Janel and Andy Grammer at Disney

This is why I love her. Keeping it real.

Peta showing Bob and Ronda some support on Instagram. 👍🏻

P is still fierce af even after surgery. QUEEN. 💁👑

Tamar Braxton and Nick Carter (Showstopper Night)

Misguided Development

Note- This one’s for Carly ( ultrafreakyfangirl ) based off of a prompt about Pregnant Janel and Val babysitting Meryl and Maks’ daughter! Thanks Carly and Line ( linesofie1 ) for being my proofreaders :)

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Looking So Crazy

Note- Thanks to valandjanel for tipping me off to this prompt! Original prompt was something like “Janel sings loudly over someone’s nagging and Val beatboxes to back her up”

“I think it’s time we get you home J.”

She knows all too well the faint hint of judgement hidden in his already rather serious accent. It’s reserved for times like this, when the club has been killing it all night and she’s maybe had a few too many drinks and she can’t tell if the lights are swaying or she is. 

But tonight she can’t help but be a little annoyed. After all, he had been right there with her taking shots earlier. For every one drink she’d had, he’d had two, and the last time she saw him before they got separated in the crowd he’d definitely been drunker than her.

“I’m fine,” she slurs, turning around and planting her hands on her hips defiantly. Through her muddled gaze she can see that he’s smirking.

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really.”

She means it, but the room is starting to spin, so she snakes her arms around his neck to hold herself steady anyways. Now he furrows his brow,

“Janel…”

“I just want to dance!” she giggles, grinding her hips against his along with the thumping rhythm of whatever song it is the DJ is playing now. She can barely hear it over the sound of the crowd, but the bass reverberates through the floor, sending the vibrations through her body. Usually he loves this kind of stuff, but now he grabs her hips a little too roughly and nudges her back, making distance between them.

“Seriously J, it’s time to go.”

He reaches up to remove her arms from around his neck, but she swats his hands away with a pout before holding onto him again,

“Just dance with me,” she whines. She’s still feeling fun and playful, and she’s still standing, so she doesn’t understand what is so wrong that he is so insistent on getting her home. Especially because they came out with friends, and based on the fact that no one has stopped by to say goodbye to her yet she’s assuming they’re all still there too.

“Janel you’re acting crazy.”

He’s trying to push her away again, but now she can only laugh because the way he said it has triggered something in her memory,

“I am crazy,” she says, batting her lashes at him with a smile, “so crazy, so crazy…”

“Oh no”

But his protest doesn’t stop her. The rest of the world seems to melt away and she is on stage again, dressed fabulously in her Gatsby era clothing.

“Got me looking so crazy right now, your love’s got me looking so crazy right now,” she sings, swaying as best as she can even though his hands are digging into her hips, holding her in place.

“I swear to God, J-”

“Looking so crazy in love’s got me looking, got me looking so crazy in love!" 

She has to raise her voice to drown out his complaints as his face turns bright red. A small crowd has started to form around them now, and from behind her she hears someone begin to beatbox,

"Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no,” she sings over and over. The rest of the words to the song are lost somewhere in her mind, inaccessible to her in her current state, and eventually she just trails off to some mixed applause from the crowd. She smiles up at him, hoping that her impromptu performance will have lifted his sour mood.

But he just raises his eyebrows,

“You done?”

His voice is definitely still sour and she sighs, nodding in defeat. But then he smiles, gently pulling her arms from around his neck.

“Okay, now turn around.”

She does as she’s told, and her heart drops into her stomach as she comes face to face with Val,

“Hey Baby J!” he grins, pulling her into his arms and planting a sloppy kiss on her forehead. He reeks of alcohol, and she realizes she was right when she thought he must be more drunk than her.

“We make quite the team,” he announces, “You singing, me backing you up. Right bro?”

Janel turns in his arms to see who he’s talking to, and her whole body feels like it’s burning with embarrassment as Maks shakes his head at them. In retrospect, she hadn’t really taken a moment to look at his face, just focused on his voice.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “You’re definitely quite the team.”

She knows she’ll never live it down. 

Like Ice

Note- Thanks to the lovely linesofie1 for letting me steal this prompt from her! The original prompt was “Val shoves his freezing cold hands down the back of Janel’s pants on a freezing cold day to mess with her”

“Hey babe”

Val grins as he comes into the kitchen, where the heat from the oven permeates the room and begins to warm his wind bitten skin. Janel is standing at the stove in a tank top and thin plaid pajama pants, and he can’t help but be a little envious that while he had to go out and brave this unusually cold Los Angeles day for a charity event she got to stay home and have a lazy day in.

But she’s not unsympathetic as she crosses the room and wraps her arms around his waist, her warm body pressing against his chest.

“You must be freezing,” she muses, rocking up on her toes to place a soft kiss of greeting on his lips, “Why didn’t you wear a jacket?”

He shrugs, his hands moving to grasp her waist, keeping her close to him.

“I didn’t think I’d need a winter coat in California, I guess I was wrong.”

“Well it’s a good thing you have me to warm you up.”

He chuckles at her teasing smirk, hands sliding down lower and pulling her closer.

“Yeah, good thing.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth she’s trapped his lips with hers again, this time pulling him in for a much deeper kiss. She moves her arms from his waist, wrapping them around his neck as he presses kisses along her jaw. Then she tosses her head back, giving him perfect access to the pulse point on her neck. He sucks the soft skin between his teeth, nibbling gently until he earns a quiet moan in response.

He can feel heat beginning to pool low in his stomach as Janel rocks against him, clearly searching for some sort of friction. Her legs snake around his, and his instinct takes over. Without thinking he slides his hands down the back of her pants, grabbing her ass and hoisting her up to wrap her legs around his waist.

Out of nowhere she lets out a loud squeal, and he nearly drops her as she squirms and bucks against him.

“Your hands are like ice!”

A blush rises to his cheeks, because he hadn’t even thought about that when he’d done it, but now she’s arching against him, rolling her hips forward away from his cold touch. Instead of removing his hands he just holds on tighter, massaging her soft skin. Her lips fall into a pout as she squeaks with protest, and he can’t help but smirk.

“Well I guess you’ll just have to help me warm them up.”

Just Outside

NOTE- THIS IS FOR ultrafreakyfangirl AND THE APROMT WAS JANELL DRUNK CALLS VAL FROM HAWAII

“Baybeeeeee”

Val groaned, not even bothering to check the time on his phone because he was sure it was still an ungodly hour.

“Janel? What’s up?‘

It was loud on her end of the line, and it would have been heard to hear her if it weren’t for the fact that she was shouting down the phone.

“Hi!” she squealed, her laughter ringing through the phone. It was obvious from the way she spoke that she had probably had too much to drink, but the only thing to do was grin and bear it. Hangin up would just guarantee that she’d call right back and they’d start all over again.

“Hi J,”” he sighed, resisting the urge to scream into his pillow in annoyance, “Are you having fun in Hawaii?”

“No! I miss you too much!”

He had to admit that that made him chuckle. It sounded like she was out in a bar somewhere, or at least at a very raucous party, and yet she was still calling him to tell him she missed him. He just wished she had remembered the time distance.

“I miss you too Baby J, but I’m going to see you soon.”

The whine she made was almost inhuman in that it was so high pitched, and he actually

had to hold the phone away from his face until she stopped.

“Don’t do that.”

“But I missss youuuuuuu”

It occurred to him then that in her current state Janel wasn’t going to hang up the phone

until she was satisfied, and she wouldn’t be satisfied until he was there with her. But that would be hard seeing as he was in his bunk on the tour bus, trying hard not to wake up Keo in the bunk above him. He had to think fast.

“I’m just outside baby.”

“Really?”

Her voice sounded wild with disbelief, and he almost felt bad, but  not bad enough to listen to her cry for another hour that he could be sleeping.

“Yeah,” he assured her, “I’m headed inside now but I’m going to lose service so just keep an eye out for me okay?”

“Okay!”

He sighed. If only he really could be there. But he would see her soon enough.

“I love you Janel”

“I love you too baby! I’ll see you in a minute”

Then she hung up, and before he could let himself feel bad about it he drifted back to sleep. He’d deal with it in the morning.

I Fall to Pieces

Note- This one is for my lovely anons, here’s something more serious. I hope it lives up to expectation! Please also take this all with a grain of salt. It is entirely fictitious, I do not have any idea what is really happening with Janel or Val.

She almost doesn’t respond to his text when she gets it. 

It’s tempting not to, to just leave it so he can see she’s read it and has no intention of replying. She knows that it’s one of his pet peeves. Every ignored text to him was like a personal slight, even if it turned out that the recipient was just busy or didn’t have an answer for him right away.

But she’s not sure she’s willing to face the ramifications of ignoring this text in particular. She can’t even imagine what it must have taken for him to write these words, to hit send before he could delete them. Because she’s seen him do it. There had been nights where she couldn’t sleep, and she lay with her phone on her pillow, open to their texting conversation. She’d watched those three little dots appear and disappear countless times, her stomach a mixture of longing and dread as she waited to finally hear from him again. She’d watched until she fell asleep, and in the morning woken up to find he hadn’t gone through with it after all.

Now, after a month of silence, seeing this new message is almost surreal.

I’m going to be in LA tomorrow for the tour. Can I see you?

If she had gotten it a few weeks ago, she probably would have cried with joy. She would have had to fight herself not to reply immediately and look desperate. 

A few weeks ago she had hoped and prayed and cried while she begged any god she could think of to please just let him talk to her again. Then she had gotten sick of it. She had gotten sick of waking up and immediately feeling like she was going to throw up because he hadn’t texted her overnight. She had gotten sick of going through life like a zombie, afraid to even check her own Twitter because people were asking questions she couldn’t answer.

Finally, she had snapped. She’d woken up to no text from him and she’d decided that she was done caring. Instead of letting it consumer her she filled her life with friends and family and beautiful things. She’d planned a vacation to Hawaii and recorded a song, she’d gone to auditions and interviews, and she’d stopped reading through her mentions on Twitter. With each passing day it got easier and easier to get out of bed and just live her life the way she used to do.

So she doesn’t want to answer his text, because she really truly doesn’t want to see him. Part of her even wishes she had plans for the next day so her excuse could be simple, but somehow she’s not sure she can tell him that her Netflix date with Kleo and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s is too important to be rescheduled.

It takes fifteen minutes before she picks her phone up off the coffee table, her fingers hovering over the keypad. She could always lie, but after everything that’s gone down that doesn’t seem very fair. So she sighs, ignoring Kleo’s nudges for attention as she types back the only honest response she can come up with,

I don’t think that’s a good idea.

The minute it’s sent she puts the phone back down, because her heart is already clenching with anxiety and she knows if she doesn’t she might follow up with something she’ll regret. She turns her attention instead to Kleo, managing a small laugh as the puppy manages to nudge her way onto her lap and lick excitedly at her face. But even Kleo’s sweet kisses aren’t enough to distract her when her phone buzzes almost immediately with his response.

She sets Kleo back on the couch next to her, apologizing when the dog whines even though she knows her foreign words are no comfort, and holds her breath as she reads the new text,

Can we just get a coffee? I really want to see you

Now she is the one whining. It takes every inch of resistance she has to not throw her phone across the room in frustration, because of course he has to do this now. Of course he would wait until she had just started to get her footing again to swoop back in and want to see her. 

Her whole body is telling her to say no, to tell him that she’s sorry but she really can’t. So when she goes to text him back, it feels like her fingers have suddenly rebelled when they don’t type the polite refusal playing over and over in her mind, but instead

Okay, just coffee. Where and when?

And she doesn’t even give herself a moment to stop and take it back, just hits send and sets her phone to silent.

“Come on Kleobear,” she says, stuffing the phone into her pocket and standing up, “Let’s go for a walk!”

Kleo jumps down from the couch and bounds towards the door, and it’s all Janel can do to bound after her. The clench in her chest has melted into a sort of dull ache. She tells herself that she only did it to avoid a fight, or to salvage whatever kind of friendship might be salvageable. The thought that she might actually want to see him dances in the back of her mind, but she dismisses it as she struggles to put on Kleo’s harness.

She’ll get coffee with him tomorrow, and then she’ll be done. Then she’ll be free to move on with her life. In all honesty, it doesn’t seem that hard.

_________________________________________________________

It’s surprisingly busy in the coffee shop. He’d picked a small local place they’d been fond of during their rehearsal days, probably because in all of the times they’d been there it had never been very full. But as she snags a two top in the middle of the shop to wait for him, she overhears two girls at the next table over discussing some event happening down the street, no doubt the cause of the crowd.

Still, she can’t say she minds. The quiet din of conversation and clinking of spoons against saucers is oddly soothing against her uneasiness. The urge to check her phone is almost overwhelming, but she’d promised herself she wouldn’t. She had made the mistake of mentioning her plans to a few friends, and even though her phone is set to silent now she knows if she checks it she’ll be met by a barrage of texts telling her to “put him in his place” or throw her tea on him and leave. 

If they only knew the truth, they might be a little more forgiving.

But as it is her phone is a minefield of temptation, so she instead wraps her hands around her heavy ceramic mug of coffee and just waits. For being in the situation she’s in she feels surprisingly calm. Sure she’s uneasy, but it doesn’t compare to the anxiety she thought she’d be feeling in this moment. There is no tight feeling in her chest, no thoughts rushing through her mind at a thousand miles an hour. She sips her coffee and listens to the girls next to her chatter on about what she has now gathered was some kind of art festival, and even though she knows he’ll be here at any moment, it doesn’t feel like it.

Then, out of the corner of her eye she sees him come through the door, and her whole facade comes tumbling down. He walks straight to the counter, flashing a grin at the barista, and suddenly the shop seems too small and too hot and too loud. Her hands break into a cold sweat, and she almost knocks over her mug when she moves to wipe them on her jeans. 

As the barista makes his drink his eyes begin to scan the room, and she has to mentally remind herself to breathe and try to look normal, because she’s pretty sure she looks like a deer in the headlights right now. 

Her instincts are telling her to run. He hasn’t spotted her yet, she could still make a clean getaway. Because it’s obvious now that this was a huge mistake. His eyes finally land on her and they exchange an awkward nod and half smile because he’s still waiting for his drink, and with just that one look all of the work she’s done to get over him in the past few weeks is undone.

The guilt is back. Her mind is moving a million miles per minute, but all it does is replay where everything went wrong. The memory is so vivid it’s as if she can hear his voice pleading with her in her mind,

“J please, don’t do this. I want to make this work. I want to make us work.”

He had given her an out, given her the chance to take it all back, and she hadn’t. She had stood her ground, promised that it was best for both of them, promised that they would still keep in touch and stay friends, but just friends. She had even managed to keep herself from crying until after they’d hung up and the reality of what she’d just done had set in. Then she’d gone and gotten upset when he never texted her, never kept their promise of staying friends, even though she hadn’t either.

The barista finishes his drink, smiles, hands it to him, and Janel swallows a long gulp of coffee. It burns her throat and leaves her eyes watering, but she barely notices. He’s headed towards her table now, and she tries desperately to get her mind under control.

It was for the best, she tells herself silently.It’s the same thing she’s told herself every single day since it happened. Recently she had actually started to believe it. 

After all, she was just trying to protect him. She had been so jealous, and it had been so stupid. She knew she shouldn’t be jealous, he constantly reassured her she had no reason to be jealous, and yet no matter what she did she couldn’t shake the feeling. 

Then one day it had sunk in that he would always have other dance partners. No matter what, it would never be just her. And even though she wanted so badly to just get over it and accept it as a fact of life, there was still some irrational part of her brain that wouldn’t, or couldn’t, do it. 

And he was so tired of having to reassure her. He didn’t say it, he never would, but he didn’t have to. She could tell from the way he spoke to her that it was grating on him, wearing him down every time she needed him to tell her that no matter who else he danced with, no one would ever take her spot.

She didn’t want him to feel tired anymore. He deserved better than that. He deserved someone who could accept that part of his job was dancing with other beautiful women, and not get jealous every time. 

Ending things with him had been the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, because she didn’t want to do it. Despite what everyone seemed to think, despite what he seemed to think, he hadn’t done anything wrong. He hadn’t done anything to deserve it. She had just wanted better for him than she could give.

It was for the best

It feels like a million years, but is probably just seconds, for him to reach the table. When he does he grins, sitting easily in the seat across from her. There’s a spark in his eyes that she’s seen before, one of hopefulness. 

“It’s good to see you,” he says, his voice a low throaty rumble. 

That’s all it takes for her heart to drop as tears unexpectedly prickle in her eyes. It had been easy over the phone, but seeing him now in person, feeling his presence, she realizes her mistake wasn’t meeting up with him today. It was much worse than that. 

She just hopes he can forgive her.

Carry Me Home

Note- I did not realize how much time had passed I truly apologize. I realize it’s now Monday morning, but here is what I’ve been working on. I will be open for prompts later in the day, but for now I hope you enjoy this! Feel free to like/reblog/send me asks to let me know how you felt about it

     She doesn’t mean to stay for long. She only means to stay for a quick drink, but he’s quite generous when pouring the wine, so when she finishes her glass and he asks if she’d like another she’s just buzzed enough to say yes.

     Then before she knows it two drinks turn to three and they cancel their dinner plans, ordering delivery instead because neither of them feels comfortable driving when they can barely walk to the door.

     When he pours her a fourth drink, she knows she should say no. They have rehearsal with Keo in the morning, and the three drinks she’s had already are going to make it hard enough to wake up. But there’s a mischievous look in his eyes as he refills her glass, and she can feel her whole body getting hot.  Somewhere in the back of her mind she realizes that he drove her here, and he’s supposed to be giving her a ride home, but that doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen. When she’s halfway through her fourth drink and ends up in his lap she realizes she doesn’t mind.

     They never make it to glass number five. It’s late now, hours later than she planned on staying, and even though neither of them will say it out loud they come to a sort of unspoken agreement about where this is going. She gets to her feet and the world seems unsteady beneath her, but then he’s standing too and she grabs onto his arm to steady herself, but he doesn’t seem very steady either. And she wants this, she does, but she can’t help but wonder if this is how she wants it to happen. Because sure they’ve made out plenty of times, and things have gotten pretty hot and heavy, but this is a big step. She can see in his eyes that he wants this too, that this isn’t just drunken lust getting the best of them, but they’re as cloudy as she imagines her own must be and she knows that even if their intentions are good this is probably not a great idea.

     But then he leans down and kisses her, and all thoughts of doubt disappear. She giggles against his lips, and any worry she may have had gets lost in the fuzzy feeling that takes over her mind. When he takes her hand to lead her to his room she doesn’t protest.

     They’re stumbling through the hallway, headed for the stairs, when the sound of a key in the front door stops them in their tracks. They shouldn’t be surprised when it’s Maks that opens the door, after all he lives there too, but in their haze it’s hard to rationalize anything.

     She’s not sure why, but Janel begins to feel uneasy again as Maks looks between the two of them. She tries to pull her hand back from Val’s grip, but he holds on tight.

     “Hey man, you’re home early,” Val slurs, trying to sound casual and failing miserably as Maks shakes his head in disgust.

     “Bro, it’s nearly 2 AM. Don’t you two have rehearsal in the morning?”

     His eyes fall on Janel and she can tell he’s trying to tell if she’s sober. Her heart pounds in her chest and she feels like an anxious child under the gaze of a disapproving older brother as she keeps her mouth shut and lets Val answer.

     “We do,” he says, giving a tug on Janel’s hand as he starts heading for the stairs again, “Which is why we’re going to bed now.”

     Janel goes to follow Val, but the floor still feels like it’s moving under her and when she stumbles in her steps she can see Maks’s eyes get dark.

     “You staying in the guest room J?”

     It’s not really a question, and she doesn’t know how to answer so she just keeps her mouth shut as Maks puts himself between Val and the stairs.

     “Dude, chill. We’re good,” Val says, giving his brother an annoyed shove. And that’s all it takes for Maks to shove him back, sending him stumbling backwards into the coat rack next to the door. He drops Janel’s hand as he falls on the floor with a sickening thud.

     “You’re not good asshole,” Maks replies, holding out a hand to help Val to his feet, “you’re drunk, and you have rehearsal in five hours. Go to bed.”

     “I just said, we’re going-”

     “No, just you go to bed. I’m taking her home.”

     Janel freezes where she stands, and her stomach begins to turn. The fuzzy feeling of being with Val is gone, replaced with a chill of anxiety as the brothers stare each other down. Her mind is still spinning, and the only coherent thought she can grasp is that Maks is angrier than she’s ever seen him.

     “Are you seriously doing this right now?”

     Val moves towards Janel, but Maks blocks him again.

     “Go get your things.” he says to Janel over his shoulder, and even though he doesn’t look as angry when he speaks to her, Janel still flinches before hurrying off to retrieve her bag from the other room. She can hear them shouting as she collects her bag and her phone, and she’s not sure if they’re speaking Russian or she’s really that drunk because she can’t make out a word of it, but by the time she gets back to the front hall Val is storming up the stairs and it’s just her and Maks.

     She feels like she might throw up. Even when she had met him sober she had found Maks intimidating. He just didn’t have the same casual, friendly vibe that Val had, he seemed more serious and guarded. And now he just seems angry as he watches his brother disappear upstairs, and Janel can’t find the words to speak so she just waits until he notices her. The expression on his face changes when he does, but even though he doesn’t look angry anymore she can’t get a read on what this face means so she stays silent.

     “Do you have a coat?” He asks, earning a quick head shake, “Alright, let’s go.”

     There’s part of her that’s still afraid to move, but she manages to follow him out to his car, and even give him her address to put into his GPS. But as they start to drive it’s silent, and she can hear the rush of her own blood pumping in her ears. Outside the window houses and trees move past in a blur and she shuts her eyes before she can get dizzy.

     “Are you gonna get sick?”

     She jumps in surprise at his voice, and it takes her a second to respond.

     “No, ‘m just dizzy.”

     And then she’s even more surprised when he chuckles,

     “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

     She’s still dizzy, but she takes the chance and opens her eyes to glance over at him. He’s still got that weird expression on his face, but at least now there’s a bit of a smile, and she relaxes a little bit in her seat.

     “I’m sorry,” she blurts out suddenly. As soon as the words are out of her mouth she wishes she could take them back, because she’s not even sure why she said them or what she’s sorry for. But Maks just sighs,

     “You don’t have to be sorry, I’m not upset.”

     She looks over at him again and his smile is gone. The dizziness comes back,

     “Okay, but I’m still-”

     “Hey,” he cuts her off as they reach a red light and he turns to face her, “I said I’m not upset. Now close your eyes or do whatever you need to do because you look like you’re gonna be sick.”

     She doesn’t argue, partially because she’s not sure what else to say, and partially because he’s right. The only thing that could make this situation worse would be throwing up in his car, and her body is halfway ready to do just that, so she closes her eyes and rests her head against the cool glass window. She’s always found the way you can feel the vibrations of the car when you rest your head on the window strangely calming, and without meaning to she lets the foggy feeling in her head take over and drifts off to sleep.

     The next thing she knows she’s being lifted bridal style by someone with very strong arms. Her mind is muddled with alcohol and sleep, so her first reaction is that it must be Val, that these are his arms and even if they weren’t who else would be picking her up like this. So she leans against his chest, and that is definitely his chest too because her head fits perfectly in the crook of his neck. But then she breathes in, and the smell is nothing like Val’s smell. She doesn’t know how to describe it, but it’s distinctly not him, and she suddenly realizes that the arms holding her aren’t his arms, and the chest she’s leaning against isn’t his chest. She’s being carried somewhere by someone who isn’t Val, but her body feels so heavy she can’t bring any of her muscles to move and try to stop it. She searches desperately in her mind for some kind of explanation, but the last thing she remembers is Val pulling her onto his lap back at his apartment, and thinking that she wouldn’t mind spending the night.

     She whimpers, because it’s the only thing she can manage right now, and whoever is holding her just holds her tighter,

     “You’re lucky I like you,” he says, and she just whimpers again because even though it’s impossible this man has Val’s voice too.

     “You’re fine,” he says, and she hears the sound of a door unlocking though it must be hard for him to do with her in his arms, “You’re home.”

     And as he steps inside her house something clicks inside of her,

     “Maks?”

     “Yeah?”

     She feels a blush rise to her cheeks because now she’s sure it’s him, but her head is spinning and she can’t make sense of any of this. The only thing that gives her relief is the fact that this is Val’s brother. And even if he does intimidate her, she can’t imagine he would ever do anything to hurt her.

     “You’ll have to tell me where your room is,” he says, jostling her lightly in his arms because he thinks she’s fallen asleep again.

     “Upstairs,” she mumbles with great effort, “Second door on the left.”

     Oreo yaps around his feet as he carries her up to her room, and even though this isn’t Val, Janel instinctively burrows her head closer against Maks, trying to block the noise. He chuckles, saying something that must be Russian to Oreo, and to Janel’s surprise the dog is silent for the rest of the trek to her room.

     When they get there he lays her on the bed, and as soon as her head hits the pillow she’s fighting off the urge to sleep again, because he’s still there. She forces her heavy lidded eyes open, watching passively as he carefully removes her shoes and sets them next to the bed before tucking the blankets up around her.

     “Why are you doing this?” she hears herself ask, though she can’t remember the words forming in her mind. She feels a strange sense of detachment as he looks at her quizically,

     “Why am I making you comfortable?”

     “Why did you bring me home?”

     He’s quiet for a moment, surveying her, then he scoffs in an almost disbelieved way and sits lightly on the edge of her bed.

     “I brought you home because you were going to sleep with my brother.”

     Janel nods, any inhibitions she had around Maks now completely gone, because he’s sitting on the edge of her bed smirking at her like she’s crazy, which might be true right now, and there’s something about it that reminds her of when Melissa would sit with her at night before bed when they were children because of the great injustice Janel felt at having an earlier bedtime.

     “I wanted to sleep with your brother,” she says after a moment, frowning.

     “I know, and he wanted to sleep with you too, that was the problem.”

     “I don’t see how that’s a problem.”

      Maks sighs, running a hand through his hair the same way Val always does,

     “Because you’re better than a drunken hook up.”

     It’s not the answer she was expecting, and Janel doesn’t know how to respond, so she pulls her blankets up closer around her, barely resisting the urge to hide under them completely as Maks laughs,

     “It’s true. He really cares about you, he’s just an idiot when he’s drunk. You don’t have to settle for that.”

     And she’s embarrassed when she feels tears start to well up in her eyes, but she can’t stop them or what comes out of her mouth next,

     “What if he only wants me when he’s drunk?”

      She regrets asking immediately, turning to bury her face in her pillow because even though she’s drunk she’s not drunk enough for that to be an acceptable question. And she hopes that Maks will just leave her there to wallow in how stupid she’s being, but he doesn’t. It takes a second, but then he’s rubbing her back, and it’s awkward but she knows that he means to be comforting and appreciates it.

     “Believe me,” he says, “I live with the guy. He doesn’t just want you when he’s drunk, he wants you all the time. He broods whenever you’re busy or sleeping, or if you take too long to answer his texts.”

     Janel can’t help but laugh at that, hesitantly lifting her head from her pillow to see that he’s smiling too,

     “You’ve made him a pain in the ass to live with.”

     “Hey!” she cries indignantly, “I didn’t do anything. He’s the one brooding. I can’t be with him all the time.”

     “No,” Maks chuckles, “But he wishes you could be.”

      Her heart skips a beat, and she sighs,

     “I wish I could be too.”

     She drops her head back onto her pillow, and they lapse into a comfortable silence. He keeps rubbing circles on her back, but it’s more natural now and she can feel sleep starting to take over again. Her eyes droop shut as she imagines what it would be like to get to be with Val all of the time. And it’s a surprisingly pleasant thought. She imagines getting to wake up next to him, pout at the breakfast table while he makes her coffee because she is so not a morning person and he so is, spend the day in the studio dancing with him, go home together…

     Somewhere along the way she’s vaguely aware that Maks stops rubbing her back. He notices her teddy bear on the floor and tucks it in next to her, and she thinks she mumbles thank you, but in her mind she and Val are walking to a coffee shop together after rehearsal, hand in hand. And when Maks kisses her on the forehead with a quiet goodnight she imagines it’s Val giving her a quick forehead kiss as he holds the door open for her at the coffee shop. Then he leaves and she finally falls into sleep, dreaming of the way her life could be.

     When she wakes in the morning she only has the faintest memory of what happened the night before. Her head throbs and her body aches, but she drags herself out of bed and to rehearsal anyways.

     Val is already there when she arrives, and when he sees her he looks incredibly sheepish.

     “I’m really sorry about last night,” he says, holding out a coffee as a peace offering, “I tried to tell Maks you could just stay in the guest room, but he insisted on taking you home.”

     Janel accepts the coffee, letting Val squirm while she takes a long sip and thinks back to what Maks said the night before about how the stupid fidgety boy standing in front of her is the same boy who wants to be with her all of the time. And how now that she’s thought of it, she wants to be with him too. Then she smiles,

     “Actually, it was better that way. Tell him I say thank you for driving me.”

     Val frowns,

     “Should I be worried?”

     “Not at all. In fact, you should probably thank him too.”

Calming the Restless

Note- Hi everyone! This is a oneshot I’ve been working on for awhile, it takes places a few months after “Misguided Development”. Title credit goes to Carly, and a huge thanks to her and Line for all of their help with this :)

Val awoke with a start to the soft sound of his phone vibrating on his bedside table. Next to him Janel slept soundly on her stomach, one arm stretched to rest protectively on their daughter’s bassinet.

Picking up the phone before the buzzing noise could rouse either of his sleeping girls, Val blinked against the blinding light of the display. Whoever thought it was okay to call him in the middle of the night when they knew he had a two month old was going to catch a piece of his mind. Tomorrow. He wasn’t about to lose sleep bitching someone out.

But before Val could reject the call the name at the top of the screen caught his eye and he stopped himself. Climbing out of bed, he accepted the call and stepped out into the hallway.

“Meryl, what-”

The sound of screaming cut him off. 

Keep reading

Baby Face

“Aww, baby face is back!”

Val rolls his eyes at his wife’s smirk as he steps out of the bathroom into their bedroom. It already feels weird enough to be without his signature facial hair without her bounding over and rubbing her hands along his jaw with a giggle.

“It’s not funny,” he grumbles, swatting Janel’s hands away, “You know I hate this.”

“But you’ll make such a handsome Hercules,” she says. He can’t help but smirk at that, because she’s been making fun of him for his Disney week routine since he’d been assigned the goofy hero a week ago, but despite the cheesy factor it’s actually not a bad dance. He’s confident that he and his partner, a Twitter comedienne, will take home the night’s top score, but looking the part never hurts.

“I just wish you were playing my Megara.”

Janel grins, pulling him in for a long kiss then pulling away with a hum.

“Your face is so smooth,” she mumbles thoughtfully, a mischievous look in her eye. And he knows what she’s thinking as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth and rolls her hips against his, but his eyes catch the clock on the wall behind her and he sighs.

“Baby we can’t,” he sighs, stepping around her despite her best puppy dog look, “I need to finish getting ready, and you haven’t even showered yet.”

She’s still pouting, but after a glance at the clock doesn’t protest. 

“Rain check?” she asks, “Your brother said he’d babysit Juli tonight so we can have some time to celebrate after the show”

“Sounds good.”

Then her pout disappears as she kisses him on the cheek and pops into the bathroom for her shower. But after just a second the door opens and she sticks her head out again,

“I forgot to ask, can you get Juli up and dressed for me? I have to drop her off at daycare and get to the studio by nine.”

“No problem,” he calls back, blowing her a kiss across the room and earning an appreciative giggle as she closes the door and returns to her shower. 

He finishes getting ready, then stops to look at himself in the mirror before going to wake up Juliet. He rubs his smooth jaw thoughtfully, frowning at his reflection in the mirror. The last time he’d been clean shaven was for his and Janel’s Contemporary routine, nearly four years ago. He’d hated it at the time, but he can’t help but think now that it doesn’t look half bad. And if it gets him that response from Janel, maybe he should think about shaving more often.

He muses on the thought as he walks down the hallway to Juliet’s room, coming in and kneeling next to the toddler’s bed. Juliet is still sound asleep on her back, dark curls fanning out on her pillow like a halo. One arm is stretched up, over her head, while the other is bent with her thumb in her mouth. She looks so peaceful that he takes a moment just to watch her, to drink in the beauty of his perfect little girl, before he puts a hand on her stomach and nudges her gently awake.

“Rise and shine baby girl.”

Juliet doesn’t open her eyes, but her mouth falls into a pout as she swats at her father’s hand.

“No dada,” she whines, “Juli sleep.”

“It’s time to get up Juliet,” he laughs, nudging her a bit more insistently this time. And now she yawns, stretching adorably as her eyes blink open.

Then, in an instant, her face contorts with fear and she scuttles back into the corner of the bed away from Val. He moves towards her to hold her, to ask what’s wrong, and she begins to shriek.

“Bad man!” she shouts, “Bad!”

“Baby it’s Daddy,” Val says, his mind reeling. In his surprise he can’t figure out what is causing her to act like this. He’s never seen her so upset, and when he finally gets a hold of her, pulling her into his arms and cradling her against his chest, she flails and fights him. She’s sobbing now, tears flooding down her cheeks.

“Mama!” she cries, trying to pull out of Val’s arms, “Mamaaaaa!”

“Juli, it’s me, it’s daddy!”

“NOOOO!”

In her struggle Juliet’s hand connects with Val’s face, delivering a slap to his cheek. The skin burns at the contact, and suddenly Val realizes what is happening.

“Baby, Daddy just shaved his face! See?" 

He takes Juliet’s hand, placing it on the soft skin where his beard used to be, but she doesn’t understand.

"MAMAAAAAA!”

“It’s still me Juliet, it’s still Daddy.”

Val groans in frustration. Juliet is becoming more inconsolable by the second, and he can’t figure out how he’s supposed to prove to her that it’s him. So he’s relieved when he hears Janel’s footsteps running down the hallway and into the room.

“Mama!" 

Juliet jumps out of Val’s arms, running to where Janel is standing in the doorway with her towel wrapped around her body. Her body and hair are still soapy, and Val cringes in a silent apology as Juliet wraps herself around Janel’s legs and continues to cry.

"What’s going on?” Janel asks. With the arm not holding her towel she reaches down and picks up Juliet.

“Bad man,” Juliet cries, pointing at Val, “Bad man Mama.”

“She doesn’t recognize me,” Val sighs when he can see that Janel is just as baffled as he was at first. Then her face lights up in realization and she has to bite back a laugh. Juliet looks up at her mother expectantly, as if waiting for her mother to save her from the bad man, and Janel kisses her on the nose.

“It’s okay baby girl,” she coos, “Do you want to come take a shower with Mommy?”

The toddler nods, laying her head against Janel’s chest with a sniffle. And Val feels his heart drop when Janel’s only condolence is a shrug and a poorly concealed grin of amusement before she carries Juliet off with her to go finish her shower.

Left alone on the floor of his daughter’s room all Val can do is sigh. He definitely won’t be going back to baby face again any time soon.