I Used To Be Afraid That If I Talked About Or Looked At Images Of Any Characters I Was Fixated On, Everyone

I used to be afraid that if I talked about or looked at images of any characters I was fixated on, everyone would be able to immediately detect my embarrassing blorbo thoughts about them.

Picture an eight-year-old girl watching Animaniacs, completely poker-faced (or as best as a child that age could do while watching that show), because she doesn't want anyone to know she has blorbo thoughts about Wakko Warner, because they'd surely call her a freak and socially ostracize her. That was me.

Back then, I didn't have the vocabulary to express those thoughts, but I do now.

do you ever like a character so much that just looking at pictures of them is a bit embarrassing.

I was reading some of the old Animaniacs comics and man did they turn the "English" dial up on Pinky

i love you English Rose Pinky

I completely understand people wanting more platonic stuff, but I dislike when they go about it in the "why can't they just be friends? 🙄" way, and belittle people for liking the characters in a romance. Plus this assumption that the person shipping the characters romantically couldn't possibly be ace or aro themselves, or must have amanormative views and see all characters ever this way etc. I myself have like 3 pairings I see romantically simply because I prefer their dynamic that way, I'm actually not out here thinking everyone has to be a couple or whatever

.

more crackfic ideas

Cotton Eye Snow(ball) comes into Acme Rodent Town and acts generally toxic to everyone. He messes around with the wrong mouse's boyfriend (Pinky Dusk) and ends up in a showdown with Bull's-Eye Brain.

"Can't two guys be just friends?" If they stop looking at each other like that then sure

Brotherly Love: A Taboo Animaniacs Fanfic (Part One of Seven)

I warned you this was coming (check the tags). I told you, dog.

I was an older teenager when I wrote this. I'm pretty sure I had started college at the time. Somebody shared a dorm room with me while I was writing this nonsense. Possibly, they were writing similar nonsense; I went to a weird college.

Readers of my other account (that I haven't yet connected to this one) might recognize that I tried to rework this into a James/Meowth fic (but didn't get very far). Apparently, mapping Meowth, James, and Jessie onto Yakko, Wakko, and Dot might not work as well as I had previously thought.

Anyway, DEAD GOODFEATHERS: DO NOT EAT

Content Warning: Consensual romantic relationship between two siblings (just because I wrote about it in a story doesn't mean I'd do it; I have a sibling and I would never get bizzay with them); aged-up characters; terrible attempt at writing Scratchansniff's accent out phonetically; exhibitionism; questionable knowledge of psychology; big emotions, including: *extremely Gonzo voice* GUILT and *extremely Septa Unella voice* SHAME SHAME SHAME (ding ding); Yakko angst

-O-o-O-o-O-

All was quiet over Burbank that Thursday night. Yakko Warner sat on the balcony of the Warner Brothers Studio water tower, gazing over the city lights.

His two younger siblings, Wakko and Dot, were worn out from that day’s antics and were soundly sleeping in the bedroom the three shared. They hadn’t even stirred when Yakko closed the door of the water tower. Yakko should have been tired too, considering he wreaked just as much havoc as his siblings, but he had a lot on his mind.

Lately, he’d been having these “feelings.” They were similar to the ones he got when he looked at Hello Nurse, but more intense. Hello Nurse was pleasing to the eye—very—but that was it. He merely liked looking at her, not….doing things with her, like what he wanted to do with the object of these “feelings.”

The Warners didn’t age, being toons, but Yakko figured he should still have gone through puberty by now. He didn’t know much about this subject, having driven Ms. Flamiel off before she could teach them Health, but nevertheless, he was sure he wasn’t supposed to be having feelings for the person that he did.

A cold breeze chilled Yakko’s skin through his fur. He decided it was time to go back inside.

Before turning in, he decided to check on his siblings. Dot, on the bunk just above Yakko’s slept relatively quietly, occasionally muttering about how cute she was. Actually, Dot did look pretty cute when she was sleeping—a trait not many people possessed. And Yakko certainly didn’t expect the object of his affections to possess this trait, considering how gross he acted in his waking hours.

Yakko easily scaled the top bunk to gaze upon the object of his affection. His little brother, Wakko, lay curled up, pillow’s edge in his mouth, half-covered by the blanket.

Watching his brother sleep so innocently only forced the most dirty thoughts into Yakko’s mind. Hastily, he tried to expel them. “This is my baby brother! How could I ever think of doing those things to him?”

Looking shamefully down at Wakko, Yakko decided it was time for another cold shower.

-O-o-O-

For once in his life, Yakko was the last Warner sibling to wake up. Usually that honor fell to Wakko, but Yakko hadn’t exactly fallen asleep right after he went back to bed.

See, Yakko liked to talk. He talked almost every second of the day, to the point where Dr. Scratchinsniff threatened to duct tape his mouth shut. He even talked in his sleep, especially when something was bothering him. If Dot or Wakko had heard him, well….he didn’t want to think about it.

So one can imagine Yakko’s sheer horror when he woke up to Wakko, sitting by his bed, staring at him.

“Wakko, what are you doing?” Yakko shrieked, sitting straight up in bed.

“Watchin’ you,” Wakko answered calmly.

When Yakko realized that Wakko probably hadn’t heard him talking in his sleep—otherwise he would have been a lot less calm—he calmed down.

“I mean, what are you doing watching me,” Yakko said, more calmly.

Wakko shrugged. “You’re usually the first one up.”

Yakko sighed, relieved. However, Wakko took it as a sigh of exasperation and immediately drooped.

“If you don’t want me to, I won’t do it anymore,” he said in a small voice.

Yakko rushed to comfort him. “No, I don’t mind you watching me. Hope you’re enjoying the view.” Yakko flashed a cheesy smile at Wakko. Wakko giggled.

“God, what a cute giggle,” Yakko thought.

“I guess Dot’s already up,” Yakko commented, making the bed.

“She’s in the bathroom,” Wakko answered, throwing off his pajamas. He searched around for his blue sweatshirt.

Yakko turned around to look for his pants and let out a short cry of shock. He was staring directly at Wakko’s naked form. True, Wakko’s back was turned, and he didn’t normally wear pants, but still…. Yakko was fascinated by his brother’s lack of self-awareness sometimes. He suddenly turned away. “Stop gawking at your brother like that!” he mentally scolded himself.

“What happened?” Wakko asked, from under his shirt.

“I just stubbed my toe. I really should move the night table further away from the bed,” Yakko said, his eyes creeping slowly toward Wakko, who was still putting on his shirt and still naked.

At that moment, Dot came out of the bathroom. The minute she walked in the room, she shrieked. “Wakko, put your clothes on!”

Yakko saw a devilish smile come over his brother’s face.

“What if I don’t?” Wakko challenged, lifting his shirt higher over his head.

Yakko, despite his conflicting emotions, turned to the camera, blew a kiss and said, “Goodnight, everybody!”

Dot only rolled her eyes. “Wakko, if you don’t put your clothes on, I’ll be forced to….” She thought for a moment, then grinned menacingly. “I’ll be forced to call in a clown!”

Wakko’s eyes bugged out, then he very quickly slid his shirt onto his body.

Yakko raised an eyebrow. “Darn. I was beginning to enjoy that—WHAT?! NO!” He immediately slapped himself for thinking it. He put on his pants very quickly, hoping to hide the sudden protrusion.

As soon as the siblings finished breakfast, the phone rang. It was Dr. Scratchansniff, asking them to come in for their appointment.

Yakko was too consumed by his thoughts to even notice Hello Nurse, which really surprised Dot. Wakko, who was busy screaming, “Hello, Nurse!” didn’t seem to notice. Yakko felt a tiny pang when he saw his brother’s reaction to the voluptuous blonde. “How could I ever imagine that he’d feel the same way about me as I do about him?” he thought, sulking on the waiting room couch, oblivious to the bemused looks Dot gave him.

Dot gazed at Yakko. He definitely wasn’t himself today. Normally, he’d be talking a mile a minute, planning out exactly how he was going to fracture Scratchansniff’s sanity this week. And if he wasn’t doing that, he’d be happily looking at this month’s (or last year’s, depending on how diligently the magazines were replaced) issue of Toon Times. Today, he just sat there, looking as though he’d just been suckered into a conversation with Pip Pumphandle. Dot wanted to ask what was wrong, but she didn’t want to pry. Besides, she thought, he’ll probably be over it soon and be back to normal.

Dot, who wasn’t interested in any of the magazines, turned to Wakko to find him blowing spit bubbles. “Ew.”

Dot sighed. This was going to be a long wait.

Hello Nurse came out. “Yakko, Dr. Scratchansniff will see you now.”

Yakko dragged himself off the couch and trudged into the office.

-O-o-O-

Dr. Scratchansniff was shielding himself behind his desk, waiting for the inevitable explosion of Yakko entering. Honestly, every time the Warners came within a fifty foot radius of him, insanity and misery were sure to ensue. He couldn’t have one appointment without Yakko making sarcastic comments, Wakko doing something gross, and Dot getting off-topic and leading him on a verbal wild goose chase. A this rate, he was never going to get these kids de-zanitized.

“Vait a minute,” Dr. Scratchansniff thought. Instead of the usual noisy, zany greeting, he was hearing….silence?

The psychiatrist emerged from behind his desk to find Yakko, sitting quietly on the couch in front of him. He didn’t even seem to notice the doctor; he absently traced the wrinkles in the upholstery with his fingers, a pensive expression crossing his visage.

Scratchy had never seen Yakko this quiet. Ever. Even if he wasn’t talking, he’d usually be sitting there, smirking at the trouble that lay in store for the psychiatrist. Yakko didn’t seem to be plotting any kind of chaos; he seemed to be lost in his own world.

Scratchy cleared his throat to get Yakko’s attention. Sure enough, Yakko dragged his eyeballs up to meet Scratchy’s.

“Oh. Hi, Scratchy,” he muttered lethargically, punctuating his speech with a heavy sigh.

“Yakko, you seem to be awfully quiet today. Vhat seems to be zhe problem?” Scratchy asked, expecting Yakko to drop the act and start the chaos any second.

“Nothing.” Yakko mumbled.

Scratchy noted this on his pad of paper. This seemed serious.

“Yakko, if zhere ist a problem, you know you can tell me,” Scratchy said in a gentler tone. “Das ist vas I’m here for.”

“Okay, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it….”

“Try me.”

Yakko took a deep breath. “I think I’m attracted to my brother.”

Scratchy raised an eyebrow. This was new. He’d dealt with patients who had issues with incest, but it was a whole different story now that it was a Warner in the situation.

“You think I’m disgusting, don’t you?”

Scratchy looked up from his notepad. Yakko was staring at him, a hurt expression on his face.

“Nein, nein, I am not here to judge. Now, Yakko, are you sure zhat it is attraction you are feeling tovards Vakko?”

Yakko stared at him. “I. Want. To. Make. Out. With. My. Brother. Yes, I’m positive I’m attracted to Wakko,” Yakko retorted.

“Hmm….” Scratchy wrote on his pad some more. Yakko couldn’t take it anymore.

“You gotta help me, Scratchy! I’ve been hiding it from him all along and it’s eating me up inside! It’s only a matter of time until I slip up and say it or I say it in my sleep! I can’t have my brother thinking I’m some kind of freak!” Yakko jumped on Scratchy’s desk. “Seriously, I’m starting to find his lack of hygiene sexy,” he whispered behind his hand.

“Zhe only zhing I can suggest right now is writing zhese feelings in a journal. I vill have to zhink about zhis some more before going further,” Scratchy answered.

Yakko sighed, relieved. Maybe if he wrote his nasty little thoughts down, he wouldn’t have the urge to yell them from the top of the water tower anymore.

“Thanks, Scratchy! I’ll send Wakko in.” Yakko hopped off the desk and skipped out the door.

Scratchy knew he’d be able to refrain from telling Wakko about Yakko’s feelings for him. However, he still wasn’t exactly looking forward to this appointment. His office hadn’t smelled right since the last one. Plus, he could never get very far in de-zanitizing him because he never said much.

“So, Vakko, is zhere anything you vant to talk about?” Scratchy asked.

“Like what?” Wakko responded.

“Like…. Your relationship vith your siblings.”

“Oh.” Wakko smiled. “It’s fine.”

“Care to elaborate?” Scratchy pressed.

“It’s….really fine?”

Scratchy sighed. “Anything else? How about your day?”

Wakko thought for a while, then perked up. “I actually got up before Yakko! But not before Dot.”

“Go on.”

“And….she got into the bathroom first and took forever. So I didn’t shower.” Wakko grinned. Scratchy rubbed his temples.

Dot’s appointment was a little better. Scratchy got more out of her—maybe more than he wanted.

“So, Dot, vould you like to tell me about your relationship vith your brozers?” Scratchy asked.

“They’re cool most of the time, but sometimes Yakko talks in his sleep, which gets really annoying because he’s always yelling, ‘Hello, Nurse!’ And Wakko can be kinda gross. Like today, he didn’t take a shower—he hasn’t for two weeks now—and he wouldn’t put on his clothes until I threatened to sic a clown on him. Actually, now that I think about it, that was kinda funny.” Dot giggled.

Scratchy looked up in surprise. “He….vouldn’t put on his clothes?”

“Yeah, and it really seemed to freak Yakko out. I don’t know why, though, ‘cause they take baths together and they have the same stuff. Mostly.” Dot shrugged.

Scratchy was furiously writing on his notepad. Dot got bored and started balancing on her tail. She found that she could almost see Scratchy’s notepad.

“Whatcha writing?” she asked.

Scratchy held the pad against his chest. “Notes.”

“Oh. “ Dot got off her tail.

In the end, Scratchy didn’t call them in for a group appointment. Based on his notes, he had a lot to work through before he even made a dent in their zaniness.

-O-o-O-o-O-

Moral of the story: If you lock three volatile cartoon characters in a tower and expect them to stay sane after sixty years, you're playing yourself.