#lesser weasel

[maybejaime]

Lesser Weasel you will always be so silly to me

[gutsofgold]

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY TINY WITW FANDOM ILYSM <333

— Toad filled toad hall with rose petals. no, he does not have a valentine. yes, he acted like someone else did it for him

— Lesser made chief and cheryl little versions of themselves out of sticks and leaves

— mole and rat have an extra gay little picnic with a pink cake and lots of giggling

[thatrandomartistjavi]

Putting this here cause why not. Made this to silence the brainworms

[javi-selfships]

Sheryl be like “This is my boyfriend and this is my boyfriend’s boyfriend and this is my boyfriend’s other boyfriend”

[inthewiiildwoods]

the wild wooders sleep in a giant pile together during the day. chief weasel pretends he hates it so no one knows how comforted he is by the warmth + safety of being surrounded by His Guys™

lesser + cheryl always weasel their way into the pile to be at his side. they call a temporary truce to their rivalry each night so they can both enjoy these moments (as the alternative, they found, is they are both kicked out for their squabbling)

[metsaahenki]

trying to catch up with maystelid

i had a convention that drained all my energy, so i’m very slow with this rn…

20. (indonesian) mountain weasel

21. hunt. a commission including japanese badger with a bee

22. wolverine

23. european mink

24. tayra

25. lesser grison

[amber-tortoiseshell]

Phylogenetic weasel tournament

Family: Mustelidae

Subfamily: Ictonychinae

Genus: Galictis

Two very similar southern american species. They differ in their sizes and their natural ranges.

pictures: 1, 2, 3, 4

[animal-families-tournaments]

[sneakyweasel404]

I have been going mad over DAYS trying to settle on a character design for a mustelid character. My brain is melting.

They're a Colombian weasel, lesser grisson and a hybrid possibly-maybe.

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Masochist Bully + Quiet Reader Drabble

[Reader has a speech impediment. Mentions of Physical violence]

"Get back here!-"

The gravel in his voice does little to detour you. The heals on your shoes spring against concrete as you pick up pace - gunning for the accumulating crowd ahead. As appalling as human contact was most days, bumping shoulders with your schoolmates was the lesser evil to tackle.

Just a few more steps and you'd lose him for good. Head home, take a shower, go to bed, and when he approaches you tomorrow deny all accusations. There's loads of students in your school. What he saw today was merely a trick of the light. With luck, you could weasel your way out of this and maybe, just maybe finish out the semester without drawing attention to yourself-

A harsh tug on your book bag sucks you into one of the many crevices in your school's foundation formed between buildings. The fluff of your sweater cushions you from the oncoming shove, though something tells you if he had wanted to hurt you with that push he would've. Balling your collar in his fist, he evens out the short distance between you - warm breath tickling your cheek.

"What. The fuck was that?"

You blink - lips wired shut. What did he mean exactly? Your brief conversation with that kind girl who sat next to you after class? The handful of words you gave back? The fraction of a smile you gave her when she invited you to her pool party?

Turns out, it was all of the above.

"So you're making friends now, huh? What does she have that I don't?" He barks, knuckles ashen from the tightening grip on your collar. "I give you the same treatment she does. I wave at you, I invite you to sit with me so you aren't alone. Not a peep from you. Why. Is. She. Different?"

Maybe it's the fact she doesn't press you for a reply. Maybe it's because she took the time to become someone you felt safe enough to air your impairment around. Maybe it's because she didn't act like you speaking to her was a miracle- unlike someone you knew.

"Le-Let go..."

Erin cups his free hand around his ear. "What was that? Can't hear you when you're mumbling."

Its too late to turn back now.

"I s-s-said le-t go of me, Er-in."

He's bothered you long enough to know you aren't afraid of him. Not him directly. Is this it? The big secret you've been hiding from him?

"Do you.... have a stutter?"

Your silence speaks volumes.

"Holy shit- You totally do! Is that why you haven't spoken to me all this time? You afraid I'll make fun of you? Fuck, that's so cut-"

Elbow scrapping the wall as you wind your arm back, you fling your fist forward in a blow that connects square center with his chest. Erin wheeze, hold on your sweater slacking enough for you to wiggle free and escape - bolting out of the alleyway before he could retaliate.

Wiping spittle from his lips, Erin gazes wistful at the spot where you once stood. The one time he doesn't have his camera on you, and this happens- He didn't consider himself unlucky given what he gained regardless.

You spoke to him. Him. Of all people.

And that stutter of yours-

It could just be the pain of your punch messing with his head, but if you got any cuter his heart just might explode out of his chest.

[maybejaime]

I think Lesser Weasel should be allowed to say fuck. For enrichment.

[gutsofgold]

big fan of whatevers wrong with them

[theshycousin]

More Angel and David head cannons

(Not as many this time, please don’t hate me)

- David likes picking up Angel so he can look up at them

- David was defensive of Angel during the first few pack meetings because he worried the other members would condescend them or make them feel lesser

- Angel is a runner and ran cross country in high school (hence their smaller build)

- The pack tends to “baby” Angel and they hate it

- Angel refuses to tell David how much it bothers them because he sometimes does it too

- Darlin is the only one who doesn’t “baby” Angel because they know how Angel feels

- David bought Angel a big set of bookshelves for all of their books

- (here’s a long one) David finding a mate is a bigger deal than he has let on. Being single as the Shaw Pack Alpha was a huge opportunity for other pack to weasel their way into connections with him, so when he got with Angel, other packs were curious and disappointed to know he was off the market.

- David doesn’t tell Angel this so they don’t get intimidated

- David crosses his arms and leans on walls

- Angel forced Sam to line dance at the wedding

- When they’re tired or burnt out, Angel finds everything to be inexplicably hilarious

- They don’t have a TV in their room

[forthegothicheroine]

I've made a post about great lesser-known noirs, but it occurs to me that some of you might not be familiar with the classics, and might want to know where to start. This is a ridiculously short list- I have a million more to talk about- but here are some of the big stars of the genre.

The Maltese Falcon: Sam Spade, a clever but callous private detective, gets wrapped up in intrigue relating to an artifact that is functionally cursed. If he's an unscrupulous character, just wait until you meet everyone else. The whole damn cast is electrifying, lending charm and cruelty in equal measure.

The Big Sleep: Philip Marlowe, a kinder and more poetic detective for Humphrey Bogart to play than Spade, is called upon to deal with a wealthy, dysfunctional family, and it keeps on getting weirder from there. Is the sharp-tongued Vivian Sternwood the femme fatale she seems, or is she just another person trying to find the right thing to do in desperate circumstances? And will she and Marlowe keep their hands off each other until the plot has had its last twist?

Double Indemnity: Rich housewife Phyllis Dietrichson and sleazy insurance agent Walter Neff are, by their own admission, rotten people. It's only natural that they should plot a murder together, and that they should turn on each other the very second things go wrong. Every single domestic murder movie since 1944 has ripped this off.

Kiss Me Deadly: This is nominally an adaptation of a Mike Hammer story. Screenwriter Bezzerides hated Mike Hammer. As depicted here, he is one of the worst people in the world. Depending on the cut of the film you see, he may inadvertently cause the nuclear apocalypse. (For once, the theatrical cut is darker.)

Sweet Smell of Success: Cruel, all-powerful columnist JJ Hunsecker wants his sister's boyfriend out of the way (for reasons that are, um, ambiguous.) To accomplish this, he enlists the biggest weasel in New York, Sidney Falco, and the two completely deserve each other as they spend the rest of the movie trading elaborate insults. Popular on tumblr for its dialogue and chemistry between the leads.

Sunset Boulevard: Broke screenwriter Joe Gillis thinks he can con a has-been into hiring him as a script doctor, and that's the last free decision he ever gets to make. From then on, his life is in the hands of Norma Desmond, silent film starlet turned crazed recluse, terrifying yet intensely pitiable. This is as much gothic horror as noir.

Ace in the Hole: The story of a man trapped in a cave is turning out to be a big hit in the newspaper, and if the publicity will make a reporter's career, then what's the harm in delaying rescue just for a little while? This is as vicious as noir gets, but damn it, you've just got to see what happens next. (Watch Jacob Geller's video Fear of the Depths after this.)

Sorry Wrong Number: Of all the films on this list, this is the one that really scared me. In the days of switchboards, a rich hypocondriac woman is connected to the wrong phone line and overhears a murder being planned. It doesn't take her long to figure out she's the intended victim, and each call she makes or recieves makes the situation darker. But how can she escape her fate if she can't- or won't leave her bed?

The Asphalt Jungle: The heist movie. Maybe the only heist movie ever made. Every line is quotable. Every member of the team is an unforgettable personality. When things go wrong, they go horribly wrong. One minute you're laughing, and the next minute you think you'll never laugh again.

Gun Crazy: Laurie and Bart, two practiced sharpshooters, are perhaps the most perfect match in all of noir- and that's a bad thing. When one half of the duo gets a criminal idea in their head, the other can't say no. When the opportunity to ditch her man like a sap comes up, the femme fatale throws it away to be doomed at his side. He fell in love with her when she first aimed a gun at him. Quentin Tarantino kissed star Peggy Cummins's feet at a showing of the film, and I hope she kicked him in the head.

Laura: Everyone was in love with Laura Hunt, and somebody killed her- or did they? Did they get the right person? Is the cop on the case in love with a dead woman? Was her columnist mentor just her gay best friend, or was there something darker beneath that facade? And what would Laura think of all this? A big inspiration on Twin Peaks.

In a Lonely Place: Bogart isn't at all heroic here, as a screenwriter with a drinking habit and a violent temper. He's obviously a bad idea to date, but just how bad an idea? He's not the type of guy who'd kill a woman, is he? Bogart and Gloria Holden give perhaps their best performances here, and they'll wound your soul.

Touch of Evil: A Mexican cop (played, unfortunately, by Charlton Heston) finds out a nasty secret about the big hero cop Hank Quinlan: he's framed the culprit in most of his cases. Not because he's crooked, but because his intuition tells him they're guilty. Director Orson Welles as Quinlan is frightening, grotesque, and a little bit tragic in what some consider the last classic noir.

The Killers: The first twenty minutes or so are an adaptation of a Hemingway story, where out of town hitmen gun down a man so depressed he won't even bother to run from them. The rest of the film is an investigation into how he got that way. It had something to do with a radiant gangster's girl, and something to do with a few botched crimes. Sometimes a man can die before the bullets even touch him.

The Third Man: Everybody is lying about the whereabouts of an American expatriate named Harry when his friend comes looking. Did they do something to him? Or, more frightening still, is he the one who's been doing things to other people? Orson Welles is a more charming monster than he was in Touch of Evil; the light and shadows on his face cast him as a vampire, while his fingers sticking up through the sewer grate look like something terrifying emerging from the earth.

[hellsitegenetics]

mx genetics, can you diagnose my dog. i cant send u a photo obviously because tumblr asks but her name is amber, she is big and fat and red, very fluffy, old and bitter, and dumb as all fuck. there is not a thought in her brain. ever since we replaced the floors she has insisted on sleeping in my room. every night i have to try to kick her out to my moms or else she cries. she cries all the time. she is literally the worlds biggest crybaby. i think she is a seal

String identified: gtc, ca ag g. cat a t ca t a t a a, g a at a , , a tt, a a a c. t t a tgt a. c ac t a t g . gt a t t t c t t c. c a t t. ta t ggt ca. t a a

Closest match: Misopates orontium genome assembly, chromosome: 2 Common name: Lesser snapdragon, or weasel's snout

[shamrockqueen]

Omega retreat : chapter 1

Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Omega Reader

Warnings : R18, Eventual Smut, Not what it seems, talk of medical issues/illness, dating site, ABO dynamics

Word count : 2038

Bucky Masterlist

Summary : As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat. You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?

You almost stared through her as she spoke to you. Her tight bun of gray hair and her white coat match the sterile esthetic of the cold exam room you both sat in.

You never thought for even a moment that you would be having this kind of conversation, not at your age. You're young, you're healthy, and you should have plenty of time to make a family with the man of your choosing. Yet, there would always be this one thing that sat in the way.

Other women could plan out their lives however they wanted, marry, and even have children with anyone they chose. You were not so lucky. As an omega, you were bound by a biological law brought on by both your local government and your own body. You could fight it with medication at first, but over time everything would stop working, even the bodily system keeping you alive would eventually crash.

This heat had been so bad that you were barely able to move, let alone crawl as far as you had once you’d let yourself fall out of bed. You made it as far as the couch before everything blurred over and your vision turned black. You didn’t hear the phone ringing when work called regarding your absence, and you didn’t hear the banging at the door after they reached out to your family.

Your boss was one in a million, an omega who knew your plight and had the forethought to call your mother when you didn’t show up to work. Your dear mother was quick to call 911 when you didn’t pick up her calls. At least when the EMTs showed up, you were still breathing, but it was far too close of a call this time. If it weren’t for the people who cared about you, this story would have a far different ending.

After this last conversation with the doctor, you’ll be discharged, but you almost didn’t want to listen as she talked about how ‘it’s dangerous for omegas to go so long without having their heats satiated properly’ and that “suppressants can only go so far.”

You just didn’t want to believe it. You were still so young, and it felt like your whole life could come to a screeching halt in just one more month. Of course, all you needed was the real thing. No suppressants and no toys, just a living, breathing man to satiate your screaming inner omega. But, you’d never been with an alpha before; you’ve barely been with anyone, and you were scared.

One of your lesser qualities has always been your extensive social anxieties. Every time it seemed your boundary had to be pushed, you found a way to weasel out of it. You always chose avoidance over confrontation, until now. There was no avoidance anymore, and you knew that for your well-being something had to change.

“I’m just not sure if I’m ready.” You blotted away some fresh tears that tried to drip down your reddened cheek, with a little piece of tissue you had wadded up in your curled hand.

“I understand that for some, it can be a little scary, and we know you’ve done what you could to buy yourself just a little more time. But, this has become something that can’t be made to wait any longer.” Her voice was soothing, and it calmed you just a little, but the overwhelming realization that your bubble of comfort needed to be popped weighed just a little too heavily on you.

She reached behind her for a little blue pamphlet and handed it to you as she spoke. “I think it would be best to consider your options.”

You weren’t sure what that meant until you looked at the leaflet and saw a young woman on the cover looking just as confused as you with the words ‘how to practice safe sex’ sitting below her image.

Then it became very clear that you, in fact, had no other options; you only had one.

She got up to leave so you could get dressed for your discharge. You felt so juvenile as you stared daggers at the girl on the front page of the pamphlet. You wanted to crumple it up in your hand, throw the damn thing away, or maybe just toss it out the window. Yet, you just stared at it as the tears began to spill down your chin.

By the time you’d collected yourself enough to get your clothes on and grab the few things you’d brought with you, that stupid pamphlet was still in your hand. All the way to the check-out desk, you carried it.

It wasn’t until you were next in line to settle your copay that something else caught your eye and happily derail your pitiable thoughts.

It was a little red slip of paper tacked up to a cork board next to the discharge window. You weren’t able to read too much of it as the nurse handed you back your card, but the big, bold words ‘Omega retreat’ caught your attention, along with the image of a big, comfy bed in a cabin-esce setting.

You couldn’t help yourself when you grabbed one of the fliers off the wall before tucking your receipt and other paperwork in your purse. The nurse even smiled a little, as if she knew it was a good find too, as you left the doctor's office.

You forgot all about that blue nightmare of a paper booklet as you walked away with it still on the nurse’s desk. She didn’t think anything of it either as she picked it up and tossed it into the bin.

The idea of a dream getaway outranked a pamphlet for a budding omega's start to a pathetic sex life, much like yours. Maybe that would change, but for your well-being, it had to.

You didn’t stop to read the red flier just yet, and instead folded the paper in your hands as you walked back out to the parking lot. You finally drove away, absentmindedly listening to the grit of your tires rolling around the uneven road of your small town. You didn’t want to think; you didn’t want the distraction of music; you wanted your mind empty, as the numbness was the only thing keeping you from crying again.

With the aid of muscle memory, the drive home blew by quickly. Yet, as you parked in your spot at the duplex, you just slumped back in your seat and stared at the house. It was as if you’d find the answers to all your burning questions ingrained in the wood of the front door, but you knew there’d be none there.

It wasn’t long before the intrusive thoughts came creeping back in as the doctor's words echoed through each of your ears.

You were blessed with the ringing of your cellphone before you could start to break down again.

You unceremoniously sniffed back a flood of ugly tears before scrambling to dig your phone out of your bag.

You click the green button to answer, and the sweet sound of your mother’s voice fills your ear.

“Hi sweetie, did you leave the hospital already?”

“Uh, yeah. I was able to get discharged a while ago; sorry, I hadn’t called you yet.” You felt your hand shake as you gripped the phone.

“That’s ok, dear, as long as you feel better. Did the doctor say anything about how to fix this?”

“She told me what they’ve all told me, mom.”

She sighed for a second before speaking. “And it wasn’t an answer you wanted to hear, I’m sure.”

“They told me to explore my ‘options’.” The second that word spilled from your lips, you thought back about that blue eyesore the doctor had handed you. Though it wasn’t with any of your possessions anymore, You must have left it behind by accident, but you weren’t very heartbroken about it. In its place, of course, was the red flier you’d since folded up, and your eyes were once again caught on its deep and vibrant color as it poked through your purse.

“I want you to do what you think is best, but I don’t ever want to find you like that again.” Your mother’s tone became more serious.

You felt a stray tear leave a warm streak down your cheek to drip off your chin. Your stomach twisted at the thought of perishing in a fog of heat just to leave behind a pitiable corpse.

“I want things to get better, you know I do.”

“I know, dear; I’m just worried. It’s my job to worry after you.”

You chuckled a little before ending the call with a small sentiment. “I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, dear.”

“Bye.” You clicked the call off and sat in your car to wait out a rush of anxiety. You grabbed your bag and pushed out of the car, tossing the door closed as you approached the house.

Once inside, you dropped your purse at the door and just kept walking. The flier, however, sat in your hand after you absentmindedly pinched it between your fingers, waiting to entice you further once you sat back and sunk into your soft couch.

You finally unfolded it, looking over the larger, bolder letters first. ‘Omega retreat. Book your tickets today for a match made in heaven.’

It was a vacation package? Or was it a dating site? It looked like a strange combination of both, and what was even stranger was that it was tacked up in a doctor's office in the first place. Stuff like this usually wouldn’t be allowed in clinics, instead finding their home tacked up in grocery stores or small businesses.

It wasn’t anything to dwell on anymore as you held the slip of paper closer to read it.

“Forget me knot…stud of your choosing." It may be more than just a ‘dating’ service. The premise of being matched with an Alpha ‘Stud’ for a ‘forget me knot’ getaway made a burst of heat rise up in your belly and made your fingers shake just a little.

You’d never been with an alpha before, and although the premise sounds nice, it was still a little scary. The alpha breed had its own rumored behavior of aggression, but it was often accompanied by stories regarding sexual prowess. There were a few omegas from your old school that got their marks before graduating, and a couple others that bounced around from knot to knot comparing girth, roughness, and strength.

Then there was little old you, turning red at the corner of the table as you tried not to draw attention to yourself as you eavesdropped on every juicy moment. You can still remember choking on your sandwich, as one girl described what it was like popping her first knot.

You stared down at your coffee table for a moment, flier now crushed in your tightening little fist as a wave of embarrassment hit you square in the face, lighting your skin in a sharp wave of warmth.

The times have changed, haven’t they? You weren’t the scared little Omega from high school who turned pink at the drop of a hat; you were a beautifully bloomed woman. Yet, sometimes, when you catch sight of your peachy face in the reflection of a mirror, you're not sure anything has changed at all.

The only change that was certain was that many things were much more complicated than when you were younger, namely your body’s natural cycle. That rosy face could heat up and completely boil over the next time your heat rolled around, and with no one to take the pain away, it could lead to your early demise.

Maybe the doctor was right, maybe you needed to find some options, but on your terms.

You look back at the flier, spotting a website listed at the bottom of the page. You chewed at your lower lip before looking over at where your phone still sat by your purse. It wouldn’t hurt to just get a little more information; it would be just a little look, and maybe for the better.

Chapter 2