rugrats two

  • Rugrats in Paris: Hey Chuckie's mom's dead
  • Rugrats in Paris: Did you know that Chuckie's mom is dead?
  • Rugrats in Paris: Chuckie has no mom
  • Rugrats in Paris: Mrs. Finster is dead
  • Rugrats in Paris: Chas Finster doesn't have a wife
  • Rugrats in Paris: Because she's dead
  • Rugrats in Paris: Did I mention that Chas Finster's wife and Chuckie Finster's mom is dead?
To Be Young And In Love

Originally posted by madelyne-pryor

Pairing:  Alex Summers x reader

Summary:  You and Alex decide in the spur of the moment to elope

Words Count: 1,113

Genre: fluff

Notes:  This is just a fic that’s been tumbling around in my mind, plus Alex is the perfect American Dreamboat™ and you cannot convince me otherwise. I wrote it with Lana Del Rey’s  song ‘Love’ in mind and I feel like you have to listen to it while reading to get the full affect. 


       It was a warm sunny summer day at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. One of those days where it’s almost unbearably warm, only being saved by a few chance breezes now and then. You lay next to your boyfriend in the field under a tree, watching rays of sunshine break through the canopy of leaves. You had spent all afternoon like this, filling the time with hypothetical questions with no real answer and the sounds of soft laughter. You watched as the sunlight cascaded over Alex’s golden locks, the way it made his steely blue eyes light up in the most picturesque way.  A natural silence falls between you two, you make eye contact. Your hand reaches for his as you entwine your fingers, savoring this moment. It was simple but blissful. You didn’t need anything special, days like this are what would hold you through the future, the tiny things that make you love each other. Alex smiles a blinding smile and you saw a flash of mischief in those blue eyes.

  “Let’s get married.”

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Finders Keepers

Stanley Pines hadn’t really planned on kids, but then, they managed to find him anyway.

A little Father’s Day tribute (a day late, whoops) to not just a great dad uncle, but the greatest uncle!

Soon I’ll be sixty years old, will I think the world is cold
Or will I have a lot of children who can warm me?

-Lukas Graham, Seven Years

Stan Pines always figured he would have kids someday. Sometime after his “ew, girls are icky” phase and the following “okay, girls ain’t so bad,” yet before the “well shit, you know what, guys are A-ok in my book, too.”

Having kids seemed the thing to do when you grew up. What usually happened, Filbrick would grumble, whether you planned for them or not.

Stan didn’t necessarily believe that to be the case; regardless, eventually having a rugrat or two was what he wanted, expectations be damned. Babysitting his nephew had given him an appreciative stance on kids. Just the way a baby looked at you, like you were sun and lit up the whole world with your presence alone, that was staggering to Stan, unlike anything he had ever felt.

Not wanting kids was fine, too, as Stan pointed out when Ford expressed his disinterest in spawning any of his own. As always, the brothers were more different than alike, identical or no. Stan pondered if that was the way it went with all siblings.

(“Fatherhood would simply be a major distraction to my research. In moderation, children can be fun company, of course; but they’re also messy, loud, disruptive, and desire a lot of attention.”

“Geez, Sixer, sound like yer describin’ me,” Stan snorted.

“Exactly my point.”

Stan scoffed, socking his smirking brother in the arm. “Shuddup, nerd. Keep talkin’ like that and Uncle Ford won’t be invited to my mansion for Thanksgiving.”


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Try, Try Again (Part 2)

Originally posted by hunterchesters

Summary: Dean and reader’s babies arrive…

Part 1

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,300ish

Warnings: none

A/N: Some fluffy Winchester family for ya…

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Sarada pouted in her mother’s arms as Sakura walked up to the doorstep of the Seventh’s house. She put Sarada down before knocking on the door. As they waited, Sakura looked down at her frowning daughter, now five years old. “Sarada, please don’t make that face,” Sakura said, “it might stay that way forever.”

“No it won’t,” Sarada huffed, but loosening her face to reduce the power of her pout. “Why do I have to stay here? Can’t I go with Mama?”

Just then, Naruto opened the door and smiled at his pink-haired friend. “Sakura-chan!” He then knelt down to look at the pouting girl. “Hey, Sarada-chan, how are you?” Naruto offered his hand to her.

“Good,” Sarada said shyly, placing her hand in his.

He stood and turned to Sakura. “Leaving today?”

Sakura nodded. “Duty calls at the tower,” she said quietly, making sure Sarada couldn’t hear, which wasn’t a problem since she had focused all of her attention on a passing ladybug. “Will you guys be okay here?”

Naruto nodded enthusiastically. “Hinata and Himawari are out for the day to spend time with her family, but I live with two rugrats already, so it’ll be a piece of cake.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “I trust you, I guess.” She crouched down to her daughter’s level to allow the ladybug to crawl on the tip of her finger. She let Sarada examine it closely before it buzzed away. Sarada gave a little gasp as she watched it disappear into the sky. “Listen, Sarada,” Sakura told her, “Mama has to go somewhere today. Mama wishes she could take you.” Sarada looked into her mother’s eyes with a defeated expression. “If you need anything, make sure you ask first, okay? And remember to use your manners.”

“Yes, Mama,” Sarada sniffed.

“I’ll be back later this afternoon.” She turned to Naruto. “I’ll bring you any news he tells me.”

Naruto nodded and waved to his friend as she left. He closed the door then turned to the sniffling girl, unsure of what to do next. “Well, Sara—”

A slipper came flying in their direction, aiming directly for Naruto’s head. Naruto bent backward slightly to let the slipper hit the door, then turned his direction to his son with an aggravated look. Sarada gasped and followed the Seventh’s gaze. “Boruto-chan!”

The little blond boy stuck his tongue out at the Seventh and motioned for Sarada to follow him. Sarada looked up at Naruto, who just shrugged at her, who released her hand so she could follow his son. Sarada ran to Boruto and the two of them scurried away into one of the rooms.

Naruto sighed. “Might as well start on the chores.”

In the room, Boruto placed both of his hands on Sarada’s shoulders. “Welcome to the war front, Sarada-chan,” he said boldly. “I thought I was the only survivor, so I’m lucky I ran into you.”

“Mama just dropped me off for the—”

“We have an enemy, Sarada-chan.” Boruto peered out of the bedroom before whispering, “The giant ramen monster.”

Sarada pushed up her glasses and stared at her friend confusedly. “The Seventh?” she corrected, but Boruto shook his head.

“Giant. Ramen. Monster.” He peered around the corner once more and saw Naruto coming down the hallway concentrating on a file from his office. “Watch this first attack,” Boruto whispered. He reached down and pulled on a thin rope that Sarada could see was tied to the wall just across them.

Naruto’s foot caught. “Ah, ahh!” Naruto said, watching his papers fall out of his hands as he fell face-first into the carpet.

Boruto grabbed Sarada’s wrist. “Run, run, run!” The two kids scrambled out of the room and into the kitchen.

Naruto gathered his papers and turned back to see the kids running around the corner. “Boruto!” he snapped. Naruto went to his office to put the file on his desk before walking out and deciding his son’s shenanigans were going to come to an end now. Boruto was constantly pulling tricks and pranks on him to the point where he was always on the lookout in his own house. Although he hasn’t had much experience with kids, he knew that the only way to catch Boruto was if he played along; entertain the beast before you surprise it.

Boruto dragged Sarada into one of the cabinets under the sink. “The monster is coming!” he whispered, and the two children listened for Naruto.

The Seventh made his footsteps louder than usual, letting the kids know that he was on the move. Suddenly, there were two sets of footsteps, then three. Sarada bit her lip in terror, imagining the huge size of the monsters with blond hair and whiskers. “Boruto-chan,” Sarada whispered. “How are there three monsters?”

Boruto shook his head. “The monster can do that sometimes,” he said. “But it’s never caught me, not even once!” he pulled out four plastic flower toys from his back pocket and handed two of them to Sarada. “Protect yourself with these shuriken.” Sarada nodded nervously, and the two of them grew silent when they heard the monster’s footsteps just outside their hideout.

“Where are the yummy children hiding?” one of Naruto’s shadow clones boomed in a low voice. “I need to put them in my ramen cup and eat them for lunch.”

The kids burst from the cabinet and threw the plastic flower “shuriken” at the monsters. Boruto ran ahead of Sarada and the two of them headed for the back patio. The shadow clones looked at each other and began to laugh before dissipating into a puff of smoke. Naruto cleared his throat and began to stomp slowly outside.

The moment he stepped out, the two kids were in front of him boldly. “Ramengan!” the two kids yelled, pretending to throw a little orb at his belly. Naruto pretended to groan in pain as the kids ran by him back into the house, giggling. “Good job, Sarada-chan!” Naruto heard Boruto say, and he smiled.

When Naruto entered the house again, he ran his head into a hard metal pole. Boruto and Sarada gasped as the Seventh fell face-first into the carpet. “B-Boruto-chan,” Sarada gasped. “The attack worked, but–”

“It’s probably a trick, Sarada-chan,” Boruto said, crawling toward his dad to examine him. “Hold on.” He ran into his room and when he came back, he had two large, black markers in his hands. “We’re going to mark that we’ve weakened the beast!” he said, handing one of the markers to his friend. The two kids began drawing swirls and teeth on Naruto’s face. On his hands, Boruto and Sarada wrote their names. They high-fived each other and Boruto sat back and stared at his knocked-out father.

“Boruto-chan,” Sarada said, unsure. “I don’t think it’s a trick.”

Boruto bit his lip. “Mommy will be really mad, then,” he said, then pulled Sarada to her feet. Just then, the front door opened.

“Boruto! Naruto-kun! We’re home!”

“Let’s pretend we were napping!” Boruto whispered nervously, grabbing Sarada’s hand and running to his room. The two of them scrambled into the bed and laid their heads on his pillow. Boruto snored lightly and squeezed his eyes shut. Sarada took her glasses off and placed them on a blue nightstand before following suit.

In the doorway to the patio, Naruto came to slowly, rubbing the spot on his head where he rammed into the pole. “That kid,” he grumbled, looking up at the pole his son planted above him.

“Daddy!” Himawari’s voice could be heard around the corner, as well as her clumsy footsteps. When she was in view, Naruto reached out, but Himawari only screamed in terror and fell onto her bottom. She sniffed and began to cry, pointing at Naruto.

“Hima…Naruto-kun, what are you doing?” Hinata picked up their daughter and stared at her husband in confusion.

“I was playing with Boruto and Sarada-chan,” he grumbled, “and then I ran into a pole.” He rubbed his head to reduce the pain.

“Your face, Naruto-kun,” Hinata said, shaking her head, a smile playing on her face. “It’s just Daddy, Himawari,” she cooed, walking to Boruto’s room to check on the kids as Naruto gaped at his reflection on the patio’s glass door. Hinata opened the door to her son’s room with Himawari still sniffing in her arms. When she saw the two of them sleeping in bed, she shook her head and closed the door.

The moment he heard it close, Boruto sat up and shook Sarada so she could do the same. “Good work, Sarada-chan,” he said. He grabbed Sarada’s glasses of his night stand and then put them on her face so she could see his thumbs up.

“Boruto,” Hinata’s voice came from behind the kids. The two of them turned to see Himawari rushing toward the bed to say hello to Sarada, and Hinata’s crossed arms. “You caused a lot of trouble, this time, sir.” Sarada jumped off the bed and patted the little girl’s head.

The four of them left the room so Boruto could apologize while Hinata made lunch. Afterwards, Naruto began to praise the two kids that played with them, saying how sneaky they were, how clever they were, how brave they were, to Hinata. Hinata bandaged her husband’s forehead and Boruto felt embarrassed and guilty, even as Naruto showered him with compliments.

At around five in the afternoon, a knock came from the door. Hinata answered it, and said hello to Sakura with a hug. “Has Sarada been behaving?” Sakura asked, almost anxiously.

“Very well,” Hinata smiled, leading her friend inside the home. Naruto and the kids were asleep on the floor of the living room, Himawari on his belly going up and down with every breath he took, Boruto laying on his father’s left arm, and Sarada laying on his right. On the coffee table beside them were Sarada’s glasses, folded and a hand’s distance away from the edge.

Sakura smiled at her best friend before kneeling to wake Sarada up. “Sarada,” Sakura whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. When she stirred and looked up at her mother, she instantly reached out and wrapped her arms around her neck into a tight hug. Sakura lifted her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Naruto woke up as well and looked at his pink-haired friend. “She’s a great kid, Sakura-chan,” he said groggily. Hinata smiled at her family and saw Sakura out.

“Thanks so much, Hinata,” Sakura said.

“Anytime, Sakura-san,” Hinata replied with a gentle smile.

Sakura smiled back and the two of them made their way home.


Could you pull this off? GENIUS!

Two Guys Pulled a Rugrats Move and Snuck into the Movies Disguised as One Person

“Nothing better than your dad shipping you your brother and sister to you to focus on his business. Now that I’m on babysitting duty, who wants to come help me with these two rugrats? As long as you’ve got candy and such things to bribe them with you’re all set on being their next best friend.”

even though i was not a part of the 12 days of destiel (or however it is called), that is okay, i will write my own

Christmas Day. 

Christmas had always been one of his favorite holidays, with all of the gifts, family happenings, decorations, cookies, and pie. However, ever since Sam had gone to law school, gotten married, and had two rugrats, he had been spending most of his Christmases alone, so he could let Sammy start his own traditions. Even though Sam always invited him, he never quite felt welcome. Including this year, so on Christmas, Dean took a walk around the city he lived in. 

The streets were mostly empty and covered in snow. The buildings all had Christmas decor in the windows - snowmen, snowflakes, Santas, reindeer, wreaths, trees. In the gray daylight it did not seem as lovely as it looked at night, with everything lit up and cheery. Dean sighed, shoving his hands into his coat pockets, kicking along a small block of ice as he walked down the sidewalk. 

Eventually, Dean found himself outside the hospital. He paused, looking up and up and up, until his eyes landed on a window that made his heart jump. Near the top of the building, almost seven floors, were signs taped to the glass. On the signs, written in black marker, were the words: 

All I want for Christmas is a friend. 

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Fake I.D’s

Anonymous asked:

pietro and reader imagine where the reader and pietro go on an undercover mission and they both can’t stand each other and they have to share a room and they don’t want to and LOTS OF FLUFF PLEASE!!!

Word count: 2183

Warnings: Smut

I hope there is enough fluff for you and I hope you don’t mind the smut


    Looking in the mirror you couldn’t help but laugh. You pinched the skin tight fabric; you couldn’t believe you had to wear this thing that qualified as a dress. It’s not that you didn’t like the tightness your uniform was made of skin tight mesh material. Other than feeling uncomfortable in the dress you had to admit you did look good, the slit up to mid-thigh was a bit much though.

     “Hmmmm.” At the sound of Pietro’s voice you twirled around, your perfectly curled hair bouncing slightly. You glared at him as his eyes trailed down your body. Grabbing your clutch off the bed you made your way to the door and pushed past him, it was his turn to get dressed. With all of S.H.E.I.L.D’s money you’d think that they’d be able to afford bigger safe houses. The one you and Pietro had to share was a one room cabin in the middle of nowhere of Belarus. You had no internet access. The only way you could communicate was with a satellite phone. Plopping down on the well-worn plush couch you were thankful for the fire place. There was no main heating so the fireplace was the only source of heat. You watched the flames dance hypnotically. You’d always loved fire it’s what had put you on S.H.I.E.L.D’s radar, you had been an arsonist targeting corrupt multinational megacorporation’s. Little did you know that you had been burning down Hydra’s front companies. After kicking the shit out of Tony, though he’ll never admit it, Fury recruited you.  A knock on the wall snapped you out of your trance.

    Pietro stood in the door way of your shared room. He had a smug grin on his face as he patted down his tux. His ego had at least doubled in size since he put the thing on. He was the kind of guy he knew he looked good and was cocky about it. But he did look good in the tux. You never went for guys like him he was cocky and arrogant and you hated his guts,  but at the same time you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss him? He made his way to the couch and gave a mock bow while holding out his arm. Scoffing you stood up and opened the front door only to be thrown back by the cold night air. It had started to snow again, huffing you hurried back to your room and grabbed your black fur coat that matched the dress. You normally hated wearing fur products but it was too cold to care. An hour of driving later you finally made it to the Independence Palace. You looked over your cover identities.

     “Pietro what’s your name?” You asked testing him on how well he knew his cover. He looked in his review mirror and with playful confusion.

    “You just said my name why do I need to repeat it?” He asked. You slapped him with the manila folder causing him to swerve.

    “Pietro stop being an asshat we have to know this stuff. If we even mess up one thing about our covers Hydra will be on our ass before you can even down your first drink.” You were huffing by the end of your rant. He rolled his eyes before speaking.

     “My name is Alexie Sakovich I’m a transfer tech designer from the Romanian branch of Yurevich design. You are my wife Darya who is a stay at home mom with our two little rugrats.” You were shocked at his knowledge of your covers; you hadn’t even seen him touch the file. Yet you were slightly embarrassed at how in depth these covers were. The thought of having kids scared the shit out of you, but the thought of having kids with Pietro that just made you laugh. Shaking off the embarrassment you stared in awe at the Independence palace. The wind whipped at your hair but you couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful white lights. Pietro came up behind you snaking his arm with yours. You fought the instinct to pull away; you were now in the snake pit and had eyes on you. Plastering a smile on your face you walked into hell.

    The minute you walked in the hairs on the back of your neck prickled with unease. There were hundreds of Hydra operatives posing as CEO’s and rich fat cats. Making your way through the crowd you spotted your first target, Anton Berezin. He was one of the biggest contributors to Hydra’s finances; you had to find out who was recruiting. Tapping Pietro’s arm you subtlety pointed to Anton. Once his eyes landed on Pietro he steered the two of you directly into his path. Anton reminded you of the slick car salesman who sold you your first car. You internally shuddered as his eyes took in your body. You glanced at Pietro, for a second you could have sworn that you saw jealousy in his eyes, but it was gone at soon as it appeared.

    Taking your hand Anton kissed your knuckles without ever breaking eye contact.

     “It is a pleasure to meet you Miss….” He asked fishing for a name. But before you could respond Pietro budded in.

      “Mrs. Sakovich and I am her husband Pietro Sakovich.” Anton quickly dropped your hand and began to shift his weight from one foot to the other. Pietro was glaring at him; he mumbled a quick goodbye and was absorbed into the crowd. You were furious. Pietro started leading you to the bar, his hand slipping lower down your waist. You grabbed his arm discreetly and started applying pressure to the nerve on his wrist causing his hand to go numb.

     “I swear to god Pietro I will lay you flat on your ass in front of all these people if your hand gets any closer to my ass.” He grunted in response and you let go. Once at the bar you ordered champagne and Pietro ordered vodka, typical. Downing the glass he waved at the bartender for another round.

    “What the hell was that? We need to find out who is recruiting the big companies. Anton was the most recent hit.” Pietro gritted his teeth, glaring out into the crowd. Snapping your fingers in front of him you forced him to look at you.

    “He was getting to close for comfort and I didn’t like the way he was staring at you.” You couldn’t help but laugh, was Pietro jealous? He seemed to turn two shades darker at your laughter.

    “Fine I think it’s time we split up and do our own research.” Pushing past you Pietro made his way over to a blonde bimbo with an obvious boob job. You watched as Pietro swept her out on to the dance floor, his deep laughter resonating throughout the building. The bartender came back with another glass of champagne but you wave it away and pointed to an old bottle of scotch behind the counter. Setting the shot down in front of you, you quickly threw the fiery liquid back and made your way up to an older scientist who had been perving on you all night. The one thing you hated about undercover missions, you always had to get cozy with the old guys.

     The night seemed to drag on, but no one had suspected anything. Your feet were sore from all the dancing you had done. For how old some of those men were you were surprised by how well they could move. You hadn’t said another word to Pietro all night since he had gone off with the bimbo. His face was grim as he pulled around the car, tonight had been a bust. Neither of you had gotten any new Intel which made you both pissy.  

    The drive back to the safe house was quiet. There was a new kind of tension in the air. By the time you reached the safe house the snow was coming down hard. There was at least another foot of snow on the ground. The tiny frozen water molecules glittered in the headlights, neither of you made any move to get out of the car. With all the energy you had you slipped your sore feet back into you high heels and began to open your door. The cold air nipped at your nose, but your feet never touched the ground. With his super speed, Pietro had sped over and you were now in his arms bridal style. His eyes seemed to glow in the winter night. Before you could even protest you were inside the house. Pietro set you down not looking at you, as you began to defrost your anger returned. Huffing you stomped to the bedroom and slammed the door. Much to your dismay Pietro was already lying on the bed in his pajamas.

     “Get out of the bed you’re on the couch tonight.” Unpinning your hair you set the pins on the dresser. Suddenly Pietro was behind you, you could feel his hot breath on your neck. The feeling was intoxicating. His hands slipped to your waist. His voice was like velvet in your ear.

     “Do you know why I scared off Anton?” You couldn’t even really think or speak so you just shook your head.

       “Because I don’t like other men trying to take what’s mine, and you (Y/N) are mine.” His hands tightened on the fabric before you heard the tearing of the skin tight dress. You were now in nothing but a black strapless bra and a lacy thong. Quickly he turned you around, your mind was screaming at you that this was wrong but your body said that this was right. Pietro’s eyes were dark with desire as he crashed his lips against yours. His tongue fought against yours for dominance. He was a cheater though; he nipped at your bottom lip forcing you to back down. Pietro was completely taking over your body. You couldn’t figure out where he began and you ended. His hands roamed over your body as you tore at his button down shirt. You vaguely heard the buttons scattering to the floor. His shirt and pants joined your ripped dress, Natasha would be pissed but you couldn’t care less at the moment.

    Pietro’s kisses were desperate and hot. This wasn’t the gentle love making you were used to, this was pure need, the need to dominate, the need to claim. Easing you down on to the bed his body against yours was only a tease. You were hot and needed release. Trying to get your message across you began grinding your hips against his. He groaned into your mouth from pleasure. Your hands trailed down to his boxers and eased them off. You felt his rigid cock brush against your thigh. Breaking the kiss you were panting trying to refill your lungs. Pietro’s lips trailed down your body until they reached your thong. He glanced up at you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he grabbed the thong in his teeth and ripped them off. Pietro stood up on his knees lining his cock with your hot slick entrance. He looked up at you but there was worry in his beautiful blue eyes.

      “Do you want this?” The question hung heavy in the air. There was desperation in his voice he wanted you. Did you want this? Did you want him? Was it too late to turn back? As you stared into his sapphire blue eyes your heart made the decision for you as you nodded your head. A smile broke out on his face. He braced his arms on either side of your face and began kissing you roughly as he entered you. You gasped at his sheer size; he stayed very still letting you adjust. When you were ready you began rocking against him finding your rhythm. He tunneled his hands through your hair pulling your bodies close together. You dug your nails into his back urging him to go faster. He pumped in and out of you with such ferocity you knew you would be sore tomorrow, but you were so close. With another jolt he sent you off the edge screaming out his name but he didn’t let you fall peacefully. He continued to pump in and out of you dragging out your climax. He reached his climax and fell against you completely out of breath; all you could see was stars. Pietro’s breathing suddenly became really deep; you poked his arm realizing he had fallen asleep on you. After what seemed like an hour of wiggling you were out from underneath him, but before you could get up to move to the couch you were lock against his body by the beefy things he called arms. He whispered something in Russian into your hair but you couldn’t make out what he said. The moon had begun to peek through the clouds. Pressed against Pietro’s warm body you watched the snow falling outside the window.