Alley is posting Once Upon a Time content? What? Yes, but please don't get used to it, it won't last—or at least, it won't continue any time soon. OUAT is my absolute comfort show, and I adore it.

I am not a SwanQueen shipper BUT I do love them as co-parents. ParentSwanQueen? Is that a thing? Idk. But here is a little Imagine snippet from Henry's point of view. Enjoy!

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Regina's kitchen. Sometime shortly after Elsa's arrival. The island is littered with newspapers and school supplies. A blue poster-board has several articles and photos already taped to it. Thirteen year-old Henry sits on the ground, off to the side, attempting to be inconspicuous and playing his Gameboy—though his eyes aren't looking at the screen.

Mom and Mom are laughing. Emma is leaning on the kitchen island, her white tank top flecked with stains and her jeans smeared with hand prints. Regina stands up straight, but her right hip is popped out to the side, and her relaxed smile tells me she's happy, not on her guard. Her eyes are cast down, not in shame or thought or fear, but in demure…can I say flirtation? Let's call it comfort. Either way, she's purposefully avoiding eye contact, as if the windows to her soul would reveal the unsaid.

I kinda cherish these moments—ya, mostly because times of peaceful togetherness are so rare, but also because I get out of doing a lot of homework I don't want to do. This time it's a collage of newspaper clippings. We're supposed to—okay, I'm supposed to make a collage of articles and pictures that represent me or my family.

And I have a big family.

I mean, I'm an only child…for now…

Henry takes a peek at his moms, knowing that someone who has adopted once is likely to adopt again.

Who knows, a mom who's birthed a baby is probably also likely to birth another baby. Right?

Henry shudders.

I don't really want to think about that though. Health class taught us about all that…unpleasantness. I know my dad died not that long ago, but they weren't really together, and Emma seems to be adjusting well. Besides, we learned about families with two moms (or dads) and how they get a donor or adopt an embryo, or like my mom adopted an already-made baby.

Henry giggles at framing adoption as "ready made" babies.

Like Lego models you can buy and not have to build yourself.

Anyway, like I said, I don't want to think about that. Who cares anyway? Family isn't blood—my great-grandfather Peter Pan is proof of that. And me and my mom, of course. Family is people who love each other.

Each of my mom's has a glass of wine, but I know it isn't the alcohol making them smile and giggle. Emma's no lightweight, but I know her tipsy smile. And my other mom doesn't get tipsy. Ever. It's probably magic, or maybe she's too in-charge to lose control.

Henry's face falls.

Or maybe, she's never been comfortable enough—or safe enough—with people to lose control.

But I don't have to worry about the past, or the future, because they have each other.

It isn't the alcohol making them smile.

My mom has already taken her heels off and thrown her blazer off. She's cutting out an article about grandpa's shop. My other mom cuts out an article about his and grandma's—oops, Belle's—wedding. Of course, that was several minutes ago; she's gotten distracted flirt—chatting, chatting with my other mom. My mom. Madre numero uno? Or would a birth mother be mom number one? Maybe I should just call them by their names? They're both "mom," but that gets complicated.

"I'm just saying," says Regina, "I know Rumple. Belle is different. Or he's different, with her I mean. His personality might say he's a top, but now that they're married…"

"Regina!" Emma half-whispers half-shouts, cracking up the whole time. She takes another drink to drown the images from her mind. "Not while the kid's here, would ya?" she whispers all too loudly. And with that, they're both laughing again.

"Oh shoot," says Regina. She holds up the article about Gold's shop, she's cut right through it.

"Eh, nothing some tape can't fix," says Emma, reaching for the Scotch roll.

Regina sips her wine in agreement. Emma sets down the tape and reaches out to take the article, now in two pieces. Her two hands close around Regina's one; they both freeze for a moment. Regina pulls the glass away from her lips; she keeps her gaze steady and straight ahead, refusing to show any sign of…anything. But Emma is staring at Regina. Her face is calm, eyes earnest and asking, and I swear I can see the smile in her eyes. Is she waiting for something?

The moment is over too soon. Emma pulls her hands away, quickly, taking the article with them. She clears her throat and tapes the article together on the blue poster-board.

"You know, it's nice to see so many articles about normal things," says Emma. "Pumpkin weekends. Bed and Breakfast deals. Petty vandalism. Weddings. Births and birthdays. Not like the cities I'm used to."

"Ya, being cursed does that to a town," says Regina, voice low. She sets her arms down on the island and leans against it.

"Hey," says Emma. She reaches out and places a hand across Regina's wrist. "Don't worry about the past."

Regina finally looks up at Emma. They're gazing into each others' eyes now. They're both so different, but their pain is the same. So much loss, so much betrayal; they relate to each other so well. Snow and David might be Emma's parents, but they haven't faced betrayal like my moms; the Charmings are so trusting, and don't have to be afraid of assuming the best in people.

Oh shoot, I'm staring. I look back down to my Gameboy so I don't ruin the moment. By the time I look up again, they're both cutting out articles, looking down at newspaper and paper scraps—but they're both smiling.

I smile too. I'm probably seeing something that isn't there. I know I shouldn't be thinking about them together. I know it's unrealistic, that even my fairytale life isn't that convenient. And I know Regina can't be with her granddaughter—even if Emma is just her step-granddaughter, that's still really, really, really weird, even by my family's standards.

But I love my family. I love the three of us together. Even if I had my mom and dad together for a short time, they weren't really "together." Neal and Emma, even if she lies about her feelings for him, even if she doesn't lie about her feelings, weren't true love. Even a kid like me can see that. So if they weren't together romantically, and we were still happy together as a family, the same applies to my moms.

My two moms.