WIND IN THE WILLOWS REDESIGNS LET'S GOOOOOOO!!!!

a few friends from the Wood and the Riverbank

Painted a scene from "The Wind in the Willows" as a Christmas card for my mom!

I need someone to yell at me about the Wind in the Willows musical pls

It's been going around and around in my brain for a few days now

Ratty & Mole have my heart <33

Saw this meme from @sardinesandhumbugs and really wanted to draw it 😄

Wind in the Willows fandom is this anything? gbkjgjklwgbljk

At first I was gonna put Mole in "freak out" but thought that one was more fitting so that one is empty as I had a brain blank

A Weasel’s Will: How I Became the Chief of the Weasels

By Crispin Weasel

[Hello! As I promised ages ago here is the transcribed version of the Chief’s letter from the West End programme! This was something written by the Chief’s actor, Neil McDermott, as a bit of character flavouring, and it is. a bit of a wild ride from start to finish. Let me know what you think of it!]

x

Greetings, friends! It is I, Crispin Weasel, Chief of the Weasels. And yes, Crispin is my real name. Apparently, when I was born a packet of Chicken flavoured ‘crisps’ was dropped ‘in’ our home. My (if I’m honest) slightly simple parents saw the crisps as a sign that I would bring them a change in fortune. You see, we didn’t have much. We were poor, hungry, dirty, and scared. So, needless to say, they scoffed the crisps and my father, often the bad joker, thought it would be funny to name me Crispin. After the crisps that had just dropped in. Could have been worse I suppose. They could have called me Chicken.

As you can imagine, my rather unusual name caused many problems in the schoolyard. At the time, the Weasel Chiefs encouraged the youngsters to all be the same. They believe this was the best way for us to be strong. The pack would all look the same, and HUNT the same. Which was a pity for me, as I just wasn’t the same. Not only did I have an odd name, I also had an odd voice. It was higher pitched than all the other Weasels. Squeakier. Still is. Not only that but I looked different too. I was skinnier than the rest, as my family could never feed me. And I also had, what was considered, an unfortunate taste in fashion. It seemed whatever I wore, however I styled my hair, whichever music I listened to was wrong. And thus, I was constantly bullied. Every day of my childhood. I had no friends. I was an outcast. And I was angry. Not angry as in shouting and screaming, thumping and scratching. But hidden, deep inside. For now.

Now, like many creatures that are forced to live a lonely existence, I had to provide my own entertainment. This I did by focusing on my one joy in life. Dancing. Unlike the other Weasels I had an appetite for shaking my booty. I would spend all my spare time finding a quiet part of the Wild Woods perfecting my art of dance. My own individual style that came from all that anger I was holding inside, bursting out in a surge of energy. It was the one thing that not only made me smile, but made me feel powerful. It may sound like a useless hobby, but it became my greatest friend and deadliest weapon…

So yes, my childhood was all rather wretched. But the most devastating tragedy was yet to occur. One Spring afternoon, the Weasel Chiefs came home with their biggest ever prize. They had managed to capture a Mrs Badger. It was unheard of for a pack of Weasels to bring home an animal as large and dangerous as a Badger. The party that ensued as we feasted on the badger was like nothing I had witnessed before. The screeches of delight could be heard all through the Wild Wood. In hindsight, it may have been wiser to have held the party in silence. A Mr Badger heard all the squealing and shrieking and charged into the soiree, avenging his mate, massacring any Weasel that stood in his way. The Weasels all scattered like wildfire, myself included. I wasn’t the fastest but I did know lots of hiding places in the Wild Wood. I was spared. But many weren’t. My own parents included. Now as much as my parents were simple, often selfish, unbelievable foolish and terrible hunters, they did love me very much. They always encouraged me to express myself as I saw fit. They were the things my parents loved most about me and I loved them back because of that. If I thought I was angry before it was nothing to the overwhelming feeling I now had of despair and fury. The carelessness of The Pack had caused the death of the only family I had in the world. I ran away. As fast as I could. The pack had no longer any leaders and we would all have to fend for ourselves.

They say, it is often in our lowest moments that you find out the most about yourself. Never was this more apparent than after my escape. I sat in woods, sobbing in anguish, when I looked up to see a hare staring at me. I couldn’t be sure if the animal was feeling sorry for me or about to consume me. But I had been taught to always expect the worst. To attack before being attacked. The problem was I didn’t know how to. I was the weak, spineless Weasel I had always been told I was. I would run before I fought. I was my father’s son. And I was petrified. So I did the only thing I knew how to do. I danced. Like I’d never danced before. Like it was the last time I would, which it most likely would be. Eventually I paused. And the hare… was frozen. In a trance. Unable to move. I slowly moved towards the animal. It seemed, somehow, my dancing had debilitated it. It couldn’t move a muscle. It was mine. My prey. My food. I would survive.

I lived alone for some time as I perfected my skill on different prey. Don’t think badly of me. It is the circle of life. An animal has to eat and a Weasel cannot survive on shrubs and berries alone. After a period of time I returned to The Pack. What I saw disgusted me. My kind was near extinction, living in squalor. I released I had a greater duty. And so I brought them food. Brought them hope. The Weasel that was once thought of as being the lowest of the low, the feeblest of the feeble, was now treated as a hero. It wasn’t long before I took my rightful place as the sole Chief of the Weasels. And it felt good. Those differences of mine that once made my life hell were now the very reasons that I was looked up to. I shared my new found hunting style, saving a few of my most fearsome moves so as not to be overthrown, and it became known as The Weasel War Dance. The deadliest weapon a weasel would possess for generations to come.

So, life was complete. I was happy, for the first time in my life. But with power comes pressure. And so I started to formulate my plan. As usual I thought outside of the box as to what would make us even stronger. And here it is.

In the future I plan to join forces with the other smaller predators, the stoats, the foxes, whoever wants to join our crusade. Together, in larger numbers, we can become the most feared of all the Wild Wooders. One day, perhaps, I can create a super predator. Half Weasel. Half Stoat. An all-powerful crossbreed. We have always been considered a weak breed, but in time The Weasel will rule not only The Wild Wood, but The Riverbank and The Wide World too. And as for the Badger. He will eventually feel my revenge!

(Just don’t tell him that, just yet… I’m not quite ready… he is quite the force of nature… I’d certainly need an army… please. This is just between us, friends.)

Yours Weasely,

Chief Crispin Weasel

By Neil McDermott        

I have headcanons for how the characters act on Halloween- a lot of these come from my good friend and fellow actor in the play, she doesn't have a tumblr but she is in our Weasel Hall discord server.

Badger - Doesn't go Trick or Treating, hands out candy instead

Mole - Dresses up as the basic Halloween costumes [vampire, Frankenstein's monster, etc], doesn't like being scared, likes the treats more than the tricks

Ratty - Often helps Badger hand out candy, sometimes goes Trick or Treating with Mole

Toad - Takes more than one candy from the bowls that say "take one", loves spooking people

Mrs Otter and Portia - Portia wants to go Trick or Treating alone, but Mrs Otter always goes with her so she doesn't lose her again, especially during the nighttime

Lesser and Chief pull shitty pranks on people, egg and/or TP Toad Hall, and take 2-3 candies from the take one bowl

Lesser somehow accidentally eggs and/or TPs Chief

Sheryl accidentally makes a kid cry

A kid in a somewhat scary costume accidentally makes Lesser cry

Lesser hates Halloween but pretends not to be scared because the Wild Wooders would tease him forever (they all already know- he isn't good at hiding it)

Also, Toad, Mole, and Ratty would go to a haunted house

Toad would get scared and scream "RATTY, HOLD ME"

Toad would scream and them Mole would scream and then Toad would scream louder

At the end Toad would act like he wasn't scared

"You should have seen your faces!"

"You literally said, and I quote, 'RATTY, HOLD ME'"

". . . That was one of the ghosts possessing me!"

And then they arrive back to Badger's place and it's like "Why are Mole and Toad shaking?"

Mole doesn't hide his fear but Toad does and is doing it horribly

Mole finds out Lesser hates Halloween and they spend some time watching Corpse Bride or The Nightmare Before Christmas

The guy with the car sets out the "take one" bowls

And watches in misery as people take more than one

The hedgehogs wear family costumes

im writing witw fanfiction

This is the raffle winner of a copy of The Biker Book for Charity at the Witw Honey Badgers event!

LOVE seeing this!!!

For your next raffle, grab a copy of The Biker Book for Charity—inspired and written by the women and men of the motorcycle community.

💯 proceeds donated to children’s hospitals.

www.thebikerbookforcharity.com

❤️❤️❤️

#motorcycle #charity #charityevent #fundraiser

#motorcycles #aprilia #bmwmotorrad #ducati #harleydavidson #hondamotorcycles #indianmotorcycle #kawasaki #suzuki #yamaha

#thebikerbookforcharity

while i’m toad posting, might as well post this old art i drew based on an actual dream i had: toad uses his time machine (yes he has one) and traveled into the modern day. along the way, he found out what memes are and he went back to the 19th century to tell his friends how pickle rick was the funniest shit he has ever seen while laughing uncontrollably. of course, his friends is just beyond confused 

studies of wind in the willows illustrations by e.h. shepard :)

before I go into my writing hidey hole to write witw fic I'd just like to remind everyone of the bows of the 2017 witw show

and how Toad was going to do a speech before Chief just took over like "nah, my song now"

and notice Badger being the first to join in too

and notice how the field mice were having an absolute blast, the time of their lives

oh and also Mr Hedgehog dabbing in the background

and Toad's confusion at this like it hasn't already been completely planned

and the conductor wanting to get payed to stop and turn the page over

✨iconic✨

average lgbt friend group