#bedlam wolf

[songoshen]

Moving In - EmThatch Drabble

Somehow Emily runs into a man with an outdated and ridiculous hairdo who claims he is - or was, at least - a pirate, keeps running into him, and finally decides to take in the poor guy because he was homeless.

Even if there were all the pets at her house running amok in her house that she has to take care of. Oh well. She'll think of some solution.

Smiling she turns to Thatch, "Well here it is! You'll be temporarily sleeping on the couch till we find some other solution. Oh, and I need to set some ground rules first."

Thatch nods and smiles back as he twirls a pan in his hand. He still feels terribly grateful that this woman is willing to take him in - after all, not all civilians treat pirates kindly like she does. And her kitchen is filled with such a large range of food that he was itching to try out, not to mention the various strange creatures scurrying to and fro the rooms.

"First, my pets not for eating, but that much should be obvious, right?" She points to her iguana sitting peacefully on the counter... wait a moment, when did Wasabi crawl out? Hastily she stuffs him back into his cage, forgetting that she only let him out an hour ago for whatever reason and stays oblivious to Thatch's disappointed expression.  "Also, everything in this shelf of the fridge and in this cabinet is not for eating, either. They're my pets' food."

Thatch can't help but notice that the food is a good large chunk of what she has that is edible, but can only nod along. "Then what do you eat?" he asks curiously. 

"... About that..." Sheepishly she ran a hand through her hair.

Sighing, Thatch drops his pan and tugs at her hand. "Before moving in, I think it's more important to feed the pretty lady here. I was the cook for my ship, did I tell you?"

Emily notices how his tone changes just slightly when he says 'my ship'. "Well," she says, returning the grasp on her hand, "How about we go to the grocery store and you can tell me more about your cooking adventures on that ship of yours?"

(ew i didnt know how to end this ;_; i need to write more)

[caramelalmonnd]

EmThatch - Dumplings

Written by WevilWendy (I.E. not me) in honour of EmThatch day “Dinner is served!” Thatch announced happily. “Awesome! I’m starving,” Emily replied as she made her way over to the dinner table. The couple sat in happy silence for a few minutes as they stuffed their faces. Mukki prowled underfoot, occasionally pawing at their legs in the hopes of a scrap or two. Finally sated, Emily leaned back in her chair and stretched. Mukki, of course, took this as a signal to hop into her lap. “Ooph” Emily said as the heavy cat landed on her. Mukki ignored this and turned around to sniff at the empty plate. “Hey, get away from there,” she said as she pushed him off her lap. While Emily was preoccupied with the cat, Thatch quietly dropped a piece of meat on the floor for Mukki. “So, Dearest, what did you think of the meal?” “It was amazing, as usual,” she told him. “What kind of meat did you use for the dumplings? They were delicious.” “Oh, that was that lizard-thing you had over there,” Thatch told her, pointing to the now-empty cage. “Wait, WHAT?” she shrieked, running over over to Wasabi’s cage. “You cooked my iguana?! You made Wasabi dumplings!?” “What?” he asked, alarmed at her sudden hysterics. “I didn’t put any wasabi in the dumplings.” “Not wasabi, you moron, Wasabi! My pet iguana! How could you?!” “That was a pet?” he said, slowly edging away from Emily. “I thought you were raising it for food…” “Wasabi. Was. Not. Food.” Before he realized what was happening, Emily had tackled him and seemed to be attempting to gouge out his eyes with her titanium spork. In retrospect, perhaps he should have asked her before cooking the lizard into dumplings…

[caramelalmonnd]

EmThatch - Hair

Emily held out a pair of scissors to Thatch. “Your hair. Cut it.”

Thatch could only stare back dumbly. “What? Why?”

“Are you kidding me?” Emily said, shoving the scissors more forcefully towards him. “It looks like a beaver’s ass immitating Elvis Presley! It has to go.”

“I thought immitation was the highest form of flattery,” Thatch tried, but she only gave him one of those looks. With a sigh, he took the scissors, pinching them between his thumb and forefinger.

“I don’t even know how to cut hair…”

“So go to a barber,” Emily said. “As long as it gets gone.”

“But Ems, my hair…! It has… a tragic backstory!” Thatch put the back of his hand against his forehead melodromatically, silently willing the air around him to turn that hazy pink colour that showed up during emotional moments in anime. “This hair is my treasure!”

“Ah, I understand.” Emily crossed her arms over her chest. “It really is tragic that your treasure is something so hideous.”

Thatch’s face faulted, wavering long enough for Emily to urge him towards the door. “Go on, there’s a barber’s a few blocks away that takes walk ins.” He managed to grab a pair of shoes for himself before the five-foot terror threw him bodily out to the curb. “And don’t come back until your leaning tower of hairza is gone!”