Yakkolicious Writing

They say the pen is mightier than the sword.

[yakkolicious-writing]

Introduction

Once upon a time, there was a girl who wrote cartoon fanfictions. She liked to publish her fanfiction on AO3, but she began to worry that AO3 wasn't reaching enough people. So, she came up with an idea: she would post one-shot fanfiction on Tumblr as well.

Hello everyone! I'm @yakkolicious, or Yakko for short. My pronouns are she/her, and this is my new fanfiction blog! I don't really like to put my work on Tumblr, but I decided a fanfiction blog would be great for those who would prefer to read my one-shots on Tumblr.

Fandoms I Write For: Animaniacs (1993) Strawberry Shortcake (1980 and 2003) Clone High (2002) Goof Troop General Mickey Mouse universe Punch-Out!! This list will hopefully grow in the future! What I Write: Fluff, friendship, romance, hurt/comfort, third and first person POVs, friends to lovers, mutual pining, angst

What I Don't Write: Smut, fight scenes, characters included in the Animaniacs reboot or Clone High revival (I have nothing against the Clone High revival and everything against the Animaniacs reboot), Berry Bitty Adventures or Berry in the Big City, anything pedophilic or incestuous

I do write multichapter fics, but they will NOT be posted to this blog. All of those will go to AO3 and only AO3. Older one-shots currently on AO3 will be posted here if requested. My Canon Ships: Gandhi x Marie Curie Micknie (Mickey Mouse x Minnie Mouse) My Fanon Ships: Brinky (Pinky x the Brain) Slappina (Slappy Squirrel x Vina Walleen) Max Goof x PJ Pete Dosé/Donzé (Donald Duck x José Carioca)

Canon x OC: Yakkevie (Yakko Warner x Stevie Skunkton) Wakkaisy (Wakko Warner x Daisy Bell) Dotilly (Dot Warner x Silly Simmons) Panchito x Rosa María

Requests are CLOSED!

I'm hoping to become a nonfandom author in the future, and I do welcome constructive criticism! Please be nice though. All fics that are posted here will also contain an AO3 link if you would prefer to read it there. See you around!

[yakkolicious-writing]

A Couple of Mess-Ups

Image is "Rainy Day" by Sabeel Ahammed. I could not find a Creative Commons license for this one.

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort Fandom: Super Mario Bros. Central Relationship: Mario x Princess Peach (in a weird in-between friendship and romance way) Wordcount: 2,035 words Summary: On a rainy day in the Mushroom Kingdom, Mario is sitting outside, contemplating the past. However, when Princess Peach finds him, he realizes that he can't keep it to himself anymore: he needs to tell her that he's sorry. Warnings: None Rating: G. Suitable for all audiences.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62387272

Been a while since I posted to this blog! Here's a little Mario one-shot I did. This one was inspired by the ending of Super Mario Odyssey. I hope you like it!

It was an unusually drab evening in the Mushroom Kingdom. The sky was a boring shade of gray, and rain poured from the puffy white clouds. Everyone was at home, doing something quiet to pass the time. Everyone, that is, except for Mario.

Mario sat in a field not too far from Peach’s Castle. He didn’t wear anything special to protect himself from the rain: just his typical shirt, overalls, shoes, and cap. His hands were on his cheeks, and he stared at the grass as it was assaulted by the raindrops. Normally, Mario was a lot more chipper, but today, he just didn’t have the energy to be his normal, cheerful self. He was thinking too much about the past. Things he regretted. Things he wished he could undo, but couldn’t. He hated thinking about the past. Mario preferred to live in the moment or imagine the possibilities of the future, not linger over things he couldn’t change. He never chose to think about the past when he could help it. Today, however, he couldn’t.

In the middle of the afternoon, completely out of nowhere, Mario was reminded of something he’d much rather forget. He put on a smile for Luigi, but as soon as Luigi fell asleep, Mario snuck out of their house and came to the field, where he could get drenched in the rain. It was what he deserved. Mario knew that perfection wasn’t real, and he knew that nobody had to be perfect, but for Mario, he had to be as close to it as one person could be. Mario was a hero. When Bowser was up to one of his evil schemes, whether he was trying to kidnap the princess again or causing havoc in some other kingdom, everyone knew that they could count on Mario to stop him. Even when Mario wasn’t saving people, Mario knew that many others looked up to him. Luigi and many Toads wanted to be like him. Princess Peach greatly admired him too. They liked him for his bravery, his kindness, his tenacity. What would the Mushroom Kingdom denizens think of Mario if they saw the bad side of him? Maybe Luigi would still like him, since he was his brother, but everyone else would turn on him. They’d call him out for being the fraud he really was. They’d never let him step outside of his house again, and if Bowser kidnapped Peach, Luigi and the Toads would be on their own unless one of their other friends decided to help. Mario couldn’t let that happen, but every once in a while, he felt he deserved to suffer for his mistakes. That’s why he sat in the rain. He’d sit in the snow and sleet too, even hail if Luigi could somehow sleep through it.

As Mario punished himself, he saw a figure in the corner of his eye. He turned his head.

“Huh?” he asked.

The figure was far away, but he could make out some features. Fair skin, golden blonde hair, dressed in pink. Mario blinked a few times, and then, he clearly saw who this was: Princess Peach. She was all by herself.

“That’s-a strange,” Mario thought, “usually Peach has some Toads with her. What’s she doing all by herself?”

Mario watched Peach as she strolled down a dirt path. She held a pink umbrella in her hand that looked nothing like her typical parasol. For a few seconds, she stopped. She looked up, felt the rain in her hand, and then, looked in Mario’s direction.

“Oh!” Mario heard her faint cry.

Then, Peach started getting closer and closer.

“Oh no,” Mario thought, “this is bad. Very bad.”

Peach kept walking towards Mario, and eventually, Mario could make out her beautiful blue eyes and pink lips. She was wearing a raincoat that looked a bit like her normal gown, and oddly for her, she wasn’t wearing her crown. Peach always wore her crown, even when she was go-kart racing or playing tennis. What was so different about a little rainy day like today?

Meanwhile, when Peach got close enough to Mario, she noticed that he was completely soaked. His shirt, normally bright red, looked more maroon than anything, and his denim overalls were darker too. His cap was so wet that it sagged on Mario’s head. Peach gasped.

“Mario!” she cried, “you’re soaking wet!”

“Eh,” Mario replied, “I’ll be OK.”

“Oh, Mario, you must be so cold!”

Peach then sat in the grass and held her umbrella over Mario’s head.

“Oh?” Mario looked up at the umbrella before looking at Peach. “Princess, you’re-a gonna get your hair wet!”

“Don’t worry about me, Mario,” Peach explained, “I’ve been under the umbrella since I came out here. You need it more than I do.”

“Oh, that’s-a very kind of you.” Mario smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mario.”

Peach smiled back at Mario, but Mario didn’t have anything else he wanted to say to Peach. Peach, however, had some questions. Why was he sitting out in the rain alone like this? This was unusual for him. She needed answers.

“Mario, what are you doing out in the rain all by yourself?” Peach asked.

“Oh, nothing much,” Mario answered, “sometimes I just like to, uh, feel the rain on my face.”

Mario giggled. It sounded the same as all his other chuckles, but Peach raised an eyebrow at him.

“You know, I could ask you the same question,” Mario said, “what are you doing out in the rain all by yourself, Princess?”

“I was going for a walk,” Peach answered, “I needed a bit of me time, without anyone watching me. I left my crown at the castle to tell the Toads that I wanted to be left alone. Then I saw you here.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

Mario chuckled, but Peach was still thinking about how she didn’t believe Mario’s explanation. Maybe he did like the rain, but something just felt off in her mind. Mario was very extroverted. Surely, he’d want to enjoy the rain with someone he loved if he was just out here and letting it fall on him. Maybe her, maybe Luigi. It seemed unusual for him to do it all alone.

“Mario, is something bothering you?” Peach asked, “you can tell me if there is. I won’t judge! I can keep it secret too if you’d like.”

“Oh no, she knows,” Mario thought.

Mario frowned at Peach and rested his hands on the grass. Peach frowned back at him.

“Oh,” Peach said, “I guess there is something bothering you. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Mario didn’t reply immediately. It was related to Peach. How he treated her when she was at a low point. Peach had a good memory, so she definitely didn’t forget it. Not that Mario was hoping that she’d forgotten, but he would hate to bring it up and make her upset. She was probably still trying to process what had happened too. Mario took his soaked cap off and sighed.

“No,” he said, “I can talk about it.”

“Alright.” Peach continued holding the umbrella over Mario’s head. “What is it?”

“I’m-a thinking about what happened on the Moon.”

“The Moon?”

“Yeah. When Bowser tried to marry you.”

Peach stayed quiet; her attention was completely focused on Mario and what he had to say.

“I was hoping to propose to you, but after Bowser jumped in, I… I got so, so pushy, and… well, since I’m-a talking to you, I want to say… I’m so, so sorry, Princess. I should’ve known better than to make you feel so stressed, especially after Bowser tried to force you to marry him, on the Moon. All you wanted to do was go home, a-and I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have tried at all…”

Mario squeezed his eyes shut. Then, Peach heard a sniffle. Then, she watched as Mario started crying softly. She had seen him cry before, but this is the most depressed Peach had ever seen Mario. That globetrotting adventure was so long ago, yet Mario cared enough about that botched proposal attempt that he was crying about it right now.

“Oh, Mario,” Peach scooted towards Mario.

“You don’t have to do anything for me,” Mario said.

“I know, but it’s OK, Mario.”

“No, it’s not. Princess, what I did was… was…”

“Unforgivable?”

“Yeah. Unforgivable.”

“Oh, Mario, it’s alright. I forgive you.”

Mario’s eyes shot open, and he slowly turned his head to face Peach, gripping his hat tightly.

“You do?” Mario asked.

“I do,” Peach answered.

“It was a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong, I was very stressed when you and Bowser started fighting over me, but what happened happened. We can’t change the past. We should’ve seen that fight coming, but it’s over now. What matters now is that we’re here, together, in the Mushroom Kingdom, safe and sound.”

“Oh, wow.” Mario smiled softly. “Thank you.”

Peach smiled back at Mario, still holding the umbrella over his head, when suddenly, she thought back to the Moon too. Her own regrets with the situation, how she treated Mario. How she could’ve left him to die if luck wasn’t on his side. She didn’t need Mario to apologize to her, though it was a nice gesture, but if he was going to apologize to her for the fiasco, then she certainly owed him one as well. It wouldn’t be right for her to just let her own actions slide.

“Hey,” she said softly, “there’s… something I need to apologize to you for too.”

“Oh?” Mario asked.

“Mario, I want to say that I’m sorry for taking off on the Odyssey without you.”

“Oh? You don’t need to say sorry for that! I made it on, didn’t I?”

“I mean, yes, you did, but Bowser was also there, and he was definitely ready to board the ship, and we all know how strong Bowser is. I probably know how strong he is better than anyone…”

Peach lowered her head, and Mario gently pat her shoulder. She then looked at Mario.

“Even if Bowser couldn’t get on the Odyssey himself, he could’ve easily dragged you down,” Peach explained, “what I should’ve done was tell Cappy and Tiara to get on, then grab your arm and run. Then turn your proposal down when we were sure Bowser couldn’t get us.”

Mario started to giggle, and then, Peach laughed alongside him.

“Well, if you say you did something wrong, then I say that I forgive you!” Mario exclaimed.

“Oh, thank you, Mario,” Peach said.

Mario scratched the back of his head.

“Oh, look at the two of us.” Mario wiped his eye with his finger. “Just a couple of mess-ups.”

“Yeah,” Peach replied, “just a couple of mess-ups. All of those kidnappings are rough, on both of us, but that one was its own special kind of bad.”

“Hoo, boy, you can say that again. But hey, at least I know I don’t have to be so perfect all the time anymore.”

“Oh, Mario, you never had to be perfect for us in the first place! At least, you don’t have to be perfect for me. Nobody’s perfect, and nobody will ever be perfect. All we can do is try to do the right thing, and when we do the wrong thing, try to make up for it, some way, somehow.”

“Well-said, Princess!”

Mario then took a look at Peach. He noticed that her hair was getting darker and losing its volume, and she continued to hold the umbrella over his head.

“Oh!” Mario said.

“Hm?” Peach asked.

Suddenly, Mario put his hand on the umbrella, and he pushed it so it would cover both his head and Peach’s. Peach looked up at the umbrella before turning to face Mario. She smiled at him, giggled, and closed her eyes. The rain continued to pour, but Mario and Peach silently agreed to stay out for a little while. Mario could go back home later, and Peach could return to the castle later too. Sure, both of them were blunderers, but at least they had each other. They could be mess-ups together.

[yakkolicious-writing]

Nyctophobia

"Clear Night Sky with Orion" by Tom Olliver is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Genre: Friendship Fandom: Animaniacs Central Relationship: Cleff Lillipad (male OC) & Yakko Warner Wordcount: 2,370 words Summary: At a slumber party at the water tower, Yakko's best friend, Cleff, grapples with his fear of the dark. Will Cleff overcome it? Can Yakko help him get some sleep? Warnings: This fic is centered around Cleff dealing with nyctophobia, which might be triggering to some readers. Rating: G. Suitable for all audiences.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60684214

Hi guys! I don't have much to say on this one other than that I really love using Cleff, and I felt he deserved some more time with Yakko. I hope you enjoy this fic!

For most of their lives, the Warners didn’t have friends. Sure, they called lots of people “special friends,” and sometimes they would even make an actual friend, but most of the time, they didn’t see those friends again. Dr. Scratchansniff was the closest thing they had to an actual friend, but in reality, he wasn’t too close to a friend. Scratchansniff is an old fart. He’s fussy, stuck in his ways, and sometimes he’s mean. The Warners love him all the same, but they didn’t realize how much they needed friends their own ages until they met Cleff. Cleff was a little bit fussy too, and a bit of a goody-two-shoes, but he also had a lot in common with the Warners, especially Yakko, his best friend. He was also someone the Warners could always depend on to be there for them, even if he was too scared to climb the ladder to the tower. That was alright: Yakko could always carry him up. It wasn’t too much work for Yakko, and it meant that Cleff could do more fun things with the Warners. For example, go to their slumber parties.

In Yakko’s room, the Warners and Cleff were jumping around and giggling, holding and swinging fluffy, feather-filled pillows around. Wakko stood by Cleff’s side, and together, the two of them whacked Yakko in almost every place imaginable with their pillows. Wakko struck Yakko’s leg, while Cleff smacked Yakko in the face with his pillow. Yakko laughed and held his pillow above his head before smacking Cleff in the chest.

“Oogh!” Cleff cried with a smile.

Wakko laughed before running behind Yakko and repeatedly bashing his back with the pillow. As the boys attacked each other, none of them paid attention to Dot, who stood on top of Yakko’s closet, her pillow raised above her head. She had a large, sharp-toothed grin on her face. When the boys stopped bashing each other for a moment, Dot jumped from the closet. As she fell, she managed to smack Yakko, Wakko, and Cleff with her pillow all at the same time, knocking them over. When Dot’s feet hit the ground, she walked to check on her brothers and Cleff. When she saw that their eyes were all still open, she giggled and started jumping up and down.

“I win! I win!” she cheered.

Yakko and Wakko laughed alongside her. Cleff simply watched Dot jump up and down.

“Ya sure did, sis,” Yakko said.

“Never mess with the Pillow Fight Champion of Burbank, California!” Dot flexed her muscle.

“One of these days I’ll getcha,” Wakko replied.

“Oh, I doubt that,” Dot said.

Dot smirked at Wakko, but Wakko didn’t say anything back. Instead, he yawned, and everyone watched. Then, Cleff yawned, then Dot, and then Yakko. A wave of drowsiness hit everyone in the room.

“I’m tired.” Wakko rubbed his eyes. “I’m going to bed.”

“Alright, goodnight, baby bro,” Yakko replied.

Wakko stood up, picked up his pillow, and walked out of Yakko’s bedroom. When he was gone, Yakko, Dot, and Cleff looked at each other.

“So,” Yakko began, “is anyone else tired? Because I’m tired too.”

“Yeah,” Dot said, “I hate it when you guys yawn. I’m gonna go to bed too.”

“Goodnight sis,” Yakko replied.

“Sweet dreams, Dot,” Cleff added.

“Goodnight, guys.” Dot smiled softly.

Dot walked out of Yakko’s room with her pillow. Now, only Yakko and Cleff remained. They laid on the floor and maintained eye contact for almost a minute before Yakko broke the silence.

“I’m gonna get some shut-eye myself,” Yakko said.

“Oh, um, you are?” Cleff rubbed his eye.

“Yeah,” Yakko explained, “I don’t think I can stay up much longer. You can stay up if you want.”

“Oh, um… um… OK.” Cleff sighed.

“Goodnight Cleff! I’ll see ya in the morning!”

“Goodnight Yakko.”

Yakko and Cleff got up, holding their pillows, and Yakko quickly tucked himself in and went to bed. Cleff’s eyes wandered around Yakko’s room. He looked at Yakko, fast asleep in his bed, Yakko’s desk, the closet that Dot jumped from earlier, the various maps on the wall, the musical instruments scattered around the room, and finally, the light switch on Yakko’s wall. Yakko was asleep under a bright, yellow light. No other lights were on in the room, but that light was so bright. Cleff knew that most people couldn’t sleep for too long if their lights were on, especially not if their lights were as bright as the one in Yakko’s room. Cleff didn’t want Yakko to have to wake up later to turn off the light if it was bothering him, so he tiptoed towards the light switch. However, instead of turning it off, he stared at it. He held his pillow tightly in his right hand, while his left hand balled into a fist. He shook, and sweat rolled down his green face. He gulped, and then, he finally put his left index finger above the light switch and turned Yakko’s light off. Suddenly, the room went completely dark. Cleff couldn’t see a thing. He blinked twice before sprinting for the exit.

Luckily, Dot left the door open, and Cleff made a quick escape. He dashed out of the hallway and into the living room. It wasn’t as dark as Yakko’s room was, but it was still a bit dim. Cleff could make out the room’s furniture. He looked around for a bit until he saw the Warners’ couch. Cleff ran to the couch, tightly clenching the pillow as if it were his life force, and once he got close enough, he plopped onto it and laid down on his back. He stared at the ceiling, holding the pillow over his body and breathing through his mouth. He put his index and middle finger over his neck, and he noticed his pulse was much faster than it normally was. He quickly removed his fingers and gulped.

“Am I having a panic attack?” Cleff asked himself quietly.

Cleff didn’t know why he got this way when it got dark. He was just like this for as long as he could remember. He was like this since he was a tadpole. He didn’t remember much of his life as a tadpole, but the one thing he did know about that time of his life was that one night, he heard a strange noise, and it scared him wide awake when he was trying to sleep. He cried for his Uncle Louis, but he didn’t come. Cleff never found out what that noise was, but a part of his brain decided that darkness itself was the problem, and that was the way it was. That was the way it was, and that was the way it stayed. Cleff tried to cure himself of his fear, but exposing himself to more darkness just made him more afraid, and Uncle Louis would usually just turn the lights on and tell Cleff to be nice to himself. The support was nice, but Cleff didn’t want support: he wanted a cure. He needed to stop being such a baby. The darkness couldn’t hurt him, and he was fifteen years old. Fifteen was far too old to be afraid of the dark in Cleff’s mind. All of his friends were younger than him, and none of them were scared of the dark. Also, he needed sleep. He needed light to sleep, but he couldn’t sleep in too much light. His trick was a nightlight. A nightlight brought some light, but it wasn’t too much.

Cleff couldn’t remember if he brought his nightlight. If he had his nightlight, he could just plug it in somewhere and he could go to sleep. He brought a backpack that had some stuff in it, but he was too scared to go check it. All he could do was lay on the couch and grip the pillow he was smacking the Warners with earlier. He was stuck there. Cleff groaned quietly and covered his face with the pillow.

Then, Cleff heard the sound of footsteps. He gasped and jolted into a sitting position. His hands remained on the pillow, and he held it like a weapon, just in case it was an intruder. He looked toward the tower door, but no one was there; that meant it couldn’t be an intruder. Cleff was slightly relieved, but it didn’t show on his face. His pupils had shrunk, and his mouth breathing grew shaky. He turned his head the other way, and he saw a tall figure approaching. Cleff knew there was only one person it could be, but his brain just wouldn’t let him relax.

“Cleff?” the figure asked, “are you here?”

Cleff shrieked for around half a second before dropping the pillow and covering his mouth. The figure briskly walked towards him, and once he got closer, Cleff could finally make out who he was: it was Yakko, exactly who he suspected. Cleff exhaled loudly.

“Are you OK, buddy?” Yakko asked.

“Oh, um, yeah!” Cleff lied, “I am perfectly fine.”

“Uhhhh, I dunno. That scream sure said otherwise,” Yakko said.

Cleff sighed. Did he really have to tell Yakko he was afraid of the dark? Why did he have to do that? What would Yakko think? Yakko would probably make fun of a fifteen-year-old who slept with a nightlight at his own house: most people would. That’s what Cleff thought. But what else could Cleff say to Yakko? Maybe he could tell Yakko to go away, but that would be mean, and he was happy that Yakko was around. If anything, he just wanted Yakko to stay with him for the rest of the night. If he couldn’t have a nightlight, companionship was the best thing.

“H-hey,” Cleff stuttered, “c-could you… could you st-stay with me? R-right here?”

“Sure thing!” Yakko smiled softly.

Cleff scooted to the left side of the couch, and Yakko sat beside him.

“So, um, what are you doing out here, Yakko?” Cleff asked.

“I was just thinkin’ about ya,” Yakko said, “I wanted to check on ya.”

“Really?” Cleff replied.

“Yeah. You didn’t seem too excited about the idea of going to sleep.”

“Yeah… I really wasn’t. I-I didn’t want to go to sleep.”

“Oh, are you not tired?”

“Oh, I am tired, it’s just… just… I’m scared!”

“Scared? Of the dark?”

Cleff nodded his head slowly before lowering it in shame.

“Aw.” Yakko put his hand on Cleff’s shoulder and smiled at him. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of!”

“It’s not?” Cleff looked at Yakko.

“Not at all!” Yakko explained, “everyone’s scared of something. Wakko’s scared of clowns, and I’ve got a few things that scare me. Dot… I don’t know what’s going on in that brain of hers, but she’s gotta have a fear or two.”

“That’s… actually a bit reassuring. Though, I’m not sure how to feel about you telling me about Wakko’s fear and me not hearing from him myself.”

“Oh, that’s for your safety. Wakko gets violent when he’s scared.”

“Oh, um, good to know!”

“Anyways, Cleff, you’ve got nothing to worry about here. You’re safe here, OK?”

“OK.”

Cleff smiled back at Yakko.

“Now,” Yakko began, “how do you sleep at home if you’re scared of the dark?”

“Promise not to laugh?” Cleff asked.

“Promise,” Yakko said.

“I… I still sleep with a nightlight.”

“Ah, I gotcha. Did ya bring a nightlight?”

“I don’t remember. I did bring a backpack though. Could… could you go check it for me?”

“Sure thing!”

Yakko pulled a flashlight out of hammerspace, turned it on, stood up, and wandered around the room. He walked in a few circles before he saw a blue backpack in the middle of the floor. He smiled at it, got on his knees, and started rummaging through it. He pulled out pajamas, a blanket, a phone charger, and headphones, but there wasn’t a nightlight.

“Nope, no nightlight in here,” Yakko said.

“Oh no,” Cleff replied, “I forgot…”

Cleff sighed and buried his head in his hands, trembling. Yakko stood up, and when he saw Cleff was trembling, he rushed to the couch, sat down, and pulled Cleff in for a hug. Yakko pat Cleff’s back.

“Hey, I gotcha,” Yakko whispered, “it’s gonna be OK.”

No response from Cleff. Yakko hugged Cleff until Cleff stopped shaking. Once Yakko let go, he started digging in hammerspace.

“What are you doing?” Cleff asked.

“Looking for something,” Yakko answered.

Then, Yakko pulled out a nightlight with a plug on it. It looked like a crescent moon. He stood up and plugged it into the nearest outlet. Soft, blue light filled the area, and Cleff could get a better look at Yakko’s facial features. Yakko gave Cleff a thumbs-up.

“There you go!” Yakko exclaimed, “how’s that?”

“Wow,” Cleff said, “thank you, Yakko.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Yakko replied, “friends help friends, ya know. Besides, if it was me, I know you’d help me too.”

Cleff smiled as Yakko pulled the blanket out of Cleff’s backpack. Cleff put the pillow underneath his head. Yakko walked over with the blanket and handed it to Cleff.

“Alright,” Yakko said, “how do you feel now?”

“Much better than before,” Cleff replied.

“Good. I’m gonna go back to sleep now, but before I go, take this.”

Yakko offered Cleff the flashlight, but he pointed it directly at his face. Cleff squeezed his eyes shut.

“Yakko, it’s still on!” Cleff cried, “it’s so bright!”

“Oh, sorry,” Yakko replied.

Yakko turned off the flashlight and tried to give it to Cleff again. This time, Cleff accepted it. He took the flashlight with a smile.

“Now you have some light,” Yakko explained.

“Thanks, Yakko,” Cleff said.

“No problem!” Yakko replied, “goodnight!”

“Goodnight Yakko!”

Yakko waved goodbye to Cleff and headed back to his bedroom. Cleff fiddled with the blanket until it covered his entire body. He gripped the flashlight tightly before turning his head and closing his eyes. It took him a few minutes to really fall asleep, but once he fell, he fell. As he slept, all he could think about was how grateful he was to have a friend like Yakko, always looking out for him and happy to help.

[yakkolicious-writing]

This Lot is Big Enough

"Movie studio backlot stock photo" by Movie Insider, Modifications: Resized to 3000x1055 pixels. is licensed under CC BY 2.0

Genre: Friendship Fandom: Animaniacs Central Relationship: Dot Warner & Silly Simmons (male OC) Wordcount: 19,816 words Summary: On a seemingly ordinary day on the Warner Bros. movie lot, Dot, Yakko, and Wakko help two people who look a lot like them out of some trash cans. Their names are Tilly and Silly Simmons, two rip-offs of the Warners. However, just because they're rip-offs does not make them evil, and the Warners quickly befriend them, much to the dismay of Thaddeus Plotz. Angry that the Simmons are still around and haven't been torn to shreds by the Warners, Plotz comes up with a plan to get rid of the Simmons permanently. Can the Warners stop Plotz, or are the Simmons doomed to be dipped? Warnings: This fic contains a murder attempt on a child character. Rating: T. Not suitable for younger audiences.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55827244/chapters/141743584

Whoa, took me a while to put this one on here, but this is one of my prouder fics! I honestly don't have a lot to say for this one, so I'll let the fic speak for itself. I hope you enjoy it!

[yakkolicious-writing]

I'll Love

Genre: Free Verse Poem Wordcount: 279 words Summary: A poem inspired by the 2024 presidential election. Warnings: This poem was based on the election, but no people are mentioned by name. Rating: G. Suitable for all audiences.

Hey everyone, I'm back! I haven't been doing so great these days for obvious reasons, but I wrote this little poem to help me cope. I hope that maybe it helps you too. I'm super proud of this one, and I hope what I learned in my poetry class last semester was put to good use here!

I step outside in the dead of the night, and the harsh wind chills my bones. I watch the moon as it carelessly shines on the place I once called home.

The place I have lived since I was a girl, green grass, hot sun, and striped flags. When the school bell rang, the teacher would say our home is great and ragtag.

I had no reason to doubt the teachers; my parents told me the same. Their love for this land runs through their bloodstreams: they fought like hell in war games.

Then the seasons changed, and I grew older. Bearded men conferred papers. Only one thing did not change, however: country love didn’t waver.

Blistering summer gave way to hot fall. Hysteria in the trees. Lives on the line, but my hope was a drug. Addiction took over me.

It’s over now, and I don’t know what’s next. My hope? Buried underground. I know I did not say I wanted this, but I want to come around.

Then, the cheerful moon’s bright rays battered me, and I looked towards the light. How can some people carry on so well when the world does not seem right?

Although terror won, goodness still exists. Stories with happy endings. Puppy dog tails, my mother’s warm embrace, the people I’m befriending.

Those little pictures I see on the screen, sharp as knives yet sweet as cake. Their good advice and funny jokes, but most, their love whenever I ache.

Hate is strong, but I am its greatest fear. Let them chide, but I will love. My hope is dead, but my soul still is not, so until that day, I’ll love.

[yakkolicious-writing]

Allan's Bad Hair Day

"Redken Hair Products at hair salon" by m01229, Modifications: Resized to 3000x1055 pixels is licensed under CC BY 2.0

Genre: Friendship, Fluff Fandom: Papa Louie Central Relationship: Allan & Pally Wordcount: 2,310 words Summary: Allan can't imagine living without his signature pompadour. His natural hair looks ugly to him. However, when Allan runs out of hair gel, he forces himself out of the house to buy more, getting a little bit of help along the way. Will Allan get his hair gel, or will he be stuck with long, plain hair for the rest of his days? Warnings: None Rating: G. Suitable for all audiences.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59284414

Hi everyone! I'm back with another Papa Louie fic after over five months! This is an idea I've had in mind for a while, based on a conversation about hair headcanons with my dear friend @magicmindless. Shout-out to her, pay her blog a visit, she's awesome! I hope you enjoy this!

“Beep! Beep! Beep!” the alarm clock screamed.

Allan woke up and slammed the off button on the clock with his fist. He sat up in his bed and stretched before standing up and walking to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. When people thought of Allan, one of the first things they thought of was his hair: specifically, the way his hair looked when it was styled into a pompadour. That’s the way Allan always styled it, and it made him feel confident and stylish. However, he needed a lot of hair gel to pull it off. Without hair gel, his hair was a lot more plain: straight, kind of long for a guy, and lacking in volume. That’s how his hair looked right now, but Allan was going to fix it right up. He rubbed his hands together before looking around his sink. He picked up a turquoise bottle of hair gel and opened the lid. He tried to squirt some onto his hand, but nothing came out.

“Huh?” Allan asked.

Allan started beating the bottom of the bottle, but still nothing came out. Next, he unscrewed the lid. There was nothing inside. Allan tossed the bottle in the trash can and opened all the drawers below the sink, looking for a similar bottle. However, there was nothing.

“There’s no way I’m completely out of hair gel,” Allan thought.

Allan closed all the drawers and began running around his house, desperately looking for hair gel. However, he couldn’t find anything. Once he was certain that he’d checked everywhere, Allan sighed and plopped onto his sofa. Now what? He couldn’t go out looking like this. What if people saw him with his hair down? They’d probably laugh at how ridiculous he looks, and Allan hated being laughed at. He just wanted to hide from the world, but he couldn’t hide forever. There were hockey matches to win, Papaccinos to brew, groceries to buy, and fun to be had. Allan walked to his bedroom and opened his closet. There, he saw a black drawstring hoodie with the logo of the Tastyville Cold Cuts, the hockey team he played for, on it. That’s when he got an idea.

“Hey,” he said to himself, “how about I go out wearing this hoodie while I look for some hair gel? Then, nobody has to see my hair!”

Allan snapped his fingers and grinned. He changed out of his pajamas and into the hoodie, a pair of jeans, and shoes. After eating a banana and brushing his teeth, Allan rushed out the door, grabbed his keys, and hopped into his car. He pulled the hoodie over his head before starting the car, and then, he began driving.

“Maybe there’s hair gel at the Cloudberry Beauty Salon,” Allan thought.

Allan drove to the heart of Tastyville. He turned left right before Papa’s Pizzeria, and there, he saw the beauty salon. He parked his car just outside of the building and turned it off. When he got out, he dusted off his hoodie and pulled the drawstrings before walking inside. The doorbell rang when he came in, and a cheery love song was playing softly, but the room was silent otherwise. There were only two customers inside: Mindy was giving Rita a haircut, while Vicky was painting the nails of a woman that Allan didn’t recognize. Allan sat down in a cushy blue armchair. His hoodie almost completely covered his face, but he could still see his surroundings. Mindy was the first person to notice Allan back.

“Oh, hiya!” she said, “welcome to the Cloudberry Beauty Salon!”

“Hi,” Allan replied.

“You know, I can’t see your face,” Mindy began, “are you here for a haircut?”

“No, I just wanted to ask about your, uh, haircare products. Do you sell anything here?”

“We sure do! Whatcha lookin’ for?”

“Hair gel, turquoise bottle.”

“What brand?”

Allan looked down. He didn’t know what brand his hair gel was. All he knew was that it was the brand that came in a turquoise bottle. None of the other brands of hair gel came in a bottle that color, and that was how he knew that it was the one he liked. He just didn’t remember what it was actually called.

“You still there?” Mindy asked.

“Yeah!” Allan answered, “it’s just… I don’t know the actual name of the brand. I kinda just know it by the bottle color.”

“Oh, alright.” Mindy took a snip of Rita’s hair. “I can take a look for you. After I’m done with Rita, that is.”

Rita giggled. When Mindy finished cutting Rita’s hair, she went to a shelf behind a counter with a cash register on it. She ran her fingers over several bottles and boxes. Some of them were turquoise, but they weren’t hair gel: they were dry shampoos, conditioners, and hairsprays.

“Sorry, sir,” Mindy said, “we don’t have anything like what you’re talking about.”

“Thanks anyways,” Allan replied, “hey, since you’re a hairstylist, do you have any recommendations for stores where I can look?”

“Oh, yeah!” Mindy exclaimed, “I love to shop, especially at the Whiskview Mall, I assume you’ve been there, everyone has. Anyways, there’s this cosmetics store called Bellflower that carries all sorts of haircare products. Maybe you could find your hair gel there?”

“OK, I can look there. Thanks Mindy.”

“You’re welcome!”

Allan stood up, waved goodbye to Mindy, and walked out the door. Mindy sighed, when suddenly, she realized something.

“How did that guy know my name?” Mindy asked herself.

Allan left the beauty salon, loosened the hoodie, and began driving to Whiskview Mall, jamming to the songs on the radio as he went. The drive was long yet peaceful, with not many cars driving nearby him. When he made it to the mall, he parked in a spot far away from the entrance. He pulled on the drawstrings again and got out of the car. As he walked to the door, Allan looked around to make sure nobody could see him. There were lots of people walking to the mall, but none of them were particularly interested in him. A few times, Allan would meet someone’s gaze, and Allan would quickly look away.

Once Allan made it to the door, his hands were buried in his pockets. He’d actually never heard of Bellflower before; normally, he’d get his hair gel from the local Fluffmart, but he shopped there too regularly to risk being seen with his hair looking so shabby. However, if Mindy recommended Bellflower, then he was going to go there. Mindy was a hairdresser, after all; why wouldn’t she know what she was talking about? There was only one problem: Allan didn’t know where Bellflower was. He was going to need to find a map so he knew where he was going. Allan looked around, and soon, he found a map on a screen, between Papa’s Bakeria, Cecilia’s Dance Studio, SmellBound, and Fashion Flambé. Allan gasped and approached the map.

Before Allan could make it, his eyes wandered, and he saw his friend Pally walk out of Fashion Flambé, struggling to carry four shopping bags. She stumbled around, laughing to herself but clearly unhappy. Allan couldn’t let her struggle on her own. He walked to her and took his hands out of his pockets.

“Do you need help with those?” Allan asked.

“Yeah, that would- wait, Allan?” Pally said.

“Uh, who?” Allan replied.

“Allan, I know your voice when I hear it. Also, what’s up with the hoodie? I can’t see your face!”

“Listen, Pally, you can’t let anybody see me like this.” Allan put his hands on Pally’s shoulders. “I ran out of hair gel and my hair looks awful.”

“Oh, I doubt that. Allan, when do you not look great?”

“When I run out of hair gel.”

Pally didn’t try to argue. Allan thought for a moment. A part of him wanted to show Pally just how horrible he looked, but on the other hand, what if anyone else saw? What if they laughed at him? What if… nobody cared? Before, Allan was convinced everyone he didn’t know would laugh at him, but now, he remembered that most people didn’t have anything to gain from looking at a guy whose natural hair doesn’t look great. Maybe he could show Pally and nothing bad would happen. Allan sighed and pulled off his hoodie, revealing his frowning face and his hair. Pally only smiled at him.

“It looks horrible, doesn’t it?” Allan asked.

“I don’t think so,” Pally said, “I think you look really nice!”

“You do?” Allan replied.

“Yeah! Sure, it’s not how you normally look, but you really shouldn’t feel ashamed of going out in public like this.”

“Thanks Pally.”

Allan took Pally’s bags with a soft smile.

“Thank you, Allan,” she said.

“No prob,” Allan replied, “I came here to buy some hair gel. Mindy at the Cloudberry Beauty Salon recommended coming here and going to some shop called Bellflower. Have you ever been there?”

“Yeah, I have!” Pally exclaimed, “they’ve got all kinds of makeup and haircare stuff for girls. They probably have hair gel.”

“I mean, yeah, but I’m specifically looking for the kind I normally buy.”

“What’s it called?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that it comes in a turquoise bottle, and it’s the only brand of hair gel I know of that does.”

“Turquoise bottle, huh?”

Allan nodded.

“Well,” Pally began, “that may not be the most specific description, but I think we can work with that! Come on, let’s go to Bellflower.”

Pally led the way, and Allan followed close behind, holding her bags. The two rode up the escalator, and walked past the arcade and the pharmacy. There, they found Bellflower. Pally motioned to Allan, and the two of them walked inside. They saw tons of women. Some walked around and browsed, while others tested out foundation and lipstick. A few of the women were mothers, watching as their daughters who appeared elementary-aged tried out skin creams.

“Oh no,” Allan whispered as he walked.

“What’s the matter?” Pally asked with a frown.

“There’s too many girls here!” Allan whisper-shouted, “why would they sell stuff for guys if all their regular customers are women?”

“Don’t worry, Allan. I know there are men’s aisles here, they’re just less crowded.”

Pally looked around, and she saw a sign overhead that said “men’s haircare.” She pointed at it and grinned. Allan looked up at the sign and gasped happily. He sprinted to the aisle, giggling triumphantly. Pally followed him there, but aside from her, nobody else was in the aisle. Once he could see more clearly, Allan examined each product carefully. He picked up many turquoise bottles, but none of them were hair gel. When he reached the end of the aisle, he began to worry. What would he do next if the mall didn’t have his hair gel? Would he have to go out looking like this more often? He took one last look, and suddenly, he found one last turquoise bottle. He picked it up and began to read it.

“Lanai Styling Gel,” he read, “hey! This is my hair gel!”

“Yay!” Pally exclaimed, “and now you know what it’s called for next time!”

Pally walked up to Allan and took the bottle of hair gel from him with a smile.

“How many bottles do you want?” Pally asked.

“As many as you can carry,” Allan explained, “I like having lots on me so I don’t have to worry about it.”

Pally grabbed four more bottles of hair gel, and the two went to the check-out. Pally placed the bottles on the countertop, and a young man with golden blond hair rung them up.

“Hey,” the cashier said, “this is the hair gel I use!”

“Is it?” Allan asked with a smile.

“Sure is!” the cashier replied, “it’s good stuff. I totally don’t blame you for buying so much of it.”

Everyone giggled. The cashier put the bottles of hair gel in a white bag that said “Bellflower” on it. Pally picked up the bag with a smile.

“I’ll take that,” she told Allan, “since you’re carrying all my bags.”

“Thanks Pally,” Allan replied.

Allan paid for the hair gel, and then, he and Pally waved goodbye to the cashier and left the beauty store.

“I can’t thank you enough for helping me out,” Allan said, “I thought I’d have to look like this for a while!”

“Hey, what else are friends for?” Pally asked.

“Weeeeell,” Allan began, “friends also do fun stuff together. That’s something else friends are for.”

“OK, you got me there! Do you wanna go do something fun? If you want? I know you’re a little insecure about your hair right now.”

Allan set Pally’s bags down and flipped his hair with his hand. He always thought of it as a bit homely before, but Pally didn’t seem to mind, and nobody else at the mall seemed to either. Maybe it wasn’t so bad like this. If nobody cared, then why should he let it stop him from having fun with one of his best friends? He picked Pally’s bags up and smiled at her.

“You know, we passed by the arcade earlier,” Allan noted, “how about we go play some Stomp Stomp Institution or something?”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that!” Pally exclaimed.

Allan and Pally laughed, and they began racing each other to the arcade, bags in hand. Sure, Allan may have preferred his pompadour to his natural hairdo, but the rest of the world didn’t care how he wore his hair, and sometimes, the world not caring was a good thing. This was one of those times, and now that he knew that, he wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of his fun.

[yakkolicious-writing]

How I Saved My Cutie Sleep

"After-Pink Bedroom" by Tami Hills, Modifications: Resized to 3000x1055 pixels is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Genre: Family Fandom: Animaniacs Central Relationships: Dot & Yakko Warner and Dot & Wakko Warner Wordcount: 9,800 words Summary: Things have been anything but peaceful for Dot Warner ever since Yakko started a band. When his constant practicing gets in the way of her cutie sleep, Dot decides to take matters into her own hands with a little help from Wakko. Can Dot finally make Yakko be quiet? Warnings: There is a loud rant and there is a brief mention of drugging, but aside from that, none. Rating: G. Suitable for all audiences.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56970508/chapters/144871834

Hi everyone! Back again with another finished fic! This is one of the fics in my Groove AU, an Animaniacs AU where I age up the Warners and put Yakko in a band. It's the latest in a series on AO3. I do have a blog for the AU, but I'm not going to link it because I've been inactive there, unfortunately. I hope you enjoy this fic though! I had lots of fun with it, I wrote it from Dot's point-of-view!

[yakkolicious-writing]

The Obituary

"Graveyard at Night" by Rennett Stowe, Modifications: Resized to 3000x1055 pixels is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Fandom: Animaniacs Central Relationship: Yakko, Dot, & Wakko Warner Wordcount: 2,612 words Summary: Yakko knew something was off about today, and he was right. Today, a certain "special friend" of the Warners, one Yakko didn't like to think about, made his way into the morning paper, forcing Yakko to confront his regrets with how he dealt with the situation. With Dot and Wakko's love and support, can Yakko realize that one mistake, no matter how severe, does not determine his worth as a person? Warnings: This story discusses death and uncomfortable implications of "Chairman of the Bored," a segment of Animaniacs 1993. Rating: T. Not suitable for younger audiences.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56754184

This is probably the single most angsty fic I've written. Lately I've been struggling to continue Animaniacs (I actually haven't seen the full series yet), but Chairman of the Bored is my single least favorite segment, mostly because of Pip Pumphandle, the special friend the Warners have in that episode. If you haven't seen Chairman of the Bored yet... brace yourself. It's something, to say the least. I wrote this fic to give myself some closure so I can get back to watching the show. I hope you enjoy this!

There was something off about today. Yakko didn’t know what it was, but he could just tell something was off. Everything seemed normal in Burbank today: the morning sky was a peaceful light blue, the sun shone just as brightly as it always did, the birds sang happily, and the Warner Bros. staff were just as busy as ever. Surely anyone else would’ve said this was a normal day. If the day seemed so normal though, then why did Yakko feel like something strange was going to happen?

Yakko jumped out of the tower and grabbed the morning newspaper. Yakko liked to stay informed, and his way of doing that was reading newspapers. Maybe it was a little old-fashioned, but he liked the way the papers felt in his hands, and seeing the words in print made them easier for him to take in. Yakko smiled at his unread paper before jumping back up to the water tower and opening the door. He saw Wakko and Dot sitting at the kitchen table. Wakko was busy scarfing down a copious number of grapes, while Dot adjusted the cute little yellow flower in her ears: normal sibling stuff. Yakko closed the door behind him and grinned at the paper.

“Morning paper!” Yakko exclaimed in a singsong voice.

“Yeah yeah,” Dot said, “you got your newspaper.”

“Sis, it’s important to keep up with world events and the news,” Yakko explained, “it keeps ya smart, and knowledge is power.”

“But it’s so depressing!” Wakko whined.

“Yeah, sometimes,” Yakko replied, “but sometimes there’s something sweet in here! Or something really satisfying.”

“Satisfying.” As Yakko said that, he felt his stomach drop. Why? It was just a word. What was his body trying to tell him? Should he not have said that? Was something satisfying going to happen? Was something unsatisfying going to happen? There were so many things that it could be that it just left Yakko confused and worried. This day was shaping up to be anything but normal, and not in the “having fun with his siblings” kind of way.

Yakko sighed and opened the newspaper. As he flipped through the black-and-white pages, he saw the usual stuff: political news, the weather, sports coverage, comics with art styles that screamed that they’ve been going for a while, and the daily crossword puzzle, Yakko’s favorite. Yakko took a moment to examine the crossword and its clues for a moment, his tail wagging as he did so. Dot looked over at Yakko, saw his tail wagging, and giggled.

“Aw, does Yakko love his crosswords?” Dot asked.

Yakko promptly grabbed his tail and only let go when he was certain it had stopped wagging, not saying a word to Dot. Then, he resumed looking through the newspaper. Eventually, Yakko saw the obituaries. Obituaries, though not as gloomy as the political news, were still quite depressing. Usually, Yakko would skim through the obituaries with a frown before moving onto something else, just so he could have the knowledge, and that’s what he tried to do today. Yakko looked at the obituaries and saw if there was anything interesting. At first, everything seemed normal: a seventy-eight-year-old man who died of a heart attack, a ninety-year-old woman who passed peacefully in her sleep, a forty-two-year-old father who died of cancer. Yakko didn’t know any of these people, but they seemed like fine people who were very loved, and he felt sorry for their loved ones. This is why the obituaries were so gloomy: it was always the better people who ended up on those pages. Sometimes someone who was a bit more morally dubious ended up on the pages, but it wasn’t too common.

As Yakko read through the obituaries, he saw something unusually interesting. A sixty-three-year-old man was hit by a bus. His eyes bulged, alerting Wakko and Dot.

“What did you find, Yakko?” Dot asked.

“This is the most interesting obituary I’ve read in a while,” Yakko began, “this old guy got hit by a bus!”

“Whoa!” Wakko said.

“Is there anything else?” Dot asked.

“Let me see,” Yakko replied.

Yakko began to read the obituary in more detail.

“He was hit by a bus on July 15th,” he began, “he was known for his rich life experiences and his strong desire for human connection. Family members remember his stories about his many meetings with celebrities fondly for how they aided their sleep. In his spare time, he could be found socializing at parties and bonding with people over cheese balls.”

The Warners’ faces sunk. Now, Yakko knew why today felt so off. Yakko read the title of the obituary. It read “Pumphandle, Francis ‘Pip.’” He looked at the photograph next to the obituary, and there was Pip’s face. The same droopy eyelids, slightly wrinkled face, and bald spot on the top of his head as there was when the Warners first had the misfortune of meeting him. Wakko and Dot leaned over to read the newspaper, and they saw Pip’s photograph as well.

“Pip died?!” Wakko asked.

“Looks like it,” Yakko answered.

“He was so young!” Dot cried, “well, actually, not really, but still.”

“Whoever wrote this sounds like they couldn’t come up with a lot of nice things to say about him,” Wakko said.

“Yeah, I think you’re right, Wakko,” Yakko replied, “seriously, who would actually put that he ‘bonds with people over cheese balls’ in an obituary unless you had nothing really nice to say about him but don’t want to be mean? That’s like saying a cult leader had great people skills!”

The Warners smiled and laughed at Yakko’s joke and how ridiculous the obituary was. However, after a moment, Yakko’s smile faded into a frown and his laughter died. He looked away from his siblings as they hooted and hollered, Dot occasionally cackling like a witch on helium. Wakko and Dot didn’t seem to notice that Yakko stopped laughing, and when Yakko noticed that, he sighed. He handed the newspaper to Dot, who took it without hesitation, and sat crisscross on the sofa.

Yakko had a lot of feelings about the day they met Pip. To say that day was a good one for him and his siblings would be the worst lie ever told. Pip would not stop talking about the time he met Bob Barker, and he would do anything to finish his story. When the Warners tried to leave, Pip was on the bus they were on. When they got home, Pip was inside the water tower. The Warners got no sleep that night thanks to Pip. Pip even decided he would take part in their bedtime routine at the same time as the Warners. Why Pip thought that was a good idea is a mystery that Yakko will never know the answer to. What Yakko did know was that Pip decided to sit in the bathtub with him and Wakko, and when it was time for bed, Pip had claimed Wakko’s bed before Wakko could, forcing the brothers to share Yakko’s. The Warners didn’t do anything to Pip other than make sarcastic jokes at his expense: he wasn’t outright hostile to them in the way a lot of unscrupulous figures they met were. Even then, Pip was so determined to tell his story that he didn’t seem to care that the Warners didn’t like him. Pip eventually left, but the silence he left was so deafening that the Warners chased him down, begging for another story: they didn’t find him, much to Yakko’s relief looking back.

It was only after Pip had been gone for a few days that Yakko let what he did to him and his siblings sink in. Pip had basically stalked him and his siblings, got in the bath with him and Wakko, and stole Wakko’s bed all for a story that ended in Bob Barker eating a bologna and cheese ball sandwich. Yakko was horrified that he let this happen. The Warners didn’t have any trusted adults in their lives. The closest was Dr. Scratchansniff, but he could be a killjoy sometimes. Yakko wouldn’t dare tell Scratchansniff about Pip anyways: it would only tell him that he was a failure of an older brother. Without any trusted adults, Yakko was often seen as the guardian of the Warners. He didn’t like to be seen as a father figure, just a cool older brother, and Wakko and Dot helped to take care of him too some days, but as the oldest of the Warners, he felt it was his job to make sure the chaos that he and his siblings got into wasn’t too much for them. This was absolutely too much. By not hitting Pip with a mallet or crushing him with an anvil when he had the chance, Yakko put not only himself, but also his siblings in danger. Most days, Yakko tried not to think about it, but now, Pip was relevant again. He was gone, but he only recently died, meaning that Yakko had to think about Pip and their fateful meeting once more. He hated thinking about it. It was a cruel reminder that something needed to be done, but nothing was done. For Yakko, it made him feel like the worst person on the planet.

It was only when Dot realized she was holding the newspaper that she realized that Yakko moved. She stopped laughing and looked around the tower before seeing Yakko on the couch. She elbowed Wakko to get him to stop laughing, and he too looked at Yakko.

“What’s wrong, Yakko?” Wakko asked.

“Why’d you move?” Dot added.

“I’m thinking about when we met Pip,” Yakko said, “how he wouldn’t stop shaking our hands… we traded each other off… we tried to run away from him but he followed us home… he… he got in the bath with me and Wakko! He stole Wakko’s bed! And I did nothing about it!”

Wakko and Dot’s eyes switched focus between each other and Yakko as he ranted. Yakko’s eyes filled with tears, and his fists were clenched in balls of rage. Why did he let that happen? Why did he put his siblings in so much danger? How could he sleep at night? Yakko got up, stormed to his room, and slammed the door behind him. Wakko and Dot’s eyes shrunk when they heard the slam. They exchanged glances, but those glances were all they needed to know that they knew what they needed to do. They jumped out of their chairs and ran to Yakko’s room. They knocked incessantly, Wakko with both of his fists.

“Yakko, open the door!” Wakko cried.

“We’ll bust down your door if we have to,” Dot began, “and then we’ll replace it, because we love ya!”

Dot and Wakko only stopped knocking when they heard Yakko’s footsteps. Yakko opened the door. He looked a lot more tired than he did before he ran off. His eyelids drooped, as did his slightly reddened face. His frown looked plastered on, and it caused his entire face to sag. Wakko and Dot both gave Yakko their best puppy eyes.

“Can we come in?” Dot asked.

“Sure,” Yakko said, “why not.”

Yakko walked back into his room, Dot and Wakko not far behind. Yakko plopped onto his bed, grabbed his pillow, put it against his face, and began to scream into it. Wakko sat next to Yakko and patted his back gently. Dot stood up with her arms crossed.

“Jeez, Yakko, you’re a mess,” she said.

“Dot!” Wakko glared at his little sister.

“OK, OK, maybe that was a little mean,” Dot said, “I’m sorry, Yakko. It’s just… I’ve never seen you this upset before.”

Yakko lifted his head from the pillow and sniffled.

“I hate myself,” Yakko said.

“Don’t hate yourself, Yakko!” Wakko replied, “we’re not mad at you.”

“You should be,” Yakko began, “I’m supposed to be looking out for you guys. Of course, we’re all supposed to look out for one another, it’s what good siblings do, but… I shouldn’t have let him so close to us. I understand he wasn’t exactly a jerk in the same way a lot of the people we meet are, but there’s a point that shouldn’t be crossed, and Pip crossed that point and we did nothing about it. I did nothing about it…”

Dot put her hand on Yakko’s shoulder. He looked at her and sniffled.

“Yakko,” Dot explained, “we’re not mad at you. That was a long time ago. None of us knew what to do with Pip. He was just so… strange, you know?”

“Yeah,” Yakko replied.

“You know, I was mad at you in the moment when you swapped our hands out and made me listen to Pip,” Dot said, “but I don’t think I would’ve done anything differently than you, especially since I swapped myself out for Wakko.”

“Yeah, you did do that,” Wakko replied, “but I probably would’ve swapped myself for one of you two if I had to talk to him first. After eating all those cheese balls, that is.”

Dot, Wakko, and Yakko chuckled, Yakko wiping a tear from his eyes with his finger.

“I just… I just wish things went a little differently that day,” Yakko said.

“Pip drove us crazy, Yakko,” Dot replied, “when he finally left us alone, we wanted to hear more from him! For some reason!”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Yakko agreed, “but either way, we’ve got each other now, and Pip… well, considering what happened that one time we were in Sweden, I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again anytime soon.”

Wakko and Dot hugged Yakko as tightly as they could. Yakko smiled at each of them for a moment before wrapping his arms around them as well and closing his eyes. The Warners hugged each other for ten minutes straight until they decided they had enough.

“I think I’ve had enough news for one day,” Yakko said.

“Me too,” Wakko added, “all that thinking made me hungry.”

“But you just had a ton of grapes!” Dot replied.

“I know! I’m hungrier now!” Wakko explained.

“I’m a bit, uh, too shaken, right now, to uh, make breakfast or anything like that,” Yakko began, “so why don’t we get dressed up and go out for waffles or something?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Wakko answered.

“Sounds like a plan to me!” Dot added.

Wakko and Dot ran out of Yakko’s room, and Yakko beamed. He couldn’t change the past. He couldn’t change his feelings. If Yakko could make it so he and his siblings never met Pip Pumphandle, he’d do it in a heartbeat. However, that wasn’t the way the world worked. Life was full of experiences, some fun and others not so much. All that Yakko could do was be the best older brother he could be. He felt he wasn’t perfect by any means, but even after what had happened with Pip, Wakko and Dot still loved him dearly, and that was enough for him. Whether Yakko deserved forgiveness or not was something he wasn’t sure if he would ever know, but if Wakko and Dot felt he did, then that meant the world. Pip was gone now, but Yakko, Wakko, and Dot were still here, together, on the Warner Bros. movie lot, in the water tower, just the three of them. Now, they could enjoy some waffles together, and hopefully, Yakko could move on from the day he and his siblings had the misfortune of meeting Pip. It wouldn’t be easy, but with the two best younger siblings he could ask for by his side, Yakko knew that he had people to lean on.

[yakkolicious-writing]

Brotherly Love

"Oldest child bedroom 001" by Tim Evanson, Modifications: Resized to 3000x1055 pixels is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Family Fandom: Animaniacs Central Relationship: Wakko Warner & Yakko Warner Wordcount: 1,473 words Summary: When Wakko tries to get a glass of milk in the middle of the night, he hears crying coming from Yakko's bedroom. What's going on? Warnings: None Rating: G. Suitable for all audiences.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56653579

I'm back with a new one-shot! This is an alternate universe one-shot that isn't canon-compliant at all. The Warners are children in 1930s America in this story. Yakko is five, Wakko is two, and Dot is a newborn. The Warners also have parents (loosely based on Sir William the Good and Princess Angelina Contessa II) in this story! I hope you enjoy it!

It was a quiet, peaceful night at the Warner Bros. water tower. Everyone was asleep except for Wakko Warner. It was midnight, and he had been put to bed at eight, but he couldn’t sleep; he was thirsty. He needed a glass of milk, but he didn’t know how to get it. Normally, he would call for his mother, and she would bring him a glass, but ever since his little sister Dot was born, she became preoccupied with her. She didn’t leave Dot much either, as Dot would cry every time she was separated from her. Mom was out of the question, but what about Dad? He might’ve been asleep at the moment, but maybe Wakko could ask him for help. All he had to do was get out of bed to make sure.

Wakko rolled off the side of his bed, landing on his belly with a thud. He was silent for a moment, but he giggled afterwards and crawled to his bedroom door. He looked up at the doorknob. He couldn’t reach it like this. He reached his hand up, but he still couldn’t reach it. Wakko stuck his tongue out slightly as he realized what he would need to do: he had to stand up. He wasn’t particularly good at standing or walking yet, but if he was going to ask Dad for milk, he had to try. Wakko stood up with a grunt and reached his hand up. He opened and closed his hand rapidly as he tried to grab onto the doorknob. Wakko jumped, and once he did so, he managed to grab the doorknob. He gasped and grinned, and his tail began to wag like that of a dog who had just been handed a bone. Wakko turned the knob, and the door cracked open just enough that Wakko could walk out. Wakko giggled and hobbled out the door.

It was strange to be in the tower hallway all alone. Neither Dad nor Mom was there to guide him. It was just Wakko and his little feet against the world. His first instinct was to check his parents’ and Dot’s bedroom, since his parents slept in the same bed. He never understood why anyone would want to sleep in the same bed as someone else, even if they loved each other. Wakko loved Dot and his older brother Yakko, but he wouldn’t want to sleep in the same bed as them. He liked having his own bed, where he could stretch out as much as he wanted to. Regardless, apparently Mom and Dad liked to do that, so their bedroom would be the first place he’d check. Wakko walked as quickly as his little legs would let him. He stumbled every once in a while, but he walked very well for a thirsty two-year-old.

Before Wakko could make it to his parents’ bedroom, he heard muffled crying. His ears perked up, and he turned his head to the nearest door: the door to Yakko’s bedroom. He hobbled closer to it, and the crying continued. He also heard a sweet voice trying to comfort the crier.

“Hey, hey,” the voice said, “it’ll be alright, Yak. Monsters aren’t real. They won’t getcha.”

Wakko’s heart sunk as he realized it was his father trying to comfort Yakko. Yakko! For as long as Wakko could remember, Yakko was never upset. He always had a smile on his face and something to say, whether it was something sweet or something funny. Nightmares were for little kids, like Wakko and Dot, not big kids like Yakko. Why was he of all people having a nightmare? This wasn’t right. Yakko wasn’t supposed to have nightmares.

As much as he wanted milk, Wakko wanted to see if Yakko was doing alright first. Wakko did as he did before and jumped, grabbing onto the doorknob, turning, and opening the door just enough so he could walk inside. The door creaked as he opened it, and Yakko and his father’s eyes focused on Wakko. Both of them went silent, Yakko only sniffling once. They sat on Yakko’s bed, side by side, the brothers’ father’s hand on Yakko’s shoulder. Wakko waddled into the room, his tongue hanging from his mouth, and he looked up at his dad and older brother.

“Wakko, honey,” Dad began, “Daddy needs to talk to Yakko right now. Could you go someplace else and wait? Wait, how did you even get out of your room?”

Wakko giggled.

“He’s smart, Dad,” Yakko said with a sniffle.

“Smart!” Wakko repeated.

“That you are,” Dad replied, “anyways, go someplace else, Wakko.”

“No!” Wakko shook his head.

Dad sighed and looked at Wakko curiously, putting his free hand on his hip.

“Why don’t you wanna leave?” Dad asked, “ya thirsty?”

Wakko gave his father the stink eye. He was right about him being thirsty, but that didn’t matter right now. Right now, Yakko was crying, and he wasn’t supposed to do that. Yakko was more important than anything else.

“No,” Wakko answered, “sad.”

“You’re sad?” Dad asked, “how come?”

“Yakko’s sad,” Wakko said.

Yakko sniffled and started to cry again. Dad patted his shoulder gently, when Wakko got an idea. He hobbled towards Yakko’s bed and grabbed onto it, wagging his tail. He grunted and jumped up and down, but he couldn’t seem to get up. As Yakko sobbed and sobbed, Dad noticed Wakko trying to get on the bed. He took his hand off Yakko’s shoulder and held his arms out for Wakko. When Wakko saw his dad’s arms, he walked over to him. Once he was in-between his dad’s hands, Dad picked Wakko up and set him on the bed. Wakko quickly looked at Yakko as he cried. So many tears were streaming down his cheeks that his entire face looked drenched, and his blue striped pajamas were a bit wet as well. His normally white face had turned red in the middle. Whenever Yakko would take a small break from crying, he would shake and shiver. Wakko hated seeing Yakko like this. He was so… scared. Yakko wasn’t the type to get scared too often. He had to make him feel better, but how? Whenever Wakko had a nightmare and Yakko saw, Yakko would try to make him smile, usually by telling him a joke or singing him a song, sometimes by picking him up, giving him a hug, and telling him that everything was going to be alright in the end. Wakko didn’t know how to tell a joke or sing a song, and he wasn’t strong enough to pick Yakko up, but he could try to hug Yakko and share some comforting words, even if he didn’t know too many.

Wakko wrapped his arms around Yakko’s arm and closed his eyes. Yakko looked down at him, teardrops shimmering in his eyes.

“Huh?” Yakko asked.

Wakko did not reply. He squeezed Yakko’s arm as tightly as he could. It didn’t hurt Yakko. It felt like a nice hug, just around his arm instead of around his entire body like a conventional hug.

“It’s OK, Yakko,” Wakko said, “it’s OK.”

Yakko sniffled and shook. He wanted to tell Wakko a lot of the stuff he told Dad before he came in, but he didn’t want to scare Wakko either. All he did was watch Wakko in silence.

“I love you,” Wakko whispered.

The boys’ father’s eyes glistened with joy, and a massive smile appeared on his face.

“That’s the first time Wakko’s ever said ‘I love ya,’” he whispered.

Yakko’s frown grew softer and softer before eventually it turned into a smile. Tears were still in his eyes, but instead of tears of fear, they became tears of love. Yakko wrapped his arms around Wakko with a grin, and Wakko smiled back at his older brother.

“Look at my boys, they’re so sweet,” Dad softly said, “I’m so glad they love each other.”

Wakko and Yakko’s dad stood up, put his hands on his hips, and looked at his sons, still hugging each other, Yakko looking much happier than he did before.

“Hey, since the two of you are here,” he began, “would you like me to get you boys anything?”

“I’m fine, Dad,” Yakko said, “Wakko’s making me feel better.”

“That’s good,” Dad replied, “how about you, Wakko?”

“Milk!” Wakko exclaimed.

The boys giggled, and Wakko’s tail wagged rapidly.

“Alright,” Dad said, “if milk is what you want, then milk you shall get. I’ll be right back!”

The Warners’ father waved to Wakko and Yakko before slipping out of the bedroom. Once he left, Yakko and Wakko focused their eyes on each other. Nightmares weren’t fun, but Wakko knew he could count on Yakko whenever he had one. Now, Yakko knew that he could count on Wakko when he had a nightmare too.

[yakkolicious-writing]

Dumped: You'll Be OK, JFK!

Genre: General Fandom: Clone High Central Relationship: JFK & Thomas Jefferson (male OC) Wordcount: 21,951 words Summary: After the prom, JFK thought that he and Joan were the new it couple at Clone High. However, JFK quickly learns that Joan didn't feel the same way, and she introduces him to her new boyfriend: the nerdy clone of Thomas Jefferson. Bad things upon bad things happen to JFK, and he begins to think that the world is against him. Angry, he declares Thomas his archnemesis. Will JFK take down Thomas and win Joan's heart, or will he have to accept that Joan has moved on? Or will JFK learn that neither Thomas nor Joan are who they seem to be? Warnings: This story contains mentions of sex, swearing including misogynistic slurs, and an abusive relationship. Rating: M. Mature audiences only.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54029185/chapters/136775956

Hoo boy, this fic is WAY more adult than my normal fare. It's not more adult than Clone High itself, but it's rated M for a reason, specifically the sex mentions and slurs. This fic takes place in an alternate universe where I retcon some of the events of Season 1, Episode 13. Specifically, the prom was held in the gym and the Board of Shadowy Figures didn't catch on to Scudworth's plan, so the clones weren't frozen. In addition, I will admit that I'm a Joan hater and that she is NOT a good person in this fic. She's the main antagonist, actually, so diehard Joan fans might want to skip this one. I hope you like it!

[yakkolicious-writing]

Strawberry Shortcake and the Peril of Porcupine Peak

Genre: Friendship, Adventure Fandom: Strawberry Shortcake Central Relationship: Strawberry Shortcake, Orange Blossom, Huckleberry Pie, Ginger Snap, Lemon Meringue, & Plum Pudding Wordcount: 16,872 words Summary: Strawberry Shortcake has just moved to Strawberryland. Expecting a quiet, peaceful life with close friends, her plans are quickly put to a stop by the Peculiar Purple Pieman of Porcupine Peak, who stole almost all of the fruit in Strawberryland. Now, Strawberry and her five new friends: Orange Blossom, Huckleberry Pie, Ginger Snap, Plum Pudding, and Lemon Meringue, must go on a dangerous quest to the Pie Tin Palace to retrieve it. Will they succeed, or will the Pieman get the fruit supply under his control? Warnings: This story contains mentions of death as well as a near-death experience, but nothing too severe. Rating: G. Suitable for all audiences.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53681014/chapters/135888394

Hi everyone! I decided I'd post my longer fics to this blog as well. I'm not going to copy-paste the entire fic here since it's so long, so you're going to have to use the AO3 link for this one. If you're wondering what generation of Strawberry Shortcake this fic is meant to be, it's not any of them. It takes elements I like from each generation (even BBA and BITBC) and sort of throws them together into one fic. Basically, this fic is how I'd write a Strawberry Shortcake TV show in a perfect world. I hope you like it!

[yakkolicious-writing]

yakkolicious-fanfiction -> yakkolicious-writing

This isn't just a fanfiction blog anymore. Got an original work I'm about to post.

[yakkolicious-writing]

The Ghost

"Envelopes" by Kevin Steinhardt is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.

Genre: Angst Fandom: Papa Louie Central Relationship: Maggie & Prudence Wordcount: 1,242 words Summary: It's been a week since Maggie made Allan cry. Prudence hasn't texted Maggie in a week. However, luckily for Maggie, Prudence wrote her a letter. What does it say? Warnings: Nothing I would consider "triggering," per se, but this might be a tough read if you've been ghosted, are having issues with a friend, or are going through a bad break-up. Rating: G. Suitable for all audiences.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55098451

This fic is a sequel to another one-shot titled "It's My Party." I'll post it here if anyone would like it, but you can read it on AO3 right now if you would prefer. You might need to read it to get the full context behind the events of this fic. I hope you enjoy this new story!

It was an ordinary afternoon in Tastyville. At the Pizzeria apartments, Maggie sat on her sofa, her arms crossed and a frown on her face. She was all alone: physically, that is. Her parents had just left to have a dinner date at the Lobsternaut in San Fresco and didn’t bring her along. Maggie was fine with this though; she didn’t ask to come, and if her parents wanted a little bit of private time without her, then so be it. She liked her privacy too.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Maggie turned her head. Her parents told her not to open the door for strangers or invite any friends over. Maggie hadn’t invited any of her friends over. The last outing she had with her friends was a party a week ago. It was a combination birthday-welcome back party, but it didn’t go too well: mostly because of her. The party was thrown for Allan, an old acquaintance of hers who moved to Oniontown back in high school. When he came back, he had changed a lot: he lost a tooth, his hair got bigger, and his fashion sense became edgier. He changed so much that Maggie refused to recognize him, even calling him a freak. Maggie had been thinking about what she did all day. Looking back, it was completely uncalled for. Just because she didn’t recognize him didn’t mean she had to be such an open jerk about it. She could’ve just stayed close to someone she trusted if she was so unsure. Instead, she ran her mouth and sent him running off in tears as Papa Louie tried to clean up her mess. That was the first hint she got that he was the real deal: he was just as sensitive as he was back in freshman year. Now, Allan was gone. In addition, her friend Prudence hadn’t even texted her since the party. She was particularly defensive of Allan at the party, completely sure it was him. She was right, but Maggie was too stubborn to listen to her when it mattered. The “freak” comment must’ve struck a nerve with Prudence too. Her other friends Rita and Penny texted her when they could, but Prudence seemed to have completely disappeared.

Maggie sighed. She was thinking too much. She hated thinking too much. Why was she thinking of this party so much? What she did was awful, but if she lingered on it, soon, her entire identity would become calling Allan a freak one time. It was over, and its impact was lasting, but she couldn’t let herself be the mean girl at the party. Maggie knew she was more than that. Right now, there was someone at the door, and she needed to find out who it was.

“Who is it?” Maggie asked.

“Just good ol’ Vincent!” a voice replied, “is that one Maggie McCoy I hear?”

“Yep!” Maggie exclaimed.

Vincent wasn’t a stranger: he was the coolest mailman in the world. He knew everyone’s name, and he knew something about everyone. Maggie had talked to him before, and her parents had too. She didn’t invite him over either, so surely opening the door for him would be fine. Maggie stood up, walked to the door, and opened it up. There, Vincent stood, a smile on his face and a pink envelope sealed with a red heart in his hand.

“Hi Vincent!” Maggie said.

“Hey there, Maggie!” Vincent replied, “I think somebody likes you.”

Vincent offered the envelope to Maggie, and she took it. She examined the front of it carefully. In the center was her name and address, but in the top left corner, she saw the name “Prudence Wagner” and her address. She gasped and grinned.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, “it’s from Prudence!”

“Ooh, you sound excited!” Vincent noted, “you like her back?”

“Oh, no.” Maggie waved her free hand with a smile. “No, no, no. I don’t like girls. Prudence doesn’t either. She likes her men tall, dark, and handsome. She just uses pink envelopes and heart seals for all of her letters.”

“Ohhhh, OK, I gotcha now. Sorry for assuming.”

“It’s alright. I’m more excited that Prudence wrote me at all! She hasn’t texted me in a week!”

“Well, I gotta get going. I hope this letter is full of the nicest words you could imagine.”

“Oh, thank you, Vincent!”

“You’re welcome! Have a great day!”

“You too!”

Vincent and Maggie waved goodbye to each other, and Vincent went off on his way. Maggie closed the door and looked at the envelope with a smile. She then began to rip into the envelope. Once it was ripped enough, Maggie opened it up and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Maggie unfolded the paper and began to read the letter.

“Dear Maggie,” it began.

“I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you after the party. It’s been a while since the incident, and if I’m being completely honest, I’m still a little upset about what happened. I know it didn’t happen to me, but I still don’t understand why you were so mean to Allan. I know he looked a little different, but you didn’t have to call him a freak in front of everyone. Allan kept in contact with me after the party, and he seems to be doing alright now, but what you did was awful. After the party, I’ve been questioning our friendship. It’s an awful thing to say, but you deserve to know the truth, and the truth is that I don’t want to be your friend anymore. If you’re going to be so quick to make an assumption like that, then I’m worried that if I get into a fight with you, then you’ll call me names or spread rumors. I’m also worried that you might do it again to another person, and I’d hate to see it happen. I don’t want anymore drama, and I don’t want to feel like I’m walking on eggshells around someone I consider my friend. I just want you to know that while I am mad at you, I don’t hate you. I just don’t want to be your friend. Sincerely, Prudence.”

Maggie’s heart sunk as she read the letter. Prudence cut her off by letter. She didn’t even want to make the effort to do it face-to-face. She said she didn’t hate her in the letter, but Maggie was sure she was lying to preserve her feelings. If she was going to write an entire letter stating that she didn’t want to be her friend anymore with flowery language, how else could Prudence feel? Prudence knew that Maggie preferred it when people were straight to the point. Maybe Prudence didn’t want to waste the paper, but if she was concerned with wasting paper, she could’ve simply cut the paper she used to write the letter and save the rest for later. Surely the only explanation was hatred.

“Great,” Maggie whispered, “just great. Prudence ghosted me.”

Maggie sighed, went to her room, got on all fours, and slipped the letter under her bed. Her parents couldn’t know: they’d only rub it in. When the letter was hidden, Maggie laid down on her bed and pulled her comforter over herself. Tears formed in her eyes before rolling down her cheeks, but she didn’t make a sound. Right now, all she wanted to do was disappear. How could she have been so stupid?

[yakkolicious-writing]

Don't Go Chucking My Heart

Genre: Crack, Romance Fandom: Super Mario Bros. Central Relationship: Luigi x Chuckya Wordcount: 1,704 words Summary: In the greatest love story since Twilight, Luigi, number two hero of the Mushroom Kingdom, finds himself smitten with a Chuckya, a minion of Bowser's with hidden depths. Can the two overcome the odds and realize that they aren't so different? Warnings: None Rating: G. Suitable for all audiences.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54872599

This fic was inspired by @silly-lil-lee. I hope you enjoy!

Luigi stood in front of the hole in the airship. He knew he couldn’t; he knew he shouldn’t. But yet, something in his heart said that he had to. He must. Luigi jumped into the air, slowly fluttering down by kicking his legs, and landed in the hole. Inside of the hole was a cannon. The cannon raised itself, Luigi inside of it, and aimed itself before firing. Luigi flew through the rainbow ring, and then, he grabbed onto a flagpole. He looked down, and there, he saw him: the hunkiest hunk to ever hunk. There, he saw Chuckya.

Luigi admired Chuckya’s round, perfectly spherical body, with an amethyst hue that shone in the sunlight. His diamond orbs were full of passion, and his ball-like antenna was as red as a cherry: and it looked good enough to eat too. Perhaps the boxing gloves he wore on his hands weren’t the most welcoming, but Luigi didn’t mind it. He knew what it was like to wear gloves all the time and be ostracized from society because of it. The Toads of the Mushroom Kingdom never treated him with kindness. To them, he was always “green Mario” or “the green man.” Even Princess Peach didn’t respect him. Maybe he didn’t put in as much work as Mario, but he still helped. A “thank you” or even a tiny slice of cake would be nice every once in a while. But alas, it wasn’t meant to be. Peach was always going to prefer Mario to him. It was a blessing in some ways, but a curse in others. Luigi may not have been interested in Peach, but he wanted someone to love, and there was something irresistibly charming about that Chuckya.

“No,” Luigi thought, clinging to the flagpole like he clung to heteronormativity, “I can’t.”

Like Romeo’s feelings for Juliet, Luigi knew his feelings for Chuckya were forbidden. After all, Chuckya worked for the enemy, that fearsome foe Bowser. Sure, Chuckya may not have been Bowser, but what would Mario think? Mario was a great older brother, but like all great older brothers, he was prone to worrying about his little brother. Bowser was always up to no good, which gave Mario reason to think that Chuckya was also always up to no good. Besides, Luigi was always being bullied in the Mushroom Kingdom by those callous Toads. What would they think if he came back with Chuckya? Mario would at least give him a chance, but the Toads would never do something so kind. Luigi could come back with someone as harmless as one of those pink female Goombas, who could easily be crushed underneath one’s feet, and the Toads would still relentlessly bully Luigi for it. Unlike a Goomba, however, Chuckya could very easily fight back. He was known for his violent tendencies. He would pick up people and throw them in a random direction of his choice: Mario knew this firsthand. It was why he told Luigi to stay away from Chuckya. But yet, Luigi was the moth to the flame that was Chuckya. Chuckya’s magnetic personality drew Luigi closer.

Eventually, Luigi decided he had to make his move. He slid down the flagpole, catching Chuckya’s attention. Chuckya scratched his head.

“What are you doing here?” Chuckya asked, even though he had no mouth.

“Oh! Um, well, I, uh,” Luigi stuttered.

“Whatever,” Chuckya said, “I’m on duty. And now, it’s chucking time.”

Chuckya slid towards Luigi and picked him up. He held him firmly yet gently in his boxing glove-covered hands. Luigi could tell that Chuckya wasn’t going to drop him. He felt so secure in his hands. Maybe one day, he could feel this same way again, and Chuckya could have less violent intentions.

Chuckya turned around and tossed Luigi through the rainbow ring as if he were a basketball. Luigi soared through the air like a green-clad missile before landing back on the airship.

“Oof!” Luigi cried; his eyes were wide like saucers, and his jaw was clenched.

Luigi stood up and dusted off his overalls before jumping back into the cannon hole. Luigi shot back through the rainbow ring and grabbed onto the flagpole once more. Chuckya looked up and gasped.

“How did you get back here?” Chuckya asked, surprised.

“It’s very easy,” Luigi said, “but since you’re throwing me like I’m a ragdoll, maybe it’sa best I don’t tell you.”

“Fair point,” Chuckya replied, crossing his arms.

Luigi slid down the flagpole once more, and Chuckya sighed.

“Look, man,” Chuckya began, “I’m on duty, and my job is to chuck people. If I chuck ‘em away, the big guy pays me the good money, and the good money pays better than any other job. If you come back again, I’ll have to tell him, and he might fire me. I’m already struggling to make rent, and if I get fired… I don’t know what’ll happen to me.”

“Oh,” Luigi said, “why can’t you just lie to him?”

“I’m not a good liar,” Chuckya explained, “and besides, the big guy doesn’t like liars.”

“Oh… that’s so sad…”

Chuckya’s eyes grew softer, but he couldn’t let himself go soft. The only thing the big guy hated more than liars was softies. He rapidly shook his head and put on a fake glare.

“I don’t need your pity!” he shouted.

“Oh, I’mma sorry,” Luigi replied, cowering, “but… do you want my pity?”

“What?” Chuckya asked, raising an eyelid.

“Do you want my pity, Chuckya?”

Chuckya sighed and crossed his arms. A single, shiny teardrop rolled down his face.

“Well, I didn’t know anyone would ever feel bad for me,” he explained, “it’s just… I hate being a minion. Sure, I’m good at chucking things. I was great at the shot put back in high school, but chucking things isn’t all that I want to do with my life. I wanna see the world, go backpacking, meet a nice person and settle down when I feel I’ve done enough, and then, I could open a gym or something.”

“Oh, you have-a so many dreams,” Luigi said.

“Oh, I got tons of dreams,” Chuckya replied, “it’s just that I was born as the wrong species in the wrong kingdom. Maybe I’d be traveling right now if I was a Toad born in the Mushroom Kingdom. Instead, I was born a Chuckya in the Bowser Kingdom…”

It was at this moment that Luigi knew what he had to do. He ran up to Chuckya and embraced him tightly. Chuckya gasped.

“What are you doing?” Chuckya asked.

“I’m giving you a hug,” Luigi explained.

Chuckya didn’t know how to feel about this new form of touch. Chuckya lived in Bowser’s Kingdom, where hugging was forbidden; the turtle king didn’t want to promote kindness in his army of coldblooded killers. Yet this hug, as Luigi called it, felt so nice. Chuckya didn’t want it to end, but if Bowser found out that he had hugged someone he was supposed to chuck, he could lose his livelihood. Chuckya groaned, causing Luigi to let go of him.

“Oh, I’mma sorry,” Luigi said.

“No, it’s alright,” Chuckya replied, “I’m sorry. I… actually really appreciated the hug. It’s just… oh, what’s the big guy gonna think? He hates hugs!”

“Oh, well, that shell of his definitely would make hugging hard,” Luigi suggested with a giggle.

“No, no, it’s not even that. He doesn’t like it when his employees get… affectionate. We have to be able to stop Mario at a moment’s notice, we don’t have time to be nice!”

“Oh no. I never realized how badly you guys had it.”

“I just want to do more with my life! There has to be more to life than chucking for minimum wage!”

“Do you want to run away with me, Chuckya?”

“What?”

“I want more in life too, Chuckya.”

“Really? You live in the Mushroom Kingdom! It has to be great over there, especially since you’re one of its heroes!”

“Not to the Toads I’m not. They just see me as Mario’s annoying little brother. They call me ‘green Mario’ and get upset whenever they see me. The princess doesn’t treat me much better. I’m not entitled to love just because I help save her, but I don’t even get a ‘thank you’ most of the time. I never get a slice of cake. I don’t know what her cakes taste like. Mario is my only friend, but sometimes he’s so busy he doesn’t even have time to say ‘hi’ to me.”

“Aw, that is sad… maybe the Mushroom Kingdom isn’t all it’s cracked up to be either.”

“Yeah. We should find somewhere else to be. Somewhere where we don’t have to worry about this silly game that Mario and Bowser play. Somewhere where we can just… be. Somewhere where I don’t have to be the sidekick, and somewhere where you don’t have to be the guy who chucks people.”

“You know what? Let’s do it. If the big guy sends people to find me, I’m gonna tell ‘em to shove a stick up his-”

Before Chuckya could finish his unclean thoughts, Luigi put a finger over his mouth.

“Don’t,” he said softly, “this story’s-a rated G.”

“Oh,” Chuckya replied, “good point.”

Luigi looked down from the cobblestone platform.

“I might need a little help getting down,” Luigi explained.

“I can carry you,” Chuckya offered.

“Oh, I’da like that,” Luigi said.

With that, Chuckya picked up Luigi, as if he were going to chuck him. However, he didn’t throw him. Instead, he slid to the edge of the cobblestone platform and jumped off. Holding Luigi tightly, though not tightly enough to crush him, the two flew through the air, landing on green grass. Chuckya set Luigi down, took off his cap, and ruffled his hair gently, making the green-clad plumber laugh. Chuckya set Luigi’s cap back on his head and offered him his hand. Luigi took it, and together, they ran as far away from the Mushroom Kingdom as they could. Chuckya finally had someone who understood what it was like to want more in life, and Luigi finally had Chuckya’s heart, and he knew now that he wouldn’t go chucking it.

APRIL FOOLS!

You have been PRANKED! BAMBOOZLED, even! I don't actually ship Luigi with Chuckya, I'm just a normal Luaisy shipper. Either way, I hope you enjoyed this!

[yakkolicious-writing]

The Apple of My Eye

Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff Fandom: Animaniacs Central Relationship: Yakko Warner x Stevie Skunkton (male OC) Wordcount: 1,248 words Summary: Yakko is invited on an apple picking trip with his boyfriend Stevie's family. However, he's unusually quiet at first, and it makes Stevie nervous. Can Stevie figure out what's going on with Yakko? Warnings: None Rating: G. Suitable for all audiences.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54730762

This fic is a request from my friend @silly-lil-lee! This work was also inspired by a prompt from user @voidfxndoms, specifically Prompt #37 of their fluff prompts: "I will stop loving you when apples start growing on mango trees." I kind of flipped the order of that statement for this, but whatever. I hope you enjoy!

Yakko stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind him. He had been invited by the family of his boyfriend, Stevie, on their annual autumn apple-picking trip. He put his hands in the pockets of the puffy red jacket he was wearing, looked down at the grass, and sighed. It was a beautiful day outside. The sky was a light shade of blue, and white fluffy clouds blocked out the sun. Small trees with many leaves and bright red apples on them were everywhere. Everything was so nice, but yet, he was sad, and he didn’t know why. Yakko simply looked at the ground with a frown on his face, until suddenly, he felt something nudge his arm.

“Huh?” he asked.

Yakko looked up and turned his head. There, he saw Stevie, holding two large baskets in his hands. He offered one of the baskets to Yakko.

“You comin’?” Stevie said.

Yakko took the basket that Stevie offered him, and Stevie began to walk off. Yakko slowly followed him. The two walked down a grass path, surrounded by apple trees. Stevie looked straight ahead of him, but Yakko only looked at the grass as he walked. He didn’t say a word to Stevie. Stevie didn’t like how quiet Yakko was being. Normally, Yakko was super chatty and always had something to talk about, but not hearing him was eerie. It was like Stevie wasn’t with Yakko, but with a husk of him. Stevie couldn’t take the silence.

“Hey,” Stevie began, “Yakko?”

Yakko lifted his head up and looked at Stevie, his eyes like those of a scolded puppy’s.

“I’m not mad at you,” Stevie explained, “I’m just worried.”

“Oh, uh, you’re worried?” Yakko asked, “what are you worried about?”

“Yakko, you’ve been quiet,” Stevie answered, “like, really quiet. Normally you’re not this quiet. I haven’t heard you say a word since you got to our house! Is… is everything alright back at the tower? Anything happen with Wakko and Dot?”

“No, Wakko and Dot are fine.”

“Alright, that’s good. If it’s not Wakko or Dot, then… then what’s wrong?”

Yakko sighed. He squeezed his arm with his free hand and looked away from Stevie. Stevie softly smiled at him and put his hand on his shoulder.

“Well,” Yakko began, “I had a bad dream last night. I don’t wanna call it a nightmare. It felt too real to be a nightmare.”

“That’s alright,” Stevie said, “what happened in it?”

“It started out normal,” Yakko explained, “but it went downhill fast. I was on the Warner lot, I was alone for some reason, and it was just… empty. Nobody was there. I was expecting the dream to just be kinda weird at first, I have a lot of weird dreams, but then, I saw you. I got super excited, I ran up to you, and then… I told you I was excited to see you. I don’t remember what I said to you exactly, but I must’ve said something wrong or offensive or both, because then I tried to take your hand and you pulled it away from me.”

“Whoa. I pulled my hand away from you over something you said?”

“Yeah.”

Yakko nodded, and tears appeared in his eyes.

“So, I obviously didn’t grab it, and you crossed your arms and gave me this… this really mean look. Then, y-you told me that you couldn’t understand why I was the way I was, and that I was too clingy a-and emotional and weird… and then you told me you weren’t in love with me anymore and that you wanted to break up. I asked why, and then you just… turned around and walked away from me! I ran after you, begged you to come back, asked if there was something I could do, and then you turned around and screamed at me to go back to the water tower, a-and… and stay there.”

Yakko sniffled as the tears rolled down his face before suddenly burying his head in Stevie’s zipped-up jacket. Stevie tightly wrapped his arms around Yakko and pat his back gently as his jacket was soaked in Yakko’s tears.

“Hey,” Stevie said softly, “it’s alright, Yakko. It’s OK. It’s gonna be OK…”

“I love you,” Yakko cried, his voice muffled by Stevie’s wet jacket.

“I love you too,” Stevie replied, “and I hope you know that.”

Yakko stood up straight, his eyes still watery and his face slightly red, and sniffled. He looked up at Stevie.

“Yakko, you’re the greatest partner I’ve ever had,” Stevie began, “and I wouldn’t trade you for the world. If anything, I’m scared of you leaving me.”

“Wait, what?” Yakko asked, “you’re scared of me leaving you? Why?”

“Well,” Stevie explained, “Yakko, do you realize just how much of a catch you are?”

“A catch? Never thought of myself as a catch. Normally I’m the one who, uh, goes fishing.”

Yakko nervously giggled, but Stevie wheezed and leaned over, holding his belly as he laughed. Yakko waited for him to stop laughing. When Stevie stopped, he stood up straight and sighed.

“See?” Stevie began, “you’re hilarious, even when you don’t think you are!”

“Aw, gee,” Yakko said, “I wasn’t even thinking about that one.”

“Shows you’ve got a gift,” Stevie responded, “anyways, not only are you funny, but you’re super smart, you got a killer singing voice, and then you’re hot on top of that! Some of my classmates would kill to have a partner like that!”

“Aww, thanks Stevie!” Yakko giggled.

“Hey, no need to thank me if it’s true. Anyways, I’ve lost a ton of friends over the years because I said the wrong thing, and let me tell you, it sucks, so I’m gonna tell you right now that I will never leave you if you say something I don’t like.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Then, Stevie leaned in and planted a kiss on Yakko’s forehead. Yakko remained still, and he began to blush.

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you, Yakko,” Stevie explained.

Stevie looked at one of the apple trees. He saw a low-hanging, slightly dark red apple and picked it from the tree, showing it to Yakko.

“Tell you what,” Stevie began, “I’ll stop loving you when mangoes start growing on apple trees. Now, tell me, is this a mango?”

Yakko looked at the apple and laughed.

“Nah,” he said, “unless Honeycrisp apples count as mangoes now.”

“Told ya you were smart,” Stevie replied, “now, this might sound a little cheesy, but Yakko, you really are the apple of my eye.”

Yakko laughed and slapped his knee.

“A little cheesy?” Yakko asked, “Stevie, that was cheesier than the entire state of Wisconsin!”

Yakko and Stevie laughed so hard that they cried.

“Oh my God,” Stevie said, desperately trying to catch his breath, “Yakko, you’re on a roll today!”

“Guess I am!” Yakko replied, “now, why don’t we pick some apples, see how many we can sneak before your parents take them all for cider?”

“I like that idea.” Stevie smirked at Yakko.

Yakko and Stevie turned to the tree that Stevie picked the example apple from earlier and began to pick more apples from it, smiles on their faces. Yakko’s bad dream may have scared him, but now, he knew that even though the Stevie in his dreams abandoned him, the real Stevie would never do such a thing, and the real Stevie was what mattered.