Disney Just Loves Making You Picture F*cking Its Characters
If you've never found yourself wondering what it would be like to fuck a Disney character, you can go ahead and close this article. Now that all the liars are gone, let's get down to business: Why are we like this? And how do we make it stop?
As for the first part, I don't think this is actually our fault. Because I just rewatched a bunch of Disney movies, and they're really trying to put sexy thoughts in our heads at times when no one should have those thoughts there. They want us to be thinking about fuck-times while the talking gecko convinces the princess that love is more important than duty. Either that or I'm just a deranged pervert.
(And as for the second part: There is no way to make it stop. This is us until we die.)
Nala's "Fuck Me, Simba" Face In The Lion King
Yeah. We're really gonna hit the ground running with this one.
It's not controversial or even insightful to point out that this scene is weirdly sexual, precisely because most of you started thinking of this exact clip the moment you read the title of this section. It's so glaringly obvious that Nala wants Simba to rail her in this moment that this precise frame is when 87 percent of children decide to ask their parents where babies come from (according to a study I just made up). The point is, I'm not weird for thinking about fucking when she makes this face.
I can't stress enough how not-creepy I am for calling this the "Fuck me, Simba" face.
So Disney forced us all to think about not only lion sex, but incest lion sex. There are only two males in Simba's pride, and Mufasa and Scar are brothers. So best-case scenario, Simba and Nala are about to have cousin sex. To an Elton John song.
"Bennie! (Bennie!) Bennie! (Bennie!)"
When Fifi Feather-Dusts Lumiere's Face
Lumiere gets a lot of tail. The man's a real Casanova. A bona fide, dyed-in-the-wool fucksman. And I'm not just talking prolific -- he has the confidence of a man who knows how to get it done. Five minutes after being turned into a candelabra, Lumiere dashed into a corner to see if his wax dick still worked. And apparently, it did.
And presumably, it shoots fire.
Plus, he's French, so Disney really, really wanted us to imagine him having sex. Again, I'm not the weird one for pointing this out.
His main squeeze is the Feather Duster, whom the Disney Wiki has informed me is named "Fifi." Then there's that YouTube video that calls her "Babette," so I'm just going to call her "Feather Duster" until the world starts making some goddamn sense. At the end of the movie, when they turn back into humans, we know that they continue their relationship, because this happens:
You're reading Cracked, so you're a smart cat. I don't need to explain anthropomorphization or sex to you. When Feather Duster was a feather duster, the feathers were her skirt and the handle was her body, so when she and Lumiere got busy, that was where his presumably candle-shaped penis went. The same part of the duster that she just affectionately rubbed all over his face.
So ... is that still arousing to Lumiere, because it brings up a straight decade of memories of boning household objects? Also, did Disney just get away with showing us on-screen cunnilingus? And finally, what is up with Disney characters blatantly checking out women's asses? It happens in Cinderella, too.
In conclusion, the upcoming live-action Beauty And The Beast changes this character's name to "Plumette," because this entire franchise exists just to frustrate me.
Most Of Cars
Cars should not have ever been made. Just the premise -- that sentient cars live in a world virtually identical to our own -- raises more questions than the 90-minute runtime could ever hope to answer. How did they build these buildings without hands? Where are they getting their gasoline? Furthermore, in general, what? This isn't like Toy Story, which posits a secret world living inside our own. This is just madness. Sheer raving lunacy. And that's before we even get to the part where they force me to imagine car sex.
First there's the scene in which two of Lightning McQueen's "biggest fans" pop their headlights up for him to admire, and he reacts as if they were breasts. They "flash" him, if the pun wasn't immediately clear.
Okay, so headlights are boobs? Lightning acts like this is a taboo moment, but surely those things are everywhere once the sun goes down. Unless, in the Cars universe, modesty requires everyone to drive at night in pitch darkness?
Then there's Sally. Her headlights don't pop up, they're always out. (Because of safety regulations? Again, they share a lot of similarities with our universe.) So is she always topless? What are gender politics even like in a universe in which some models are born (are cars born?!?) with inherently more modesty than others?
Most importantly, what the hell is going on in this scene with Sally's tramp stamp?
I use the term "tramp stamp" because in the Cars universe, it clearly has those same misogynist connotations, because she reacts with shame and noticing it gives Lightning the upper hand over her for the rest of the scene. Lower-back tattoos are erotic on human women because the lower back is a traditionally intimate body part. So why is that part of a car also intimate? It's not like she can wear a longer shirt to cover it, so why is this tattoo location particularly scandalous? Is that anywhere near where Sally's car-vagina is? I mean, I gotta assume the exhaust is the butthole, so where are the genitals? The catalytic converter? The muffler? How do you determine the sex of a car, anyway? Why is this movie forcing me to go down this road?
Ugh. "Road." I hate myself for that.
The Frogs In The Princess And The Frog
Lumiere and Fifi were weird, but at least feathers and hot candle wax are two things traditionally associated with sex. On the other hand, Tiana and Prince Naveen fall in love while they're frogs. But then spend the rest of their lives together as human.
As far as I know, they never bone as frogs, but that's still where the sexual attraction developed. Which means that while they were frogs, their brain chemistry changed in such a way as to make other frogs sexually attractive. Is that something you can really base a relationship on? That seems like it's just begging for trouble. Ever move to a new town or even a new apartment with a significant other? Now imagine moving to a new species with an entirely different kind of sexual intercourse. Does the old frog attraction linger? Does Naveen fondly remember the first time he saw her sexy slick green body reflecting the moonlight? Does he remember his breath catching in his skin because that's how frogs breathe?
And since they didn't get a chance to fuck as frogs, do they feel cheated that they were never able to act on their original attraction? If they did frog-fuck, is it a really hot memory, or did it suddenly become all weird and gross when their brain chemistry changed back to human, like the way the memory of a drunk hookup can become upsetting in the morning, except a thousand times worse because instead of being drunk they were frogs? Have they ever thought about going back to that place, like, with fantasy or costumes?
Luckily for us, scientists have put together a handy guide to The Seven Known Frog Sex Positions, complete with illustrated examples that, helpfully, already kinda look like Tiana and Naveen.
This one's called "The Head Straddle."
The Hunchback Of Notre Dame Is All About Lust And Everyone Is Fine With This?
The portrayal of love and lust in The Hunchback Of Notre Dame is deeply unsettling, and I'm saying that as someone who just wrote 1,500 words on hypothetical cartoon fucking. Esmeralda is the sexiest Disney character ever, and I'm not saying that out of personal preference, mostly because I'm intimidated by "radioactive green eyes."
She's about to turn into the Hulk.
No, this is based on sheer numbers. Excluding Esmeralda herself, there are three named human characters in this movie (Quasimodo, Frollo, and Phoebus), and they all want to sleep with her. Obsessively so. Phoebus compromises his job by lying to his boss on his first day to protect her, Quasimodo's Gargoyle Friends* sing a song to cheer him up about how this hot lady totally wants to sleep with him (even though she doesn't), and Frollo hallucinates a fiery version of her dancing in the fireplace that is so erotic that the MPAA asked Disney to re-animate it with more clothes.
They ... refused?
Esmeralda, of course, ends up with Phoebus -- the most blond and virile man in the movie -- because that's it. There's no reason. They just do. Her entire existence is based around sex. Esmeralda is voiced by Demi Moore, and the same year Hunchback came out, she also starred in a movie called Striptease, which is less about her sexuality than this animated Disney movie for the simple reason that it doesn't feature a giant floating demon vagina.
To be fair, it doesn't have a terrible message for young boys. The men in the film are either destroyed by their unrequited lust (Frollo), make peace with it (Quasimodo), or just get to have sex with Demi Moore because they talk like Kevin Kline (Phoebus). The message for young girls isn't as great, since it's basically "The only character trait you have of any interest is your sex appeal. But that's fine, since how many little girls are watching Disney movies anyway? Here's that demon vagina I mentioned:
You see it too, right? You see it too?
Okay. Maybe I'm a bit of a deranged pervert.
*If you buy into the theory that the gargoyles are all part of Quasimodo's imagination, this becomes the saddest Disney song ever.
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