#please forgive how its written and if theres any errors

[mylarena]

kicks feet. wolf shifter au but its just soap whos a shifter and ghost is a regular human who does not know that the weird wolf who keeps showing up at his little cabin/cottage in the woods is actually john from the repair shop in the nearest village.

either that or soap just isnt present in the village at all and spends a lot of time in the fuckin woods

but like. ghost is tending to his vegetable garden one day and feels keen eyes watching him, so he observes the area around himself subtly and theres a rustle in the brush so he zeroes in on that while he goes through the motions of weeding and watering and such. and eventually he feels the eyes on him leave. so he finishes his work and goes inside (made sure to lock the door that night)

he goes out again the next day to do his tasks and eventually feels the same gaze on him. but he just pretends he doesnt know something (someone) is watching him and continues his work. eventually they leave again, and he continues on.

this happens a few more times, then one day he can actually see the eyes in the bushes. he makes eye contact, holds it until the other pair of eyes blink, then continues with his business (never turning his back to the creature)

and sllloooowly over time, the creature inches its way out of the cover of the bushes. and its the biggest fucking wolf ghost has ever seen in his damn life.

eventually the wolf just sits right outside the fence of his garden. and he starts talking to it. its not often he gets any kind of visitors out in the woods, and hes a bit of a Lone Wolf ™️ type so he doesnt really mind,,, but theres a fuckin wolf. right there. a huge ass wolf. and he starts making comments to it. which turns into full sentences, then one-sided conversations of whatever he thinks of.

then one day the wolf is inside the fence. with no evidence of how it got in. the gate is still latched, theres no holes in the fencing, no marks left from and kind of scrabble over the wood.

but the wolf is just There. Sitting. Waiting for him.

and hes apprehensive at first because theres nothing between him and this wild fucking wolf. but he goes about his day and the wolf just follows him around the garden, somehow managing to not trample a single plant (ghost sees how hes exceedingly careful to not even brush his tail against them. weird.)

by the time the sun is going down, he opens up the gate for the wolf to leave, and he just looks at him for a long moment, before ghost gestures his head for him to leave, and he does.

and the next day hes back in the fuckin garden

whats even weirder about the whole situation is the fact that the wolf engages in the conversations. not speaking words, but replying with barks and growls and whines and gestures, gestures that arent natural for a wolf, gestures that are human.

the wolf slowly inches his way closer and closer every day, eventually daring to sit right up against ghosts leg when hes taking a break. then he sets his head on his knee and looks up at him and pretty much fucking pouts until ghost hesitantly places a hand on his head. his fur is fucking soft. silky smooth, fluffy down his back, and soft as a fuckin cloud.

now that hes up close, ghost can see little scars and features that he couldnt from a distance. hes got nicks in his ears, a scar on his chin, one going over his eye, and one that looks fairly new down his chest.

some days the wolf (ghost just calls him "Wolf" in his head. he's not gonna name the fucker.) doesnt visit. ghost pretends it doesnt strike a bit of concern in him, forces himself to focus on his tasks instead of worrying about the animal.

hes a fucking wolf. he lives in the wild. he can handle himself.

what really concerns him, though, is when a harsh thunderstorm hits. its raining hard, the trees are thrashing violently in the wind, and the rumbling of thunder gets ever closer.

hes stuck inside, knowing better than to try and do jack shit outside when the wind is strong enough to take him off of his feet.

but for once he doesnt worry about his crops or the chair he keeps on his porch- he worries about Wolf.

again, wild fuckin wolf, can handle himself, but the weather is absolutely abysmal.

so ghost cant help but pace around, having forgone his usual reading after he couldnt focus on what the words on the pages were because his thoughts were consumed with worry.

the thunder is louder than ever, the lightning is absolutely blinding, and he can hear how the fence gate outside is swinging madly in the wind, having opened when the weather started growing worse. he cant hear his own breathing, the only thing he can hear is the torrent of rain and howling of the wind and his heart thumping in his chest. its a fucking wonder that he actually manages to catch the scratching at the door.

he freezes in his pacing, listening in silence for the noise to happen again, and when it does he all but rushes to the door and swings it open (the wind did most of the work, quite frankly.), and there. Wolf, soaked to the fucking bone, ears flat to his skull. ghost stares, Wolf stares back, and then theres a blinding flash of light and a deafening clap of thunder, and hes reaching out and dragging Wolf inside.

he struggles with the door for a moment, fighting against the wind, but gets it close and latched. he turns to the wild fucking wolf that stands in his actual fucking house, takes in the sight of his violent shivering and dripping pelt, and swears as he jolts into the motion of getting a towel or two to try and dry him off.

when he kneels in front of the dog, dropping a towel on his back and starting to ruffle his fur dry with it, he starts talking. talking about the shit weather, about the damage thats surely going to come to his garden, about his concern about Wolf himself, how worried he was. as he rambles, he takes note of the scratches and scrapes that hide under Wolf's thick pelt. theyre all small, likely from branches and other debris flying around while he made his way to the cabin.

theyre all small, except for a gash across the flank of his left hind leg. ghost can see the blood mixing with the rain water that pours off of him, but only realizes where the wound is when Wolf yelps when he tries to dry the spot.

he apologizes quietly, and quickly finishes drying him the best he can. he sits back on his haunches and takes in the sight of Wolf- his fur ruffled far more than usual, his blue eyes that are filled with exhaustion and lingering fear, the blood thats already starting to make its way down to the hardwood floor, and the way hes trembling like a leaf. he looks ready to fall down right there in his place. so ghost stands after giving the wolf a scratch behind the ear, and ushers him towards the crackling fire thats keeping the place warm. Wolf staggers over, managing to keep himself upright up until ghost finishes laying out a blanket on the floor for him, then practically collapses on it.

ghost heads to where he keeps his medical supplies, grabbing everything he thinks hes going to need to patch up Wolf (hes never treated an animals wounds before. hopefully it isnt too different from patching up his own). when he steps back into the room, he takes a moment to stare at the bizarre scene in front of him. a massive wolf collapsed right in front of his fireplace, eyes closed and chest nearly heaving, surrounded by ghosts neatly arranged living room furniture and bleeding onto one of his favorite blankets. shit, hes bleeding still.

spurred into action, ghost crosses the room in a few quick strides and kneels next to Wolf again. "hey," he whispers softly, watching Wolf open his eyes to look at him, "im gonna patch up your leg, yeah? might hurt a bit. ill be careful." Wolf simply whines softly, closing his eyes once more. ghost runs a hand down his side, then shifts to take a better look at his leg.

the wound isnt incredibly deep, but as he cleans it ghost can tell that itll need stitches. fuck, how is he meant to give a wolf stitches without getting his fucking face mauled off? Wolf had been docile and friendly ever since they met, but ghost also hadnt tried to poke him with a needle and thread before.

he cant just leave him without them, though. hes not keen on letting Wolf be injured and bleeding any longer than he needs to be.

"hey, Wolf," he reaches over and taps the side of Wolf's neck, "i need to stitch up your leg. are you alright with that?" ...as if a fucking wolf is going to know what that means. but Wolf lets out a whimper at his words and fucking nods at him, eyes still shut. alright then.

he prepares everything he needs, taking a look at Wolf's face and giving him a gentle scratch under his ear. "this is gonna hurt," he shifts back to look at the wound, "please dont maul me."

and Wolf doesnt. he whines and whimpers and growls a bit, baring his teeth and thrashing his head, but he never tries to attack ghost and he even keeps his leg fairly still. the whole process ghost whispers apologies, reassurances and praises. when he finishes, he wraps a bandage around the leg then sits back. "we're done now, its over." ghost looks over Wolf as he lets the tension in his body release, listening to his long, relieved whine as he goes limp. "you did good. thanks for not chewing my face off." Wolf simply huffs at him.

he stares a moment longer, but a loud hit of thunder breaks him out of it. he had fixated so intensely on Wolf that he had entirely tuned out the raging storm that was still going on.

he sighs and collects the leftover medical supplies, standing to put them away. instead of making his way back to Wolf's side, he decides that the wolf is probably hungry as all hell and heads towards his kitchen instead.

he prepares a quick, simple meal for himself and his visitor: reheated venison & vegetable stew, leftover from the night before. he carries two bowls back to his living room, crouching and placing one in front of Wolf. "here." ghost watches his nose twitch as he catches a whiff of the stew. the wolf doesnt open his eyes, though. "dinner, Wolf. i know youre hungry." Wolf opens his eyes and looks up at ghost pleadingly. "whats that look for? i cant exactly feed you myself. you need to sit up." Wolf whines at him imploringly. "no. i cannot feed you by hand, youre gonna have to sit up." Wolf downright groans, bracing himself before pulling himself up until hes propped on his front paws. ghost pushes the bowl closer to him. "eat up."

once Wolf sniffs at the stew, he practically lunges forward and starts devouring it. ghost stares with a raised eyebrow for a second, then turns to his own bowl and begins to eat.

they eat in silence- as silent as it can be with a hell-raising storm outside and the sound of a giant wolf gobbling down a bowl of stew. when Wolf finishes literally licking the bowl clean, he flops back down onto his uninjured side. ghost continues to eat, obviously not half as hungry as him. when he finishes, he picks up both bowls and takes them back to his kitchen. ghost takes a moment to place his hands on the counter and lean on it, running through the events of the past hour. theres a fucking wolf in his livingroom. an injured wolf. a wolf that befriended him over the past few months. a wolf he doesnt feel like he can kick out of his house without proper treatment.

he sighs and runs a hand over his face. hes too fucking tired for this shit. he feels unreasonably exhausted just from the excitement of this whole ordeal. he decides he can deal with the situation in the morning, after hes gotten proper sleep.

when he steps back into the living room, Wolf is asleep, chest rising and falling steadily as he breathes. ghost watches him for a moment before giving a heavy sigh. he grabs another blanket off of his couch and throws it over the wolf, hoping the fire doesnt go out overnight and cause Wolf to get cold. he makes his way to his bedroom, getting ready before throwing himself down onto his mattress and staring at the ceiling for a few moments before passing the fuck out.

he wakes in the morning to sunlight filtering through the window into his eyes. he groans and rolls out of bed, pulling a shirt on and stumbling out of his room. he only remembers that theres a fucking. wolf. in his living room when he steps into it. its a bit jarring to see that said wolf isnt there. its even more jarring to see a full fucking grown man asleep in the wolf's place, haphazardly spread out on the ground, nothing but the goddamn blanket to cover himself. ghost thinks he can see a peek of white bandages wrapped around his thigh. he takes a deep breath to center himself.

"what the fuck."

[weabbynormalblog]

Keep strong...

I've had this message on my board all week. So I must of looked at it more than a dozen times since then. What does it mean, what am I trying to say? I stare at it, percrasting not putting laundry away, but washing the floor instead. I struggled with it, the grammar and text of the sign. Should it "be strong" or "stay strong"? Why did I decided in "keep strong" versus "be strong"? Strong can refer to physical and mental strength. Staying with the program that's the "keep" part and the "strong" part is not giving it up for good.

At my worst, it was tempting to end it all. I also wrestle with cutting behavior and body numbness. It isn't easy being me. I know I can change and heal; I've done it before. I am strong. I overcame my dyslexia by the time I was 25. I have over came back injuries, 4 times now in my life and still healing from the last time. I was in a wheel chair for a year due to a frozen sciatica. Ive had successful shoulder surgery too. I gave up smoking over 20 some odd years now. I've survived and recovered from a nasty divorce, lost business and financial ruin. I've also lost 200lbs and avoided diabeties. I thought I had seen it and done it all.

Now I'm a brain injury survivor with chronic pain and fatigue. I'll get through this and so will you!

Can you keep strong and have the ability to ask for help when needed? If you're an over achiever like myself, your pride takes a bit of a dip in having to ask. I know, it's hard to be the one needing help. Especially if it was the other way around before. Now it's time to get past it! It's ok that we need help with some tasks, and that there are things we don't know how to communicate. Then there's things that I can do that others can't. One of my best gifts is my creativity. I can make something out of nothing. Whatever a sweater boom there it is, a minion pinayta for a party, a desk organizer, a bird feeder; some people can't even visualize it, never mind create it. Even Greta Nuremburg speaks of her handicap as a gift. It let her cut through the bullshit to form a direct line to help climate change. There's a certain stubbornness that seems to develop with learning disabilities/brain injury/mental illness etc. For me I'm sure its a coping mechanism. Its my brain working out how to make sense out of all this data. It gets overloaded at the strangest times, it seems. Still lots of mystery in my head. As a person that has difficulties decoding, speaking and hearing, sometimes adapting means putting myself in the middle of everything. I need to arrange things so that I can understand and communicate better, which isn't always possible. I'm fortunate to have a person to help when I need to get groceries or run errans. I'm still too limited with my mobility to drive most days. For everything else I do more with less. I can't hear on the phone. Add accents of any kind to conversations like West Indian, British, French or German... It's the worst for me and then we play a game show called What did you say? I'll take M as in Michael please. I dont do phone calls on days that I'm not up to the task. Forget everything if I have a migraine or my pain is past 6 and I had a rough night. Phone calls, get them out and done first thing in the am. I don't play telephone tag either. When leaving a message state a day and time that works better for them to reach you. I do everything I can possibly do with text messages and email. I process information best like this, the written word. Yeah, I'm not much of a conversationalist these days in person, unless its 1 on 1 or maybe you need a monologue or speech delivered? While writing offers some communication relief theres still grammar errors and spelling mistakes, but more or less writing is stress free for me, even enjoyable opposed to trying to follow a conversation between 3 or 4 people and remember names.

On bad brain days all my disabilities can be too much; then with the chronic pain and fatigue on top of that? Just kill me now? Or maybe now? Screw going anywhere! Ever! It's a head in a jar rough day, my body doesn't respond well to anything. Walking and talking is over ratted at this point; all I can do is rest. I feel defeated by my own body. See you have to "Keep Strong" even when your body can't. So no deal, less urgent tasks fall to the wayside. Sorry I got to bail out on that date again. In the moment I just want to give way, let it all go and become a gelatinous mass that can ooze up and down the stairway, absorb nutrients by oozing on them and Ah...don't move just emit blob like behavior.

Recently I joined the local Chronic pain and fatigue organization, there is no brain rehabilitation in my area, so much for Medicare. I'm so grateful that this .org exists. It's great when I can get out to the activities. The Yoga, it was great! Low impact just what I needed. I was in bed for 2 days after that. This Thursday Yoga came and went with my sadness. I did my at home version instead. Today again is not one of those going out days. That's perfectly fine with me. I know when I'm not good with other people or getting around. There's no point in being angry, tired, frustrated and in pain.

So when faced with "keep strong" laying in my bed. I know that caring for myself is not giving in to limitating beliefs but allowing myself to becoming stronger in the long term by understanding and treating my physical limitations today instead of making like the other regular sheep. I still meet my short term goals on stretching, hydrating and eating well. The basic chores still gets done. You need to remind your self that resting is a part of the healing process. This part is about concentrating on my health and supporting my own recovery. No one can do that for you. Understanding our limitations is not a weakness! Adaptation by trial and error. What works, what doesn't and concentrate on what does work for you. Forgive yourself for not being up to task. I know it's hard to believe that it's is a gift. It is a strength and a gift to be able to face the tough stuff. We get to see the world we live in another way opposed to those entrenched in the rat race. It's not about fitting in society. It's about taking your space, finding your power and place; just as you are. I no longer feel that I'm missing out in life. I'm working on healing myself. I haven't lost the war, I'm just taking a breather. So go on ahead, I'll catch up eventually. This dang boulder won't stop rolling down the hill. Hold on, I'll go get another boulder to stop this one...