open the chat log," he commanded.

Guyot pulled up the log for the past couple of years and once it had loaded, he scrolled up a bit. They found a blurry but recent picture that looked like it had been taken on a phone, by a very drunk person. Despite its poor quality, it was unmistakably their guy in the parking lot of what Reynauld guessed to be a bar. Unfortunately, the neon lights in the back were too unfocused to make out what they said.

Reynauld suddenly felt wide awake. "Go through everything," he instructed his friend, tapping the laptop with his index finger. "I will tell the others to get searching, now."

It may be by accident, but they were on to something. He could feel it.

"Everything?" Guyot repeated with audible reluctance.

Reynauld nodded, and left him to gather the rest of the team for a briefing. A while later Guyot found him in his office, pacing.

"Rey. Marci's got something. Jubert's Taphouse."

Of course there was a chance that it wasn't the right place, or that the message was a code for something else, but it was their only solid lead. They had to follow it.

"What about the notebook? Reynauld wanted to know, recalling that his friend had a task to perform.

"I gave it to Ros," Guyot replied, waving the matter away.

"Excellent." Reynauld grabbed the keys to his locker out of his desk drawer. "Let's go."

"You want to go there?" Guyot asked. "Now?" He looked at the clock. "It's seven. My shift's been over for an hour."

Reynauld gave him a pat on the back, which they both agreed was better than a boot in the arse, and they jogged downstairs to change into their normal day clothes. This morning's trouble meant that they did not have to borrow an unmarked car, they could just take Reynauld's.

Jubert's taphouse was not easy to find. It was a squat one-story pub sitting between much larger and more modern buildings. Fifth Square was just one street in the labyrinth that was the old industrial district. Except for some breweries and the one or other atelier most of the factories had shut down. Now expensive loft apartments could be encountered right next to brick and glass warehouses which had been turned into clubs.

Barques were dropping people off at the nearby pier, and restaurants were popping up left and right. Everywhere advertisements reminded you that the huge empty halls could be rented for a party.

Amidst all that, Jubert's taphouse seemed to be stuck in the last century – if one could look past the electric lighting. Reynauld looked over at the passenger seat, where Guyot was watching the establishment with his chin propped up in his hand.

"Shall we?"

Behind the counter, a bored looking woman with too much eye makeup barely made the effort of lifting her painted eyelids when they entered.

"Where's the – ?" Reynauld did not get any further before she pointed down the corridor. He nodded and followed in the direction her neon orange nail pointed. The pretext of having to use the restroom gave him the opportunity to get somewhat familiar with the layout of the bar. The kitchen area was closed off, as was a back entrance into a high-walled courtyard. If he had to guess, Reynauld would say it hid an illegal fighting ring. But that wasn't why they were here.

He only had a few minutes before he had to make his way back. The waitress was nowhere to be seen, and Guyot was waiting for him back at the car. He remembered why the name of the bar was familiar. Not a year ago they had taken down a drug ring just two streets further.

"Here," Guyot handed Reynauld the pack of cigs he had apparently just purchased and effectively ripped him out of his thoughts.

Reynauld stared at the small package that landed in his lap. "I quit."

"Yeah, well." Guyot shrugged. "I never started, so keep them." A moment of silence, then, "You're thinking."

"Hm?"

"You got your thinkin' face on," Guyot remarked snickered, and then added, "and nothing good's ever come of that."

"Thanks," Reynauld replied drily, but decided to share his thoughts with his best friend and partner. "You won't like it," he decided.

"The last time you said that we were in a stolen tank in Tipolis."

"Heh." Reynauld had to chuckle. He might grow old and forget where he lived or what his name was, but he knew Guyot would never let him forget that. "It wasn't so bad."

"They were firing mortars at us!" Guyot recalled.

"Look," Reynauld interrupted the tirade that he knew was coming. "We don't know much about Paixdecoeur, but we've seen enough to be sure of one thing: he likes men, and uniforms. And... I still got some of my old army stuff."

"You're right," Guyot replied. "I don't like this." A pause, then, "Has it occurred to you that he might have downloaded this stuff just to mess with us? That poem was no coincidence."

"No, I am utterly naive and it's never crossed my mind," Reynauld retorted. He thought it was highly unlikely their guy had gone through all the bother of actually picking thematically matching videos just to potentially prank some law enforcement officer.

"But... why?" Guyot asked. "Why not just... stick to the plan?"

"We don't have a plan," Reynauld reminded him.

"If that Dismas guy is there, we can arrest him straightaway," Guyot suggested.

"I don't want to find out how many of those patrons own illegal weapons," Reynauld countered, "Do you?"

He knew by the defeated sigh that he had just won the argument. "If I can get him out without raising suspicion, I will do that. If it doesn't work, we do it the hard way."

"So, what? You just walk up to the guy and chat him up?"

Reynauld shrugged. "That's usually how it goes, yeah."

"Fine!" Guyot threw up his arms in surrender. "Just tell me this; how do you plan to convince the Chief?"

"I... don't," Reynauld answered after a moment's consideration. "I'll ask Mallory"

"Good fucking luck."

"Thank you," Reynauld said. And just because it seemed necessary to point it out, "You're coming with me."

Guyot's contribution to that conversation that happened twenty minutes later, was to furiously wave his arms every time Reynauld had said 'we', whilst pointing his thumb at Reynauld, who could actually see his every move out of the corner of his eyes.

"Did I understand you correctly," Mallory clarified after Reynauld had finished describing their plan. "That you are asking me for permission to seduce your target?"

AN: you cann find the whole story here

#blu's corner #fanfiction #writing #darkest dungeon #dismas #reynauld #Reymas

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365daysofj2 · 7 years

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Computer Problems Really Byte (College AU)

It’s 10:56 pm and Jared’s helpdesk shift ends in four minutes, so of course, that’s when the hottest guy Jared’s even seen bursts through the door in a panic. “You gotta help me,” says the guy, his plump pink lips turned down in a frown. “I just lost three days’ worth of work. I gotta get it back.” Jared reaches for the guy’s laptop. “Okay, I’ll do my best.” He opens the laptop and wakes it up. “Were you using Word?” The guy shakes his head. “No, Scrivener.” Jared blinks. “Uh, okay, that’s a new one.” He sets the laptop down on the desk and pulls up a new Chrome tab on his desk computer. “Give me a minute.” Jared does some quick searching through the troubleshooting tips on the Scrivener website and finds a place to start. “It looks like Scrivener auto-saves files every couple of minutes, so we just need to find the last file saved before you lost the paper. Are you saving it on Dropbox or locally?” “Yeah, Dropbox.” The guy clenches one fist in nervous frustration. Jared turns the laptop around. “Go ahead and sign into Dropbox on the website.” The guy looks perplexed, but does as Jared asks. Jared turns the screen back to himself. “Okay, I’m gonna see if I can find the last file saved to this folder.” There’s a shit-ton of files to comb through, but eventually Jared finds one stamped “today, 10:34 pm.” He opens it up to reveal a paper titled, “Truth, Justice, and the American Zeitgeist: Examining Superhero Origin Stories as Reflections of American Culture.” Jared has to bite back a grin. That seems like an awesome paper topic. He turns the screen back toward its owner. “Is that your paper?” “Oh, thank God!” The guy scrolls through the paper. “The last few paragraphs are missing, but I can rewrite those.” He looks up at Jared, green eyes sparkling with relief and joy. “You are a fucking lifesaver. I totally owe you one.” Jared gazes at the pink Cupid’s-bow mouth, the freckled cheeks and nose, the chiseled jawline speckled with auburn stubble, and the green eyes edged with the longest eyelashes Jared’s ever seen on a guy, and decides to try his luck. “How about dinner tomorrow?” The guy blinks a few times, but then his lips slowly stretch into a smile. “Yeah, I could do that.” He grabs a pen and sticky note from the desk and writes down a phone number. “I’m in Adelman Hall East. Text me and I’ll meet you at the door.” Jared accepts the note. “What name should I put you under?” “Jensen,” says the guy. “Jensen Ackles.” Jared takes the pen from him and writes that down. “I’m Jared,” he replies. Jensen points at the chalkboard schedule. “Yeah, I figured.” He closes his laptop and smiles a perfect toothpaste-ad smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jared.” “Yeah, see you later, Jensen.” Jared follows Jensen to the door and flips the sign from “Open” to “Closed.” Then he locks the door. Jensen turns and waves, so Jared waves back before closing the blinds. Best night shift ever.

#j2 au #j2 fanfic #j2 #365daysofj2 #college au

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approachingmindfulnessblog · 7 years

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Day 7 - Planning My First Steps into Minimal Living

Meet Riley, my motivational succulent! I said I wouldn’t buy clothes, I never said I wouldn’t spend $5 on a plant! I suppose you could argue that this is proof I’m still and irresponsible spender caught in the grips of consumerism, but I don’t think so. I’ve saved a lot of money these last few weeks by not allowing myself to buy, and after saying for such a long time that I wanted to buy some succulents and never actually doing it, it felt good to pick out my new friend while I was shopping for pizza ingredients. Not to mention, she’s good for me! Studies have shown that being around plants can lower your stress level, and when I lose track of what I’m writing on the blog I like looking at her for a moment to refocus. I named her after my roommate in Guatemala, who inspired me during the trip and was the first to comment on my new plant!

Since I’ve committed to Minimalism without really spending any time at home, or being around my stuff, I’ve been trying to brainstorm things I can do as an initial purge of my belongings when I get back, whether that’s in a couple days or a couple weeks.

empty the cabinets in the bathroom. separate them into things that are used on a regular basis, like toothpaste and cosmetics you incorporate in your daily look; things you’re saving for something specific (i.e. empty Lush pots that are being saved to be turned in and recycled in exchange for a face mask); and things that are just taking up space, like samples from Sephora two years ago that you saved for no apparent reason, seeing as they’ve never been touched. sell, give away or toss anything that is just taking up space. clean the inside of the cabinets, and then clean the items themselves. put them back in the cabinet in an organized fashion. consider investing in an organization system to keep them tidy, but buy nothing yet. will your reused jars work instead? bequeath tampons and pads to mom & sis, and invest in a menstrual cup instead.

empty desk drawers one at a time. anything that hasn’t been used in a year, should be tossed. things that have been kept for sentimental value but are never actually looked at, should be tossed. old paychecks should be tossed. see if instruction manuals can be found online, then toss physical copies. take a picture of prescription information, then toss unimportant papers. figure out what is and isn’t working about your current organization system. consider updating it. Buy nothing yet. replace items that you actually use or care about.

go through bookshelves and remove any book you did not enjoy or know you will never read again. reorganize remaining books. sell unwanted books to a local used bookstore.

purge jewelry box. anything that you don’t wear or love, sell or gift. throw away broken pieces. return remaining pieces to box. consider a new organization system, but buy nothing yet.

clean out closet shelves. if you’re not using it, ditch it. if you feel the urge to keep something you’re not using, ask yourself why. consider what value the item brings to your life. donate blankets that have been sitting at the top of your closet for at least a year. if something has been broken and not fixed, give yourself 30 days to mend it, and if it is still unaddressed, toss it.

go through your wardrobe. any clothes that you dislike or know you haven’t warn in the last year, sell or donate. any clothes that are too small, or uncomfortable, sell or donate. set aside clothes you need for work, and your go to pieces. with the remaining, in between clothes, ask yourself what you like and dislike about each piece. if the dislikes outweigh the likes, consider getting rid of it. monitor the remaining pieces over the next two months and see what you reach for. get rid of items you ignore. consider what holes might have been left in your wardrobe by your purging, or what might be more comfortable or functional than what you currently have. buy nothing yet.

collect loose change taking up space. take it to the bank.

go through drawer of memories and keepsakes. scan anything important to you. toss everything unless it has importance (i.e., legal). consider a different organization system. buy nothing yet.

recycle all junk mail from colleges you’re uninterested in. read remaining mail and get rid of anything that doesn’t hold importance. consider new organization system. buy nothing.

go through knickknacks. Ii you don’t love it, get rid of it.

go through shoes. if you haven’t worn them in a year, sell them. if you don’t like them or they no longer ‘feel like you’, sell them. consider what sort of shoes might go better with your new style and hold up better, but buy nothing yet.

go through underwear drawer. throw away all uncomfortable or dysfunctional underwear.

go through art supplies drawer. give away all art supplies that are going unused.

get rid of all the junk in the junk drawer. all of it. get rid of any unused items in the electronics drawer, and any cords that you don’t know the purpose of, if they have not been used in over a year.

delete any photos you don’t care about from your Dropbox.

delete irrelevant files from computer.

unsubscribe from unnecessary emails.

take extra pillows off the bed. removing and replacing them is a waste of your time.

delete old text conversations and emails that are no longer important.

Look around at the now far emptier room, and breathe. Feel how much stress is eliminated by eliminating clutter.

(While the phrase “buy nothing yet” did get tiresome to type out after a while, I’m trying to make an important point to myself. I can challenge myself to think of more effective ways to organize the stuff I decide to keep, but that doesn’t mean I need to run out and buy new stuff right away. Anything that’s worth buying, is worth waiting for, so I can see whether simply getting rid of some crap is enough to make an area more organized, or whether it would make sense for me to organize in say, dividers for my drawers, a file folder for important documents or little shelves for my makeup.)

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fantasyfestinkeywestflorida · 3 years

Photo

As promised, here is my 2021 Fantasy Fest suggested list of items to consider for your Key West adventure. Feel free to add your own items and modify this list with suggestions:

I created this checklist for those Krewe that go with me on my annual Group Trips to both Hedonism resort in Jamaica and Fantasy Fest also.

So, with 7 days to go for Fantasy Fest 2021 (October 22-31), please feel free to adapt and modify this list to meet your needs and criteria for your Fantasy Fest trip.

This changeable checklist of travel suggestions allows you to cherry pick travel items for trips to Fantasy Fest or similar destinations or venues:

AIRPORT & AIRPORT TRANSFERS: Passport and copies of passport facepages in luggage) Covid vaccination card and/or negative Covid test results Airline ticket/confirmation number papers & itineraries Airport transfer papers Clothes for flights (bras, underwear, closed-toe shoes) Luggage with name tags, luggage locks and passport copies inside Luggage lined with empty trash bags that can later be used for dirty clothes, makeshift rain ponchos, covers for beach/pool bags in the rains Snacks, Clif and protein bars Empty water bottle Anti-bacterial/virus wipes packages Black ink pen for completing customs/immigration on the plane and/or airport terminal

OFF-PROPERTY EXCURSIONS: Foldable pocket rain poncho/mini-umbrella Shoes, socks, shorts, tank top/t-shirt Tip & souvenir cash Backpack, collapsible tote bag Drink bottle with lid

Obviously, not everyone would need all of these items but it is a start for picking and choosing those things you might want to have at Fantasy Fest. .

Safe travels to you!

CougarMilfAnnie

Be sure to check out more of my daily Fantasy Fest photos and videos here:

http://www.flickr.com/groups/fantasyfesters (45,000+ photos)

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Incredible fun in and out of costumes and clothes, and with the fun times only a Krewe de Krazy Life group can create.

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fantasyfestinkeywestflorida · 6 years

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As promised, here is my 2018 Fantasy Fest suggested list of items to consider for your Key West adventure. Feel free to add your own items and modify this list with suggestions:

I want to share with all Krewe de Krazy Life members and others going to Key West for Fantasy Fest my updated travel checklist that might make their packing easier.

I created this checklist for those Krewe that go with me on our annual June Group Trip to Hedonism resort in Jamaica. While some items are specific to Hedo, most are useful or necessary for Fantasy Fest also.

So, with a little more about 25 days to go for Fantasy Fest 2018 (October 19-28), please feel free to adapt and modify this list to meet your needs and criteria for your Fantasy Fest trip.

This changeable checklist of travel suggestions allows you to cherry pick travel items for trips to Fantasy Fest or similar destinations or venues:

AIRPORT & AIRPORT TRANSFERS: Passport and copies of passport facepages in luggage) Airline ticket/confirmation number papers & itineraries Airport transfer papers Clothes for flights (bras, underwear, closed-toe shoes) Luggage with name tags, luggage locks and passport copies inside Luggage lined with empty trash bags that can later be used for dirty clothes, makeshift rain ponchos, covers for beach/pool bags in the rains Snacks, Clif and protein bars Empty water bottle Anti-bacterial wipes packages Black ink pen for completing customs/immigration on the plane and/or airport terminal

PERSONAL ITEMS: Prescription glasses Small bills ($1, $5, $10 for misc. purchases, misc. tips) Credit card(s) Purse and/or wallet Jewelry (costume preferred) Watch Emergency contact phone numbers and info sheet Vitamins Hospitality items Pen, notepad Mini-flashlight for bedside Ipod & earbuds Pain relievers (Advil/Tylenol) Stomach ache/medicine (Pepto-Bismol, Immodium, etc) Kindle and/or books Prescription medications in original containers with copies of actual prescriptions Beaded name necklace Business cards

POOL & BEACH AREAS: Hats Sunglasses (and a second pair in case of misplaced/lost problems) Sunblock 15/30/70 Chapstick/lip balm Beach/Pool bag Special towels Coverups Flip flops/sandals Water shoes/aquasocks Water bottle/insulated & refillable drink mug Wristlet for room key Empty garbage bag (in case of rain to put all items into for walk back to room) Optional: Mask/snorkel for any boat trips to the Key West area reefs

OFF-PROPERTY EXCURSIONS: Foldable pocket rain poncho/mini-umbrella Shoes, socks, shorts, tank top/t-shirt Tip & souvenir cash Backpack, collapsible tote bag Drink bottle with lid

Finally, Check with the airlines the amount (weight) of baggage LEAVING Key West. There was a restriction on departing flights, not those arriving. Many veteran FF attendees ship their costumes and "gear" to the place they are staying, or to a package holding business. (e.g. Mail Boxes, UPS store, etc.) Check with where you are staying as most will accept incoming packages for arriving guests.

Obviously, not everyone would need all of these items but it is a start for picking and choosing those things you might want to have at Fantasy Fest. .

Safe travels to you!

Ann, The TravelSlut Email: [email protected]

Be sure to check out more of my daily Fantasy Fest photos and videos here:

http://www.flickr.com/groups/fantasyfesters http://twitter.com/TheTravelSlut http://www.youtube.com/user/TheTravelSlut/videos http://www.facebook.com/groups/11505539033/

And for those of you that will miss FF 2018 or know you will miss FF 2019, don't forget that the Krewe de Krazy Life group celebrates "Fantasy Fest Caribbean Style" in Negril, Jamaica every June (since 2005 and 2019 is June 15-22) for more fun in the sun and special delights at night that can only be found at the wickedly-wild, nude/clothing-optional, tropical/beachfront and all-inclusive Hedonism II resort.

Plus, again this year, our group is open to all adult singles and couples who want the lowest group rates, incredible fun in and out of costumes and clothes, and with the fun times only a Krewe de Krazy Life group can create.

Email for more details: [email protected]

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