#rainbow afghans

[grandmacottage]

Pastel Afghan from WolfgangVintageWares

[artgirldavis]

Cathedral rose window Afghan in rainbow colors to compliment my stained glass window Afghan in the same color scheme.

I started this Afghan right after Christmas and worked on it off and on for 3 months before completion.

[sunsorbit]

two more squares for the blanket! :) both of them (mostly) done with 100% pima cotton yarn by Lana Grossa, and a 3.5mm hook. more on patterns and yarn under the read more!

i have not mentioned this before, but all the patterns i have used so far for this blanket are 100% free on either ravelry or youtube!

square 1: this is Abagail by Diana Krenz. I skipped the last few rows for the square border and again added the splendid serendipity border, once i had a semi matching stitch count (technically i need 39 when i do the v-stitches, but i can also make do with 38, 40 or 41). i made this whole thing in a day, the petals are so easy to crochet!

yarn is Lana Grossa Cotonella, in color 003 for the inner part of the square, and color 002 for the outer border. I had both of these left over from the other squares i had done before and i thought they worked nicely together:) the inner little circle is a bit wonky because i didn’t cut the yarn so you can see the little chain i made to the next round, but it doesn’t really bother me.

square 2: Imagine by Polly Plum. I skipped one or two of the last few rounds for squaring up, and as with all the other squares, gave it that gorgeous shell bobble border!

The inner square is the same color as for square 1 (Lana Grossa Cotonella 003), just the other way around! the border was done with Drops Loves You 7 color 03 (beige) and color 08 (vanilla), and some left over Lana Grossa Cotonella color 009.

[instantfrost]

80 squares down, 20 to go. This really will be a tiny “blanket”. Maybe one of my dolls can have it or I can use it for weird picture backgrounds.

[wldflwrwmn]

snuggle puppies!

[topknotstrunk]

Just a lil glamor shot of an afghan I made a long time ago.

[bethanyactually]

Here's that crocheted hue shift afghan that was being a pain in the butt last year, finally complete. The cats inspected it and approved, so I sent it off to my friend and she loved it. And even though I had to redo three sections before I was done, I'm very happy with how it turned out! 🌈💛

[Image Description:

Three photos of a rainbow-colored crocheted Hue Shift blanket with a thick black border, laid out neatly on a hardwood floor. In the first photo, a gray tuxedo cat is standing on the blanket, reaching out with her front paws to stretch. In the third photo, a larger gray tuxedo cat has joined the first, and they're both standing, one looking up at the camera while the other looks off to the side.

end ID.]

[purplbear]

Yesterday I realized I purchased the wrong weight red yarn for my rainbow hex afghan and so can’t continue with my next section.

Oh no!

Guess I must cast on the next sweater!

Darn.

What misfortune.

(Cackle cackle sparkling with glee and unicorn dust happiness!!!!)

[whatgaviiformes]

Fic: Grannies - Part 4 (Finale)

Summary: Gordon's committed to the bit. The bit just happens to be an obnoxious amount of granny squares.

A/N- In the finale: warning for a bit of whump. Whole lotta love though. Words for this part come to 2K.

Part 1 here | Part 2 here | Part 3 here | AO3

Thank yous: craftyfam, patient readers, my yarn stash for inspiration, Kat for the read through and assuring me this was post ready. FFXIV I can't thank you because you are a menace and a distraction no matter how much I love you.

*****

Part 4: Finale

Because Gordon never goes half-assed into anything, Virgil is still finding granny squares. 

He has to keep reminding himself that he appreciates Gordon’s dedication. He actually relies on this part of his brother’s character. Frequently, in fact. 

But as he pries a stray granny square out of his sock drawer and tosses it into the project basket housing its companions, Virgil has to roll his eyes. Fondly of course. In the project management world, they call this scope creep - with no real end in sight, the project keeps getting bigger and more involved, and it’s all too easy for it to just keep living on indefinitely. But then, Gordon is one big Scope Creep anyway since he was never one for boundaries in the first place. 

His definition of an appropriate time to stop was very different from Virgil’s. 

At this point, the new square isn’t anything Virgil hasn’t seen before. He knows by now what to expect from Gordon’s work. And, honestly, it’s just like Gordon to somehow manage to desensitize Virgil away from everything he knows about color theory, however briefly. So, neither the presence of the piece of fabric nor the color combination provides any shock value anymore. 

What it does do is remind him that he’s got his own project balancing to do. That of actually… you know… finishing the damn thing. And figuring out what to do with the rest of the squares, he reminds himself as he slides on his socks and laces up his boots for the day. 

The newest acquisition - two rounds of golden yellow followed by two rounds of aubergine purple and a final in white - doesn’t look as visually discordant alongside its peers, the scrambled rainbow they are.  They are all the ones that didn’t make the cut for Gordon’s afghan, the  squares Virgil keeps finding anew, and inevitably the future ones Gordon will continue to make until he receives another lightning strike of an idea.

Right beside it is a second project basket. Gordon likes a big blanket, so enough squares to fit a king sized bed are already packed up and labeled in their sequential order. As he’s had time, Virgil has started sewing them together based on the design Scott helped with. There’s enough space still for him to store the bolt of fabric John helped him find too, once it finally arrives. 

Virgil’s grateful for their help, and their part in the project has made it just that bit more special. He hopes Gordon feels that way too. It took Scott reminding him that it wasn’t his own aesthetic he was trying to please for the design to come together. Otherwise, Virgil has no doubt what he would’ve designed would’ve been lesser for his own misery trying to force order into chaos. 

Somehow, with the power of math, Scott’s perspective on patterns and probability and randomization had been just the ticket. Gordon also probably hadn’t realized just how many squares he’d made that started with the shade of yellow or orange or his typical bright shades. Just that little bit of consistency was all he and Scott needed to figure the rest out as they laid out the squares. It wasn’t a pattern, a fade, or even entirely randomized. But a couple edits later, they had the final layout, the squares numbered, and Virgil had gotten to work joining his own granny stitches into his brother’s work in the only color Gordon considered “neutral” - yellow. 

Unable to resist the smile it brings, Virgil tugs the blanket out of the basket and unfolds the two rows he’s finished, with the third halfway complete. It doesn’t bother him that his connecting yarn is still live - the hook has his last loop stabbed into the working skein, and even if it does come unraveled a little, crochet is not so difficult to start again. 

It had taken a few tries to find the right hook to help him match Gordon’s stitches. Even though Virgil taught him a few years ago, no two makers’ work was exactly alike. And Gordon was as carefree with his gauge as he was in the rest of his life. 

Excitement thrums through him; it’s morning, the birds are chirping, and he’s feeling motivated and productive. The crochet work is soft in his hands, the next square in the sequence visible in the project basket below but hiding the rest of the queue for the third row. It’s the perfect day to grab some coffee, hide away in his studio for a few hours, and let the project surprise him. 

That’s the way a WIP should work: it should inspire along the way. 

Virgil has just thrown a towel over the basket to make it seem like it could be laundry - just in case he runs into a wayward squid - when the alarm in his room sounds and John’s voice comes over comms. 

They have a rescue. 

~*~

Virgil awakes to the smell of antiseptic and the uncomfortable feeling that his mouth tastes like cotton. 

Something about that makes him want to giggle, except he can’t actually do that. 

“Easy, Virg.” Hands, soothing, graze his hairline. “They’ve got you on the good stuff.”

He can tell. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet to know if he’s in a hospital or the infirmary, nor does he know what happened to land him there.

Based on the cotton in his throat and in his head and in his lungs, maybe he ate Gordon’s blanket. 

The giggle turns into a groan. 

“You’re okay now. Rest, Virgil.” 

Since the voice is Scott, he does so.

~*~

The next time he remembers waking, he’s in the infirmary on the island. Again, this he knows not because he’s opened his eyes to figure it out, but because his senses tell him so. Only one brother knows sea shanties enough to be familiar with that one and, if Gordon is here humming it, they’re both definitely not in a hospital.

The words he wants to say trudge through the molasses on their way out.

“Wha’ happ’n?” 

“Virgil!” It’s surprise, and excitement, and relief all rolled into one, but Gordon has the good sense to keep his voice low once the original shock of him waking settles.  

Gordon knows the drill well, his voice barely above a whisper as he closes the blinds and scoops some ice chips into a cup. Virgil’s grateful for the gentle way he moves about the room; he can hear him shuffling around, dictating as he goes. By the time Gordon returns with the cup of blessed relief for the feeling in his esophagus, Virgil has managed to tearily blink his eyes half-open. 

Beneath his brother’s brushed fringe hides a bruise the size of a fist, purpling so harshly at his hairline that Virgil ignores the ice chip Gordon offers him in favor of reaching up to check the injury out for himself. Immediately, his body protests the movement, and Gordon urges him to lower his arm back to the support of the bed.

“Yeah, maybe don’t try that?” Gordon waves him off. “I’m fine. What do you remember?” 

Through the pain in his lower half and the color of Gordon’s face, the memories of the rescue come back clearer. Unfortunately, of all things, they’d been called out to a mudslide. He’d checked Gordon out in the field, he remembers. A panicked civilian with a wayward right hook while Gordon was calming his husband. The man had been incredibly apologetic, and Gordon assured him no harm was done, but Virgil pulled him off duty as a concussion risk and left him in Two with  Grandma talking to him.

Then, when Virgil went after a lifesign in a toppling two-story… 

“A house hit me.” 

“Well, more mud than house. You’re ok though. You were buried from the waist up. Had some compartment syndrome. Everything you’re feeling - or not - is temporary.”  

“You came to get me.” Virgil could argue that grounded meant grounded, that Gordon should never’ve gone after him in such dangerous conditions, that he’s the big brother and Gordon’s the little one and he should keep himself safe when he’s told to do so. But there’s a challenge in his little brother’s warm honey eyes already, and he remembers faintly words spoken in worry and fear, assurances that tighten in a coil around his heart.

“I did. There wasn’t anyone else.”  

He owes Gordon everything.

Virgil hums, “Thank you.”

Between the pain medication and water soothing the grittiness in his throat, he feels more aware by the minute and ready to try sitting up for a time. Gordon helps him settle a few pillows into position and raises the head of the infirmary bed to the appropriate level. He’s got to let Scott know he’s awake - and Grandma -  Gordon tells him. Before either of them decide to have scolded Squid for dinner. 

Virgil doesn’t have the energy to chuckle, but it does as he knows Gordon intended: leave him with a smile for the few moments Gordon needs to step away to communicate Virgil’s situation. 

His heart is music, his soul is color. Where sound is oversaturated with the wisps and hums of machinery tracking his vitals, his heartbeat in rhythm, color becomes his touchstone. Outside the window will be the cerulean of the sky and sea. Green, which he thinks in its most basic form because it’s every combination of the hue throughout the robust plant-life of their Island. Dandelion yellow - the sun and safety and Gordon’s baldric. 

Past the shut blinds, it’s all just a sliver. More prominently, there’s just white and infirmary clean grey.  He has to blink away the dullness, as he tears his gaze away from the window and finally musters the strength to glance at himself and especially at his lower half past the pain where Gordon promised his lack of feeling, muted through painkillers, was temporary. 

Color, so much of it that it’s blinding, greets him with the neon of signage amidst the Las Vegas cityscape and the celebration of the New York Pride parade they attend each year. The blanket draped across his lap is authentic Gordon through and through, in familiar squares assembled in a chaos true to their variety. No rhyme, no reason. 

So much care. 

“Grandma will be in shortly.” Gordon plops into the chair at his side, wiggling in the armchair to reacquire the work he’d placed on the seat cushion. He catches him looking, wide-eyed. “It’s not your project, promise. Though I did bring it in for you to work on when you’re feeling better. It’s over by the holoscreen whenever you want me to bring it over. You’ll be here for a bit healing, so I figured…” He shrugs, trailing off. 

“Gordon?” He slides his fingers between the stitches and curls them gratefully into soft, comforting colors. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m - uh -” Gordon flushes in dim light. “I’m weaving in my ends finally,” he admits, holding up the darning needle. “Sorry if you had another idea for the squares, but once I finished putting yours together, I realized we had enough still to donate some more blankets and those really should be finished.” Gordon weaves a red tail end back and forth between the strands the way Virgil taught him, and the way their mom taught Virgil. “I really did go a little overboard on granny squares didn’t I? I just figured it would be okay for me to help you along. So you could finish what you were working on. Was that ok?”

“More than.” 

It also tells him a significant amount about how serious his injuries were and how long he might have been out of commission, if Gordon’s found the time to finish as much as he has. The concern for what he’s put his family through spikes his heartbeat again, and his younger brother glances up to check on him, the monitors, back at him.

Virgil gives him a weary smile, tugging the blanket further up his chest. “I’m ok,” he assures him. “Thanks to you.” 

“Don’t do it again,” he admonishes, shaking his head.

Neither of them can promise the other, not in their line of work, and they both know it. 

The words go unspoken, but they are woven delicately in the strands of their gifts to each other. Virgil feels the care against his skin, in colors that chase away greys, and soft cotton that sifts fear and worry out through openwork patterning. And when Grandma finally makes her way in to check in on him, his heart is so full with the chance he’s been given, the support he’s always had by the people he cares for, that the love hits him with a wave of exhaustion. 

Into sleep he falls, deeply into dreamless rest by the time Grandma finishes her checks and  Gordon tucks him in with a thankful salute to the stars above.

The End

[fred-erick-frankenstein]

[ID 1-2: two photos of a chrotcheted blanket. It's black with smaller squares in it which look like stained glass windows in blue, green, orange, yellow, red and purple. The border of the blanket is gradient in the same colors. The second photo is a close-up on some of the squares/windows. /end ID].

Stained glass window Afghan with the border is now finished!

Edit: the response to this blanket has been phenomenal. To answer a few questions….. no this Afghan is not knitted it is crochet. This Afghan is not granny squares but rather done first in circles with a square border. The black lines ore crocheted in during each round and are not seen back in later.

The pattern I modified to do this blanket is here

[instantfrost]

All 100 squares are done. Here are some notes in case I’m ever idiot enough to think I want to do this again:

1. This is small; 37” before the border. Future me, it’s too much time and effort to be that freaking small!

2. The answer is probably a different yarn weight. I truly did exhaust all the skeins that came in the kit.

3. I think people who try this pattern should make up their own color scheme.

4. Refrain from doing more squares than your hands tell you to do. I am in misery right now.

[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

List of bad luck signs

Breaking a mirror is said to bring seven years of bad luck

Spilling salt

A bird or flock of birds going from left to right

Certain numbers:

The number 4. Fear of the number 4 is known as tetraphobia; in Chinese, Japanese, and Korean languages, the number sounds like the word for "death".

The number 9. Fear of the number 9 is known as enneaphobia, in Japanese culture; this is because it sounds like the Japanese word for "suffering".

The number 13.

The number 17, it is prominent in Italian culture.

The number 39. Fear of the number 39 is known as the curse of 39, especially in Afghan culture.

The number 43. In Japanese culture, maternity wards numbered 43 are considered taboo, as the word for the number means "still birth".

The number 666. Fear of the number 666. Per Biblical prophesy, the "Number of "The Beast", is an evil takeover of humanity worldwide. Also called the "Mark of the Beast", wherein all humans will have it on their forehead or hand.

Friday the 13th (in Spain, Greece, and Georgia: Tuesday the 13th)

Failing to respond to a chain letter

Giving a clock as a gift in Chinese culture, as in Chinese, to give a clock (Chinese: 送鐘/送钟; pinyin: sòng zhōng) has the same pronunciation as "sending off for one's end"

Hanging a horseshoe with the ends pointing down, as it is believed that the luck will 'fall out'

Opening an umbrella while indoors

On the Isle of Man, rats are referred to as "longtails" as saying "rat" is considered bad luck

Navajo culture:

pointing at a rainbow

throwing rocks into the wind

a coyote crossing one's path heading north

an owl flying over a house.

Placing chopsticks straight up in a bowl of rice in Chinese and Japanese culture is reminiscent of food offerings left for the dead.

Ravens, crows and magpies

Saying the word "Macbeth" or wishing someone "Good Luck" while inside a theatre. The substitutions "The Scottish Play" and "Break a leg" are used instead.

Shoes on a table

Placing a hat on a bed 

Three on a match

Viewing one's doppelgänger may be considered a harbinger of bad luck

Killing a ladybug

Walking under a ladder

Black cat crossing one's path

Picking up a penny with the tails side up 

Seeing a lone magpie (one for sorrow)

Having 13 people sit at a table (the first one to stand will be the first to die)

Crossing on the stairs

It is considered as ill-omen that a rabbit may pass in front of a car

Nails cannot be cut at night

Whistling at night, for the person who whistles is said that they are calling the Devil

A bird’s knocking on the window with its beak is the sign of news to be received.

A person who sees a girl child in his/her dream receives bad news.

[wldflwrwmn]

[pentacentric]

happy wincest wednesday! what is something the boys would do for each when the other isn't looking or paying attention just to be nice?

so, dean does stuff for sam that's somehow both oddly thoughtful and mildly annoying at the same time. little things that he thinks sam may never notice, but that he could play off as a joke or prank if sam does catch on eventually (and totally not as him being nice or sweet or whatever)

like when sam's hair products are running low, dean will buy more without telling sam. but he'll use it refill the original bottle instead of swapping them out. he won't fill it all the way—too obvious, of course—but somewhere between a half and two-thirds (and because he's dean, he'll just dump the rest down the drain). but if sam does ever notice, dean'll laugh and make fun of him for never questioning that he had a magic never-ending bottle of conditioner or some shit like that (and then secretly sulk that he can't be the one to take care of sam's hair anymore)

he's also slowly replaced all of sam's bedding in the bunker. nicer stuff that looks nearly the same but with higher thread count, natural fibers, softer pillows. but one piece at a time, over months. if sam ever got suspicious that his bed is somehow getting more comfortable and that he's sleeping better even though he hasn't changed his routine, dean'd stealthily swap everything out one night after sam's fallen asleep in dean's bed. with like old rainbow brite sheets and a waifu pillow (because dean) and a hideously-colored, scratchy old afghan

sam's are similarly thoughtful, but they're more little things in the background that just come across as a bit of good luck or as their everyday lives running smoothly. and it's stuff that dean doesn't think sam knows how to do, or that he doesn't think sam knows he likes. that way he'll never expect (or suspect) anything at all. sam doesn't want him to ever find out because he's sure dean would get all weird and flustered and self-conscious about it and insist sam stop acting like a teenage girl with a crush and quit trying to coddle him or some shit like that (he knows dean well)

like sam'll mend dean's favorite jeans with tiny, neat, invisible stitches before he even notices the rip (i mean, dean's not the one looking at his own thighs constantly). he makes sure there's always a couple of beat-up quarters stashed in that one hard-to-unzip pocket of dean's duffel bag on the off chance there's a magic fingers bed at their motel (don't get me wrong, he'll still make fun of dean for using it even though he's the one secretly enabling him). he changes the cabin air filter in the car every 15k miles like clockwork (because dean thinks it's a waste of time and money and anyways allergies are kid's stuff, his all went away by the time he hit 30). he'll buy old secondhand paperbacks and plant them like a previous guest left them behind in their motel room (books he thinks dean would really like but never buy for himself, like watership down or the dragonriders of pern)

it's possible both of them actually know what they other one is doing, but they'd never admit it so we'll never know

[crmsnmth]

Reasons and Excuses

I didn't do it for the high I didn't do it for the smooth euphoria that came in shades of Afghan brown, China white, and old black tar The light spectrum of syringes and bent spoons Cotton ball bones and skin deep archaeology

I didn't do it for fun The parties are all over when you find yourself passing out locking 24/7 drugstore's bathroom stalls I don't think anyone saw me duck in here There's no fun when your veins get harder and harder to hurt Collapsing under the constant pressure of the points Bruises that look sickly in purple and yellows dancing around the scabs that are my inner arms

I did it because I am a coward A coward who never matured enough to handle emotions with any poise or grace My emotions came out wrapped in binding chains, keep them bolted to the boards I am nothing but just a child, learning the difference in the things i feel. Is this anger? Is this frustration? Maybe it's fear? Most likely, it's just sadness. I have not learned how to react properly And I'll have learned from all this is simple Don't trust anyone ever again All I know now is how to run

Run. Run straight into the sharp embraces of drug dealers, patched bikers and groups shouting from their porches The give sales pitches on people who don't need it If you just said your holding I'd still come to the stoop It's all I need

I don't want to feel like this, or like anything at all And so I take it away, in the only way that I can deal with Covering it with lies I tell you and that I believe myself Lying here in the gutter still rushing from rain And the rain can't make me feel any colder It's been a while since I've had a hit I fall into a dreamless and fitful sleep I can do it anywhere with garbage in the streets

I do this because I'm afraid I'll fail again if I try Sometimes the idea of getting so high, that death comes waltzing, and he always seems so tempting but I guess it just hasn't been my time to go I keep coming back from the dead now Is this how I'll die though? Choking on my own vomit behind a dumspter in filthy, wet and dark alley? It's not much, but it would be the only honest thing I've ever done And you'll finally get the answer if I've been faking it all this time I'll nod your way

Nobody can be fake at the end of the journey our last moments define who we are Honesty comes in the skeletal hands of scythe wielding skeletons And in this shot, that I know is hot, I spit out the only words I know were real

I love you I love you and I can't handle life without your absence Not anymore I don't know how to fill the holes you left within me I stuff them with balloons, powders, dollar bills rolled tight sandwich bags, green plants, needle bombs light bulbs all charred black An entire rainbow of pills and tablets and gel-caps It's the only way I stop hearing your earlier words inside this shattered and broken brain Just fractures of my pink matter

I don't do this for the high I do this because it takes away my ability to think and I can stop thinking about you for an hour or so

I give up. Keep it in my arm for the whole world to see I was a slave right up to the very end.

[eminsunnytoons123]

Since i have now made Camilla, afghan hound And baskerville hound's redesigns, I Said that i'll now post my headcanons for the muppets! =^///^=

And for the sake of enjoyment And creativity, i'll risk it for all my besties/Brothers And Sisters/pen pals And for some more muppet fans =^_^=

And also im still thinking about more headcanons for them, just give me time to think ^///^; And i'll post the part two either tommorow or later! =^v^=

Lets start!

Kermit the frog:

• he is 22 years old in my AU, but he acts very mature for his age

• he is pansexual And polyamourous, he is dating miss piggy And fozzie

• he likes little jingle Bells, so thats why he has some on his Boots

• Uses prounouns he/him, but some muppets call Kermit an "it", mostly Constantine

• his parents AND over 3000 siblings have been seen in some episodes, but some of his siblings dont have lines

• he plays his banjo on the top of the boarding home And sings the rainbow connection song

• he still has his iconic And polite personalities, but he sometimes gets annoyed when some insults him, but not always

• he sometimes accidentaly calls Clifford a "she", but Clifford actually doesnt mind nor does he care about any prounouns that the muppets call him

Fozzie bear:

• he is 24 years old in my AU, but he still acts goofy And silly like always

• he is queer, pansexual And polyamourous, And he is dating Kermit And miss piggy

• he doesnt only use Rubber chickens, he even uses any circus-related stuff

• he uses his water flower to spray others as a prank, oh! And he LOVES april fools Day

• he secretly likes hello Kitty and any silly cartoons, And he has an hello Kitty pin on his hat

• his jokes can SOMETIMES be funny, but theyre most of the time horrible And bad, And others always groan, roll their eyes And get annoyed by fozzie

• he likes anything thats colorful And that has rainbow colors in it

Miss Piggy:

• she is 23 years old, but he acts just the same And mature like on the muppets

• she is bisexual And polyamourous, And she is dating Kermit And fozzie

• she LOVES the 70s, 80s And even 90s women Fashion, especially if they have Pink shaded colors in it

• she has her pet Foo-Foo the dog, but she even has Gloria estefan as her pet

• she likes any bracelets And necklaces that have pearls on them, but even any kind of Crystals on them

• she is french-british in the Group, but she mostly says "moi" like always And speaks some french words in her sentences

• she practices karate, And she always tests it on one of the muppets in the boarding home, except for the children/kids

Gonzo the great:

• he is 22 years old in my AU

• he is pansexual And non-binary, And they is dating Camilla the chicken

• gonzo uses any prounouns, but most of the muppets call him by "he/him/his" but gaffer the pirate Cat calls him an "it" And by "they/them"

• they likes doing their nails, he has his nails colored in a non binary colors flag

• he even does acrobatic tricks, not only anything thats dangerous, even sometimes Circus tricks

• gonzo has an tail, with an blue fluff on the end of it, just like how Clifford now has an tail

• he isnt only interested in girl chickens, but sometimes roosters (not in an zoophilic way.)

Rowlf the dog:

• he is 29 years old in my AU

• he is bisexual, And he is dating selena the brunette haired whatnot, who is a straight Lady but she supports rowlf being bisexual

• he sometimes gives Texas vibes to other muppets

• baskerville And Afghan hounds are his most close friends in the boarding home, but he gets annoyed by baskerville And his singing

• he is pretty much interested in any classical music that have piano music in it, like Mozart

• rowlf can sometimes be pretty sarcastic in the Group, like for example when someone tells him something exciting, he says: "okay, And?" And he Chuckles, but doesnt mean it in a rude way

Pepe the King prawn:

• he is 21 years old in my AU

• he is pansexual, genderfluid and polyamourous, And he is dating Rizzo And yolanda

• he has an childhood toy named topo sticky, even tho topo sticky COULD sometimes talk in the muppets, on TMS:LITBH he doesnt talk nor move. And Pepe sometimes gets embarassed when some of the muppets see him with his childhood toy topo sticky

• his actual name is Pepino Rodrigo Serrano Gonzales, because he had two mamas And one Papa (IN MY AU.), but some of the muppets found it hard to remember his real name, so Pepe just told them to call him "Pepe". But some of the muppets call him by his real name, like Mildred huxetetter And some other pretty much older And mature muppets in the boarding home

• he likes doing ballet, but not wearing male clothes for the ballet, only female clothes for the ballets like what ballerinas wear

• he sometimes does his acts with Seymour, but not only that, he even hangs out with him

• Pepe has an short wavy red hair unlike an spiky hair

Rizzo the rat:

• he is 21 years old in my AU

• he is bisexual And polyamourous, he is dating Pepe And yolanda

• he has an colorful hair with neon rainbow colors, but his actual hair color is either Dark Brown or blonde

• they has an patch on his tail because he Got Hurt when he was Younger, he was probably bitten by a cat And he even Got stitches because that Cat nearly ate off his tail, but only the top of it

• he is even a demiboy, And he uses he/they prounouns

• he infact does have hair in here, And before in the muppets his hair was NEVER shown

• he sometimes Chuckles And laughs at pepe's ballet, but he still loves him

Yolanda the rat:

• she is 21 years old in my AU

• she is bisexual And polyamourous, And she is dating Rizzo And pepe

• she has an puffy And more longer blonde-yellow hair unlike in her original version

• she is an perfectionist for makeup And Fashion, just like miss piggy

• she had an EX-boyfriend named William the rat, but then he wasnt Hanging out with her And he secretly had another girlfriend And he was clearly cheating on yolanda. It is pretty Unknown what happend to him, but here is an picture of William on yolanda's door of her room And it has an knife on it. And in the first episode of TMS:LITBH, she told Pepe And Rizzo this (read the scenario):

Pepe: "I dont know if deadly's asleep, okay?"

Rizzo: "how do you not know if deadly's asleep!?"

Pepe: "I dunno."

Yolanda: "you two are stupider than my EX boyfriend."

Rizzo: "wait! You have an EX?"

Yolanda: "well... I had him, I had that idiot named William. Now he is in his grave."

• so yolanda probably either joked about that William's in his grave, or she either really killed him, And its based on this comic I made on second of november 2023

• she loves colorful bracelets, And she has three of them on her tail, And one on her wrist

• she likes baking muffins, cookies And small cakes

• she likes doing hairstyles, makeup, putting dresses on and any iconic And fashionable clothes, And she likes reading magazines And being with Rizzo And pepe

• she is british-american

Dr bunsen honeydew:

• he is 27 years old in my AU

• he is pansexual, And he is dating beaker

• he likes any weird And strange science And Experiments, just like the ones he makes

• bunsen actually does have eyes, And he sometimes Opens them but as if he is squinting his eyes

• he always wears safety glasses whenever he is doing one of his Experiments

• bunsen sometimes tests his new Experiments on beaker, but beaker doesnt get hurt or anything

Beaker:

• he is 28 years old in my AU

• he is bisexual And he is dating dr bunsen honeydew

• he sometimes gets nervous And scared when bunsen wants to try his Experiments on beaker, but he doesnt get Hurt nor does anything bad happen to him

• he sometimes even says: "beep!" Or "boop!" And sometimes even "hello!" And "bye-bye!"

• he likes gently petting small Animals, like kittens, bunnies, parrots... Etc

• he doesnt now wear an Scientist suit on TMS:LITBH

Thats now all my headcanons for the first two parts! I'll make the other parts tommorow =^_^=