2004: Are there any lyrics in particular that stuck with you?
2000: Do you have a favorite ‘era’ of Daft Punk?
I think all eras have their own charm! Because of the gif above (lmao thank u) I have HAA in mind right now. In retrospect I wonder whether that was their final intended era, when they felt most themselves. Human After All was so ahead of its time, and I have always felt sad that they were not recognized for it at the time, at least until Alive 2007 came out. HAA aesthetics are foremost in my mind when I think of Daft Punk.
2004: Are there any lyrics in particular that stuck with you?
‘Let the music of your life / Give life back to music’
Truly underrated lyrics. Interpreting RAM as their swansong, that line really had a lot condensed in it, didn’t it?
I’ll let their music give life back to all the music that was worth it, for sure.
There will come a time when we see through a glass clearly.
First DP fic in half a decade, and what do we have here? Some good back-to-basics robot love, that’s what. 💖 My sincere thanks to @trianghouls, who requested this piece and permitted me to post it.
Thomas and Guy have have had a lengthy upgrade session. Major life adjustments like that are riddled with uncertainties, as you know, so they take time off to relax - sometimes it’s sweet, sometimes it’s bitter, but it’s all for the greater good. They’re very in love. They know it’ll be okay.
Robot!Thomas/Guy, NSFW. Philosophical. Contains a surprise.
Quite short, may be read in one sitting. I’m very pleased with how this turned out, and I hope you enjoy it too. <3
I want to be fluent in Russian and also to be able to go outside without feeling like I’m some kind of leper. Also I really want to make some brownies and there’s no butter, hopefully I can make some tonight
21. If you could tell your past self one thing, what would it be?
Take a year out before going to university. Not because I think my past self would have followed that advice, but because I’d have liked to instill that particular train of thought in me much earlier than it actually did. If I’d allowed myself to understand earlier that I was allowed to make mistakes and come back from them, I think I’d have turned out, well, not like this. Might have had less grueling life experiences, which would mean I’d still write like I did when I was eighteen or so. More amateurish. But I expect I’d have been a lot happier.
29. Morning, afternoon or night?
Night.
30. What reminds you of home (doesn’t have to mean house… just things that remind you of the feeling of home)?
Images of beds and couches. A place to sleep is what I need in a home. I tend to fall asleep easily, so it’s not that I struggle with different beds or anything - I just can’t sleep on transit. Something comfortable that’s not moving is the epitome of home for me, which also defines me to a point, as I am a homebody
68 lib sebinsky pretty please!! 💞 ty for opening drabble requests 🥰
68: “Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”
————-
This was not what Sebastian was expecting to hear tonight. Indeed, he’d expected to hear absolutely nothing, providing all went well. Since he came to live with Vincent he’s become quick on his feet, soft but stealthy, his affections fierce but brief. He lowers his head, shame-faced, and tries to slip away - only to be caught by an amused Vincent, still drowsy-eyed from sleep.
It’s not that he minds being caught. He’s just a little embarrassed, is all.
“I’m sorry. I thought you were…”
“Asleep, yeah, and I was until you kissed me.” Sebastian blushes like a firebrand. Vincent strokes his hair. “Trust me, it felt lovely. But I do wonder. Why only when I’m sleeping?”
They’re not exactly new to kisses, this young pair.Kisses have been a currency of appreciation and affection between them for over a year. As a bise, or on the hand, even before talk of love was on their lips. Since they have decided to give love a go, however, Sebastian has been remarkably coy with his kisses; Vincent is determined to solve this puzzle tonight, though Sebastian be timid. The boy shrugs, averting his gaze. “We kiss often when we’re awake. Why should this be different?”
“Because it’s you accepting mine during the day.” Vincent touches his nose to Sebastian’s playfully. “I’m always thankful you do. But you take your turn during the night, when I can’t always tell…” His expression becomes more serious. “I’ve been wondering whether you had something to tell me. About our relationship, or whether I’ve been good to you-”
Sebastian’s eyes widen. “You are more than good to me! I just…”
But he stops himself quickly. Defensiveness doesn’t make for a good pattern of conversation; he needs to explain, not deny. He lies down with Vincent, his head nestled against the other’s shoulder.
“It’s been nearly two years since we met.” He begins, quiet and hesitant at first, searching for the correct words for his thoughts. His pale hand rests upon Vincent’s warm chest. “And I’ve been thinking... It’s a miracle I met you at all, let alone getting to live with you like this. I’ve never felt quite as - all right - as I’ve felt the past two months.” A small, sad smile. “I don’t even think I felt this way in Serbia. Not for most of the decade. You bring me back the stillness (that’s his word for stability) I lost while coming here, and when you kiss me the world feels quiet where we are, and I am at peace.”
The smile drops then, and Sebastian averts his gaze. His fingers tremble. “But I... I’m afraid it might all go away, you understand. It has been difficult for me to deserve the good things in my life. I’m scared that if I demand any more of you than what I have now, you might find me ungrateful. Overly forward... not really worthwhile.“
Sebastian finishes there and braces himself. He has had many conversations about gratitude and his just deserts in France, and although he’s received a lot of support, those discussions have never once gone the way he wanted them to be. It always ends up as token reassurance that he is well-liked or that he really does belong here, sometimes even a conversation about God’s intentions (no offense to Gaspard, who always gives him much to think about); Sebastian knows all this, he’s asking for help in believing it, and words alone don’t do that justice.Vincent thinks for a while. Then he closes an arm around Sebastian - switches places on the bed when the boy tenses, Sebastian hates being pressed into corners - and presses soft lazy kisses against his forehead. “You’re a shy boy.” He teases softly, caressing the other’s peach-soft cheek, and gazes into his eyes. “You know... in a couple of months, it’ll be a new millennium.”
Sebastian nods wistfully. “I know.”
“A new thousand years. Isn’t it incredible?” Vincent is beginning to sound sleepy again, but his eyes never falter from Sebastian’s own, gazing at him with absolute love and trust. “And to think I spent the past few years thinking that I might not make it, despite being more than young enough to see it through. Having you with me cured me of that thought for good. Worthwhile, you said... After what you’ve done for me, Bastien, if you’re not worth everything what is?”
Sebastian blushes again. “I think many things are going to change in the coming year,” Vincent continues, “and the many others ahead of us. A new millennium is a new era in a very powerful sense, after all. We’ll never see another in our lifetime, but so be it; good or bad, I want to always stand by your side when those changes happen, and I want us to begin a life together.”
“Vinco...”
“But I’m still a young man. A foolish man. I’m actually afraid I’m going to mess up all the time, and I need a lot of help, and plenty of encouragement to keep me going.” Vincent smiles coyly then, gently touching Sebastian’s lips. “And you know... I think a kiss from you is exactly what gives me that strength, and not just at night, either.”
Sebastian looks at him. Slowly, his face relaxes.Relaxation turns into abject relief as he starts laughing. At first he dissolves into helpless chuckles, burying his face in the pillow to quell the noise; but soon the joy is too much to keep to himself, and he grabs Vincent to kiss him again and again, forehead to cheek to lips in rapid succession. Even among friends Sebastian’s delight is rare, so to be the sole recipient of it - ah, Vincent couldn’t be more honoured. He returns the last kiss passionately and hugs Sebastian tight, pulling up the covers around them.
“Let’s do our best, Bastien.” He whispers, linking their fingers together. “Let’s go get your degree and my sportscar and our little cottage in Grasse. We’ve our entire lifetime to shine bright, haven’t we?”
“We do.” For the first time since he came to France, the torch of hope lights definitively in Sebastian’s heart, not to be extinguished for many years. “And if kisses are all I need to make it happen... well, consider that a deal, Vinco.”
I have quite a few, but the thing that pops up in my mind right now is the time I made friends with Monty. I met him in October 2009 and he took until Christmas to open up to me, he was such a timid boy. I stayed over with sig. other’s family during the Christmas holidays - I had a bed upstairs, and the first night I was there, Monty decided to come into my room and sit with me for some time. Because it was quiet and calm (unlike most of the times I’d been at sig. other’s house), he probably decided at that moment that I was safe and valid after all. 😂😂😂 He nuzzled against me a bit, purred and kneaded the covers, then eventually fell asleep with his head against my wrist. He was very soft and warm.
he’s still going strong. hes baby
folktale: what stories remind you of your childhood?
I can’t think of a story that reminds me of my childhood, particularly... I sure remember lots of books that take me back, but these are just books I read during my childhood. They don’t necessarily remind me of my childhood.
Perhaps this is because I didn’t grow up with a lot of the signifiers of childhood people my age share. I never read Terry Pratchett as a child, for one, nor Tintin (not translated into Korean when I was young), Roald Dahl (same), or the usual children’s classics. I didn’t really identify with fairytales or folktales either (Western or Eastern), until I grew up and found out they were a lot grislier than they usually tell you they are. The books I read as a child were usually encyclopedic, classics I wouldn’t understand for a very long time, or the average school media everyone had to read. Things would have been different if I’d been raised in a Western society, I think.
I tell you what, though. Talking about cats up there and childhood books just reminded me I was extremely scared of black cats as a kid. (This was before I ever got to meet a real cat. Cats were 100% conceptual beings to me until I was seven.) This is because I’d had a collection of short stories from all around the world, the ending piece of which was The Black Cat by Edgar Allan Poe. Looking back on it, I had no business reading that at five years old. My copy ended with a full-page illustration of a dead bloodstained woman immured in a wall, a one-eyed black cat standing on her shoulder, yowling straight at the viewer. I was so terrified that I had nightmares the first time I saw it, and then I literally got my dad to staple the end pages shut for me so I didn’t have to see that illustration ever again. But I still remember it to this day, it was that traumatic. And after that, for a few short years, I was terrified of cats and being immured. That is my childhood horror story.
I love black cats now. My sweet sweet Mimikins :”)
snow: what is your favorite time of year and why?
Autumn. About now is a very good time. All the harvest starts ripening and the days become cool enough for me to walk around at any point. There is just enough rain to keep it fresh. I love it so much.
