Angelica's Playground - TrentMckay - Rugrats & All Grown Up! (Cartoons) [Archive of Our Own] (2025)

Angelica Pickles sat in her room, her Cynthia doll clutched tightly in her hands. Outside, the warm afternoon sunlight bathed the Pickles’ backyard, where the babies played as they always did. But Angelica wasn’t interested in playing. She was creating.

Her tea set was arranged on the floor, surrounded by rows of stuffed animals and toys. Each one had its place, its role in the grand story she was weaving. Cynthia sat at the head of the table, her frayed hair tangled but regal.

“This is my world,” Angelica whispered, her voice soft but commanding. “And you all have to listen.”

She glanced toward the window, her eyes narrowing as she watched Tommy, Chuckie, Phil, and Lil crawling across the grass. She didn’t hate them—not really. But they didn’t understand her stories. They laughed at her rules, ignored her games.

“They’ll see,” she murmured, gripping Cynthia tighter. “They’ll see soon enough.”

The babies noticed it first.

It was subtle at first: shadows stretching just a little too far, the backyard fence bending in strange directions. Tommy crawled toward the sandbox, but it wasn’t where it had been yesterday. The sandbox was farther now, and when he reached it, the sand was cold and damp, filled with tiny, wriggling worms.

Chuckie was the next to notice. He tugged at Tommy’s shirt, his wide eyes darting nervously toward the garden. “Tommy,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Something’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked, tilting his head.

Chuckie pointed. The garden was overgrown, the plants twisting into shapes that looked almost like faces—grinning, leering faces. And behind them, deeper in the shadows, something moved.

“We should go back inside,” Chuckie said, his voice barely audible.

But Tommy shook his head. “We gotta find Angelica. She’s always in charge.”

Inside the Pickles’ house, the walls seemed taller. The hallways stretched endlessly, their corners dark and sharp. The babies crawled cautiously, their tiny voices echoing unnaturally as they called for Angelica.

“Angelica?” Phil asked, his voice bouncing off the walls.

“Where are you?” Lil added.

At the end of the hallway, a door creaked open. Light spilled out, golden and flickering, like the glow of an old film projector.

“Come in,” Angelica’s voice called, sweet but strange.

They crawled inside.

Angelica’s room was transformed. The walls were painted in swirling colors, the floor covered in plush carpets that shifted like waves beneath their hands. Cynthia sat in the center of the room, propped up on a throne made of building blocks.

Angelica stood beside her, a paper crown perched on her head. She smiled at the babies, but her eyes were wild.

“Welcome to my kingdom!” she declared, spreading her arms wide. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

The babies exchanged nervous glances.

“Angelica,” Tommy said carefully, “what’s going on?”

Angelica’s smile faltered for a moment. “This is how it’s supposed to be,” she said, her voice sharp. “You’re in my story now. And you have to play along.”

“What if we don’t wanna play?” Chuckie asked, his voice trembling.

Angelica’s expression darkened. “Then you’ll have to stay here forever.”
As the babies tried to leave, the room changed. The walls stretched higher, their colors bleeding together into a dizzying swirl. The floor softened, turning to quicksand beneath their hands and knees.

“I don’t like this!” Lil cried, clutching Phil’s arm.

“Angelica!” Tommy shouted. “Stop it!”

But Angelica didn’t seem to hear. She stood by Cynthia, her face unreadable, as the world around them warped and twisted.

The babies crawled desperately, their tiny hands sinking into the shifting ground. Shapes began to emerge from the walls—giant toys with grinning, jagged mouths and hollow eyes. One of the shapes lunged toward Chuckie, its rubbery hands stretching unnaturally long.

“Help!” Chuckie screamed.

Tommy grabbed his arm, pulling him back just as the shape dissolved into a cloud of glittering dust.

“We have to find Angelica’s doll!” Tommy said, his voice firm despite his fear. “Cynthia! That’s where this is coming from!”

The babies crawled toward the throne, the air growing heavier with each step. Cynthia’s glassy eyes seemed to follow them, her frayed hair twisting like snakes.

“Stop!” Angelica shrieked, stepping in front of them. “You can’t touch her! She’s mine!”

“Angelica,” Tommy said softly, “we don’t wanna take her away. We just want things to go back to normal.”

Angelica hesitated, her lip trembling. “Normal? Normal is boring. Normal is when nobody listens to me.”

“We listen,” Lil said gently.

“You never listen!” Angelica snapped, her voice breaking. “You don’t care about my stories. You just want to do your dumb baby stuff!”

Tommy crawled closer, his hand outstretched. “We do care. But we’re scared, Angelica. You’re scaring us.”

Angelica’s eyes filled with tears. She looked at Cynthia, then at the swirling chaos around her. The walls were cracking now, the colors bleeding out into darkness.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she whispered.

“Then let us help,” Tommy said.

Angelica nodded slowly, her hands trembling as she picked up Cynthia.

The doll felt heavier now, its plastic surface cold and unyielding. Angelica hugged it tightly, her tears falling onto its tangled hair.

“I just wanted things to be special,” she said softly.

“They are,” Tommy said. “But they’re even better when we’re all together.”

Angelica took a deep breath and placed Cynthia on the floor. The doll’s eyes flickered, and the room shuddered as the swirling chaos began to fade. The walls shrank back to their normal size, the colors softening into familiar pastels.

The babies watched as Cynthia’s glassy eyes closed, and for the first time, she looked… peaceful.

The next morning, the babies played in the backyard as if nothing had happened. The sandbox was where it should be, and the garden was just a garden.

Angelica sat on the porch, Cynthia in her lap. She watched the babies with a faint smile, her crown forgotten on the grass.

“Are you okay?” Tommy asked, crawling up to her.

Angelica nodded. “Yeah. I just… I didn’t mean for things to get so crazy.”

Tommy grinned. “It’s okay. You can tell us your stories anytime. Just maybe not make them come alive again, okay?”

Angelica laughed softly, brushing Cynthia’s hair. “Deal.”

But as she looked down at the doll, she thought she saw Cynthia’s lips curl into a faint, knowing smile.

Angelica's Playground - TrentMckay - Rugrats & All Grown Up! (Cartoons) [Archive of Our Own] (2025)

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