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It wasn’t to the level of their household’s Halloween bash, but Val had attracted a decent-sized group of friends to her place for New Year’s Eve. It was far more intimate and her musical suggestions of playing some throwback 90s R&B had been (rightfully) ignored in favor of something a little more mellow and festive. She’d pulled herself away from a round of Yahtzee (losing twice in a row sucked, okay?) and found Andy in the living room. Val sat crookedly on the arm of the couch next to her, fingers tugging at the sleeve of Andy’s shirt. She’d had a large glass of wine and not much else that night, so a comfortable warmth was spreading through her. She was surrounded by friends, actual friends and not just strangers who’d wandered in through her front door.

“Hi,” she murmured, leaning over Andy so she could set down her glass. “...I have stuff to say.” Her voice was firm, assured as she straightened, looking down at the other. “I kept my mouth shut for a really long time, you know? Like super long. I was good. Saint-like. I was waiting for you to bring it up... and then I realized that I should just step up and say what I want to say. Leadership.” The candid words tumbled out easily. She hadn’t intended on bringing this up on New Year’s Eve but if not now then when? Val had certainly had the words swirling in her mind long enough. ”I don’t want to be someone you fuck with only when you need it, or when it’s some holiday and I look hot. So you have to figure out what you want. It’s kind of an all or nothing thing.” Ultimatums weren’t fun but at least she would know. She liked to think she could handle a straightforward rejection.

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#andythomasx #p: andythomasx #[[ flashback... very smol flashback ]]

tide’s changing, i’m waiting — VANDY.

The apartment was dark and silent when Val came home from her day of work. It had been a longer shift than anticipated, which meant that she’d had a rare moment of laziness and brought home food from the country club instead of insisting she make dinner for the household. “Guys?” she shouted anyway in case someone was lurking in the living room. “Bisque tonight if you haven’t eaten yet, and I took home some fancy bread from work,” she continued, to no response. Talking in an empty house was a habit she’d picked up from her mother, who’d hold her children accountable for things she announced even when all of them weren’t present.

Val tucked away most of the items in the fridge, then headed down the hall to her room. The door was closed but she thought nothing of it; sometimes a draft would slam it shut. But when she tried the door and the knob didn’t turn at all, the confusion was evident on her face. Val’s door was never locked; before this moment she hadn’t even been sure it actually worked. There was no need. She’d always made it perfectly clear that her two roommates were welcome to her things, and she had nothing to hide. Val jiggled the knob again, a little harder just in case something was sticking. And then she finally knocked, which felt weird considering it was her own room. “...Andy?” she said after a moment, thinking she might have heard some rustling on the other side of the door. That only inspired more confusion -- and a little worry -- considering Andy wouldn’t have stayed silent earlier if she was in the apartment. Her knock turned into a louder, firm slap on the door, and the ridiculous thought of a burglar in their apartment came briefly to Val’s mind. “That’s you, right?”

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#andythomasx #p: andythomasx

Megan drained her beer. Mixing alcohol was foolish. The nurse had wasted many hours berating patients of being irresponsible. Sadly, though, she wasn't too troubled when it came to herself. That often happened the drunker she became. At that point, she had lost count of how much she’d drank. Her gaze was fixated on Morgan and some unknown blonde. Who was that woman anyway? Her stupid fluffy hair-- and her long legs. Megan didn't care. She wasn't jealous. “My ass is better,” she muttered, unable to wipe the scowl off her face. In her drunken stupor, she hadn't even realized she wasn't alone. @andythomasx

#andythomasx #event; 1

Waves of nostalgia rolled over Val as she approached the field, sidestepping loud families and almost equally as loud officials on the grass. It wasn’t the same field, or even the same part of the state, but being flanked by goal posts and white paint as she walked towards the stands took her back to high school in Raleigh. She’d never actually been to a significant soccer match, save for the playbacks she and her parents watched when it was World Cup season (her dad always had his head in his hands, and her mom always challenged the referee onscreen). In high school, lacrosse had been her primary team sport. She’d actually spent a lot of time in her formative years fighting over field time with her school’s soccer team, but now was there as an excited spectator.

She hadn’t gone so far as to print Andy’s face out as she mentioned so many weeks before; she worried she’d get in trouble for being distracting and then removed from the game she’d come to see. And she’d never forgive herself for missing Andy’s championship, not when they’d become so close as of late. But Val did have a posterboard with her friend’s number blocked out in marker to show her support. She’d always heard stories of her training and her team and her victories, and Val was prepared to be left in awe seeing it all come together. She’d already been blown away by the little scrimmages they’d shared together since the first. She spotted the woman in question and tugged lightly at her shoulder to get her to turn, throwing her a grin. Val had to get at least a few sentiments in before she was shooed away from the players. “Hey, Cap,” she marveled, lips close to her ear before she pulled back and gave Andy a once-over. “Eat a good breakfast?”