I'm a fighter

Given that it had been a little over a week since people had been thrown into the ground and through pillars and such, Annie felt like she'd probably rested up enough to be able to do a little heavy lifting.

Just a little. Like, a dresser or two.

She'd been making trips between her apartment and Diego's the past few days or so anyway, taking over smaller things, but today found her moving her heavier furniture (and sure, maybe it was a little bit to prove that she could -- it was so weird to take time off from training.)

She was at least sensible enough to use the elevator, of course, which meant that there was a small stack of Annie's furniture accumulating in the lobby next to the elevator. (Look, it made more sense to her to get it all together there, and then take it over to Diego's in trips once it was all on the first floor. Maybe she was wrong, but it was a system, at least.)

[totally open! feel free to catch her wherever!]

So, Annie had gotten back from Iowa Sunday evening, and -- look, there was kind of an order to things when Annie got back from a trip home, okay? And that order of things didn't include listening to the radio or whatever, so -- basically, no one here knew anything was weird.

Which was why Tuesday evening, Annie and Diego made the probably-foolish decision to put on some clothes and try and do something productive with this pent-up energy they both had by fighting some crime over in Baltimore. Because that was a great idea.

"Just about ready?" Annie called, double-checking her eye makeup in the bathroom mirror, because as everyone knew, your smoky eye was a great indicator of your superhero abilities.

[for the guy covered in knives. ETA: try not to be too surprised that I'm p. sure this will shortly not be okay for work.]

Okay, not to be too - whatever about it, but this whole sangria night was one of those things that Annie felt like she'd kind of missed out on doing before because she hadn't had a lot of girlfriends growing up. (Not that she would have had, like, little gal pals over for sangria sleepovers in high school or whatever, but just the whole thing seemed like one of those rites of passage that Annie kept coming up against.)

So, in any case, she had made a big ol' pitcher of sangria (and in typical Annie fashion, she had poured pretty heavy so, like, bad news for her class tomorrow!), and she'd dug out a little tub of a foot mask she'd gotten for Christmas, because while her mani-pedi she'd gotten with Rey a couple weeks back was still holding up, winter was here and dry skin was a whole thing. She also lit a few of her big jarred scented candles, and you bet your ass she double-checked all her cute little similar-looking jars just to make sure there wasn't anything she'd forgotten to retrieve. (Not that having Summer find a stash like that would be nearly as embarrassing as it had been when Danny had, but you know, Annie felt like she couldn't be too careful now.)

[for she who is narratively mentioned, of course!]

Annie was laying on her couch and - okay, she was not reading the crappy vampire book, because she'd gotten so bored that she'd actually picked up her phone, but it was close enough that she could pretend that's what she was doing.

Instead, she'd started googling around and trying to figure out what else was popular here that they didn't have back home, because it couldn't just be sexy vampires.

"What on earth is with these little, like, pills in overalls?" she wondered (aloud, to her empty apartment, yes.) Because they were everywhere and seemed to have little attitudes and she did not get it at all.

[for one! eta: also getting NWS, proceed at your own risk]

Annie's class had gone okay today! Unless it hadn't omg. And having survived her very first class - which, even she could admit, was definitely the easiest one - she was all set to enjoy an incredibly quiet, easy Friday afternoon.

Her big plan today was to start the second of the crappy vampire books, because even if they were sort of stupid, Annie was admittedly kind of interested in seeing what happened next, if only to see how this story could possibly stretch across four books.

Of course, she had completely forgotten about any plans she had made with anyone about baking. Totally forgot those entirely. Which wasn't a bad thing, except for how she hadn't thought to do anything about her - kitchen storage situation, either. Whoops.

[for a specific person or two]

Annie had returned from Iowa fairly early this morning, and had had Diego at her apartment within a few minutes of texting him that she was back. The rest of the morning had been spent reacquainting themselves with one another, since it had been an incredibly long five days. (Five days was an eternity when you'd been dating two months, and it was especially long when your mother was a pain and you could barely even talk about your relationship, much less gush the way Annie had wanted to.) 

Now, though - having gotten that out of their systems for the moment, napped, and rehydrated - they were set up on her couch for a lazy, cozy Sunday afternoon. What's more, they had taken a very, very big step: Annie was introducing Diego to his very first VCU movie. She had decided on Black Noir: Insurrection, figuring she'd start with one she thought he'd like and they could work their way through the catalog from there.

"So like, this guy is kind of like if you were a hero in my world. He kind of has your vibe," Annie told Diego as she started the movie, cuddling right up against him. (And really, if you asked her, Diego's vibe was more Tek-Knight, but his movies were so hit or miss.) "Except he doesn't talk."

Which meant that they weren't going to miss a lot if they talked through it, either. (Or not talked. Please, this was like, textbook 'Voughtflix and chill,' here.)

[for the guy! eta: and now it is not to be read at work.]

So, Annie was doing this Christmas party next Friday. And, really, regardless of the party, she had been tasked with ensuring Diego got the whole Christmas experience, this year.

And a vital part of the Christmas experience? Wearing weird, tacky, semi-humiliating holiday-themed clothes.

So, she'd invited Diego over and had managed to make hot chocolate without burning her apartment down, and was now lounging next to him on her couch with her laptop positioned on her legs. 

"How about this one?"

Did it matter that it was still two days before Thanksgiving? No, and stop judging her.

[for Rambo's ninja cousin. ETA: don't read this at work, omg.]