a little bit about me: im 19 years old, and i'm currently in my second year of college studying neuroscience and philosophy. i mostly just write for criminal minds, but i also love ethel cain, community, yellowjackets, romance novels, and indie movies.
౨ৎ some of my frequent tags are elle answers (where i answer my anything and everything that comes across my inbox) and elle yells into the void (where i just yap, sometimes about my writing, mostly about nonsense)
౨ৎ thank you from the bottom of my heart to anyone that interacts with my work! your comments, reblogs, and likes make my day <3
౨ৎ my inbox and messages are always open to chat, request something, or just share your headcanons and thoughts. i love a little chaos!
i promise promise promise i’m working on something that should be out later this week (cough cough momily cough cough) please spare me i had two exams last week and my family was in town this weekend😗🕺
summary: Emily's struggle to say I love you for the first time leads to a rambling rant about soulmates. Requested here!
word count: 0.7k
tags: fluff, more fluff, established relationship, did i mention fluff, also dork emily <3
It starts, like most of Emily’s rants, completely out of nowhere. The two of you are at your apartment, a rare night without a case dragging her away. A space documentary flickers across the TV, though neither of you are really watching. Takeout cartons litter the coffee table. Some half-empty lo mein and a couple of egg rolls gone cold. You’re curled against one end of the couch, Emily stretched out beside you with her long legs crossed at the ankle. It's comfortable. Quiet. Until she sits up. “Hey,” she says suddenly, voice sharp.
You glance over cautiously. “Hey,” you echo.
She pushes her hands through her hair, tucks it behind her ear, then lets it fall again. Fidgeting in the way that you always found adorable.
“You ever think about how some people believe in soulmates?” she blurts.
You blink at her. “Okay… random.”
Emily clears her throat, but her eyes keep avoiding yours. “I mean, not soulmates exactly. Just the idea that, statistically, it shouldn’t be possible to find one person who fits so well. Like, you’ve got billions of people out there, scattered across the world, and somehow two people meet at exactly the right time, in exactly the right place, and it changes everything.”
You squint at her. “Are we workshopping a Hallmark movie right now?”
Her mouth twitches in an almost smile, but she barrels on, words tumbling too quickly. “No, listen. Think about it. The odds are ridiculous. There’s no reason it should happen. It’s almost impossible, and yet…” She trails off, her hands moving vaguely in the air, like the rest of the thought is suspended there.
You can’t help but laugh softly. “Emily, what are you talking about?”
She groans, dragging her palms over her face. “God, I’m explaining this really terribly.”
“Explaining what terribly?” you ask, leaning back, studying her. “Because right now it sounds like you’re giving me a statistics lecture about destiny.”
That earns you a sharp look. “That’s not—” She cuts herself off and shakes her head. “You’re not getting it.”
“Maybe because you’re not saying it,” you reply gently.
The room goes quiet. The TV flickers shadows across her face. Emily looks at you like she’s standing at the edge of something, and she’s terrified to fall. You recognize that look. You’ve seen it on the job, in moments when she throws herself into danger before she can think better of it, but now it’s not a gun or a suspect. It’s you.
“Emily,” you say softly, heart climbing into your throat. “What are you actually trying to say?”
She freezes. For a beat, she doesn’t even breathe. Her jaw works, like she wants to chew the words before they can escape. Her hands twist in her lap—fingers clenching, unclenching. Then finally, in the smallest, roughest whisper, “I’m trying to say I love you.”
Your chest tightens. It’s not like you haven’t imagined hearing it before, fantasized about it, even, but the reality of it knocks the air out of you. Emily Prentiss, master of keeping her walls intact, just handed you the most fragile piece of herself.
Her ears flush pink as she groans into her hands. “God, kill me now.”
It breaks the spell. A laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it. Sliding closer, you nudge your shoulder against hers. “No way. Not after a confession like that.”
She peeks at you through her fingers, wary, waiting for the floor to open beneath her and swallow her whole. You take her hand, gently prying it away from her face until her palm rests in yours. Her skin is warm, trembling slightly.
You lean in, press your forehead against hers, and whisper, “I love you too, dork.”
Her breath hitches. Then, slowly, her smile blooms. Tentative at first, then full and real, softening every line of her face. You squeeze her hand. “For the record,” you murmur, “your soulmate speech? Ten out of ten. Very dramatic. Very on-brand.”
She groans again, this time into your shoulder, but you can feel her laughing against you. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Not a chance.” And when she finally kisses you, slow, soft, and unbearably sweet, you think maybe the impossible odds were worth it.
Character A desperately trying to explain soulmatism*, and fumbling the entire thing, while B’s just… kind of staring, cogs and wheels turning in their head because what on earth brought this on until A just stares back, frustrated, because they’re not getting it and I’m too afraid to say I love you
* you can substitute this with LITERALLY anything else they yap about, this was just the first thing that came to mind
:]
hehe i wrote it in one sitting (granted it's like 700 words) and im posting it tonight!!!
guys pls drop ideas in my ask box!!! i feel like im finally getting into the swing of things back at college and i want to try to write something over the long weekend since i finally have free time.
hey guys! long time no see, and for that i apologize. to be upfront with you all, i was going through a little bit of a rough patch with my anxiety, and wasn’t feeling up to writing or posting. but i’ve made some changes to help prioritize and improve my mental health and i’m hoping to get back to posting on here soon. my move back to college is coming up in a week, so hopefully i’ll be able to start posting again after i get settled into my routine there. thank you to all of my mutuals who have tagged me in things while i’ve been gone. i’ve seen all of the notifications, and i appreciate every single one of you. anyway, here’s to prioritizing our health and taking breaks when needed🤩🩷
summary: Rowan's first outing after getting her driver's license gets soured when she’s wrongly accused of shoplifting. Requested here!
word count: 1.5k
tags: fluff, momily, mama bear emily for the win
It still didn’t feel real. Driving without a parent in the passenger seat, music up just enough to feel it in her chest. Rowan’s license was only four days old, the plastic still stiff and glossy in her wallet, and this was her first real outing behind the wheel without either of her moms.
June swung her legs in the passenger seat, humming along to the radio. “Look, Ro, that dog has a sweater!” she screeched.
Rowan grinned, easing the car to a stop at a red light. “You're making me more nervous, you know.”
June gasped in mock offense. “Why? I’m being so calm. I didn’t even bring snacks this time. No crumbs.”
“Yeah, thanks for that.” Rowan gave her sister a quick glance and a smile.
They were headed to the mall for something small in celebration of Rowan’s license, maybe a new book or that glitter lip gloss June kept eyeing in the store window last week. Just an hour or two. Emily had approved it with a raised eyebrow and a dozen questions about speed limits, parking, and emergency contacts. Rowan had promised to be responsible, and she meant it.
At the mall, Rowan parked carefully, straight between the lines, checked her mirrors twice, and even locked the car manually after June hopped out. She took her role seriously, slipping into big-sister mode with practiced ease.
Inside, it was warm and crowded, filled with the scents of pretzels and perfume. June tugged at her hand, pointing excitedly at the new pop-up shop full of colorful headbands and rings. “Let’s look there first?”
Rowan nodded. “Ten minutes, tops. Then food.”
They stepped inside the store. Everything was small and shiny. June flitted toward a display of charm bracelets. Rowan hung back by the lip gloss, picking one up, then another, checking the price tags and doing the quiet mental math of someone using allowance money.
She didn’t notice the security guard at first. Didn’t see him glance once, then again. Didn’t feel the eyes following her as she reached into her pocket to silence her phone.
Behind her, June giggled and held up a sparkly butterfly ring the size of her eye. Rowan smiled faintly. “Only if it’s under ten bucks.”
“Eight seventy-five,” June reported proudly.
Rowan was about to pull her wallet out when she heard it.
The voice wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t kind, either. She looked up to see a security guard standing near the front of the store. Middle-aged, arms crossed, a radio clipped to his shoulder. “Excuse me, miss.”
She blinked. “Me?”
He nodded slowly, glancing at her bag. “Mind stepping over here for a minute?”
Rowan’s stomach dropped. “Uh… sure?” She motioned for June to stay put and followed the guard to the edge of the store, away from the displays.
He didn’t lower his voice. “You were seen placing merchandise into your bag without paying.”
Rowan blinked. “No, sir, I didn’t. I was checking the price tags.”
The guard nodded like he’d heard that excuse a hundred times. “We take this very seriously. I’m going to need to look in your bag.”
Rowan felt heat rise in her cheeks. “You can look, but I didn’t steal anything.” She unzipped her tote with shaking fingers. Inside: her wallet, a pack of gum, her keys, a phone charger tangled in the corner. No lip gloss. No rings. No merchandise.
The guard inspected it anyway, frowning as if disappointed. “I’m going to have to call someone to come pick you up,” he said. “We don’t release minors without an adult present.”
Rowan’s mouth opened and closed. “What? But I didn’t do anything. You can check the cameras!”
“Miss,” he said flatly, “please don’t raise your voice.”
“I’m not.” Her voice cracked. She looked over her shoulder, heart pounding. June stood near the display, watching with wide eyes. She looked scared.
Rowan swallowed hard. “Okay. I’ll call my mom.” Her hands shook as she reached for her phone. Her fingers didn’t seem to work right as she found Emily’s name in her contacts.
She hit call. It rang once. Twice. Then, Emily answered. “Rowan?”
Rowan's voice came out small. “Mama, can you come to the mall? Please?”
Emily didn’t say much. Just a sharp inhale, the scrape of a chair, then, “I’m on my way.”
It took her twelve minutes to get there. Rowan sat stiffly on a bench just outside the store, arms folded over her chest, phone clutched in one hand like a lifeline. June was beside her, unusually quiet, head resting on Rowan’s shoulder. The security guard stood a few feet away with an air of smug authority, like he’d done a good day’s work.
Then the glass doors swung open. Emily strode into the mall with the kind of energy that made people get out of her way. Hair pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail, sunglasses in one hand, jaw locked. She spotted Rowan immediately.
“Mama,” Rowan breathed.
Emily crossed the space fast, crouched in front of her daughter, and gently brushed the hair from her face. “Are you okay? Did anyone touch you?”
Rowan shook her head, eyes welling. “No. I didn’t do anything. I swear. He said I—”
“I know,” Emily said firmly, eyes flicking to June to check on her. “I believe you.”
Then she stood, turned, and fixed the guard with a look that could’ve frozen fire. “Are you the one who accused my daughter of shoplifting?”
The man straightened slightly. “Yes. We had a report from an employee. I was just following up—”
Emily held up a hand. “Save it. You detained a minor, made an accusation without checking the facts, and embarrassed her in front of half the store. Also, I had to learn about all of this from my daughter because you did not even think to involve a parent until after you questioned her.”
“She was acting suspicious,” he said. “ Kept looking around.”
Her voice was ice. “Did you find anything on her?”
“…No.”
“Then we’re done here.” Emily didn’t wait for permission. She turned back to Rowan, holding out a hand. “Let’s go.”
Rowan stood, her legs shaky. June followed, holding tightly to Rowan’s fingers.
As they walked away, the guard called weakly, “You can file a complaint if you want, but we were just—”
Emily stopped mid-stride and turned, not raising her voice but making sure it carried. “Oh, don’t worry. I will.” Then she walked her daughters out of the store.
—
The car was quiet. Emily hadn’t said much during the walk out of the mall, just one arm around Rowan’s shoulders and the other keeping June close. She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t press. Only when she shifted the car into reverse did she speak, “Seat belts on?”
June clicked hers obediently. Rowan fumbled hers twice before it latched.
Emily pulled out of the lot with the kind of slow, deliberate calm that told Rowan she was trying not to show how angry she still was. They drove in silence for a few blocks, the radio off, air-conditioning humming faintly.
Rowan broke first. “I really didn’t do anything.” Her voice cracked halfway through. She hadn’t meant to say it. It just spilled out. Her throat was tight, her eyes stinging again.
Emily didn’t answer right away. She reached over and took Rowan’s hand in one smooth motion, without taking her eyes off the road. “I know you didn’t.”
Rowan blinked fast. “He looked at me like I was lying. Like I was already guilty.”
Emily’s jaw tightened. “Because some people think they know who you are just by looking. Doesn’t make them right.”
Rowan nodded quickly, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “I was trying so hard to be responsible.”
Emily’s voice was soft now. “You did everything right, Ro. You didn’t yell. You didn’t panic. You called me. That’s all I care about.”
Rowan sniffled. “I thought you’d be mad.”
Emily glanced at her with real surprise. “At you?”
“I don’t know. I was in trouble, kind of.”
“No.” Emily pulled into their street, slowing as they approached the house. “You were mishandled. There's a difference.”
Rowan exhaled shakily, her grip loosening. From the back seat, June spoke up for the first time in a while. “Rowan didn’t even cry. Not even once.”
Emily smiled in the rearview mirror. “That’s because your sister’s a badass.”
Rowan let out a breath that was almost a laugh. Emily parked in the driveway and shut the car off, turning in her seat to face them both.
“You’re not in trouble. You’re not grounded. You’re not banned from the mall forever.” She raised a brow. “Though I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to go back.”
Rowan looked at her. “Can I still drive next week?”
Emily considered it for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. Just maybe somewhere that doesn’t involve mall security.”
Rowan grinned. It didn’t erase the whole afternoon, but it helped a lot. She unbuckled, climbed out of the car, and waited for Emily to join her on the porch, June already bounding ahead to unlock the door.
Emily nudged her gently with her elbow. “You’re a good kid, Ro. Don’t let one idiot make you doubt that.”
ok so i have such a random question that i need to put out there. when you guys are reading x reader fics do you prefer it to be written in past or present tense bc i've been flip flopping back and forth. i know what i prefer writing, but i need to hear the people's opinions. (i'm also using this for research bc i'm starting a multi chapter fic soon and i want to write it in what you guys prefer to read)
summary: A slow, tender night between you and Emily where you find peace and safety wrapped in her arms. Requested here!
word count: 1.6k
tags: fluff, slightly more hurt/comfort than i originally intended, established relationship, no plot just vibes
Somewhere inside Emily’s apartment, a record was playing low, something dreamy and slow, all haze and warmth. You barely got the key all the way in before the door creaked open from the inside. Emily stood there, barefoot, her silver hair loose and falling over one shoulder. She didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you, eyes soft, taking you in.
You weren’t crying, but your face said enough. The stiffness in your shoulders. The way your hands stayed balled in the sleeves of your coat. The kind of quiet that wasn’t peaceful.
Emily didn’t ask. She just opened her arms. And that was it, whatever was holding you together gave out the second you stepped into her. Her arms wrapped around your back, strong and steady, and your face pressed into her collarbone like you belonged there. She smelled like sandalwood and something sweeter underneath. The softness of her t-shirt was warm from her skin.
You didn’t speak. Neither did she. Her hand rose to cradle the back of your head, thumb brushing the fine hairs at your nape, like she needed to be touching you in as many places as possible just to ground you. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It held you both, just like her arms did.
After a while, Emily shifted slightly, leaned down to press a kiss just above your temple. “Hey,” she said softly, a little breath against your skin. “You don’t have to say anything right now.”
Your fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt. You weren’t going to cry. You weren’t. So instead, you nodded. Just once. She pulled back just enough to look at you, brushing her knuckles down your cheek like she was memorizing every detail.
“You wanna stay here?” she asked gently. “Or come lie down?”
You leaned your forehead against hers. Whispered, “Just... here. For a second.”
Emily’s smile was the kind that only ever belonged to you. The one that softened all her edges. She kissed you again, this time slower, her mouth against your cheekbone. Then your jaw. Then your lips, once, like punctuation.
“Okay,” she murmured. “We’ll stay here, then.” She held you a little tighter.
Eventually, your coat ended up draped over the back of a chair. Your bag was somewhere by the door, forgotten. The apartment felt like a bubble, all golden lamplight and the low hum of rain tapping against the windows. The record played on, spinning lazily and slowly from the player in the corner.
You sat curled up on the couch, your knees tucked under you, a blanket over your lap that Emily must’ve brought over without you noticing. You were watching the easy way she moved, and the quiet steadiness in her presence. She was pouring you a glass of wine with one hand, holding her own in the other, still effortlessly composed in that way only she could be.
She caught you staring. “What?” she asked, soft amusement in her voice as she walked back over to you. “You’re looking at me like I just grew wings.”
You shook your head, a slow smile tugging at your lips. “You’re just really beautiful.”
Emily’s eyes softened, like the compliment hit somewhere deep she didn’t always know how to reach. She set the glasses down and held out her hand.
“Come here.”
You blinked. “What?”
She nodded toward the open space between the couch and the window, where the music was still playing, the same slow, echoing dream of a song. “Dance with me.”
Your first instinct was to laugh. “Em, I just cried in your arms for ten minutes. I’m hardly dance-floor ready.”
She didn’t budge. “I’m not asking for a performance. I just want you close.”
You hesitated, then took her hand. Emily pulled you gently into her arms, one hand slipping around your waist, the other lacing your fingers together. Your head fit right under her chin. The rhythm of the music was barely there, more suggestion than beat, but she swayed with you like it was all she needed. You felt your body soften against hers, piece by piece, like each movement was melting something heavy out of you.
“You know,” she said into your hair, voice low, “I think I’ve been waiting my whole life to hold someone like this.”
You looked up at her, heart stuttering. “Like what?” you asked.
Emily brushed her thumb against your cheek. “You feel like home.”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Not without crying again. Instead, you rested your cheek on her shoulder and let yourself sway with her, slow and steady. Her arms tightened around you like she knew exactly what you needed, like she needed it just as much.
—
Later, the two of you were tangled on the couch like it was the only place in the world. The blanket had fallen halfway to the floor, but neither of you moved to fix it. The record had spun into silence, leaving only the gentle hush of rain and the rhythmic sound of Emily’s fingers combing through your hair.
You lay with your head on her chest, legs draped over hers, your body slack with the kind of safety that made your bones ache in relief. Emily’s arm cradled you close, her palm warm against your shoulder, the slow glide of her fingers against your scalp enough to make you want to purr.
“I like your place when it’s like this,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
“Like what?”
“Still. Safe.” You picked at the hem of her shirt idly. “Like we’re in a snow globe.”
She pressed a kiss to the top of your head and didn’t say anything for a moment. Her fingers never stopped moving in your hair, gentle and rhythmic, like she was trying to memorize every strand.
“I used to think I was too used to being alone to ever get this,” she said, voice a little rough.
You tilted your head to look up at her. Her expression was soft, wistful. Lit by the low lamp across the room. “Get what?”
Emily looked down at you, thumb brushing against the curve of your cheekbone. “This. You.” She paused, like she wasn’t sure she should say the next part, but then did anyway. “You’re so open. You have so much love to give.”
You relaxed, cheek pressed back to her chest. Her heartbeat was steady. Soothing.
“I’m not always open,” you said after a moment. “Some days it feels like I’m too much. Or not enough. I don’t know. Just wrong.”
Emily’s hand stilled for a second, then resumed its slow movement. “You’re not wrong,” she said softly, firmly. “You’re human and you fit me better than anything ever has.”
You closed your eyes. Tried to hold on to the way that felt, the way she said it like it was just true, and always would be. After a long pause, you said, quieter now, “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”
Emily tilted her head, brushing her lips against your temple.
“You didn’t get lucky,” she said. “You walked in, you looked at me with those eyes, and I was done for. That’s not luck. That’s fate.”
You smiled into her skin, soft and quiet. And although you didn’t say it out loud, you thought it, I love you more than anything.
Emily must’ve felt it anyway, because she kissed your hair again and whispered, “I love you too, baby. So much it aches.”
The world had narrowed to the warm press of her body beneath yours, the faint tick of the rain against the windowpane, and the gentle way her fingers had slowed in your hair, still stroking, but lazier now. Drowsy.
You were somewhere between awake and asleep, nestled in the space where her heartbeat thrummed under your ear and everything else felt like static. “Still with me?” Emily murmured, voice rasped by the hour, half-amused.
You hummed. “Barely.”
She chuckled, low in her chest. “Did I bore you to sleep?”
“Mm-mm. You’re my favorite lullaby.”
Emily let out a soft breath, almost a laugh. Her hand moved down to your arm, rubbing slow, steady circles into the skin just below your sleeve. You opened your eyes just enough to glance up at her. Her head was tilted back, her gaze unfocused on the ceiling, one hand absently tracing your skin like she didn’t even realize she was doing it. Like she couldn’t not touch you.
There was something so rare in the way she looked at you when she finally met your eyes, like she wasn’t seeing anyone else, and hadn’t for a long time.
“You make it really easy to stay,” you whispered.
“I want you to,” she whispered back. “Every night. Every morning. As long as you want me.”
You blinked slowly. Your whole body felt heavy with comfort. “I always want you.”
Emily’s eyes shimmered in the dim light, and for a moment, she looked like she might cry, but then she pulled you in tighter instead, holding you like the promise itself.
“I’ve got you,” she murmured. “You’re safe.”
Your breathing slowed to match hers, your hand curling lightly in the fabric at her waist. The rain outside fell steadier now, as if in rhythm with the hush between you.
You felt her kiss your forehead, her lips lingering just long enough to make your chest ache.
“I love you,” you whispered.
“I know,” she said. “I love you more.” And then you were asleep.
Emily stayed awake a little longer, just enough to brush a few strands of hair from your face and press her lips there again, more whisper than kiss.
“You’re my favorite thing,” she breathed.
Then she let her eyes close, her arms still wrapped around you like a promise.
hi lovely people! ik i’ve been slightly mia over the last few days, but just want to say i will be back and working through my lists of requests by tomorrow. i just got back from my vacation and have to catch back up on life a bit first!
summary: When Rowan wakes up from a nightmare and she can't find you and Emily, she enlists the help of her Auntie Pen. Requested here!
word count: 1.6k
tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, momily, fem!reader
Rowan woke up with a gasp, like the air had been stolen out of her lungs. Her room was too dark, even with the little blue nightlight glowing faintly in the corner, and her bed felt wrong, too cold on one side where she must’ve rolled over in her sleep. She blinked at the ceiling, heart beating way too fast, and clutched Bunbun the bunny tighter against her chest.
She didn’t remember the dream exactly, just the feeling. That heavy, twisty kind of scared, like something was chasing her and no one was coming to help. That she was alone. Lost or maybe forgotten. She stayed really still for a moment, trying to hear the usual sounds, but the hallway was quiet. No soft footsteps. No low voices. No light from under the bedroom door across the hall.
“Mama?” she called out, just above a whisper. Nothing. She sat up a little straighter. “Mommy?” she tried again. Still no answer.
Rowan rubbed at one eye with the heel of her hand, sniffled once, and pushed the covers off her legs. Her pajama pants were twisted around her knees from all the tossing and turning, and the floor felt cold when her toes touched it.
She slid off the bed, dragging Bunbun along by one arm. The nightlight didn’t help much. It made weird shadows on the walls and didn’t light up the hallway at all. Still, she padded out into the dark, trying not to cry yet.
The big bedroom door was open. Empty. No one in the big bed, no clothes on the floor, no sleepy mommies. The bathroom light was off, too.
Rowan checked the living room next, peeking over the arm of the couch like she always did when she was playing hide-and-seek. Nobody there.
The kitchen was the scariest. The moon made strange patterns on the tile, and the fridge made its low humming noise like it always did, but everything else was still. Too still.
And that’s when she started crying. Quiet at first, just little hiccups and big gulps of air, but it felt big. Like the dream had snuck out of her brain and was hiding in the corners of the house. She turned in a slow circle, her voice finally cracking.
“Mama?” she called again, louder this time. “Mommy?” No one answered. She hugged Bunbun close and whispered, “I think they got took.” Her eyes burned. Rowan wiped her nose with Bunbun’s ear.
She didn’t like feeling like this—small and way too full of scared feelings. Her cheeks were hot and her hands were cold, and even though she was standing in the middle of her own kitchen, it didn’t feel safe without her moms there.
That’s when she remembered Auntie Pen always said Rowan could call her any time. Even if it was late. Even if it was silly. Even if she was scared.
Rowan climbed up carefully onto the couch, one knee at a time, and stretched out across the cushions until her fingers touched the tablet on the side table. It was a little heavy, and the screen was dark, but she knew how to turn it on. Her moms had shown her lots of times.
It lit up in her lap, and she tapped the pink heart with Auntie Pen’s picture like she’d been told. It rang once. Twice.
Then Penelope’s face filled the screen, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy pink scrunchie, glasses slipping a little down her nose. The background behind her was softly lit. “Rowan?” she said instantly, her voice going all warm and gentle. “Pumpkin, what’s going on, sweetheart?”
Rowan’s bottom lip wobbled. “I waked up and they’re gone,” she said, voice breaking. “Mama and Mommy are gone and I looked in all the places and I think they got taken or lost or maybe they forgot—”
“Oh baby girl, no no no,” Penelope said, cutting in fast but soft. “Shhh, I’ve got you. I promise, no one forgot you.”
Rowan sniffled hard. “I looked in the bed and the couch and the kitchen. They’re not there.”
“Okay, okay. That was very smart of you,” Penelope said, nodding encouragingly. “You did all the right things. That’s a very big girl move, calling me.”
Rowan curled in a little tighter on the couch, still clutching her bunny. Her tears were quieter now, but her breathing still came in hiccups.
“Did you check the office?” Penelope asked gently.
Rowan blinked at the hallway. “The door is closed.”
Penelope smiled kindly. “Mmhmm. That sounds like a Mommy and Mama hideout to me. You think maybe they’re in there with the door closed so they didn’t wake you up?”
“I don’t know…” Rowan said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Do you want to check?” Penelope tilted her head. “I’ll stay right here. Promise.” Rowan was quiet for a second. Then she nodded. “Okay, Roro. Take me with you.”
She climbed off the couch carefully, still holding the tablet and padded back down the hall, slower this time. The office door was just a little bit open at the bottom. She hadn’t noticed that before.
She stood in front of it for a second, breathing slow, like her mommies always taught her to do when she felt scared. Then she pushed the door open. It creaked just a little as she pushed it.
Inside, papers were spread across the floor like a game, and Emily was sitting cross-legged in the middle of them, glasses on, pen in her mouth. You were curled up on the little loveseat, blanket over your legs, a mug in your hand. You both looked up at the exact same time.
Emily’s pen dropped to the floor. “Roro?”
And just like that, everything cracked open. Rowan let out a big, gasping sob and ran forward, tablet still clutched in one hand and Bunbun in the other. Emily was already on her knees with her arms wide open by the time Rowan crashed into her, wrapping both arms around her mama’s neck like she’d never let go again.
“Baby,” Emily whispered, hugging her tight. “Oh, baby, what happened?”
Rowan buried her face in Emily’s shoulder and cried harder. “I thought you were gone!”
You were beside them in an instant, hands smoothing Rowan’s hair, kisses pressed on the top of her head. “Oh, sweet girl,” you murmured. “We’re so sorry. We didn’t know you woke up.”
“I checked all the places,” Rowan hiccuped. “The kitchen and the couch and the bed. The door was closed.” Her voice cracked again on the last word.
Emily pulled back just enough to cup Rowan’s face. “We were trying not to wake you,” she said softly. “We didn’t mean to scare you, lovebug.”
“We’re always here,” you said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Even if a door’s closed.”
Rowan nodded miserably, then looked down at the tablet still glowing faintly in her hand. “I called Auntie Pen,” she mumbled. “She said to check the office.”
Emily smiled, a little wet around the eyes now. “Smart girl. Can I see?”
Rowan turned the screen so they could both see Penelope’s face, still on the call, still watching with shiny eyes.
“Hi, sugarplum,” she said, voice thick with emotion. “I told you they were just a door away.”
Emily leaned in so Penelope could see her too. “Thanks for being there, Pen.”
“Always,” Penelope said. “Now go get that baby wrapped up in a blanket and smothered in love, please. I’ll sleep better knowing she’s warm and snuggled.”
“You heard her,” you said, already reaching for Rowan. “Come here, baby. You need some cocoa and couch cuddles.”
Rowan sniffled, her face already calming, and let herself be scooped up again. She still held Bunbun in one hand and clutched your shirt in the other, finally starting to feel like the nightmare was gone for good.
“We’ll leave the door open next time,” Emily whispered to her.
“And I’ll knock next time,” Rowan whispered back.
Emily smiled. “Deal.”
—
Five minutes later, Rowan sat snug between her moms, wrapped in her favorite fuzzy blanket. Her arm was looped around Emily’s waist, and her cheek rested against the soft cotton of your sweatshirt.
Emily held a small mug of warm cocoa with both hands and helped Rowan guide it to her lips. “Tiny sips,” she whispered.
Rowan sipped. It was sweet and milky and made her tummy feel warm all the way down. Her eyes were heavy now. The kind of heavy that came after crying, after being held close, after hearing again and again that she was safe.
“I thought the dream was real,” she mumbled, half-asleep already.
“I know,” you said, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “Dreams can feel really real, but no matter what happens in them, we’re always right here.”
Emily moved to tuck Rowan’s hair behind her ear. “Even when the doors are closed.”
“Even if it’s late,” you added. “Even if we’re quiet. We’re never far away.”
Rowan nodded a little. Her eyes fluttered closed, then opened again just enough to say, “I think I was brave.”
“The bravest,” Emily said without hesitation.
“The absolute bravest,” you echoed, smiling.
Rowan yawned so big her whole face scrunched up and sighed as she curled tighter against you and Emily. Then she slept, safe between the people who would always find her, even in the middle of a bad dream.
big day today! aside from the cme finale, today also marks one month since i started this blog AND i just hit 100 followers!!!
a big, sappy thank you to everyone, especially those who have taken the time to comment, repost, or share something in my inbox! this little community has brought me so many happy moments over the last month (and a year or so that i’ve been lurking around). anyway just wanted to recognize the milestone. keep the requests coming. i’m loving all the ideas! also if anyone wants to be friends please please please shoot me a message! i would love to interact with yall more!
