#The Wolf of Wharf Street

[tinarannosaurus]

[laz-kay]

“You guys can breathe in there, right? I don’t want to be the mom who suffocated her kids in a giant snail” 🎃🍫👻

The Belcher kids and their Halloween costumes 2012-2022

[yahoo201027]

What's Your Favorite Halloween Episode of Bob’s Burgers?

Since there's no Halloween episodes and we got the ten episodes and the Tumblr poll can only go up to 10 choices, might as well do a poll with the past ten Bob’s Burgers Halloween episodes ranging from Seasons 3-13. What's your fave? Make a pick!

[crazyracoonpeople]

FELIX'S LITTLE "YAAAAY!!" AT THE END IS SO CUTE 😭😭😭😭❤️❤️

i love the fischoeder siblings so much theyre like children 🥹🥹

[unclefathersantateddy]

"Get ready for your favourite fruity boy!"

For a child that is rarely paying attention Gene Belcher is remarkably self aware.

[ordinaryschmuck]

Bob's Burgers Halloween specials ranked

(Because screw it, why not?)

11. Tina and the Real Ghost--This one's more awkward than funny. I honestly feel bad for Tina for falling in love with an empty box...and grow to hate Tammy for being so petty to steal the box away from her. Even the B-Plot of ghost hunters in the restaurant isn't all that funny. Honestly, the funniest bit is when Bob's unexpectedly swarmed with bugs after a brief moment of cockiness. Other than that, pretty weak episode.

10. The Wolf of Wharf Street--PROBABLY the most irresponsible Linda's been with the kids and Bob believing Teddy's a werewolf was a bit of a stretch. Still, some spooky atmosphere carries this one a bit, so I can't hate it THAT much.

9. Apple Gore-chard! (But Not Gory)--There need to be more episodes with Louise and Jessica. Their friendship is easy and cute in a lot of moments. Anyways, as for the episode, it's pretty standard. Some REAL Halloween stuff doesn't happen until half way through and the jokes aren't all that funny. There's barely any attention on the lesson, making it feel more like a waste of time if anything else. It's just Louise and Jessica's friendship that carries things if anything else (Seriously, MORE of that)

8. Pig Trouble in Little Tina--A great episode about peer pressure and with a fun subplot about Bob's gross ear wax. It's just that none of it screams HALLOWEEN to me. There's some spooky imagery, but a lot of this episode feels like something that could happen in ANY episode, especially Bob's subplot. Great episode, but not so great of a Halloween special.

7. Heartbreak Hotel-oween--This one's cute. That's all I can say.

6. Teen-a Witch--Tina trying to be a witch is more cute than it should be, even if the jokes aren't strong with this one. Thankfully the subplot of Bob obsessing over who's stealing his jack-o-lanterns is funny enough to carry it.

5. The Pumpkinening--Weird title, but it's an episode with Gayle. They're naturally weird, and this one's no exception as Linda and Gayle hunting down who knows that they smashed pumpkins from a contest. Add that with a warm ending and a great subplot of Bob dealing with the stress of being a house with GOOD candy, and you got something fun.

4. Nightmare on Ocean Avenue Street--The kids hunting down a candy kidnapper is fun and Bob and Teddy trying to show up an impressive handyman has some good laughs to it. Solid special.

3. Full Bars--It's always fun seeing the Belcher kids use their brand of chaos to do something good. The only thing that drags it down is the guinea pig murder mystery. Some good jokes are there, but I can't help but cringe as Teddy ruins his own party and the payoff isn't all that funny. That credit scene where Bob danced in the fat suit for Linda was cute as shit, though.

2. Fort Night--The introduction to Millie, and a great one at that as she tortures the kids who are in a situation that's...way more dangerous than you think in hindsight. They really were that close to death, huh? Still, a pretty empathetic episode as we all know there's no worse fate for a kid than missing Halloween and you REALLY want them to get out. And I'm sure some parents can relate to Bob and Linda's plight to make a costume for their kids and the payoff for this one is pretty good.

1. The Hauntening--A genuinely creepy and intense special for this show, where the jokes don't take away from the scares but add to them. This really feels like how these characters would react to a horrifying situation, making you fear for their lives even more. And even the big twist in the end doesn't ruin the episode, but adds to it, showing how much this family cares for each other and how much they'll do to make one of them happy. They might have gone a LITTLE far, but it's in that gray area where you can accept it. Being sweet and spooky is no other combination you can get from any other show except for this one, and I love it.

And that's all. Well, for now. Season 14 hasn't had its Halloween special yet. It's probably pulling a Simpsons and waiting until November for some reason. And I'm not waiting until then. This is the Halloween Special on MY blog, so there. Happy Halloween.

[babsvibes]

I used my episode ranking spreadsheet to figure out which episodes of Bob’s Burgers were my favorite by season, and here are the results! Favorite episodes are bolded but you knooow those could change day to day 😪

My favorites are not objectively the best, so I’d love if other people wanted to share their lists or (if they took on the absolutely ridiculous task of individually ranking each episode) share their spreadsheet!

Season 1: Crawl Space, Sexy Dance Fighting, Sheesh! Cab Bob, Art Crawl, Spaghetti Western and Meatballs

Season 2: The Belchies, Bob Day Afternoon, Burgerboss, Food Truckin’, Bad Tina

Season 3: Ear-sy Rider, Full Bars, Bob Fires the Kids, Mother Daughter Laser Razor, Topsy

Season 4: Seaplane!, Bob and Deliver, The Kids Run Away, Wharf Horse, Wonder Wharf II

Season 5: Dawn of the Peck, Best Burger, Midday Run, Late Afternoon in the Garden of Bob and Louise, The Oeder Games

Season 6: The Land Ship, The Hauntening, Sexy Dance Healing, Stand by Gene, Glued Where’s My Bob?

Season 7: Flu-ouise, Ex Mach Tina, Eggs For Days, The Laserinth, Thelma and Louise Except Thelma is Linda

Season 8: The Wolf of Wharf Street, Sit Me Baby One More Time, Thanks-hoarding, V for Valentine-detta, Mission Imposs-slug-ble

Season 9: The Taking of Funtime 1 2 3, Better Off Sled, The Fresh Princ-ipal, Roamin’ Bob-iday, The Gene Mile

Season 10: Now We’re Not Cooking With Gas, Three Girls and a Little Wharfy, The Handyman Can, Poops I Didn’t Do It Again, Prank You For Being A Friend

Season 11: Diarrhea of a Poopy Kid, Romancing the Beef, Fingers-loose, Bridge Over Troubled Rudy, Die Card or Card Trying

Season 12: Manic Pixie Crap Show, Ancient Misbehavin’, Clear and Present Ginger, Eighth Grade Runner, Judge-bot Day

Season 13: To Bob or Not to Bob, What About Job?, Comet-y of Errors, So You Stink You Can Dance, Apple Gore-chard*

Season 14: The Pickleorette*

*I stopped keeping up with new episodes after The Plight Before Christmas, so this is an incomplete data set

[golden--doodler]

I think my biggest "this has absolutely no basis in canon" headcanon is that Teddy is Trans and his "Sexy Nurse" costume in The Wolf of Wharf Street was just him not wearing a binder 😭. Maybe I was just thinking about this because I just rewatched this episode last night.

I like to think that he still has stubble and a deeper voice because he takes testosterone, but he hasn't gotten surgery 'cause surgery scares the poor guy.

[stealsh0e]

More old doodles from last year that I didn't want to crowd the other post with 😈

The Fischoeder Family!!! Around the time period where Calvin first adopted/picked up Phinneas like a wet dog by the scruff of the collar and said 'you're coming home with me funny rat boy-thing'. Felix and Phinneas did not get along much at first- and Calvin definitely struggled being a parental figure. But I imagine things begin to settle lmao.

Felix wasn't very openly affectionate to Phinneas, if anything they'd have so much beef (grown man versus literal 9 year old). But they have their very small moments, like where Felix took a nap and Phinneas wanted someone to cuddle because he was also getting sleepy, leading to Felix having a nightmare that he was being drooled on by a dog. I also imagine since Phinneas just lived hidden on the pier for a while, he's got very quiet footsteps. He definitely would just appear out of nowhere- definitely in close proximity to Calvin since he had some separation anxiety.

You can't really tell, but in the bottom left of the first image it's Grover helping Phinneas with maths.

And some stunning prime era Murphy the Black Cat drawings for you HHRUGRH they used to be an absolute menace in their youth PLEASEE JUST ONE CHANCE JUST ONCE CHANCE!!!!! 💥💥💥💥💥💥

And then unfinishedHalloween art stuff for this Fischy Family. Calvin was going to be like "the wolf of wall street", and he was gonna have wolf ears HWHAH, Phinneas is the wonder wharf dog and Felix is just another were wolf guy but I was gonna give him big wolf paws, might look at that episode where they go try to find his wolf.

[spyskrapbook]

“Martin Luther Church”, Hainburg, Austria [2008-2011] _ Architects: Wolf D. Prix / Coop Himmelb(l)au.

“ The building consists of four main elements: a sanctuary, a community hall, a sacristy, and a sculptural bell tower. The shape of the building derives from that of a huge table, with its entire roof construction resting on the legs of the table — four steel columns. The play with light and transparency has a special place in this project. The light comes from above: three large winding openings in the roof guide it to the interior. The church interior itself is not only a place of mysticism and quietude but also an open space for the community. The correlation of the number three and the concept of Trinity in Christian theology can be interpreted as a ​‘deliberate coincidence’. 

The church interior itself is not only a place of mysticism and quietude — as an antithesis of our rather fast and media-dominated times — but also an open space for the community. The sanctuary has direct access to the glass-covered children’s corner, illuminated by daylight, which also accommodates the baptistery. The community hall is situated behind it: folding doors on the entire length of the space between the two main chambers allow for combining them into one continuous spatial sequence. A folded glass facade on the opposite side opens towards the street. 

On the interior ceiling, the suspended frame structure was covered with several layers of steel fabric and rush matting as a carrier layer for the cladding of the stucco ceiling, whose geometry follows the three-dimensionally curved shape of the roof with the skylights. Another key element of the church is the ceiling of the prayer room: its design language has been developed from the shape of the curved roof of a neighboring Romanesque ossuary — the geometry of this centuries — old building is translated into a form in line with the times, via today’s digital tools. The roof structure was delivered in four separate parts to Hainburg, assembled, welded, and coated on site. The whole structure was then mounted with a crane into the designated position, on the solid concrete walls of the prayer room. 

The implementation of the intricate geometries required specific technologies of metal processing and manufacturing only available in the shipbuilding industry. The reference to shipbuilding is at the same time also reminiscent of Le Corbusier who served as an important role model, not least because of his La Tourette monastery. Due to its shape with three skylights, the roof was designed as a self-supporting steel construction with a stucco ceiling. The structure was assembled in a wharf at the Baltic Sea. The exterior skin is made of 8 mm thick three-dimensionally curved steel plates welded on frame construction. In turn, this structure of steel plates and the frame sits on a girder grid. The compound of the grid, frame, and steel skin transfers the total load of the roof (23 tons) on four steel columns which are embedded on the solid concrete walls of the prayer room. The 20-meter high sculptural bell tower in the forecourt is a vertical self-supporting steel structure, that completes the building ensemble and makes it a highly visible landmark.”

https://coop-himmelblau.at/projects/martin-luther-church/

https://arquitecturaviva.com/publicaciones/av/obras-surreales

[tinarannosaurus]

[koko-raccoon]

Going around asking some bb blogs but

Do you got a favorite end credits scene? :3

What a fun question! :D like I REALLY had to sit and think about this haha

My all time favorite without a doubt is Street Life from Eggs for Days! It's fun and perfect and just soooo me core 🔥

Other ones that I go crazy over:

Radio Gaga- Radio No You Didn't

Who's a Fun Mom on Halloween? - The Wolf of Wharf Street

Nun of Your Business - Nightmare on Ocean Avenue Street

Pesto in my Pants - The Fresh Prince-ipal

Regular Fries- Long time Listener First Time Bob

Give it to Teddy - Thanks-Hoarding

Boy Ride - Driving Big Dummy

Where is my Christmas Tree/Twinkling Lights - The Bleakening 1 & 2

Wagstaff You're A School (I Wanna Be Inside Of You) - Wag the Song

Jingle in the Jungle - Christmas in the Car

I'll Be Around - Touch of Eval(utions)

Double Dip- Frigate me Knot

Bourbon - Nice Capades

Watching You From A Distant Place- Ex Mach Tina

Taffy Butt - The Blechies

I might be missing some ??? But I love so many to death 😭 I had to stop myself before this list got out of hand

[yahoo201027]

Day in Fandom History: October 22…

Linda and the Kids decide to ditch trick or treating for tracking down a loose wolf on a foggy Halloween night, as Bob, while injured with a broken leg, hallucinates and begins to believe that Teddy might be an actual werewolf. The sixth Halloween-themed episode of Bob’s Burgers, “The Wolf of Wharf Street”, premiered on this day, 5 Years Ago.

[evanox]

Hello! I love your stories about last legacy, and I take advantage of the fact that the requests are open I want to give one, basically some platonic headcanons of sage and tulsi with a reader who took care of them as children and was like their mother / father figure during their youth, thanks in advance and thanks!

I'M SORRYYYY I'm so sorry this took so long but I loved the req sm I def went a little overboard with it... I hope at least it is worth the wait!! Also big thanks to Zeke again for beta reading and helping brainstorm stuff <33

Also I've written the reader to be a baker bc Sage did mention in ch2 that the street bakers were some of few people who looked upon him and the other kids with a little kindness and I thought it was v sweet

m.list

i.

'Wharf rats,' the people had called them: a group of homeless kids who made a home out of Porrima's docks, and every day they would venture deeper into the city to hunt for food and pickpocket for a living. You've been here long enough to notice when one of them bumps into a shopper, stubby yet nimble little fingers passing over their pockets in search of coin, all while the person remains none the wiser.

You also notice when they swipe a warm loaf of bread or fresh fruit from the stalls lining the shopping district, and you've never tried to stop them when they came for yours. It'd be a shame to throw away what remains of pastries and cake after you close for the night anyway, and while you'd be more than happy to offer the kids the excess yourself, there are one too many stingy customers who complain about having to pay for your goods while the kids get them for free.

Also, it's terribly adorable when a proud, satisfied smile draws over their little faces once they get their hands on a baked treat without getting noticed. You notice though; it's your fun little secret.

This one boy, however, has always seemed particularly ambitious, swiping three or more slices of whatever rather than one or two at a time. You've wondered if you should do something about it, but greed came to kick him in the ass before you could make up your mind. Unlike you, and a few other kind vendors, people do not take too kindly to petty thievery, and a misstep from that little kid leaves him curled on the ground, arms hugging the bruises blooming over his ribs.

He hisses and scratches and bites as you pull him over behind your stall. There's a bucket of water, some bandages, and a salve (meant for burns from the oven, but it's not like you've got much else to work with; this is a bakery not an apothecary), all of which you lay out before him so he knows you only mean well. Slowly his shaking subsides and he pulls the worn out rag hanging off the bucket's rim, dips it in the water, then wipes at his face and cleans out the blood from where the sharp tip of a boot had split his skin open. In the meantime, you rush to a stall that sells fish closer to the docks, and borrow a bucket of ice that you can empty into a cotton bag to press against his bruises.

You half-expect the boy to have already left when you come back, but he's right where you left him, staring wide-eyed at the racks upon racks of fluffy loaves and intricately-carved pastries. That's when you get the idea—you grab a fish-shaped pastry filled with spicy curry (it's always been his favorite, you've noticed) and offer it to the boy. He scowls at your outstretched hand, but you can clearly see the internal battle through his amber eyes. Eventually he succumbs and grabs the pastry, wolfing it down and almost choking twice. Only then does he let you get closer, but his careful gaze never leaves your hands as you place an ice-pack over a particularly nasty bruise.

You offer him another pastry, then another, and then you ask his name. "M'Thage," he manages to say between bites, crumbs flying all over the place. At some point Sage stops eating and looks over the tray of goods you put before him, seemingly guilty, then pockets a few (avoiding all deer-shaped ones) and scurries away. At least he has the decency to yell out a 'thank you!' over his shoulder as he disappears into an alley.

ii.

You think the persistent banging at your door is a customer who missed the very obvious 'CLOSED' sign outside (a far too frequent occurrence ever since you moved business indoors for the winter), but it's Sage, trembling under the weight of a small body draped over his back. Two fluffy, bunny-like ears droop over either side of her head, and snow coats her black, messy hair in a fine layer of white.

"She's sick. I don't—I don't know what to do." This is the first time Sage has spoken to you since that one time you helped him after he got kicked to a pulp in the shopping district. "Please, help her."

Though he pleads for your help, he's still too reluctant to let the little girl go, so you lead him inside where he can lay her over the carpet right by the fireplace. You decide not to say anything about the trail of wet, muddy footprints he leaves on the floors.

You pull your warmest blanket from where it was folded at the top shelf of the closet, along with two towels; one you hand to Sage and the other you dry the little girl's hair with. Her pulse is slow and her fingertips are so cold they could freeze and fall off, but her face radiates heat that rivals that of the hearth.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Sage's eyes are blown wide with fear, and he looks at you like you're the one person in Astraea who can save her. You're no doctor, but in the face of his fragile hope you can't help but smile reassuringly and pat his head. "Don't worry; she'll be alright."

You show Sage how to keep dipping a washcloth in cold water, wring it until it's no longer dripping wet ('and not too dry either,' you have to remind him when he squeezes it with all his might), then place it over her forehead, rinse and repeat—keeping him busy while you mop the muddy footprints off the floor, then prepare dinner for the three of you.

For a while, all is quiet in your house save for the fire crackling in the other room, and the soft scraping of metal against metal as you stir the savory stew bubbling before you. It feels peaceful, even as the howling winds rattle the windows, until Sage's voice rises above the storm and breaks the silence, "Tulsi! Tulsi!"

Rushing to the bedroom—stew long forgotten on the stove—you find the girl has finally woken up, delirious eyes shifting around the room until they focus on her brother, then you. You look to Sage before you carry his sister to your bed, and prop her up against the pillow. Back in the kitchen, you ladle some stew into two bowls, one you hand to Sage and the other you slowly spoon-feed to Tulsi.

With every sip she seems to regain more of her strength, until you can barely fit a spoonful of food into her mouth between all her rambling—about how good the food is, how warm your house is, how lovely your hair is, how rambunctious her brother is, so on and so forth.

So this is to whom all those extra pastries went, you realize absentmindedly.

"Say 'thank you,' Sage!" Tulsi folds her arms, trying to glare at her brother, but it's hard to feel threatened by these sweet oxen-eyes. Still, Sage relents and thanks you with a huff, before frowning at his empty bowl.

"Would you like seconds?"

"Yes!" he answers a little too quickly, and blushes when Tulsi giggles. You refill everyone's bowls, and add a third one for yourself. It isn't long before Sage is frowning again, and you think you know what pulls his eyebrows into such a worried furrow this time, so you try to put his mind at ease—

"You can stay for the night. Maybe the storm will calm tomorrow, then we'll call for a doctor."

"Don't got doctor money," Sage grumbles.

"I do."

He begins to protest, but a glance at a very sleepy Tulsi renders him voiceless even as his lips try to form the words.

"You don't owe me. Not now, not ever."

Slowly, Sage starts to relax, until his little shoulders slump like a heavy burden had fallen off of them.

Later that night, you try to make quick work of cleaning the kitchen until your attention is drawn away by a tug at your apron. You look down to find Sage, and he fixes you with a sharp gaze that looks out of place on such a young face. "I've got to go. You take good care of Tulsi."

It's a little endearing how he reminds you of a mother cat, leaving her kittens with a nice human because she decided she trusts them. However, Sage is but a child himself, and the storm rages on outside with no sign of stopping anytime before sunrise. "In this weather? Where to?"

Before he could answer, Tulsi emerges from the bedroom, wide eyes brimming with tears, "You're leaving?"

"I've got to find Balsam," he tries to sound firm, but it seems any conviction Sage might've had withers before Tulsi's gaze, the latter only looking more frazzled by the second.

"Take me with you! I want to see if Balsam is okay too! I don't wanna stay here alone!"

"We can look for him tomorrow, and you can tell him you had to stay with Tulsi. He knows you went to find help, no?" You reassure Sage, who nods, then you turn to Tulsi, "This isn't his first winter here, is it? Your friend must've found a place to hide. I'm sure he'll be fine."

Or at least you hope so. You have to believe it for their sake.

After reminding Sage to leave his shoes at the front door, you tuck the siblings into your bed, wish them goodnight, then head for the couch with a spare blanket and pillow. Hours later, sleep still refuses to grace your heavy eyelids, not because the couch is uncomfortable, but you can't stop thinking about Sage and Tulsi, their friend, and how many other kids are out on these streets, weathering the raging storm all on their own. How many aren't going to make it through the night, and who will remember them?

The doctor who answers your call next morning prescribes some medicine for Tulsi before reassuring you that she'll be just fine. You look over her frail body lying in your bed, clinging to Sage to leech at his warmth, and your heart aches at the thought of sending them back to the unforgiving cold, so you fix a warm breakfast of assorted pastries and tea for the three of you. In the afternoon you run a warm bath for Tulsi and only go in when she asks for help with her hair, then in the evening you make dinner for the four of you after Sage brings Balsam in. Later that night, Tulsi sleeps in your bed again.

And that's the story of how you accidentally adopted one (two? three?) little wharf rat(s).

Tulsi lives with you now. You read her bedtime stories every night, even after she learns to read them herself. You find out she has a knack for historical fiction, so that's what fills your bookshelves (which Sage refuses to touch—'I've heard better stories from the sailors by the docks,' he'd gloat). As the days pass, Tulsi becomes more comfortable sleeping without Sage watching over her. One night she slips out of bed and curls up next to you on the couch, so you carry her back to your bed where you sleep side by side.

Sage, on the other hand, comes and goes as he pleases. Some nights he sleeps huddled with all the other kids by the docks; other nights he crawls in through the bedroom window to make sure Tulsi's sleeping well. Sometimes he'll stay over for dinner after bringing you a large bucket of fish he proudly claims he caught by himself (if you couldn't tell by the stench of fish and rotten seaweed clinging to his clothes—he fights tooth and nail before he succumbs to a bath), and sometimes he'll stay well past dinner, so you teach him how you make the fish pastries he loves so much.

Every so often he hands his sister a meager allowance though she very much does not need it now that she lives with you, and he refuses to tell you how he makes the money. You're starting to worry that pick-pocketing isn't his only source of income, if the scars and bruises are anything to go by, and every time you try to express your concern he snaps that you're not his parent and it's none of your business. He's right, of course, yet you find your heart hurting when he says it.

You think it's pride that keeps this little boy from settling down with you and Tulsi, but really, Sage has learned early on that you can never rely on someone for too long. Should the rug be pulled from under their feet—should you decide you no longer want them in your house—he'll always be ready to catch Tulsi before she takes the fall.

iii.

Try as you might, this wood bends to neither your will nor your hands, the latter now covered in splinters. The blacksmith from next door raps his knuckles against your windowsill to wish you a good morning, and when you invite him in for tea and scones, you pray he knows his way with wood just as he does with metal.

After coming back with some tools from his shop, your neighbor sets to work, putting together a new bed for Tulsi, who watches him with awe. You don't think you've seen her blink at all. One too many times you've had to pull the hammer from her little fist before she could hurt herself.

Eventually, the blacksmith shuffles on his knees to make space for Tulsi, and wraps his fist over hers as they tap a nail into place with the hammer together.

"Look at you! You're a natural!" he exclaims, and Tulsi beams. "How'd you like being an apprentice at the smithy? Maybe once you get a lil' taller... These bones are too old to keep hammering at swords for much longer anyway."

"You talk like you've got one foot in the grave," you tut at him. "And how do you know she doesn't want to be my apprentice? I've been teaching her how to separate the egg whites from the yolk, you know, and she's taking to it very quickly!"

That's a lie... mostly. Tulsi's only successful dish so far has been grilled cheese; even Sage has better luck in the kitchen.

"You're just mad she doesn't like waiting for things to bake in the oven. I tell you kid, you're gonna love working the forge."

Tulsi pays no mind to your banter, still starry-eyed ever since your neighbor complimented her hammer skills.

Sure enough, she becomes the blacksmith's apprentice only a year later, much to your dismay; you end up paying for his drinks for the next month now that you've lost the bet. At least you know it's worth it when every night she comes back from work beaming brighter than a firefly on a summer night despite the soot covering her face. You've bought a new towel that you hang on a chair in the kitchen so Tulsi can clean up her face first thing when she's back home. You still have to do it for her since she always forgets to do it herself.

She gifts the first sword she makes under the blacksmith's mentorship to Sage, and the first dagger to you, and the second one to Balsam.

You swear time runs by too fast; next thing you know, you're celebrating the opening of Tulsi's very own smithy. It hasn't been a day since she declared being open for business but long lines are already forming at her door.

"She did build up quite the reputation as an apprentice," your heart swells with pride every time you repeat the story to one of your fellow vendors, killing time with small talk before the streets fill with shoppers. "Now she's the youngest blacksmith of Porrima, and one of its best, if not the best."

Though Tulsi had moved out, and crowds of mercenaries and knights keep her busy all day, she'll always make time to visit you in the evening, and you'll prepare the oolong tea she loves while you catch up. She still wears the headband you gave her years ago to keep her hair out of her face; far too often had she come back from your neighbor's workshop with burnt tips. The towel you used to wipe her face with still hangs off of the same chair in the kitchen.

"Do I have to move in with you just to remind you to get that grease off of your face?" you huff as she laughs. Perhaps some things are never meant to change.

Meanwhile, Sage doubles up in height seemingly overnight and his body has yet to catch up, so he looks more like a lanky, awkward dandelion stalk struggling to readjust to his new sword (also made by Tulsi, though this one was hammered into shape over her very own anvil). You take him out for his first drink at the tavern to celebrate his birthday; it feels like it was just yesterday he was a mangy little kitten sneaking in and out of your shop.

You try to nudge Tulsi towards getting outside her workshop a little more often, make some friends, but she insists she prefers the heat of the forge, unless Sage drags her out for an impromptu fishing and grilling trip with Balsam or another drink at the tavern. She always complains to you about how, more often than not, he's just trying to send her off on a blind date she didn't ask for.

Sage, on the other hand, seems to have grown into quite the party animal. He disappears for longer amounts of time, comes back looking more beat up than before (yet his grin never leaves his face), crashes on your floor (or Tulsi's couch) blackout-drunk more often, and speaks of a certain Lucan like he's the best thing to exist ever since fish-shaped pastries were invented.

"They're good people," he tells you about Lucan and the Griefers. "You don't have to worry so much."

iv.

You think the persistent banging at your door is a customer who missed the very obvious 'CLOSED' sign outside (a somewhat frequent occurrence ever since you moved business indoors after the Lord of Shadows' undead soldiers infiltrated the city), but it's Tulsi, shaking like a leaf in a storm though the skies are clear tonight. You don't remember the last time you've seen her crying, let alone wailing so desperately.

"Sage, he's gone." She shows you a broken, bloodied sword—Zenith, the magical Relic that chose Sage upon joining the Starsworn. You distantly remember how smug he looked the day he was chosen, because apparently it pissed off some guy called Rime.

You gently pull the sword away from her trembling hands and put it aside, before holding her firmly by the shoulders. "What do you mean he's gone?"

"He came to my place and he— and he— oh, he looked terrible," Tulsi hiccups into the crook of her elbow. "There was so much blood and a big wound in his chest! And he— he dropped this," she sniffles, and points at the sword, "then he disappeared. I looked for him everywhere."

You can clearly tell she ran around the town at least twice by the way her windswept hair stands every which way and her legs shake from the strain. Every morbid possibility runs through your mind all at once; you've heard this story before—people who disappear for a while before coming back and quietly blending back in with the crowds, seemingly unharmed; a miracle, they called it. It isn't too long before they start maiming people left and right; these are the undead soldiers of the evil necromancer—innocent civilians killed at his hands then brought back to do his bidding.

Fear swells in your heart until it tries to break out of your chest but fuck, someone has got to keep it together, so you hold Tulsi tightly and run your hand through her unruly hair until she can catch her breath. "He'll be fine. Sage always bounces back; you said it yourself!"

"This time... I don't know."

The best gossip and juiciest rumors are found amongst the vendors still populating the shopping district, going out to sell their wares despite the approaching war. That's where you start looking, and that's where you first hear it: whispers about the Griefers hunting down the traitor who killed their leader in cold blood. Those who were once beacons of safety in Porrima, holding down the fort when the knights got too busy with war efforts, are now more like rabid dogs terrorizing the streets in the name of the Lord of Shadows. Sage is nowhere amongst their ranks—that's what Balsam says when he finds you before you could find him.

He'd accosted Tulsi like a raging boar just as she was leaving your place, eyes bloodshot and hair clinging to his face with sweat, looking nothing like the loud but sweet boy you'd always see following Sage around town. There's a mild tremor in his hands as he digs his fingers into Tulsi's arms, and it takes her breaking down into tears for Balsam to believe that you're not secretly hiding Sage nor do you know where he ran off to; she swears up and down that Sage didn't tell her anything about what happened before he left Zenith.

All falls silent when Balsam lets you know Sage is indeed the traitor they've been hunting down. As if it's any consolation, he reassures you that he won't let the other Griefers come after you, and spares Tulsi one last apologetic glance before disappearing into the night.

You've assumed Sage would leave the Griefers once he joined the Starsworn, conflict of interest and all, but to straight up kill their leader in cold blood? Perhaps Sage has a shady past; perhaps he'd done unsavory things he wouldn't dare speak of, but you've always known, deep down, he's a good kid. He's your kid. Everything he does, he does to protect the people he loves. In what realm of possibility could he kill the one man he practically idolized?

You and Tulsi stand there in silence; for how long, you do not know. A cold breeze sends a shiver down your spine before you remember to shut the door Balsam left open. A thousand unspoken questions weigh down the air between you, but as you meet Tulsi's eyes, you realize one thing's for sure, there has to be a good explanation.

Only Sage can provide that explanation... or perhaps the people he pledged loyalty to. You turn to the Starsworn, who had declared they are marching to Mournfall for the final showdown against the Lord of Shadows. Sage is nowhere amongst their ranks—that's what Anisa confirms cold and curt before marching off, her grip painfully tight on her sword's hilt.

Once upon a time you'd hoped joining the Starsworn would straighten Sage out, or at least encourage him to spend less time getting into pointless fights and passing out drunk in the sewers. Now he's accused of murdering the one man whose praises Sage sang at every chance, considered a traitor by both parties he once claimed loyalty to, and is nowhere to be found—dead or on the run, nobody knows.

What games have you been playing, Sage? What did you get yourself into? You silently call out to the stars as you walk the line between sea and shore, but no one answers. You go out to the beach more often these days, especially after the sun sets and night drapes the city in a dark speckled blanket. Sage loved hanging around here at this time. In a rare, quiet moment of vulnerability, he once confessed to you how the loneliness of an abandoned beach always brought him peace whenever the world became too overwhelming. There's no worries here, only himself, the relentless crashing waves, and the moon and stars above

You find yourself hoping that in this time of turmoil, the beach will draw Sage back in again, and you'll catch a glimpse of him laid out on the sand for a moment's peace before he runs off again. Every time your excursion lets you down, you soothe yourself with the thought that maybe he's watching over you from where you can't see him. 'I'm staying away to protect you,' you can imagine Sage saying. You can't wait to find him so you can give his ear one big painful tug and a piece of your mind.

Tulsi always complains about how you shouldn't go out alone in the dark, let alone as far as the beach—your search is futile and it's not worth risking your life over. As far as she's concerned, her brother has already died. She says it's fine, really, she's getting over it, but she almost never parts with the forge, throwing herself into her work and visiting you less often.

You still bake the fish-shaped pastries Sage so loved; you count how many you've made in the morning, and you keep count of how many you sell throughout the day. You still wait for the day one or two pastries will go missing, maybe three or more if a certain mangy cat is feeling particularly greedy.

[unclefathersantateddy]

18!!

18.1. would you rather have bob or linda as a parent? 

Oooooh this is a HARD choice. Honestly as someone from a single parent household I'd be happy with either on their own! But with that in mind I'd love to know what the two parent experience is like (I know that's kinda cheating lol I'm sorry) but imagine having BOTH of them, BRUh.

18.2. Which character do you wish we saw more of and why?

OOOOH I LIKE this question!! I was thinking recently I wish we got to SEE teddy's mom. She sounds like so much fun, and so WILD for her age lmao! Assuming teddy's in his 40s based off S8E3 The Wolf of Wharf Street when addressing his arm biting habit he says "I did it in my 20s, and again in my 30s, and now apparently it's back", so that puts his mom at 58 at (legal) minimum. This 58yo+ woman firstly despite being partially blind, rides a motorcycle, but she also skateboards, is covered in tattoos, goes on beach trips/cruises/retreats, and has a "boy toy" lmao! What a legend, I need more of her!