#Wheezy 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]

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

[slashingdisneypasta]

Wheezy Weasel x Fem!Witch!Reader || Excerpt

Plot: Wheezy wakes up to find you dancing outside under the moon. And he doesn't believe in fate but you do make him wonder. 🌑🌑🌑

Warnings: Nothing really. Profanity? Unedited/Written on phone.

Tagging: @astridflo , @marinerainbow , @moxiiscool , and @spookiifi .

Wheezy thought you were crazy; dancing out here in the middle of the night, candles lit around you looking ethereal even in the middle of a back alley street. He always thought you were crazy doing this shit. Especially when it was snowing- which luckily, tonight wasn't one of those nights. If it was then he'd have to pick you up and carry you back inside- he'd done it before. Instead it was the first break in Hollywood heat after a week of scorchers. Cool breeze blows over him, making his yellow stained, sleep wrinkled clothes flicker against the cool wind.

He stops in the doorway to watch you in the street for a a little bit, leaning against his shoulder on the doorframe just letting the cool inside the apartment. Taking the moment to enjoy the change in weather, and a smoke.

When you catch sight of him casually watching you, drinking you in like the only thing that'll really hold onto his attention these days - despite the fact he thinks you're nuts, -  , you flash him a bright smile. A pretty as fuck smile. And waive him over.

With a smirk, a cigerette glowing bright between his teeth, and a shake of his head- he moves off the doorframe and finds you in the street. As soon as he's close, you take his hands and take an oppertunity for a break; pausing your dance to catch your breath. "Hey," You whisper, breathless, that smile he loves still all over your face. "Sorry, did I wake you up??"

"Nah," Your absence from his bed definitely did wake him up- but that ain't your problem. "Real nice dancing, doll. Y'look good. How long y'been out here?"

With a shrug, you look around you. The empty street, dry from days and days of hot sun and no rain at all; the other buildings, covered in grafitti and grease stains; Him, beautiful and tall and a little scary. "Not long... " So probably too long then, he thinks, smirking around his cig again. She needs to get some sleep- but there ain't much he can do about that.

His only job here is to keep you happy- and if lighting candles and dancing in the middle of the street makes you happy, thats easy enough. "... so yer dancin' under the moon again, huh? What's the occasion?" Doesn't matter that in the city you can't see shit in the sky except black soot as far as the skyline; you'll dance for the moon anyway. Every now and then.

"Oh- nothing this time~ " You give a small secretive smile; looking at him with eyes full of mischief. "Just happy right now."

"... that so?" He asks, waiting for the good bit.

That mischievious smile still on your lips, you lean up and get onto your tip-toes and stretch your neck, take the cigerette from his lips, and give him a slow, warm kiss. The breeze brushes you both by gently, whispering around you like spirits wondering how this story will end- if it'll be happy or a tragedy. The man has issues, a couple of reasons he shouldn't be allowed to be so happy, but the woman almost makes up for it. They guess that only time will tell.

"Yeah... " You whisper, your breath on his face almost better then smoke. Just as addictive, at least. Fuck. "Just really happy."

His eyes are intense, searing into yours. You give him back his cigarette.

Wheezy doesn't say anything. He doesnt believe in spirits, or fate, or the universe planning stuff- shit just happens, and you deal with it. But still, a dumb part of him thinks if he admits loud enough how good this particular shit turned out-- then something is gonna realise it made a big mistake giving this to him and take you away. And that's not gonna happen. That choice is up to you and you alone; and he's gonna make sure of that.

So wordlessly, Wheezy let's you draw him into your dance again; swaying gently in the light if some crackling candles and a buzzing street lamp down the way. The moon and the stars, the kinda crap that can almost make you believe in magic and fates, twinkling somewhere high in the sky.

[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. 

[lastofautumn]

What is this. Why is Wheezy wearing yellow

[seashellisinmyheart]

Mah bois.

[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.

[marinerainbow]

I have been obsessed with Bistro Huddy for a couple days now, and I found this video and... I can't. I can't stop thinking about this with my Poppy ships. I had to write this crack XD

@just-kit-ink and @wicked1will0sparkles I have a feeling this'll get a chuckle out of you guys (for the sake of argument, let's say that Shiny and Poppy do work for the TP from time to time in this fic. Like... Poppy can offer them info about some of the Uptown toon she works with, and Shiny can do all kinds of crimes with them).

~

It was a rare, and almost frightening, sight to see the boss smiling. Not in an unnerving way, not in smug pride, but actual genuine joy from another person. It almost never happened. Which was why Greasy knew something had to be up between Smartass and Poppy when he saw the two laughing and drinking coffee side by side in the kitchen.

"Ohhhoho! You really said that??"

"Well 'yea, what else was I gonna say? You 'shoulda seen the look on his mug!" The weasel breathed out a few chuckles before he noticed the new presence and looked up, just in time to see his right hand man smirking at him knowingly. Rolling his eyes and shrugging, Smartass chose to just cut himself off, now that he and Poppy weren't alone anymore, "Alright, I'll tell 'ya what happened next later. Seeya at lunch."

It wasn't lost on Poppy that another person's presence did ruin the mood, but she didn't make any implication about that. She didn't want to hurt the Spaniards' feelings... That and work needed to be done anyway. So she just nodded, "Alright. I should get you the paperwork you need by ten, at the latest."

"Sounds good."

Poppy walked off with her mug and a smile, nodding and offering Greasy a cheery "Bonjour." As she passed him and slipped out the kitchen door. That left him the opportunity to smirk knowingly at his boss, who rolled his eyes in response, "Buen día."

"Shuddap, Grease."

Though 'shutting up' was not on Greasy's plans. Not after what he just witnessed. The weasel took his time grabbing his coffee cup from the cupboard and pouring himself some of the much needed caffeinated liquid, all while keeping eye contact with a Smartass who was ever-increasingly going back to his grumpy persona. This probably wasn't a good idea to poke the bear before he could finish his coffee... But hey, this was what happened when you chuck out the TV the night before, and there was nothing else to entertain your right hand man, "So, I see you and Poppy have a little something going on~"

Usually there would be a tapping foot- or a death glare- or a twitching hand and glancing towards the nearest object that would tell the taller weasel that there was indeed something happening between his boss and their sweet friend. However, Smartass must have been truly exhausted since he just huffed and went back to stirring his coffee, "There ain't 'nothin going on. That's just how a work marriage is

The ear-to-ear grin on Greasy's face fell instantly after that, and looked like his brain was shutting down from attempting to process what Smartass just said. As if he claimed that Bugs Bunny was actually a crcodile, "A... A Work marriage?"

"What?? You 'nevah heard of it??" The hint of jealousy in Greasy's eyes seemed to be lost on the head weasel. He looked more surprised at the thought of him not being aware of the special relationship one could have with their coworkers, "Well I ain't explainin' it-"

"Ohhh no, I know what a work wife is. Because that is what Poppy is to me."

The sip that Smartass had attempted to drink almost got coughed up onto his suit. The pink weasel actually had to set the cup down before he glowrred at the other toon. There was absolutely no way his ears were working right. At least Greasy better hope they weren't, "Excuse you??"

Instead of being intimidated, Greasy just crossed his arms and seemed to take on the challenge instead, "You heard me, boss. If she's work married to anybody in this house, it's me."

"Oh no. Uh-uh bub. She's work married t'me."

"No, Poppy is my work wife."

The two weasels whipped their heads towards the doorway, looking at a just woken, disheveled, feral looking Psycho staring at them like they were the insane ones. And he was sending Greasy in particular a glare that could make any iron-willed man feel weak in the bladder, "You already have Shiny. You can't have Poppy too."

At that, Smartass immediately turned back towards Greasy with his fists on his hips, "Oh! You got that lunatic, but you're over here movin' in on my work gal??"

"MY work wife! Get your own!"

"And who's to say I must limit myself to one beautiful woman, eh?" Greasy glanced between his comrades with a hand to his chest, like he wasn't just getting on Smartass' case for being work married to Poppy, "How is that fair?"

"How is tha- BOY-"

"Actually, I'm Poppy's work husband too."

"WHAT!?"All three looked straight at the smoker, now standing in the doorway and looking like he just made the biggest mistake in his life. Why he thought it was a good idea to say that out loud, who knows. But the smoker just groaned and walked further in the kitchen to grab an apple from the fruit bowl, with Stupid following after him.

"Duh, what's happening here?"

Seeing the big lug of a weasel come in all confused made Greasy and Smartass narrow their eyes at him in suspicion. Psycho on the other hand was too busy growling at an unphased Wheezy, "Estúpido, you better not say you're Poppy's work husband too."

Stupid blinked at his brother and coworker for a moment, before his eyes lit up once he caught up with the topic of discussion, "Huh? Noooo, we're not work married!"

"Good. I don't need'ta deal with yo-"

"She's my work mom!"

The whole room fell silent. Smartass and Greasy glanced to each other before looking at the oblivious Stupid, and even Psycho had paused his confrontation with Wheezy- who was now burying his face in his free hand, "Stu, don't-"

"And Wheezy is my work dad!" The buck toothed toon proclaimed happily as he pointed to the internally dying Wheezy, still blissfully unaware of the tension in the room, "He and Poppy work adopted me! We even got ice cream yesterday!"

...

At that moment, without even looking up from his paw, Wheezy knew his smokes would not be enough emotional support to face these ridiculous weasels, "Ok, guys-"

"YOU STARTED A WORK FAMILY WITH POPPY!?"

"¡Destructor de hogares!"

"Is there ANYBODY in this house NOT puttin' the work moves on her!?"

"I'm not, boss!"

"SHUT UP!"

Breakfast and coffee were on no ones mind now. The entire kitchen was quickly filled with screaming, threats, and proclamations of betrayal. Poor Stupid could only stand there, glancing to his work dad and pleading with his eyes for an answer of what to do. Though all Wheezy would do was suck in as much toxic smoke as he could while he still had the chance. Before Smartass could throw the toaster, or Psycho could pounce on somebody.

The only thing that could break up the whole room was the very rabbit of discussion when she poked her head inside in concern. Her eyes pinned down against her head and her eyes were wide as they darted to each individual in the room, "Uh, g-guys? Is everything-"

"Get outta here while you still can, Pops."

"What do you-"

She just barely managed to contain her shriek when suddenly all four pairs of eyes locked onto her, making her stand straight up at attention. The moment to escape was long gone now, "Guys...?"

A long silence hung in the air as the first three weasels all looked at each other, as if agreeing upon something, then looked right back at Poppy. Stupid scratched under his propeller hat in confusion, and Wheezy closed his eyes to fully enjoy the silence before it would be undoubtedly ruined again.

---

"What on Earth- What are you guys talking about?"

Having taken this out to the living room, Poppy was seated on the couch and resisted rubbing her temples. The papers she was working on for Smartass were currently strewn about the coffee table, but all she could focus on were the weasels surrounding her. Wheezy was sitting on her left, not at all wanting to be here either. Smartass was sitting straight up in his own chair, tapping his foot with his arms crossed. Greasy had been trying to sit on Poppy's right, though he kept getting driven off by Psycho who was standing by the couch like a gargoyle. And Stupid was busy getting himself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen now that it wasn't crowded anymore.

If Poppy had been told she was going to be in the middle of a work love triangle- or rectangle in this case- with four of Toontowns biggest criminals four years ago, she would have laughed it off as a joke.

"I don't know how we can make it any clearer, but fine." Smartass huffed out as he leaned forward, almost looking like he was in the middle of one of his business meetings, "These nimrods think you're their work wife. We gotta clear it all up, like usual."

"Smarty-"

"Poppy, it's alright. I know this is all a terrible misunderstanding." Greasy still hadn't managed to slip past Psycho, so he chose to kneel in front of her and take her paw in his hands all dramatic like. He looked like the love interest in one of his novelas, and Poppy just looked so tired, "Just tell these putas that you, Shiny, and I are exclusive. Then we can get back to normal, si?"

"Listen-"

Poppy was once again interrupted, but this time by Psycho as he hopped over the couch just to smack at Greasy's face and hiss like a territorial housecat. The second in command managed to jumo back in time, but that didn't make the lunatic back off, "¿¡Qué carajo!?"

"You go be 'exclusive' with Shiny!"

"Yeah, you shouldn't even be here!"

While the three spiraled into yet another argument, Poppy heaved out a defeated sigh before looking towards the only sane one right now. Their eyes met and, like always, they shared a silent moment of pity and understanding for the other, "Help me."

Although he truly felt sorry for his work wife, and wanted nothing more than to escape this madhouse, there really was nothing Wheezy could do for either of them. All Poppy had to see was his slumped shoulders to know what he was going to say, "I tried, Poppy. You know how they get."

The toon groaned as she gave in and leaned back on the couch to rest her head on the back. Her headache growing with each curse word flung around. Why couldn't these guys just... The bond formed within a stressful and emotionally draining work environment knew no bounds. It couldn't just be contained to one individual. Why couldn't these jerks see that??

Well, at least Wheezy understood it. And Greasy, to an extent... Maybe it was more of a pride thing between him, Psycho and Smartass. If that was the case, then she could get this fixed no prob-

"Alright then. How about a fight?"

Blinking back into the present, and getting over the jarring sudden silence that befell the living room, Poppy turned her head far back enough to see the source of the familiar voice; Shiny standing in the middle of the open front door, with what looked like a crate of her homebrewed alcohol tucked under her arm. The arguing must have been loud enough to cover Shiny coming inside. But either way, her announcing her presence caused the three weasels to actually pause in their bickering, "You guys heard what I said."

Oh god no, "I- Shiny, I don't think that- we don't want that to happen."

The weasel lady just shrugged as she kicked the door closed behind her, taking turns to look each and every one of them in the eye- including Psycho, despite the probability of him taking that as a challenge in the mood he was in now being high. She didn't even bother trying to hide her smirk while placing the moonshine on the nearest syrface as she reiterated, "If you guys want her to choose, why not prove your worthiness and fight for her?

"Shiny, for the love of God, no." Wheezy stated in a firm voice he didn't often use. Glancing to his team, he could see the gears turning in Psycho's and Greasy's heads as they briefly shared a look. Fortunately, though, Smartass at least was currently stuttering out a response in disbelief. Hopefully, that meant the boss' sanity was coming back.

"Too late, Cowboy."

"No! No, not too late! Guys!-"

"You know what?!" Finally. Smartass was being the leader he should have been from the start. Standing up and pointing a finger at the mischievous woman, who just raised an amused brow right back at him, he snapped, "You don't get to come in here and-"

Though he was too late. The time for actual sense in this house had passed. That was made obvious when Smartass was sent flying over his chair and across the room. After a straightjacket clad weasel launched himself right at him. Psycho' battle screech and Smartass' cursing and gun clicking filled the room, and all Greasy did was pull out his switchblade and started cleaning it; preparing himself for war.

Although his expression remained partially neutral, his shaking hands while he lit up his whole pack and jumped right out of his seat showed how absolutely done he was. He wasn't going to bother trying to pull those maniacs away from each other. Not when he didn't even want to make a big deal out of this in the first place, "I'm out."

"PSYCHO NO!" While Wheezy was walking away from the others, Poppy leaped up to her feet with intentions of trying to break up the fight. Though before she could take a step towards the brawl, she was stopped when Shiny placed her well manicured paw on her shoulder. Looking behind her, Poppy watched her shake her head, silently telling her 'it's not worth it, honey', "Shiny!-"

"Let them get it out of their system. They clearly need it, sugar." The woman casually shrugged. The tiny smirk on her lips, though, showed she had more selfish reasons for starting this between them... And that she wasn't going to even try to hide it, "Besides, it's funny how easy they all are. Isn't it?"

"N-No! I can't let my work marriages fall apart!"

"Oh, please. This'll get through to them better than 'sitting down and talking it out' ever would. And you know it." Shiny sighed- not as dramatically as Greasy was renowned for, but there was a hint of drama behind it- before wrapping her arms around the rabbits shoulders and pulling her around and close, making Poppy completely face her now. Good thing, too. As the pencil holder that flew behind Poppy would have hit her in the eye otherwise. Even though Poppy was upset, the look of worry and slight anger towards her was absolutely adorable, and only made Shiny's grin broaden, "Besides, it doesn't really matter in the end. Does it?"

The tiny frown on Poppy's face faltered at that. Though not because she was comprehending how close her best friend was now, "How?"

"'Cause you and I both know that out of everybody here, I'm your true work spouse."

"Oh my god-"

"Hey! I didn't say anything about being the only one! I'm just saying that I'm the matriarch of your little work harem~"

...

Somehow, despite her soured mood, despite the waging three-way war happening just mere feet from them, Shiny still managed to get a smile, and even a little chuckle, out of her. Shaking her head, Poppy decided in that moment to just press her forehead against her favorite lady's crown, and enjoy this tiny moment between them while it could last, "You're terrible."

~

Not paying any mind to the sounds of agony from the three men, or the crashing and breaking of wood, or Smartass' "WHERE'D PSYCHO GET THE LAWN CHAIR!?!?", the dancer just touched noses with her little rabbit and giggled alongside her, "I know~"

While the girls were distracted, Stupid poked his head out of the kitchen doorway to see what was causing so much of a rucus. Crumbs of ceral still unwiped from his lips, "What's going-"

One look at the three feral weasels, a mising Wheezy, and Poppy and Shiny completely forgetting the world around them, Stupid had made probably the smartest decision he ever hsad made in his life at that moment. He quickly and quietly slipped back in the kitchen to finish his food, "Nevermind!"

This got a little genuine Popshine'y at the end of the crack. I don't regret it XD

[yakkety-yak-art]

wtf!!!

[shy-nightmare]

The Frayed Ends of Sanity

Hey, guys! 😁👋

Before I begin, I want to apologize. I know I haven't been posting or active a lot lately, things have been pretty tough for me the last two and a half weeks...and I haven't been feeling great lately 😞. I've been under a lot of stress (as per usual 😭), and I got a little under the weather 🤧. Don't worry, though! I'm feeling better now ^^

@weaselnerd, @lastofautumn, @amberfox232, @spookiifi, @heartsissopure, @los-angeles-toon-patrol, @imaginarytoon1, @just-kit-ink A.K A. @thatnerdgirl7, @trashogram A.K.A. @mantisandthemoondragon, @marinerainbow, @basiabd and @slashingdisneypasta A.K.A. @wicked1will0sparkles, I just want you all to know that I'm always thinking of you and I hope you enjoy this drawing I made based on a scene in Chapter 12: The Frayed Ends of Sanity as my apology gift for being so absent 🎁 Also, I FINALLY DREW THE WEASELS ALL TOGETHER!!! THE BOYS ARE BAAAAACK!!!!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳

I feel so bad for making you guys wait so long, whether it's a drawing or a chapter because of my schedule 😩. I know you all enjoy my art, and I know you're eager about when the next chapter will come out. I need a lot of time to edit this one, so I plan on posting Chapter 13 on Friday, March 14th at 11:45 A.M.

Until then, a word of caution.

There's a reason why I'm posting this chapter on the second week of March, and not just because of editing. Chapter 13...is much darker than 1, 7, and 12. I've been very quiet about this part of the story since I joined, but now the time has come to learn the truth about the Twisted Toonz Twins and why they left Chicago that night.

Not only that, but you are about to question everything about reality...and the Tooniverse. And when I say everything, I mean everything.

So when the time comes, I strongly suggest you do the following: grab some comfort snacks, weighted blankets, plushies. Whatever you have, bring all of it. Yes, it's THAT serious. And I'll be honest, I will not be surprised if you guys blow up my DMs or my inbox and ask me some serious questions. I won't blame you.

Thank you all for your time and thank you all for being my friends 🤗!

Love,

Shy-Nightmare 🌙

[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!

[slashingdisneypasta]

Wheezy Weasel x Younger!Reader || Drabble

Plot: That 🔼🔼🔼

Warnings: Age difference + smoking + smuttiness. Unedited.

Tagging: @astridflo , @disney-android-foundation , @marinerainbow , @moxiiscool .

You loved him. Or you were obsessed with him. Or both. You knew that, for sure. You just never knew... if he felt the same. He kept his feelings very close to the vest; worried you were so young and he was a fucking creep.

Maybe he was, he was already a thug anyway, but you sure didn't care. In fact the sooner that the old bastard came to terms with being a creep, the better for you.

So no, despite your feelings (Your very obvious feelings, that you don't even attempt to hide from anyone, least of all him), you were not a couple. Still though, you often found yourself hanging all over him late at night, after the other weasels have all gone to bed. Your legs spread across his thighs, or leaning against him, or fully sat in lap. For some reason... he never complains. There was a silent understanding, even if one of you was tired, you would stay up and watch TV together; and pretend it was by coincidence.

Tonight you're particularly tired, feeling foggy and affectionate. It had been a long day and all you could think about now was Wheezy; you wanted to cuddle up to him and stay there for as long as possible; you didn't even care about the smell. After you absentmindedly watch Greasy, the last one to go off to bed, your gaze shifts over to Wheezy looking handsome as hell- as always- smoking a couple cig's tucked between his teeth so the grey smoke puffs slowly, softly upwards towards the ceiling in warm billows. His eyes seem to glow dangerously behind it, watching TV even though he knows you're watching. You always liked that.

"... hey Wheezy?" You ask, shifting across the couch and gently laying your legs over his lap, and wrapping your arms around one of his. This causes him to sigh through grit teeth, because god forbid he let the cigarettes go for a second, and relax under your touch almost immediately. Like he cant help it. You like that, too. You never miss it; you always make sure to watch, when you touch him.

"Yeh?"

"How come you smoke?"

At this he glances down at you, scary luminescent crystalline hues gliding down your body and- oh. Thats unexpected. He- did he really just- Yes, he actually did.

Your cheeks warm up as he shrugs, turning back to the TV. "What can I say? Keeps my mouth and my hands busy. 'therwise I start sayin' things I shouldn't. Doin'... uh, things, I shouldn't."

"Well- do you think you'll ever stop smoking?"

"Babygirl, I'll stop this fucken second, if you gimmie a better use for my hands and mouth." As soon as he says that your eyes light up and you part your lips to respond- but he beats you to it. Realises what he said. "Oh, fuck. Listen, I didn't mean it that way. Yer too young, y' know that. I could be yer grandpa. Thats that."

Immediately your face falls, even though he sounds more like he's telling himself. Even though he likes you hanging off him. Even though he stays up to be with you. Against all the evidence, because its always this way. He never wants to take the last little step; he's a coward.

You're not even that young, you think, frustrated. Just because he's an old man... A pout appears on your face and when he glances at you, and sees it on your cute lips, it breaks something in him.

You only know it when he turns suddenly towards you and flicks his burning cigarettes into the ash tray on the coffee table. " -'then again, I could be a fucken idiot."

"Wh- "

His lips slam into yours and you release a whimper on impact, parting your lips immediately for him and accepting his experienced tongue into your mouth for the first time. His hands fall down your body, guiding you to lay down and wrap your legs around him- one at a time. Dragging your right leg over his hip and then the left. When you're all wrapped around him you can feel how hard he is for you. Fuck. He must've been like that the whole time.

His lips glide down over your chin and over your throat, leaving hot firm kisses all along the way, and talking gruffly against your skin between every touch; his fingers in your hair holding you still. "Look. what you fucken. did now. Kid. Made me a scumbag. Like Grease. Well," His lips graze gently back upwards, over your lips. When he doesn't immediately kiss you again you have to force your eyes to crack open. See him looking sternly at you; almost scary but it only makes you feel hotter, more light headed. "Now I'm all yours. Your-fucken-problem. Congrats." He says it like its a penalty. A punishment, somehow, instead of what you wanted. "'lright?"

He was asking you one last time. Giving you one last Out.

Goddamnit, this man!-

Instead of answering that stupid question, you lean up and kiss him deeply. "Take me now... "

"Jesus."

[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]

So the cuddle puddle:

Reader is the centerpiece, obviously. Psycho sleeps up by your head, and of course he’s one of those sleepers that does it with his eyes open.

Smartass sleeps with his back to you (at first, but in the morning his face is buried in your hair) at your side.

Stupid is bestest boy because he holds onto you while he snuggles on your other side and his size keeps Greasy from getting any action. Grease holds your leg tightly and you have to jerk it away whenever he gets too confident.

Wheezy sleeps sitting up against the bed pole, hat lowered over his eyes, but he’s always got his foot pressed to yours to make sure you know he’s there.

[lastofautumn]

Wheezy