#twice!!

[valictini]

The tragedy of realising that the cute item you wanted to buy is from an American artist and that the shipping cost will inevitably double or even triple the overall price, making the purchase unreasonable: a memoir

[liz-the-box]

I was too afraid to just outright post this, so instead I'm putting it in your inbox. I meant to have this done a bit ago (darn my bad luck for getting sick). But I've had this on my mind for a while, and even looked to your own works for inspiration. But here is a short piece about Sparky and her Banjo

There was a time where you didn't much care for your hands. Your feet were more important, they were what carried you forward, pushed you towards your goals, brought you that one step closer to quelling that feeling you didn't have a name for that raged in your chest.

Can I hold this? Can I hit this? Those were the questions you asked your hands. It wasn't important to think of all the things they could do, that others were already doing.

And then….then there was after.

You didn't know that would be the hardest part.

It was painstaking, embarrassing work, but you taught your hands to do so much more.

They build more than they take.

(What others do with what you make is not your problem, there's already too much weighing you down to allow their sins to be painted next to yours).

There was a tavern you found one day in the after of it all. You found it again and again, because it was there that you started to become you. They noticed you, they could see why you came back and with a smile on their faces they passed you a stringed instrument.

You fell in love with that first awful twang your fingers plucked.

It took you time but none of the effort for it shows on your hands. There are no calluses or blisters. Your body holds the memory of all those hours spent practicing so easily, but it doesn't hold the evidence. Your clawhammer has none of the marks of age, it looks as pristine as the day you got it. Sometimes you wonder if that takes some of the folk soul from it. You think wistfully after a song is done reverberating, that there are just some things you make that can't be held anywhere but the heart. (You smile that smug satisfied smirk that you know gets on peoples nerves, when they see you after you play and not him).

Some of the customers you meet later thought it was strange you picked a banjo. (They were expecting you to pick up that fiddle like it was the good ol' days, the ones you weren't there for. They're expecting to see their friend again, the one you're taking them from, and you can't stand the way they're reminded that they're stuck with you when the music stops).

You are machine and mechanisms, gears and grease but your wires sing and there is music in your soul. ("Can robots even make something so human as a song?" someone asks you like you're still not a living creature. Like you don't have feelings. As if there isn't a soul that's yours -his- coursing through every piece of your body).

(You're screaming it's mine as soon as you know to even think it, and if you're not holding onto that thought then you start thinking dangerous things and walking dark paths that only have one end….)

Later on your therapist tells you there is memory in sound.

"Yeah. Sure," you said dismissively at the time. But there are songs in your soul that carry weight and history and you feel like you're part of a linage (you feel the word family on the tip of your tongue but you never let the taste of the word leave your mouth).

No matter how much you try and dismiss your bastard of a therapist sometimes you can't help but think about how right they are (there are times when you shut off your audio processors just to stop remembering).

But then again, sometimes the quiet is worse. It's a haunting specter, watching hungrily. It nips at your heels bleeding you dry of sanity. When there's no work, you have to hold back the specter of silence yourself, and you fill the air with the sounds from the most ancient of mountains.

Most people hear a banjo and think of bumpkins. They think of silly twangy nonsense and the echo of hootin' hollerin' rednecks. They don't understand how much depth is in those bluegrass strings, they don't understand how much weariness and sadness those strings reverberate. It's hard to put the heavy feelings in a fiddle (it's harder still to pick one up and carry his legacy).

But there is one day when you're plucking away at that sad banjo and another melody joins yours.

It's warm in a way you haven't been, it breathes in a way you don't and it's the perfect instrument to compliment the bluegrass twang of a banjo.

A harmonica breathes past and under your vibrating strings. And for that first time…the banjo doesn't feel so heavy anymore.

GOOOOOOOOOOOD TRIIIIISSS WHEN I GET YOUUUUU

God this is so good!!!

You almost made me cry meanie/pos

Gosh I can't get enough of this and you're so correct at first (when I was thinking about after Sparky had left [REDACTED] and got her revenge that she would learn the fiddle) but this narratively is so much better!!! Because yeah! The banjo would be/feel like the instrument that makes her different from being associated with Fiddleford at all but the catch is that it's actually the instrument that is THE MOST associated with Fiddleford and the Fiddle is the out lier but it still holds so much wait bc it's associated with a version of her that doesn't exist anymore (Sp Fidds).

And the bit about the walking is SO PERFECT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!!!!

But I can't say why because that's top secret 👀👀👀

But know it's so perfect!!!

And Fuck to add the therapist (timeline wise it's a bit out of order but it's ok I might be reading this a bit wrong)

But GOD their trying to help but they don't understand that Sparky is haunted by a man she's never met.

AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE HER DARK THOUGHTS-

Implying Bonzo being there and being a song to accompany her banjo like how he accompanies her in every step of her healing and feeling 'human' and herself AAAAAAAAAA IM GOING TO START CRYING AGAINNNNN

all in all this is such a beautiful piece and man do I need to invest in a cork board to hang up all your wonderful writing!!!!

[calcium-is-screaming]

CRUSH UPDATE!!

okay so in spanish of course we fought again, the usual i like pushed her and she pushed me, it was fun. and then she simped over jason todd-

apparently in drama she had to play a character and so she was jason todd then they had to write about their character and so then she explained the jason todd lore- so he was killed and then came back to life and his birth family died so he was taken into the batfam, he’s an antihero and that has to do with the color red(???), and likes burgers. she also ships superbat, which i think is funny cuz technically their ship name could also be manman…

AND THEN

in pe we were playing an all classes game (there’s five classes in the same block) and it was called pin soccer but it really had very little similarity to soccer. basically, some people had pins they had to protect, then other people were sweepers who had to try to kick gator balls (these soft balls that we use instead of dodgeballs cuz they don’t hurt to get hit with) into their pins to knock them down, then when your pin is knocked down, you take it and give to to the people waiting for a pin

anyways so i was a sweeper first, and i went after her except i suck at kicking things and missed at point blank like five times 😭

finally i got her out, then on my second time being a sweeper (i was a sweeper twice in a row) i got her out again >:3

then again when we both had pins, i got her out, then when she got back i got my friend to guard my pin and i got her out, and then i proceeded to get her out like another two times-

funnily enough she never came after me tho so i was in way longer then her :D

[dazaisfavbitch]

We find fox really cool and amazing. :D

You're very fun to interact with. ^^ /gen

THANK YOUUU

Fox loves Twice as well and thinks they are really cool too! It always makes fox happy whenever he sees Twice in his inbox or anywhere near his blog!

TWICE APPRECIATION POST!!!

[gyutaro-truther]

Me during infinity castle: omg Gyutaro mentioned

[c7berz]

ik im gonna get wacked for this but- the idea that Caitlyn shouldnt verbally apologize to Vi bc its "not necessary" feels a bit.. idk silly to me? Using the same logic Vi shouldve never apologized to Jinx (twice!) in season 1 because it wouldve been just as unnecessary.

Vi got out of jail and her first priority was to find her sister. She chased her around basically through all of Zaun, was willing to sacrifice her relationship with Cait, and has multiple lines of dialogue with Jinx and other characters expressing her regret for abandoning Powder (despite the fact that she never abandoned her to begin with).

Vi bears the guilt of "making" Jinx (also despite the fact that this isnt really true either) but Cait cant verbally apologize for hitting Vi more than once? Or for literally gassing the undercity? Or for shooting at Jinx when Vi (and a child!!) were standing in the way? And sure canonically Cait has never missed a shot, but one of those bullets hit Vi!! either she does miss (which wouldve put Isha at risk) or she straight up shot Vi on purpose in that scene and then hit her again not even five minutes later!! not to even mention pressuring Vi into becoming an enforcer despite knowing the kind of abuse Vi suffered at Stillwater

But sure yeah, a verbally apology is wholly unnecessary and a waste of the little time season 2 had, and anyone who wants to see Cait apologize at all in any way cant understand the hashtag deep writing and only wants to see Cait suffer and be punished

[lunali-moon]

all together repeat after me: Oscar is the best boy, Oscar is the boy of the day