#Greasy weasel

[shy-nightmare]

AUGH, my morning was stressful 😫 But I found a cure! 😁

Baby Toon Patrol Kits 👶🦦👶

Fun fact! Weasels are the size of a quarter while they're babies 😊

Imagine 5 baby weasel bois cuddling you because they know you're stressed 🥺

@weaselnerd, @lastofautumn, @spookiifi, @basiabd, @just-kit-ink, @los-angeles-toon-patrol, @imaginarytoon1, @marinerainbow, @slashingdisneypasta A.K.A. @wicked1will0sparkles, and anyone else who had a rough morning, here is the cure. @trashogram, I'm tagging you too because I remember a weasel GIF post you shared and that gave me inspiration. Thank you! 😁🙏

[weaselnerd]

Toon patrol doodles!

Since I’m learning more art styles, I thought to try and use as many different tools for drawing them! All have different tools I used for line art and coloring! I wanted to make them feel as different from each other as possible and tried to find brushes that suited them more!

[basiabd]

I made these for fun

[trashogram]

Toon Patrol/Fem!Reader

Rated G for gun violence.

————————

You stood at the very back of the studio, trying not to let restlessness get the better of you. You contented yourself by looking at the set that had been vacated of its cast before your return — a beautiful matte painting of an open field with a frame of oak trees. 

     It was so eye-catching and lovely contrasted with the clutter of camera equipment and occasional crewmembers. A veritable oasis in the middle of a desert. 

You sighed wistfully. 

     Your mentor Cliff had gone long ago, off to help pull together another reel of film post-edit. It was tempting to pout over the injustice of not being invited, since your whole purpose was to observe and learn that very thing. Instead you’d been left to the wolves as a glorified PA, running around town to get whatever was needed by this person or that — all of them higher on the totem pole than yourself. So, you had no chance of refusing, not that you hadn’t tried. 

     You’d been working here for almost two weeks and people still treated you like you were invisible, or a nuisance. First day on the job and your most important lesson was: if you’re not talent or the director, you’re not worth a second glance. 

     With a scrunch of your nose in distaste, you waved away the thought. You’d already browbeaten yourself enough for being so meek. There was nothing for it now but to do better next time.  

-*-

    Cliff pushed a box of random props into your arms. “Here girl. Take these out to the lot and throw ‘em away.” 

You stared down your nose at the contents, spying at least two oversized rolling pins, a ‘toon bomb with a singed fuse, a slide whistle, a white flag and a dozen or so bent cartoon nails. 

“Wh—?” 

“They’re defective! No need for ‘em anymore.” Your mentor continued. “When you come back I’ll bring you to the RCA system, watch ‘em match up the audio.” 

“Oh! Really?!” You brightened. “That’s - I - Really, Cliff?! Will I really get to — ?” 

Cliff cut you off, perpetually watering eyes narrowed as he frowned. 

“Yeah, yeah, now go! Don’t dawdle! We don’t need anymore junk clutterin’ this place up.” Cliff ‘hmphed’ around his stogie. “Got enough clowns runnin’ rampant as it is.” 

Your lips pressed together firmly as you tried to reel in the tempest of emotions in your chest. As exciting as the reward sounded, you failed to see how taking out the trash was part of your job description. 

“Yes, sir.” You muttered finally. 

With another world-weary sigh, you trudged off and headed toward the back door that led outside.

-*- 

The walk over to the dumpsters was particularly painful with not only the distance to account for, but the many stairs as well. You could feel blisters forming on your heels and where pressure pinched at your toes. 

    One would hope that breaking in sensible pumps wouldn’t take long, but then you were constantly on your feet these days. There was little to no time for sitting and healing as you were jerked around from one end of the set to the next at everyone’s beck and call. 

    A siren was going off in the distance, intermingling with the sound of the trolley ding’ing at its next stop. You could faintly hear the clacking of dress shoes and a shout from someone unknown just beyond the gate that separated the studio and the outside world of L.A. 

    The air turned from pleasantly fresh to sour, dragging you back to the task at hand. The dumpsters sat waiting. 

You groaned at the realization that you had to set your box of miscellaneous down to open the dumpster lid. It was the little things in life that piled up and blocked you from a simple, joyous life. 

     Two women costumed to look like Little Bo Peep rounded the corner as you maneuvered the lid open. They didn’t appear to see you, let alone lend a hand as they hurried off. And the same could be said of a man swerving past you, his dress shirt half-soaked in sweat. 

Typical. 

“Did this… box get… heavier?” You groused, lugging it up from the pavement. 

You had to use the dumpster to wedge the box between it and yourself, hoisting it toward the lip. It was merely a coincidence that you decided to take a last look inside before throwing it away. 

The ‘toon frog inside croaked at you. 

     Your scream set him off like a springtrap, and you were knocked back onto the heated road with a hiss. It hurt — your elbow smacked into the ground and the trapped heat from the sun stung your legs through the nylon barrier as you landed on your behind. 

Teeth clenched, you tried to distract yourself from the pain. Above you the frog stood, stretched out to his full height — which was sizable given how he’s squished himself into a standard cardboard box. His attire stood out like something a bandmate would march in during a parade procession. 

The frog trembled from head-to-toe, eyes darting all around. 

“I’m so sorry! So sorry! So sorry! I didn’t mean to knock you over, Miss! I was just looking for somewhere to-to-to-to—!” 

     You got back onto your feet awkwardly, wincing as you brushed dust and dirt from your backside. “To scare me?” 

“—To hide!” He shrieked, fumbling over his own webbed feet. 

You frowned, mouth opening just as the distant siren drowned everything else out. The gate into the studio burst open simultaneously, sending your heart plummeting as a patrol vehicle raced forward. 

     The frog screamed with you this time as he leapt into the air and dove into your arms. His long arms wrapped ‘round your neck and squeezed.

Vision starting to swim, hearing beginning to ring, you could do nothing but stumble back with arms full of terrified amphibian as the car screeched to a halt. 

“Awlright Gills!” A nasal voice called out. “End ‘a the line!” 

The driver’s side door of the van opened, and out popped a ‘toon weasel bedecked in a pink suit jacket and matching fedora. 

    And as if on cue, more weasels filed out from all sides of the car, hurrying to follow the first one’s lead. 

“Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! Please!” The frog stuttered in your ear. “I didn’t hear anything! I didn’t see anything! Please believe me!” 

    It did not block out the sound of guns being cocked. You went ramrod straight at the sound, and stared like a deer in headlights as the group of weasels crowded in. 

    You whimpered, overwhelmed and afraid at the sudden turn of events. The guns pointed at you looked real. 

“Look-it dis, boys.” The weasel in pink snarked. “Froggy says he ain’t guilty, but he’s hidin’ behind a dame! Sure looks like a ‘red-bellied’ snitch ta me!”

    The weasel’s fellow ‘toons all laughed, and you gagged as the frog’s arms constricted around you again. The lack of oxygen was making you dizzy, preventing you from staying still through the stand-off. 

“She don’t look so good, eh boss?” Another weasel asked, eyes trained on you moreso than the frog. 

You began to sway back and forth, a high heel catching in a divot. You pitched forward unexpectedly. 

“No! No! No!” The frog wailed. 

“Uh-oh!” A high-pitched voice exclaimed, followed by a stream of cackles. The spots in your vision and the ringing in your ears prevented you from caring, however. 

Even the sound of a gunshot, and the subsequent cry of the frog as he finally let go of your neck and jumped off of you, took its time catching up to your sluggish thoughts. 

     You gasped, air filling your lungs in short bursts until you coughed. Above and around you, the sounds of a cartoon scuffle filled the lot as the frog attempted another escape.

    He had sprung from you after being startled by the gunshot before you could hit the ground and hit the dumpster, feet landing on a rolling pin and tripping him up. It left him flailing for just long enough to get ambushed by the Toon Patrol, who rushed him.  

The frog bounded over Smartass’s head, ripping the fedora off his head, and leaving the leader to clutch at nothing but air, to slam it over Stupid’s eyes. Psycho took the opportunity to grip the perp’s feet and pull him down harder than gravity could as Wheezy snatched up the cartoon bat that had been dropped in the fray and hit the frog right between his bulbous eyes. 

It sent the poor thing flying back into the dust, legs sticking up in the air as he moaned, stars circling his head. 

-*-

A small crowd of humans and ‘toons alike had gathered yards away from you, but you paid it no mind as the frog was hauled away by the seat of his pants. The amphibian remained unconscious as he was swung back and forth rather merrily by two of the weasels before being thrown into the back of their car. 

The sound of him hitting the interior made you flinch, but you also instinctively grabbed for your neck, and shuddered at the phantom feeling of being choked. 

     You inhaled slowly, willing yourself to calm down. Thankfully, a distraction emerged when you saw the Toon Patrol (per what it said on the side of the cab) leader dithering near you still. His beady eyes roved around the area, combing it for something — something —

“Thank you...” You said when he was within earshot. 

    His ears perked up before that glare was pointed in your direction. You swallowed down your apprehension. 

“… For, uh, for helping me from being strangled.” You continued, gently. 

It felt true enough, even if you felt a little bad about how the situation was handled. From what you could tell, neither you nor the frog had been shot. It must’ve been a tactic meant to scare only. 

You hoped so at least. 

“Wasn’ nothing, doll.” He snapped, claws still feeling for his hat as if it would magically appear. 

You frowned, pushing down the feeling of reproach at his gruff tone. It would seem that even ‘toon law enforcement would rather wave you off than speak to you. 

     Eyes trailing down, you spotted the fedora a few feet away and you quickly scooped it up, intent on remedying your hurt feelings with people-pleasing.

“Well, thank you anyway.” You said sincerely before you bent down and planted a kiss right between the weasel’s little ears. 

     It was funny. You noticed before you could place the hat back on the weasel’s head how his eyes bulged in their sockets. For a split second the ‘toon looked well and truly gobsmacked by your little token of gratitude. 

      The rest of his posse stilled their endless shuffling, fidgeting and slinking about to mirror the bewilderment of their boss. 

     Their leader eventually shook himself free of the shock to whirl about. The permanent scowl on his face deepened as he glared at you. His hat was snatched out of your hands, with the weasel hissing between yellow incisors. 

“Why you—!” 

“Aye!” Your head snapped up, and you blinked rapidly at the weasel in green. “Whattabout me?!”

His narrowed eyes had blown out wide, zeroed in on you while his jaw hung open. The weasel hurriedly clamped it shut when he caught your attention, trying and failing to contain the mix of awe, indignation and desperation on his face. You noticed, idly, how he was the most well-dressed out of his counterparts as he stalked toward you. 

     You were taken aback when he elbowed the weasel next to you out of the way and grabbed your hand before you could back off. 

     The green-clad ‘toon took his hat in his other hand, revealing a shock of slicked-back black hair. It distracted you from his hungry gaze roaming up and down your form. 

“It was an honor to be your hero, bella dama.” His voice was as oily as his hair. “I would happily accept your kiss as ‘thank you’.”

“Oh.” You responded dumbly. “Um, I-I suppose…” 

A squeak left you as the ‘toon kissed your hand, his grip tightening without warning so that he could pull you closer. Suddenly, he was kissing his way up your arm, heedless to your bewilderment at his wildly inappropriate actions. 

     The kisses grew more and more amorous as he continued, openly slavering over you as if your bare skin was an addictive substance he couldn’t get enough of. And every single one was punctuated with a loud ‘MUAH’.

     Blood rushed to your ears as you saw the weasel’s tongue slide across your forearm— 

“Quit messin’ around!” Your sleazy counterpart was ripped away from you with a yelp. 

His entire body snapped back like a rubber band, neck stretching comically as he tried to continue kissing you until the very last second. 

“We got no time for these ‘shenagrains’! We still gotta frog to flay!” The leader spat, smacking Green over the head for good measure. 

   A chorus of laughter followed the strike as the other three weasels pointed and laughed at their cohorts’ melodramatic abuse. 

      The touchy one bared his yellow teeth, spouting what you could only imagine were curses, though they were yelled in what you believed was Spanish. He dove for his leader, and immediately they began to tussle in the dusty roadway. 

You stood up again, grimacing at the scene and wondering if you should intervene or not. Until you jumped out of your skin as the hem of your dress was tugged. 

“Heeheeheeheh…” Swirling eyes met your own, so shiny that they reflected your stunned expression back at you. 

      “You want a kiss?” You asked.  

The only response was more high-pitched giggling from the scrawny thing. You felt nervousness creep up your spine as you took in the overlong sleeves of what you just now realized was a straightjacket wrapped around this one. And there was a straight razor clenched between his teeth, glinting in the early noon sun. 

      Panic crawled up your throat, but you forced yourself to take a big, albeit silent, breath. Toons were made to entertain, not cause harm. At least, not to humans. 

You softened up with a smile, brushing back the weasel’s wildly unkempt hair and pressing your lips to his hairline. 

     “Heehee…” The giggling went on under his breath.

A wet nose pressed against the column of your throat briefly, sniffing over your skin. Hot puffs of air blew back your hair before you heard him inhale deeply. 

     You pulled back to see the loony ‘toon rocking from side to side, his sleeves crossed over his lanky body in a self-hug. Those eyes swirled twice as fast, a manic grin stretching over his long face.

“I li~ike that.” He sing-songed between giggles. “Kissies feel go~od! Eheeheeheehee!”

The laughing, as freaky as it was, was infectious. Laughter bubbled out of you as well, shaking your shoulders and forcing you to press your lips together. 

     You couldn’t stifle it so much when the largest weasel of the whole gang bumped into your side. How he managed to sneak up on you with all his bulk was a mystery. 

“Duhh we did good?” He asked you. 

“Very good!” You laughed, your frame vibrating with the forcefulness of it. “Thank you very much!”

This weasel’s eyes didn’t swirl, but they shapeshifted into hearts once you kissed his furry cheek. You nearly snorted over how he sank into a bashful pose, and at the way the propeller on his hat spun without even a light breeze to push it. 

    “D’awww…” His tongue hung out like a lazy dog’s as he looked up at you through would-be fluttering lashes. “Boss! Did you see that? Da lady gave me a kiss!” 

“Ese idiota got a kiss!” You heard from behind. “You all got a kiss but me! ¡Sois ratas! ¡Estás todos contra mí!” 

Well now, not all of them had. You couldn’t stop laughing, but you managed to find the only other patroller you had not made any contact with. 

     The one that was shades more blue than his fellow ‘toons hung back. He made no move to come toward you; just stood in the haze of his own smoke cloud. 

     You didn’t want to push. Instead, still on that jittery buzz of good humor, you blew him a kiss to compromise. You imagined that if you were a ‘toon yourself, your kiss would’ve literally flown right to him. 

   Blue’s pinkened eyes seemed to widen, reminiscent of his boss’s reaction, before narrowing again to scrutinize you. The many cigarettes in his maw billowed smoke on double time, reminding you of the phrase ‘smoke coming outta your ears’. 

    Perhaps it was just their natural theatrics — admittedly, you’d not been working amongst ‘toons for very long, let alone visited Toontown as you planned to do… at some point. But you had to wonder if these poor creatures had ever been shown affection in their lives. 

Wiping a tear from your eye, you tried to curb your giggles and turn toward that overly — affectionate — weasel. You knew full well that it was a terrible idea but his whining made you feel bad, and you intended to humor him (as long as his boss held him back from the unwanted smooching). 

Intention cut short when you jolted in place at the sight of a man in all black standing behind you. 

“Oh!” You gasped. 

     You felt a chill the longer you stared at him. An imposing man in all black, staring at you from behind opaque spectacles beneath the sharp brim of his own hat. He stood unnaturally still, like a stone pillar, and you got the distinct impression that he’d meant to frighten you. 

Then he smiled, baring uncannily perfect white teeth in your direction. 

[slashingdisneypasta]

Imagine-

Pervy MultiVillains trying to initiate something with you, but you're acting all squirrelly and trying to brush him off, which is very out of the ordinary and confusing them... because, and you dont want to admit this but,... you kinda, sorta, maybe already took care of yourself 😅

Beetlejuice kinda jokes about it at first, like "What?? You already do it or something baby???", a goofy befuddled look on his face- and then... slowly... his face grows stormy and his voice goes demonic when you just kinda laugh, nervously, in responce. "Wait wait wait- You did!? " He finally found someone with a similarly high sex drive as he does and you did this to him?? He finds this to be fucken heinous betrayal. If you're gonna fuck yourself at least let him watch! So no. Oh, no. He's not going to let this go right away. This pisses him off. And tonight you're going to learn a lesson from him you will never forget.

Chucky didn't even know that was something you did at all- masturbate?? You?? You're way too cute for that, no way. But when you jump at his touch, he's got to consider it. He's like, "huh... okay then... hm... be right back." He promptly leaves you and goes in search. Your room gets picked through, your internet history is checked, every miscellaneous bottle in your bathroom gets read- until he finds proof (A toy, porn, racy tumblr blogs, lube or toy cleaner, whatever).

"Aha!" He'll exclaim, and you will never hear the end of it after that 😅 What? He's just very curious about this part of your life he had no damn idea about~~

When you continuously attempt to distract Freddy, he grows increasingly suspicious of you- until you're just chatting away and he's not trying to touch you anymore but he's not listening either, he's thinking... and it's never a good thing when he thinks. After a few minutes of this he suddenly speaks ("Do you have a toy??" Cuz like, theres gotta be a reason you are acting so damn sensitive, and he knows you. He knows how you act when you've had a time~), and it takes you by surprise so it takes you a moment to register what he's said and then- when you do- you open your mouth to object... notice the very serious, I will know if you lie bitch, kinda look on his face...

"No!??" You exclaim, though the fact that you're running away tells him everything he needs to know.

Greasy doesn't consider it on his own- he's used to being turned down so he just sorta goes off huffing. Like, fine. Maybe next time you need him he'll tell you he's not in the mood, eh? It's not until he's complaining to Wheezy, who's not really paying any attention and says something off-hand like maybe y/n delt with it themself tonight, that Greasy has the 💡💡💡 moment ("Wait... what? WHAT!? You think... they... oh no. Absolutely not- "). He's off in a millisecond, leaving Wheezy thankfully alone again, and throwing your door open again like

'Y/N!! WHERE IS IT HERMOSA!?'

'Jesus christ Greasy what the hell!??'

(And I could not for the life of me think of anything for Hades, my brain just went nooooooooooooooo sh sh sh nope nonononono not today ma'am- so I will be back here when my Hades brain boots back up)

[seashellisinmyheart]

Mah bois.

[spookiifi]

Discord shenanigans

[marinerainbow]

Hi again, Rainbows 🌈! I just wanted to thank you again so much for the 💌s. They mean so much to me, you have no idea 😭😭😭😭! Also, I just wanted to let you know that I plan on posting Chapter 2 on Friday the 27th that way it's there for you and Slashing when you guys are ready.

Thirdly, I succeeded on making her laugh with this hilarious drawing I did of Smartass and Greasy. Now, it's your turn to laugh!

Smartass and Greasy when they first meet

Smartass, glaring up at him: 😠 Goddammit, why are you so tall like a fuckin' giraffe 🦒?

Greasy: That's because you're built like a baked bean 🤣

Smartass: 💢💢A BAKED -- A BAKED BEAN?!?!💢💢

(Smartass kicks Greasy in the balls)

Smartass: 💢💢 BAKED BEAN THAT! BAKED BEAN THAT! 💢💢

OK, I'm done for the night. Enjoy! 😁

And then they became best friends 😂

Though dang. Your Greasy IS pretty tall O_O is he the tallest in your HC? Or is one or two members taller than him??

[soapgal-p]

SLIMY

*All of the following are not official settings, but my imagination.

He failed the Toon Patrol's hiring test because he sprayed all the members with slime vomit.

However, the slime's versatility, its police baton technique (physical ability) using a billy club, and its body's ability to blend into the darkness caught the boss's attention, and he became an unofficial member of the Toon Patrol.

 His primary job is undercover work and informer.

Occasionally goes out into the field to assist the Toon Patrol.

He does not have a regular job and his address is unknown.

When he runs out of money, he comes to the Toon Patrol office.

Much younger than Smartass, Greasy, and Wheezy.

Around 20 years old or so.

He is a young member, but he is familiar with older members and makes fun of them a bit.

The boss doesn't mind, but Greezy is not happy with his attitude.

[xxinkys-ocsxx]

The obsession grows.

[shy-nightmare]

OMG, YOU GUYS! HELP ME! 😱

Before you ask, yes, I had another dream. And yes, I'll tell you all about it. I'm just walking in town, minding my own business, and it's such a lovely evening. The wind is a gentle breeze, the stars are sparkling bright, and the moon is still and serene. For a moment, the night is peaceful and quiet.

But then, I hear a blaring siren, I turn around, and I see them.

I'm not playing with you, the weasels have infiltrated my sleep again. And it's not one or two of them. The whole pack. ALL FIVE! 😨

There's no one else around. Just me and them. And before I could blink, I'm literally being chased. Like how they chased Eddie, Roger, and Benny, they are now chasing me. Guys, this is not a joke. They're closing in on me. They've been haunting me for almost three months now. Everyone in that movie wants me to break.

I hate to say this, but...*sighs* It's time to take a vote.

I know it's been over two months since I started having these dreams, but as I continued being tortured and pursued, I started thinking. Everyone who I've interacted with has been so kind and welcoming (and yes, I'm tagging @trashogram, @just-kit-ink, @basiabd and @los-angeles-toon-patrol because they've been kind to me too 😊), and showed me nothing but kindness and compassion since I joined. And you've all liked what I've posted; my artwork, my chapters, and even my updates and moon photography. To me, it feels like I'm making a lot of progress and you guys really like what I've been sharing so far.

That's why I'm making this very first poll post. I want to hear what you think. @weaselnerd, @lastofautumn, and @imaginarytoon1, you're also invited and your opinions matter too 😁!

And @marinerainbow and @slashingdisneypasta A.K.A. @wicked1will0sparkles, if you're seeing this post, I'm sorry. The weasels got me 😔

Now, if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to go run and hide now. 🏃‍♀️

[weaselnerd]

Did full body drawings of the toon patrol with the new style

[basiabd]

Day 7 misteltoe. The first after missing two days. Schools really gotten too me and i was way too tired. But here have this. (Also no, i didnt forget to color the weasels. Its a lil headcanon/joke that the tp weasel and ONLY the tp weasel turn white during the winter.)

[trashogram]

Greasy: “Gimme a kiss.”

Reader: “Gimme a $20.”

[slashingdisneypasta]

Greasy Weasel Wallpapers

Made on BeFunky with Pixlr and AnimationScreencaps.com.

You're welcome to use ^^

[bigboy-lovers-unite]

His forehead looking greasy as fuck like I could cook a damn pork chop on it but I still love him ♥️