Stretched-labret

Cleared for running? HECK YES, I’M GONNA GO THE FIRST CHANCE I GET!!
Oooohhhh. I missed it so much. My PT took away running last September. It’s been 7 months! I only did one mile. After my walking to make certain I was loose enough. 1 minute intervals of run/walk.
SO GOOD.

Running is very difficult for me. So my self pep talk went a little like this:

* Ok, we’re doing it! Good job, you.
* Oh my gosh, already with the hand flailing. Pull that back in line.
* Abs. Abs. Abs.
* Shoulders back. Keep your shoulders back.
* Weird. My lungs seem to be handling this fine.
* Stop with that weird hand flailing. Stay square.
* Your abs!
* Did that drop of sweat just come from my ear? Well that’s awesome.
* Just kidding, lungs!!! You are NOT handling this fine. Don’t pass out. The children won’t even know to come check on you.
* I’m almost done? I wanna keep going!

There’s more, but I can’t remember. I finished up the entire mile of intervals in just under 11 minutes. This is huge for me because when I go out to just run I know I’ll be faster. I’M SO EXCITED. Ok. Now we wait until tomorrow to see how my back handles this.

Crazy.

luthorslesbian  asked:

Ot4, Z ( make up your own). Lexa has her own part of the closet bc she never really had anything hers, did you ever mention how it came up between them? Like, did Lexa bring it up? Or did smth else happen? Bedazzle me with your writing skills, maestro ;D

Clarke is standing in front of Lexa in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear.

Lexa is frowning, her face scrunched up and there’s a twist of fluttering panic in her stomach that has nothing to do with her half naked girlfriend trying to talk her way into her lap.

Both of them are flustered and frustrated.

They officially moved into the new house three weeks ago and this isn’t the first time Lexa’s felt this tightening in her chest and the need to shrink into herself. Her things are mixin in with Clarke and Octavia’s, the house starting to feel like a place that they all live. They carve out little corners, pockets of themselves, bits of compromise. Lexa knows she’s mourning the loss of her autonomy. In her apartment what little she had was hers, and only hers.

Clarke is in Lexa’s t-shirt and Lexa can’t quite articulate what it is that’s making her frown because Clarke has amazing legs and there’s light smile on her lips and it’s clear that she wants to be in Lexa’s lap… or she did before Lexa crossed her arms over her chest and halted the whole flirtation.

“I’m just not in the mood,” Lexa stands, holding in her place in the book she had been reading with her finger and trying not to brush up against Clarke who doesn’t move back. She can barely make it past her without touching. She shivers with Clarke reaches out to catch her at the elbow.

“You’ve been hot and cold all week, Lexa.” She pulls gently at Lexa’s arm but doesn’t hold on tight. If Lexa wanted to pull away she could with little effort.

It feels silly and petty and pointless. She just needs to get used to sharing a space and things with someone that isn’t Anya. Just needs to trust them. She does, but there’s a part of her that is hung up. Lexa reaches out and tugs at the edge of the shirt Clarke is wearing, a simple white tee with a pocket on the front, nothing fancy. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

“If you wanted the shirt off you could have just said,” Clarke winks but her smile is soft and apologetic. She crosses her arms and pulls off the t-shirt tossing it across the back of the couch. “Better?”

“Clarke…” Lexa’s gazy flicks down, she can’t help it. “That’s wasn’t my point.” She frowns trying to focus on what her point was, but Clarke’s bra is lace, pale cream only a shade darker than her skin.

Clarke takes a step forward and catches her fingers through Lexa’s belt loops, pulling her close. “Lexa.” She’s trying to distract the melancholy out of her and she isn’t certain it will work.

“It’s just…” her gaze flicks over her shoulder to the shirt on the back of the couch. She should let it go and just pay attention to Clarke, but the memory is sitting there of being eight and having her clothes taken by the other girls in the group home, clothes Anya had spent her money on, being told she should share by their caretakers. She inhales sharply and it turns into a sniffle.

“Whoa, okay, no something is actually bothering you.” Clarke leans past Lexa and grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and wraps it around herself like a towel. Panic rises in her chest and she tries to push it down. Something being wrong doesn’t mean Lexa will shut down again or run. Maybe if she gets Lexa to talk she can stop whatever this that is happening.

“I just need to adjust.” Lexa shrugs.

Clarke nudges her back onto the couch to sit down and slips in next to her, brushing a stray tear from her cheek, “Talk to me? This is bugging you.” She presses her lips to Lexa’s shoulder and  threads their fingers together. “Is this about me wearing your shirt?”

Lexa stops herself from shrugging because she doesn’t really want to push Clarke away but the words stick in her throat. She talks around it. “You can Octavia share almost all your clothes. I know it’s just what you do. There are some things I don’t see her wear and vise versa… but there’s little that is distinctly either of yours… and now I’m part of that.”

Clarke lunges forward wrapping herself around Lexa, kissing her soundly. When she pulls away she sighs with relief. This is something fixable. “Lexa, if you want your own part of the closet that we don’t touch all you have to do is say so.” She presses her lips to Lexa’s forehead. “Except the fuzzy socks, those are too good to give up.”

When she pulls back Lexa is looking up at her with a small open wonder.

“That’s it?” She slips her hand under the edge of the blanket and finds her way to lay it against Clarke’s bare waist.

“We can talk with O when she gets back from her run with Raven.” Clarke shifts so she’s straddling Lexa’s lap. “Whatever you need. This is our house.”

Lexa leans forward, pressing a kiss to Clarke’s sternum, a smile on her lips. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Yep, you’re stuck with us now,” Clarke laughs softly and lifts Lexa’s chin with a gentle touch.

Lexa wraps her arms firmly around Clarke’s waist, the smile on her lips wrinkling her nose. “Good,” she says softly. “I know exactly what we should do while we wait for O, and it doesn’t involve any clothes.”

Clarke’s grin widens to match Lexa’s. She opens up the blanket and tosses it over them both with a laugh. As she leans over to kiss her she whispers, “I like this idea.”