FANDOMS. the pitt. once upon a time. grey’s anatomy. the walking dead. glee. almost any disney show. one tree hill. rizzoli and isles. law and order svu. criminal minds. manifest. the 100. pitch perfect. shameless. yellowjackets. agents of shield. pretty little liars. the fosters. degrassi. switched at birth. american horror story. ask if you’re unsure!

MEDIA. my ao3 is reginaswanmills (currently revamping). my tiktok where i post oc edits is sntnalpz.

it starts in the wilderness. after the loss of shauna’s baby, the loss of jackie, the loss of whatever innocence shauna had left. akilah and mel are scared of her, tai and natalie aren’t. mari tries to be brave, but sometimes she flinches at shauna’s harsh tone. sometimes she provokes her just to see what’ll happen. maybe it’ll tip shauna over the edge, maybe she’ll snap mari like a twig, maybe mari only does it because it makes her feel better to see somebody as angry and as miserable as her. but somewhere along the way, mari and shauna end up being buddies. because mari is very obviously so little. shauna can tell. it reminds her a tiny bit of jackie, but mari is so much more sassier. after realizing that mari is picking fights purposely, shauna comes to the conclusion that mari needs someone to take care of her. to protect her.

— shauna always makes mari a plate of food. shauna’s a good multi-tasker, so she can easily make her own plate and mari’s when dinner is being served. she knows what mari will eat and what she won’t, and what she can push mari to eat with a few firm looks. mari would never come sit at the table for dinner at all, too busy running around, if it weren’t for shauna.

— during the beginning of their dynamic, shauna scolds mari for going off on her own a few times, which ends with both of them in tears. shauna was scared of losing mari, another baby, another little girl. but they put in some safety measurements and make their dynamic known to everyone. if mari is going off to play with someone nearby, that person can let shauna know so that shauna doesn’t panic.

— mari fights against things at first because she doesn’t want to be babied. but at the same time, she so clearly does want it. she misses the safety, comfort, and warmth of home. she’s one of the only girls that openly talks about missing her family. shauna will try to incorporate something from mari’s stories if she can. if mari talks about a movie her and her cousin once watched, shauna will get van and some of the girls to act the movie out.

— shauna is also not the overly coddler. if mari falls down and isn’t seriously injured, shauna is the type to encourage her to get back up, shake it off, and keep going. shauna is very big into fitness and keeping active; she’s always coming up with games and activities based around movement for little mari.

— mari likes to play doctor a lot, because the doctor is okay for her if it’s fake. she has a space nearby that is her little clinic. she either pretends the pinecones and rocks are her patients, or she makes the other girls pretend to be her patients. shauna just sits back and watches, amused.

i think baran would be a good possible choice. baran may notice that mel is the only pittling without a caregiver (trinity with yolanda, victoria with cassie, dennis with robby, emma with dana), and baran would snatch little mel right up. baran would love to have such a sweet, smart baby. baran’s favorite thing about mel is how her brain works — which is nice, because mel often hates how her brain works, and she’s spent most of her life being told how wrong her brain is, so it’s nice to finally have some reassurance.

— baran is very big on flashcards. she makes a set to help mel with identifying emotions, and she makes some fun ones because mel loves to be quizzed when she’s little. mel aces the quizzes every time, and baran always reacts ridiculously proud of her. she tries to offer stickers, but she finds that mel actually likes gold star charts instead. that works a lot better. instead of sticking it to her arm or her shirt, mel puts the sticker on a chart, and she loves to show her chart to her friends when they come over.

— mel doesn’t accept gifts easily. she insists she doesn’t need anything, and that friendships / relationships aren’t based on gift-giving. baran is the mama who loves to buy gifts. she tries not to go overboard with it because she knows mel will feel embarrassed and overwhelmed, but she manages to sneak in a gift or two every once in awhile. mel’s favorite gift ever is the weighted sloth stuffed animal.

— while in her adult headspace one day at work, mel overhears that baran and robby got into a huge fight. the rumor mill is already started: doctor al-hashimi is handing in her resignation. imagine baran’s surprise when mel finds her in tears. she’s never known mel to be so emotional in either headspace. this is the moment baran learns that mel needs more reassurance than she may let on. (also the moment where mel learns that she cannot trust hospital gossip.)

— mel and baran are both very professional / official people. once they realize their dynamic is pretty serious, they draw up a contract.

— baran likes to capture mel’s playful moments on video secretly at home, because it’s rare to see mel so playful and in her own little world. in most of these videos, mel has her hair in a loose braid, way looser than the version she does for work, or completely down. baran’s favorite style is when mel lets her hair down, because it means mel is relaxed enough to not worry about it (not worrying if it looks okay, but more of worrying if it’s feeling uncomfortable).

— mel often thinks she’s being difficult because she feels like she’s so picky. baran reassures her that’s not the case, and everyone has their own preferences. mel always feels like the odd duck out. baran reminds her that all of mel’s friends have their own special interests and quirks too.

The first time Emma had been navigating the Enchanted Forest, she had been in survival mode. She’d also been running on high adrenaline and anxiety, having just discovered that her birth parents were alive and well — the literal Snow White and Prince Charming. Her son had been in the hospital; the boy who’d somehow wormed his way into her heart, had made all of her protective instincts rise to the surface, and had shown her that she was capable of love. Family aside, she’d also been thinking of how Regina was doing. 

With Henry stewing in his turmoil against his mother and David seething in anger, Emma knew that nobody else would protect Regina from the townspeople with pitchforks and fire-stakes. Emma didn’t know her father well enough to be reassured that he would have Regina’s best interest at heart, especially not when he’d just came to the realization that she was responsible for the twenty-eight year pause on his life. Mary Margaret didn’t understand why she was so concerned about Regina. Not after all the bitching and complaining Emma had done when they were roommates in the loft. But that had been weeks ago, before Emma had seen Regina’s crumpled form sobbing over Henry’s hospital bed, dripping snot and tears into the blue plaid blanket on the end, clutching his worn out teddy bear. 

Emma had cared somewhat about Regina then — and Mary Margaret did too, even if she didn’t want to admit it until they were standing in front of the woman who’d been responsible for Regina’s entire downfall. 

Cora. 

Just the thought of her name sent a punch to Emma’s gut. On more than one occasion, she’d made herself sick thinking about Regina’s childhood. In a golden-twirled vision sent to her by Rumple, a young girl in a pale blue dress, with a light blush dusting her cheeks, a horse brooch pinned to the strap of her too-tight corset. That was the image Emma kept replaying in her head when they’d accused her of murdering Archie. Regina had been innocent, as pure as snow, before Cora had corrupted her. Regina had been marked for light at birth the same way Emma had been marked for darkness. But in a cruel twist of fate, they’d both ended up on a different path. 

Emma had become the Savior to defeat the Evil Queen, but Regina had become the Evil Queen to defeat the Queen of Hearts. Her own mother had acted out disgustingly violent fantasies with Regina until the Evil Queen had put a stop to it. If Regina hadn’t become something dark, Cora would’ve ended up consuming her. 

She was never more grateful that Regina was just Regina now, when they were hiding behind a yellow-stained cottage somewhere in the northern part of the Enchanted Forest. The geographical layout was completely lost on her, but not her companion. Regina was crouched beside her, heeled boots caked with dirt, biting down hard on her bottom lip. Her eyes were squeezed shut, almost as if she was stopping a pained expression from crossing her features. 

She’d do anything to keep Emma from seeing her real feelings, apparently. 

“Regina, what is it?” She asked, again, for what felt like the fourteenth time. If being a witch didn’t work out for her, Emma was willing to bet that Regina could pass as a psychic because she seemed to know a lot of things that she didn’t say. “What are you thinking?” 

Irritation furrowed between Regina’s brows. Her forehead was glistening with sweat. Emma stared at the sweat for approximately six seconds before looking away, around the corner of the cottage. It reminded her too much of the way Regina had looked after they’d pulled her off the electrocution table. She needed to keep watch. Any one of the Enchanted Forest residents could pop up from behind and alert the entire village to their very modern-day appearance. 

“Are you ever quiet, Swan?” 

At least they were back to that now. Swan, gruff and casual and unprofessional. Typically barked out when she’d done something to annoy her partner-in-crime. 

“Sorry,” she sighed, but she didn’t feel all that remorseful. She’d be more sorry for whomever had sent them through this cursed back-to-the-past portal when Regina got her hands on them. 

Her eyes fluttered back open, blinking rapidly a few times, trying to rid the worry off her face. Her skin looked soft and dewy. It would be too easy for Emma to reach out, cup her chin, rub her thumb reassuringly across a gentle cheekbone. She refrained from it. She didn’t want to give Regina any reason to start yelling and draw attention to them. “The Mysterious Gorge is about twenty miles that way,” Regina explained, pointing to the left of them. Emma saw nothing but a smaller, slightly darker forest. “It’s full of things you don’t want to see.” 

Emma felt a tiny bit of offense root in her chest. “I’ve seen ogres before, Regina.” 

She’d even relayed the story of battling one with her newfound mother to Regina over hard apple cider one night. It’d been a night where Henry had gone to bed early, and Emma’s belly was still warm from the lasagna, and Regina’s hand had landed somewhere on her upper thigh when she’d thrown her head back with a laugh. A beautiful sound that Emma had never heard before. She’d felt her own eyes go hazy that evening, watching the rare carefree moments Regina had allowed herself. 

“Not just ogres.” Regina sounded clipped. “Eagles the size of Maleficent. Snakes the size of trees. Creatures you haven’t imagined in your worst nightmares.” When Emma winced and dropped her gaze to Regina’s hands, she heard a slightly lighter tone enter her voice. A more teasing one, the one she had when she was amused by Emma’s antics. “You didn’t think life was all dandelions and pixie-dust here, did you?”

Emma gave a tiny shrug. Sometimes, she felt dumb when everyone was talking about the good ol’ days around the dinner table. Henry always listened with fascination, wanting to know every single detail: the pretty starry skies in the winter, the sound of fresh waterfalls with hidden gems in it, the hundreds of different breeds of simple animals like cows and pigs, the way silverware could talk for the right person. Not her, though. She felt herself shuddering every time her parents reminisced, especially when nobody else seemed to notice the way Regina tensed up.

The only time Emma ever truly listened to stories from the past was if Regina was the one speaking about it. Regina rarely made her feel small in a bad way. She took the time to explain things that her and Henry didn’t understand, with a patient tone that could rival the best preschool teacher in Storybrooke Elementary. In return, Emma casually explained things like credit cards and subscription accounts — specifically with a hand on Regina’s waist, leaning closer than necessary, while Regina squinted down at a tablet with glasses on the bridge of her nose. They helped each other out. But sometimes, especially under distress, Regina reverted back to her old ways of defense. She hadn’t picked up on coping tools as fast as she had software information. 

“I know you guys lived a hard life,” Emma said, lifting her eyes to meet Regina’s again. There was something swirling in them that she couldn’t place. Not anything that made fear stir in Emma, but something that made her want to reach out and hold her hand. She didn’t though. She wouldn’t, not until they were jumping back through a portal to home. “This place doesn’t seem easy.” 

“Your mother had it lucky,” Regina insisted. “I had it lucky.”

Emma knew that had to be somewhat self-deprecating. How that was even possible without proper plumbing and cushy toilet paper, she didn’t understand. Snow White may have been raised in a world of luxury, but Regina Mills was not. Not when her mother was a monster grooming her to be a monster, and her father was too much of a coward to take a hit for her, and her supposed mentor was leering from around every corner in a sickly shade of green while his fingers itched to pluck her ripe from the stem. 

Before she could voice anything, Regina continued. Her eyes locked onto Emma’s this time — a level of unwavering seriousness in them that Emma felt shake her to her core. “There are children who starved to death, while I could eat whenever I wanted and your mother sat on a throne, hand-fed. There are children who were eaten by these creatures, limb by limb, bone by bone. Women who were kept as cattle, tortured by insane doctors—Whale.” Emma felt her insides twist at Regina’s pause, bile rising inside of her. “Even this place. They are poor, but they are lucky. Some people did not have a cottage.”

Emma leaned her head back against the wall. The back of her neck suddenly felt hot. She wished she had a hair-tie around her wrist. “I get it, Regina.” 

She nearly jerked upright when she felt Regina’s warm hand come into contact with her shoulder. “I’m not saying this to scare you, Emma.” 

“So that’s just a bonus?” 

“No.” Regina squeezed the red cuff of her jacket. “I don’t want you to be scared.” 

Emma tried to focus on controlling her breathing, the slight increasing rising and falling of her chest. “Well, when you talk about this place so dreamingly, I would’ve never known.” There was a sarcastic edge to her voice. She chanced a glance to her right, but she couldn’t even take pleasure in the way Regina’s eyebrow raised in warning. It wasn’t the time to test her. 

“I never made it sound like a dream,” Regina insisted. “That was your mother.” 

“Okay.” There was a tiny warning note in her own voice now. Although Snow and Regina remained on mostly decent terms these days, even having weekly lunches and occasionally going to Storybrooke yard sales together, Regina had a tendency to blame Snow for things whenever she’d been put in a bad mood. Snow mostly took it with patience now, calmly explaining that Regina had nobody else to lash out at, nobody else that she trusted enough to see the ugly parts of her and still love her. “I never knew it had anything bigger than ogres here,” she said, in an attempt to redirect them. 

She watched as Regina took a deep breath. Her blouse rose and fell, appearing calmer than what Emma knew she was. “You have nothing to fear. My magic can contain almost anything around us.” 

“I hope that’s true,” Emma sighed. She allowed herself a few more seconds of reprieve, leaning back against the wall, before pushing herself forward and peeking around the corner. A wide open field rolled out in front of the cottage, with a small pen of chickens, and a barn opposite the direction of the wild creatures Regina had told her about. There were plenty of people around — all talking, laughing, moving around each other with such a happy nature, Emma would’ve never guessed they would meet their doom in due time. “Maybe we should ask them for direction, or at least a bathroom.” 

“Absolutely not. Do you want to get caught?” Emma whipped back around to look at Regina. In addition to the sweat, her face had also taken on a ghostly pale shade. When Emma reached out with concern to touch her closest kneecap, Regina shifted her leg away. “I’m fine, Swan. Focus.” 

Emma’s hand dropped to the ground, and her eyebrows shot up, incredulous. “On what?” 

“The name of that barn.” Regina lifted her pointer finger again. This time, to the corner of the dark brown roof that they could see from the crouched position. “It should be written on the top, under the window. I can’t see it.” 

Emma had to lean forward again, wobbling slightly. She squinted, but she was eventually able to make it out. “Colter,” she read. She gave a tiny huff before she sat back, eyes still trying to recall if she’d ever seen the name in loopy white handwriting before. “I don’t remember that name in a Disney movie.” When she finally turned back to Regina, her heart ached at the expression on her face. Mayor Mills didn’t often show nervousness. Her wide brown eyes, the way she sucked her top lip in and sank her teeth into her bottom, she looked like she would’ve fallen backwards completely if she weren’t positioned in on her side against the cottage. “What’s wrong?” 

She had to be patient. It took Regina a few moments to collect herself.