#for the record the beans on the socks were a last minute decision but i think theyre sooooo cute on him

[wyrmswyrds]

theyre MARRIED ur honor,

[theeyesinthenight]

College Tips for Neurodivergence and Chronic Illness

Hey Everyone!I just wanted to talk for a minute about the stuff that I do to make college slightly easier to get through, and ask around for if anyone else has any advice.

Physically going to class:

1. Physical Calmness: Make a small physical maintenance travel bag that you carry with you EVERYWHERE. Include things like moisturizer, chapstick, cough drops/sucking candy, nail clippers, hair ties, eye drops, pain relief meds, sunglasses- anything that you frequently need to maintain you and your body’s ability to be calm. Sensory overload frequently becomes a thing on campus, and frequently overstimming on campus can make it really hard to want to go to class every day. I carry 6 ponytails, 2 chapstick, 4 advil, 4 sucking candies, 2 tampons, emergency ear plugs and earphones, gloves, moisturizer and sunglasses every day and I swear they make the difference between wanting to run crying out of my classroom and being able to hold on some days.

2. Make Checklists: Especially if you deal with executive function issues (like me!) you can build checklists for every day, repetitive tasks as well as normal to-dos to help you manage everything at once without forgetting anything. Don’t feel obliged to make the list pretty or perfect, just keep adding and refining the lists as you notice stuff you’ve forgotten or usually do. Write lists for literally everything. There is no shame to writing everything down. That being said, if you end up scheduling your days, always leave yourself an hour or two a day and like 10-15 minutes before crucial junctures so you aren’t stressed about running late and can actually unwind sometimes.

3. Eat: Some people will have meal plans, some will cook at home and bring stuff to school, but it’s absolutely fucking critical to chemical homeostasis (especially if you do what I do and wind up in class from like 10 am to 7 pm) to plan when and what you’ll eat- either by scheduling adequate meal breaks to go buy it, or packing it ahead of time. This is when lists can help: I remember to pack my lunch and snacks every morning or prep food for consumption when I get home only because I leave it on sticky notes on my phone when I go to sleep.  Just drinking coffee nearly made me have an anxiety related melt down my freshman year before I realized that the constant feelings of a racing heart were only partially because of anxiety and were also because of the sheer amount of caffeine in my system. Eating healthy is also important, and will make you feel even better than just eating, but now is not the time to put yourself on a starvation diet just to lose 10 lbs. Eating high protein has helped some of my snacky issues as well as generally gives me more energy, and making my own mealprep at home- even my own muffins and cookies- generally are more healthy for my than what I get in the store. Fruit, cheese, lunch meat (or sliced cooked meat) and pickles or olives in endless combination work great for me as mindless snacky food, as does homemade popcorn (either in a skillet or costco bags) because it’s dirt cheap and you can put anything from seasoning salt to furikake and shredded dried pork on it. If you need help figuring out recipes, feel free to pm me! I’m good at working with nutritional and budgetary restraints. Pancakes are kind of a universal good.

4. Give yourself permission to leave: If you’re triggered, or seconds away from panic, GET UP AND LEAVE. College classes are not the same as high school classes, and most teachers are perfectly fine with you getting up to get water, or go to the bathroom, or cry in the bathroom. Try to make sure you go back to class most of the time, but if you’re really that stressed, also give yourself permission to leave. 

5. Find a backup note system: There will be days that you cannot go to class. Accept this. Therefore, it is critical to find a way to make sure you always get the notes. Some colleges offer note taking assistance, some allow you to audio record lectures (check 1 and 2 party consent states first), and some leave you to your own devices, in which case, make a casual buddy to get notes from. You do not need to be besties with this person, Try to make sure you know how many days you actually have to go, and minimize grade damage when you can’t.

6. GET ENOUGH SLEEP. I cannot emphasize this enough; whether or not you’re taking medication, getting enough sleep is critical to pretty much everything that might be going on in your head- hormone issues, depression, autism, whatever. Your brain is going to be stressed out by the new environment and the additional, new problem solving that it has to do; help it make its best decisions. I literally wake up on less than 7 hours of sleep and consider selling my siblings on the black market. Don’t do it. 

7. Be careful about Caffeine; Some people are more or less sensitive to caffeine, or forms of caffeine, don’t develop a coffee addiction just because it’s in vogue. Matcha seems to have the most stabilizing caffeine affect on my brain of all the caffeine options, though tea still works universally better than coffee.  I also make my own “lattes” and cold brew at the beginning of the week and keep them in my fridge; a 2oz jar of matcha powder may cost like 60$ but it will make me about 90 cups of tea and last me two semesters especially if I mix in other kinds of cheaper teas in my morning; it’s certainly cheaper than starbucks- cups of latte come out to 95c and have about a third of the calories (which means I can drink more of them!) Which ties into;

8. Budgetting. You might be stressed out about money or make tons of tables and charts to try to deal with that stress; there are a lot of ways to cope with it, but my favorite method (and I still use a combination of these) for dealing with food and consumable stuff you need regularly like shampoo and soap or socks are: separate that money from everything else that you need to buy, then at the beginning of a semester 

Go to Costco, a particular kind of “exotic” grocery store, or a farmers market. Buy and then freeze meat, vegetables, and fruit (if you use them in baked goods or in yogurt) or get prefrozen meat- make sure you’re checking the price/lb or K for the cheapest, and bags of either rice, flour, boxes of pasta (cheap carbs) and oil- i recommend having canola, it’s utilitarian for frying with a high flash point. If your budget isn’t tiny, this is a great time to also get dried (or canned but I don’t like the texture) beans, and canned meat or sauce if you actually eat it. The key is to get cheap bulk things that will last for a semester or five, and that are always on hand.

Take the rest of your food budget out in cash. Separate it into bundles for “each week”, put them in your wallet, and return the change to the jar when you’re done. It was always easier for me to visualize how much spending money for food that I had when I physically had the cash; it meant I didn’t overspend and it also meant that I started making better “investment” decisions; I’d buy cinnamon sticks one week, or good olive oil the next, instead of dropping a couple hundred dollars on ingredients I might have never used.

Do a similar bulk buy of products you know you use, and then leave the rest of that money- also in cash!- in a separate jar with a stickynote on top. When you have to use money for stuff from it, just stuff the receipt in the jar with the cash and do your accounting When You Have Brainspace.

I deal with other bigger accounting stuff over cards, but I try to limit one card to rent, insurance, school payments, big regular stuff that I autopay and always pay off, and one card to “emergency” stuff that I’m always working on paying off- think emergency dental work, car broke, etc. That one I do gig labor to cover when I can.

Anyone else, feel free to chime in! It’s super useful to have lists of tips and tricks!

[homesteak]

pepsicola

sfw johndave fic my friend gave me for christmas!

mid 1900s catholic school au

word count: 3306

John’s room was on the top floor, and he had no family with him to help carry his luggage.  His single suitcase was heavy, and the buckles were threatening to pop open.  He dragged up the narrow, stuffy stairwell until he came to the last door.

He heaved it open and trudged down the hallway, his suitcase banging against the backs of his legs.  His room was at the very end of the hallway on the right.  The door was ajar, and some kind of rock music was playing from the room.  John couldn’t put his finger on it.  It was honest and sexy, something he knew someone’s parents would disapprove of.

The left side of the room had already been claimed.  A suitcase was open in the floor, half of its contents strewn about the room.  A David Bowie poster had been tacked crookedly to the wall.  A raggedy pair of red Chucks that were definitely not up to the uniform standard sat at the foot of the bed.

A wispy pillar of smoke puffed from the bed.  John’s alleged roommate was draped across it.  His socked feet were crossed at the ankles.  A cigarette dangled from his fingers.  Most of it had burned away instead of being inhaled.

John scrambled into the room.  He dropped his suitcase, yanked the door shut behind him, and hurried over to throw the window open.  “Isn’t that against the rules?”

His roommate leisurely rose to a sitting position and flicked the ashes from his cigarette.  “I can’t believe you blew your first impression in such a short amount of time.”

John blinked at his candor.  Part of him was relieved--they could both skip the awkward politeness now and get it all out in the open.  But upon getting a full view of his roommate, John knew it was going to be much more complicated than that.

His untucked shirt and slacks tailored his slim, fit frame just about perfectly.  His hair was smooth and blond, with a few rebellious strands falling against his forehead.  His lips were round and pink enough to make John jealous of the cigarette.  A pair of sunglasses hid his eyes, but not the smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks.

He leaned over and turned the volume down on his record.  John couldn’t see his eyes, but he got the crawling feeling his roommate was looking him up and down.  He was already prickling, but now heat was blooming across his face.

“I’m Dave.”  He put out his cigarette on his bed frame.

“I’m--I’m John,” John stammered.  He quickly turned away and tried to busy himself with his luggage.  He lugged it over and heaved it onto his naked mattress.

“Are you sure?” Dave asked.  “I think you might be lying.”

“No.”  John tried to focus on finding a drawer for his socks instead of the way Dave’s voice sounded or how his face was burning up.  “I’m pretty sure my name is John.”

He heard Dave flop back down onto his bed.  “You sure you aren’t, maybe, Steve or someone?  You kinda look like a Steve.”

John peeked over his shoulder.  “I do?”  From this angle, he could see that Dave’s eyes were closed.  He tried not to linger on them.

“Yeah.”  He hummed to his music for a bit.

John turned back to his belongings just as Dave started to turn over onto his side.

“Say, what grade are you in?  I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

John examined his wardrobe on the opposite side of his room. “I’m a, uh, senior.  This is my first year here.”  He started hanging his clothes, painfully aware that Dave was eyeing him.

“What’s your problem, man?”

He figured he better not look at Dave.  “Nothing’s my problem.”

He listened to Dave take the record off and flip through his collection for another.  “You worried about having a delinquent roommate?  Think I might run you off?”  He could hear the smirk in his voice.  It was an edge, a slight chuckle.  If it had fingers it would have been tickling up John’s spine.

John wracked his brain for a way to get the upper hand in this conversation.  He made the strategic decision not to pay Dave a glance as he spoke, but it was mostly just to hide the red in his cheeks.  “You’ve got a reputation here, don’t you?”

He shifted around on his bed.  “Guilty.”

John straightened his posture and folded a shirt neatly against his chest.  From the corner of his eye, he peered at the various garments lying around Dave’s side of the floor.  “I don’t care, man.  Just as long as whatever you’re doing doesn’t get me in trouble.”

“Okay, I think I can respect that.”

John unpacked his bed sheets and turned back around to dress his mattress.  Dave was lying with his feet propped up against the wall and his head hanging off the edge of his bed.  His half cigarette was between his lips, but it wasn’t lit.  He wasn’t saying anything, but John knew his eyes were following him.  

John decided he was going to allow himself one evening of homosexual thoughts, and then he was never going to look at Dave in that way again.

“Dinner starts in a few minutes,” Dave announced.  He rolled out of his bed and took his record off.  He grabbed his tie from his chair and tucked it lazily under his collar, letting the ends just hang loose.  He ran his fingers through his hair a few times and then turned to John, who quickly attempted to pretend he hadn’t been watching his every move.  “Why don’t you come with me, Steve?”

---

Dave didn’t say much outside of pointing out certain buildings and good places to smoke on the way to the cafeteria.  John kept looking at him and trying to piece together what kind of reputation exactly he could have.  Everything in John’s good nature told him to keep away from this boy, but his defiant aloofness made him want to chisel as deep as he could go.

He followed Dave through the line and sat across from him at a far table next to a window.  The evening sunlight made the outline of his hair glow white.  He watched John cut apart his chicken delicately and methodically.  Dave picked at his green beans one by one.

“So why are you here for just your senior year?”

John could tell he wasn’t the type for small talk, so he must have been genuinely interested.  “I got a scholarship.  I thought this school would look good on college applications.”

Dave stopped chewing and swallowed.  “A scholarship?”

“What?”  John couldn’t tell if he was impressed or alarmed.

He went back to stabbing at his food.  “You know what kinds of kids are here, right?  Not ones who get scholarships.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Oho, man.”  Dave laughed and shook his head.  “You’re too cute, John.”

John stuttered for a moment, that annoyingly familiar heat rising back to his cheeks.  “What?”

Dave chewed his food, which was clearly more important to him than this conversation.  “This isn’t where good, hard-working boys from middle-class families who wear clean specs and ironed shirts and get scholarships go.”  He pointed at John with his fork.  “This is the kind of school where filthy rich parents dump their snot-nosed sons for nine months out of the year because they have better things to do than raise them.”

John’s chest felt tight.  He was fully aware of all he was saying.  He just figured if he kept his head down, they wouldn’t be able to sniff him out.  But Dave had barely known him for an hour.  “Oh.”

“Hey, don’t you worry.”  He picked a few green beans from John’s plate.  “You’re lucky you got me as a roommate.”

“I thought you had a reputation?”

“That’s right.”  Dave bit the beans from his fork, never breaking eye contact with him.  He smirked and licked his lips.  “‘Cause I’m at the top of the food chain.”

---

For the next few days, Dave did as he said he would and took John under his wing.  He was right.  Out of all the filthy rich kids, he was the filthiest.  The underclassman dove out of his way when he walked around the campus.  If he held out a cigarette, someone would light it for him.

John couldn’t figure out why Dave let him hang around.  He couldn’t figure out why he actually asked him about himself and listened when he talked about the movies he liked.  He couldn't figure out how he still knew so little about him.

Monday morning, John arrived early to his first-period pre-calculus class.  He tried to look busy with his books as more students trickled into the classroom.  It was a plain, uncomfortable kind of room.  The desk rows were too tight together, and the walls were bare of any diagrams or posters.  The blinds were drawn, and the room was bathed in harsh electric light.

Once the teacher entered, the atmosphere seemed to get sucked out of the room.  She was tall and rail-thin, with a rigid posture and an expression that seemed even more strict and unmoving.  She unloaded a thick math book and started writing her name on the chalkboard in her tight, jagged handwriting:  Ms. Richter.

About a second before the tardy bell rang, none other than Dave glided into the classroom.  If he noticed the razor-sharp glare Ms. Richter shot him, he wasn’t fazed by it.  He spotted John and squeezed into the open seat beside him.  He had no books, no paper, just a stubby pencil and his sunglasses.

Richter quieted the class with just a pointed look.  She cleared her throat and gave her speech about how she had no tolerance for tomfoolery, and a vague--but still effective, John thought--about what would happen if anyone were to disrespect her policy.  She had her eyes fixed on Dave the entire time, but his expression remained neutral and undaunted.

“Mr. Strider,” she said, stinging enough that John saw Dave’s fingers tighten around the edge of his desk.  All the boys looked in his direction.

“If you think I’m like any of your previous instructors and will allow any of your notorious nonsense, you are sorely mistaken.”

She marched down the row so swiftly she fluttered the papers on students’ desks.  In a flash, she swiped her talons and snatched the sunglasses off of his face.

John felt his throat squeeze.  In a swirl of fabric, she marched back up to her desk and stuffed the glasses in her bag.

“Sunglasses are a violation of the dress code, Mr. Strider.”

John dared a look at Dave.  He sat completely still, his hands clamped around the edges of his desk.  His eyes were shut, and breaths came hard and slow in and out of his nose.

The class was achingly silent for the rest of the period.  As soon as the bell rang, Dave disappeared.  He was no longer at the top of the food chain.

---

John didn’t see Dave for the rest of the day.  He thought about going back to their room between classes to check on him, but he figured it probably wasn’t his place.  He didn’t want to be seen and wanted to stay that way.

After classes, he reluctantly decided to head back to their room.  When he got to his floor, he could hear music blaring from down the hallway.  The door was cracked, and he carefully pushed it open.  The air was smoky.  Dave had lit four cigarettes and just let them burn.  

John closed the door behind him and went to open the window.  Dave was hanging upside down from his bed, his eyes still shut.  He wanted to say something, but he decided he’d wait and let Dave speak first.

John slipped out of his shoes and settled on his bed with the book he’d been assigned for his literature class.  Dave reached over blindly and turned the music down.

John was several pages in when he finally spoke.

“I’m going to get my shades back.”

John froze, his thumb resting on the corner of his page.  He placed his glasses back on his nose.  Dave hadn’t moved from his position.  He still wasn’t showing the other boy his eyes, but his flat expression had shifted slightly.  His thumb drummed eagerly against his chest.

“What?”

He chewed on his lip.  “Tonight at six.  We’re going to break into her office.”

“We?”

“Yeah?”

John swallowed as he tried to process what was happening.  “Can I ask why?”

“A heist is better with company.”  Dave climbed off his bed and went to choose another record.  He kept his eyes away from John.  “Don’t question it, Egbert, just be flattered I asked.”

“No, I meant--”  He knew he was stepping into risky territory.  “Why do you have to steal them back?”

He could almost see the wall coming up in front of Dave.  It was a real one, too, not just a pretty translucent one he kept up for mystery.  “I’m not sure what kind of answer you’re looking for.”

As much as he wanted to press, John decided that for some reason he didn’t want to ruin whatever little thing they had going here even more.  “I’m not looking for one at all.  I was just making sure you knew why.”

Dave snickered.  “Okay.  Are you gonna come with me or not?”

John frowned.  He flicked at the corner of his book and bit the inside of his cheek.  “I can’t tonight, Dave.  The practice room is only open at six, and I’ve got to go.”

He shrugged.  “Heist at seven, then.”

---

John hadn’t been expecting Dave to accompany him to practice, so naturally, he was completely unprepared.  He kept himself always just out of his plain field of vision somehow, and stayed in his peripherals.

He followed John into the music room and flipped on the lights behind them.  John felt his eyes on him as he pushed the bench up to the piano and tested a few chords.  He sat down and waited for Dave to say something, but he stayed quiet.

John ran through a few pieces, maybe concentrating too hard on not missing notes instead of actually playing them.  Why did he feel he needed to impress Dave?  Maybe because he’d chosen him to join him on his heist.  Maybe it was because he’d taken the time to watch him practice.  Maybe it was because he wanted to be the reason for moving that indifferent expression of his.  Maybe because he wanted to see him smile outside of his daydreams.

He attempted a more ambitious piece he’d been working on.  He stumbled through the chords and disentangled his way through the notes.  He stopped about halfway through before he made a complete fool of himself.

“Why’d you stop?” Dave asked, causing John to jump.

“It--It needs a lot of work.”  Warmth seeped back into his cheeks.

“So keep working.”

Dave had pushed three chairs together and was lying across them like a cat in a windowsill.  John smiled.

“Why’d you come with me?”

“Why’d you let me?”

John couldn’t tell him why.  He couldn’t even tell himself why.  He couldn’t tell him he thought about crawling into his bed with him at night.  He couldn’t tell him he looked at the freckles on his back when he came back from the showers.  He couldn’t tell him he was hooked on the impossible mystery Dave Strider was.

“I think you’re swell, I guess.”

Dave laughed.  “Don’t tell me you write poetry, too.”

He got up and squeezed himself next to John on the bench.  John reflexively pinned his elbows to his sides.  Dave’s thigh pressed against his.  “Teach me a song.”

If John wasn’t already on fire, he was now.  Sweat beaded at the back of his neck.  He tried not to shake as he lifted his hands back to the piano.  “Do you know where C is?”

“Do I look like I know where C is?”

John reached over and hit C down low and instructed him to copy him at the middle.  He slowly demonstrated the melody for “Heart and Soul”.  Dave clumsily mimicked him.

As he kept repeating the notes to get a feel for the melody, he said, “Thanks for not prying about my shades.”

John tentatively began on the chords.  “Why are you thanking me?”

“You seem like the kind of guy who always likes to ask if you’re okay.”  He hit the wrong key and frowned.  “Like the kind of guy who cares.  I’m glad you figured out not to do that shit to me.”

No matter how badly John wanted his hand to accidentally bump into Dave’s, he avoided it.  “You don’t want me to care?”

He finally looked at him, full in the face.  His eyebrows were scrunched, and his eyelids sat low.  His eyelashes were light and curly, nearly close enough to dust against the other boy’s nose.  John couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, and he kind of liked it.

“I think I do want you to care.  I just don’t want you to talk about it.”

Dave turned back to the piano and started practicing the melody again.  John matched the chords with his choppy rhythm the best he could.

“Dave, I don’t think we should steal your sunglasses back.”

He didn’t stop playing.  He must have expected John to say that.  “Why not?”

“I--I think that’s what Richter is expecting.  I think she’s trying to get something out of you so you can be punished.”

Dave was quiet for a long moment.  John took it he realized what he was saying was right.  “Hey, John?”

John’s heartbeat lurched as the side of Dave’s hand bumped ungracefully into his.  “Yeah?”

“How about I take you out to see a movie tonight?”

---

Dave took their excursion as an opportunity to teach John where he could go to sneak in after curfew.  He jimmied open the fire exit and pushed John inside.  They clambered up the stairs and slipped into their room.  Dave was smiling.

He put on a record and flopped down on his bed.  He said nothing, only bobbed his head a little and grinned at John.

He turned to his dresser so he could maybe stifle that stubborn heat.  He changed out of his uniform and into his pajamas.  “You know, I almost forgot, Dave.”

“Forgot what?”

John picked up his pants and turned out one of the pockets.  “I grabbed these at the gas station while you were filling your car up.”  He fastened the top button on his pajama shirt and presented Dave with a pair of aviator sunglasses.

Dave got up and approached John.  He took the shades from his open palm and examined them, his expression still as usual.

“I--I know it’s silly, but--”

“John.”  He put on the sunglasses.  The price tag was still hanging off of them.  He barely had any time to admire how they looked on him.  “Just this once, stop being cute.”

“What?”

Dave grabbed the front of his pajamas and kissed John on the mouth.  He felt him lift onto the balls of his feet to reach him.  He couldn’t move.  He could only stare as his glasses bumped into Dave’s.

He pulled away, still gripping John’s collar.  It looked like his lips were trying their damnedest not to pull into a grin.  “I warned you.”

“Dave, I--”  John’s lips still buzzed with Dave.  His nose was nearly touching his.  He could taste the Pepsicola and popcorn.  He swallowed.  “I won’t talk about it.”

He wrapped Dave in his arms and kissed that stubborn grin.