Subscribe daddy::)From Peach Pit's debut LP "Being So Normal" released September 15th, 2017 on Kingfisher Bluez. Purchase via itunes https://goo.gl/yREgRD We...
Holy shit okay so I still ship Pulse and Thermite and this song is JUST like Thermite looking at Pulse when he's hanging out with Hibana. I know there are many interpretation of this song but this feels like 'a bro who came to love his bro but his bro got someone else.'
So I edited some bits of the lyrics to fit the situation. All the respect goes to the original singer, Peach PIt!
Hey there bud, how'd it go last night?
I saw you at the band stand looking pretty slammed
Did you see me feeding all my drinks to Miles?
Probably not I guess, you were quite the mess
And that girl who tagged along there with you
She’s our best friend, and she seemed fucked up too
From where I sat she looked to be havin' fun
Keepin' up with you just like I used to
Hey there bud, how'd it go last night?
I'm sorry to have ditched out but I was pretty high
Heard from Craig that on his stumble home
Meghan was pukin' up all that beer she'd drunk
Though we didn't talk much, how'd your evening go?
You barely spoke a word to me besides that slurred, "Hello"
But I happened to see without even tryin'
How she laughed with you just like I used to
Hey there bud, how'd it go last night?
I woke up to a pair of shoes I've not seen next to mine
Did you whisper as you crept in through the door
How you'd never done much like this before?
I was thinking back just the other day
Remember when we used to sneak out late to go and blaze?
Seemed like loneliness was all we'd ever do
But now she's knowing you just like I used to
"Just a bit more!" Castle shouts out as if that will give Thermite a ounce more of the strength that he needs. It doesn't matter who suggested the game or where it originated from, but when they heard about the 'wife carrying' beer race, Thermite insisted that he will carry his taller boyfriend for the grand prize. It's two miles long and they are on the last lap.
"Dude, we should've gone the other way around," Pulse sighs as he claws into the back that he's desperately holding on, "It's just five pound of difference. We still get to drink an insane amount that's as heavy as you if I was the one running from the start."
"Fuck it. I've got this." Thermite gasps for fresh air but the heat from the race, crowd and his own sweaty skin surround him like a fog. It's all too obvious that he is unnecessarily fired up on a competition, and they don't even need to be the first to end the race because the cut line is up to the third. But his focus is dead set on the opposing couple who sneered at them for being Adam and Steve rather than whoever appears in the Bible. Of course, girls are lighter than guys so Thermite is at disadvantage here. The difference is that he denounce such fact because the man on his shoulder will never feel like a burden. Thermite has his love wrapped around him.
"The second place goes to the Orange Dabs!" And this is what they do on daily basis. Carrying a teammate to run a long distance is a basic military training programme and none of the civilians seem to have the same amount of stamina as them. It's kind of cheating but hey, no one had to be rude like that couple who are still faltering behind.
"Put me down gently. Holy shit, Jordan, don't you fucking dare-" Pulse panics when he feels the tremble under his weight. He would have collapsed and landed on his face if Thermite didn't squat ever so slowly.
"We've done it. Done it." Thermite is on the verge of collapsing, so Pulse pulls him in to let the man lean and rest.
"You crazy moron."
"Only just crazy?" Thermite rubs his sweaty forehead on his partner's chest.
"Alright. You're the crazy, cute, handsome and stinky moron." Pulse wipes Thermite's face with his shirt and smiles back.
-
Ash later comments while she carries the promised kegs, "'Orange Dabs,' Really?"
5 things asks. For Rook x Doc or Pulse x Thermite.
5 Things to ask for a ship
OF COURSE YOU’D ASK YO FAVOURITE BOYS ;)
Rook/Doc
Black coffee for Doc and nutella filled croissant for Rook.
White medical gown folded neatly by Rook and it took a while for Doc to notice.
The occasional doubt from Doc, wondering if he is too old for dear Rook.
Rook thwarting such worry away by showering Doc with undivided affection and loyalty.
The house they’ll live have interior that has white furniture, beige carpet and navy wardrobe to reminiscence the time they spent together as GIGN.
Pulse/Thermite
Greasy pan and plate from their love for bacon and egg in the morning.
A tub of aloe vera that Pulse put on Thermite’s hand as if it’s their new Sunday ritual. Hint: Thermite wants to be an atheist of this particular religion.
Shaver and cream for Thermite to tend Pulse’s hairstyle.
A study room for nerds who are actually quite studious in their fields of work.
The beauty of ‘best friend to lover’ dynamic is that they can call each other dickbags and still fall in love like it’s their first time.
Sewing needle. Sandpaper. Ice cubes. His own flesh in a room temperature and a boiling kettle. Thermite has been preparing these items on a monthly basis for a simple check up. A small test on whether his chemically burnt hands are capable of ‘feeling.’ To see if this wrinkly skin have any nerves left to differentiate textures and temperatures.
Prickle is easy to determine. It’s best to test when he’s neither cold or hot. One poke on each finger tips, another on cuticles. He runs the pointy edge along the lines of fingers and palms, and also the fleshy bits that have muscles underneath. Minor prickles and stings are hardly felt unless he exerts a push. Sandpaper feels similar, so he stops before risking unwarranted grazes.
Ice cubes are more distinguishable when he holds onto them longer than ten seconds. Thermite continues to clench and let them melt, allowing the drips to travel down the engraved scars.
Now comes the bothersome part of this self-assessment. To work with hot water, Thermite must warm his freezing hands back to a normal body temperature. There were times he prepared a tub of water that’s exactly 98 °F, but that’s difficult to maintain and measure.
Hence he sticks them under his own armpits or thighs, and it never fails to make him shudder in surprise. Thermite usually watches videos while waiting, but this time he forgets to have a phone handy. Mind drifts along here and there, and it settles on a question he hadn’t thought about in a while.
When did he start caring about tactile senses? More importantly, when was the last time he didn’t care? There were days when he upheld the safety procedures that his science teachers preached. Always wear gloves. It was single-handedly the most fundamental advice to follow and he obeyed up until he graduated from the university. Any time after that, he either became too occupied or was thrown into situations where decisions had to be made within seconds. No one had the time to find gloves when they were under attack from all directions. With his fingers that moved freely and nimble, he saved countless lives including his own. Those third degree burns were battle scars that he outwardly spoken in pride. Then what changed his mind?
“Damn,” A spark strikes and it dampens his mood with memories that he buried deep within, “Should’ve got some YouTube on.”
The death of his sister. He rightfully remembers the last visit before she passed away. The synthetic scent of cleanliness was nauseating as he caressed those pale cheeks that resembled the spotless blanket that held her captive. Valves from oxygen mask hissed, but it’s was more of a depleting air balloon that lulled her into an eternal slumber. Jordan sat by the woman who was his best friend of a life time and reached out to hold her hand. As his fingers wrapped around hers, tears welled up at how thin they were.
“Good that you are here. She’s been complaining about how sickness makes her cold.” A nurse’s comment was courteous at best. Then it meandered around the back of his head, raising a question that bugged him to no end. Did he know whether his sister’s hands were warm or cold? The frail frame remained still in his grasp, but that’s all he could feel. The weight and size were obvious, but any other detail like temperature was vague. No matter how much he squeezed and massaged, he thought it’s as warm like his own. Confusion turned into anxiety, then came fear without a warning bell. He thought about lifting her hand away from mattress, but decided against it as if such act might make her uncomfortable. He slowly leaned down to have her hand meet his uninjured skin. Soon his cheek touched the pointy knuckles and the sheer icy coldness froze him on the spot. It’s what his deformed hands couldn’t detect. Denials and excuses didn’t matter because there were no lies in what healthy skin felt.
Flashback ends as it leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Thermite dabs his hands against the same cheek and sighs in defeat. Rather than lightly tapping on the hot kettle, this time he decides to pour out a hot steaming stream in a bowl. The man is ready to dip and parboil. A few inches won’t do much; he must dip and completely submerge the whole hand into a pool that can cook instant cup noodles. Thermite hates the adrenaline rush that pounds his heart. He loathes the body memory yelling at him to stop, as if the brain is having an illusion that tracks back to the life he had before the military. Fuck this. On count to three, Thermite shall commence a self-torture and see if this will hurt as it should. If not, then he’ll laugh it off as a big joke while slightly dying inside.
“One, two,” Thermite swallows a dry spit, “Three-”
“Are you fucking insane?” Someone pulls Thermite away by shoulder. Such harsh force that sends his body flying backward, and yet neither of them falls. A familiar scent wafts behind as Thermite’s head is pressed against the other man’s chest. How he missed the mixture of body sweat and classic army-issued soap.
“I thought you liked lobsters,” A corner of his lips shoots up as he turns around to greet the most lovable egghead he had ever met, “Did you spy on me with your heart detector again?”
“Goddamn it! I’m not joking around,” Pulse clicks his tongue at the weird arrays of items on the table, “You don’t need to do this. Is this what doctors recommend for you?”
“No,” Thermite stands up to smooth out the frown on such a handsome face. His thumb moves onto the tip of Pulse’s pointy nose that has its own charm. Then he proceeds to run fingertips on the barehead that has an even layer of growing stubbles. Upon planting a kiss on the back of Pulse’s hand, Thermite finds out that he might have given his lover a blood-draining panic, “I don’t need a doctor when I have you.” Yes, he is being cheesier than usual. But who can stop Thermite from wedging Pulse's hands under his armpit to share the warmth?
"Jordan, come on." Pulse rolls his eyes at the remark, and yet his ears ripen into delectable blush. Thermite can almost taste the heat in his tongue.
“I know, I know. I’ll ask Kateb to be my referral for a specialist.” That concludes the playful banter. It’s too short for Thermite’s liking, but having Pulse to cause a ruckus is a remedy of its own kind. He’d rather be subjected to an affectionate nagging than being alone in smothering silence.
I’ve been into this ship for a while now and I sure ain’t hell quitting just yet. I thought ‘why not’ at first, but now that I think more about them... Damn, I think they compliment each other quite nicely! If anybody writes/draws about Pulsemite, hit me up please ;)
Well, I have a lot of ships and the songs that I listen while writing doesn’t really relate to them (hint: they are mostly sad songs or Korean.) So I’ll try to find songs within my radar that’ll fit the ships that I’m currently invested in now (the list always change for me.)
Clash/Caveira - Daisuke by El Huervo. Not really a song but rather a music. It’s from Hotline Miami the game and this music gives me the picture of Clash and Caveira sitting on the edge of a window. They are chilling while drenched in blood and cuts, but all of those who dared to hurt them are laying cold on the floor. Clash smokes sometimes and this is the time she light up a strand to flash an ember. Caveira snatches it down and fills her lover’s mouth with her own, painting their skin in blotches of red.
Sledge/Smoke - Mardy Bum by Arctic Monkeys. This is my go-to song when I think of Smoke being a mellow bastard and Sledge sometimes being fed up with his irresponsible boyfriend.
Pulse/Thermite - Slow Dancing In a Burning Room by John Mayer. It’s them having an argument. Everything in slow motion when they throw things at each other, resulting to fisticuffs and glasses being broken around them. I can see this happening when Thermite had to go away for the Outbreak mission, which was treated as a secret back then.
Echo/Vigil - Wait for Me by Kwang-Seok Kim (기다려줘, 김광석.) The video provides translations. Lyrics and the feels are so perfect because sometimes Vigil is distant to Echo so Echo tries his hardest to be there for Vigil while giving a space at the same time.
Doc/Lion - Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran. Purely because of the lyrics. I see them kissing to this music and reminiscing all those times they were hostile to each other, like a movie of juxtaposed scenes where we see flashes of tender love and fierce argument going back and forth.
[Yeah I've been feeling everything, from hate to love, from love to lust, from lust to truth. I guess that's how I know you. So I hold you close to help you give it up.]
Hibana/Dokkaebi - If It Kills Me by Jason Mraz. So! While Ubi has announced that Pulse and Hibana are officially dating, but imma add my little flavourtown and uhhhh headcannon that they aren’t dating but looking really close. The singer is from Dokkaebi point of view and fellas, it’s a happy ending for her ;)
[ If I should be so bold, I'd ask you to hold my heart in your hand. I'd tell you from the start how I've longed to be your girl. But I never said a word, I guess I'm gonna miss my chance again.]
