#piano refurbishment

[hendrypianos]

Piano Restoration Melbourne: Revitalize Your Instrument

Pianos are not just musical instruments; they are cherished heirlooms, centerpieces of homes, and gateways to artistic expression. Over time, even the finest pianos can experience wear and tear, losing their tonal quality and visual appeal. For those in Melbourne, preserving and revitalizing these beloved instruments is now easier than ever with Hendry Pianos’ expert piano restoration services. Here’s why restoring your piano with Hendry Pianos is an investment worth making.

The Importance of Piano Restoration

Piano restoration is a meticulous process that involves repairing, refinishing, and rejuvenating an instrument to bring it back to its original glory or even enhance its quality. Here’s why you might consider restoring your piano:

Preserve Sentimental Value: Many pianos are family heirlooms, passed down through generations. Restoring these instruments preserves their sentimental value and keeps family traditions alive.

Enhance Sound Quality: Over time, pianos can lose their tonal quality. Restoration can bring back the rich, vibrant sound that made you fall in love with the instrument in the first place.

Cost-Effective: A full restoration can be more cost-effective than buying a new, high-quality piano. It allows you to retain a superior instrument at a fraction of the cost.

Aesthetic Appeal: A restored piano is not only a musical asset but also a beautiful piece of furniture that can enhance the décor of any room.

The Hendry Pianos Difference

At Hendry Pianos, we understand the deep connection pianists have with their instruments. Our restoration services in Melbourne are designed to honor that connection, bringing each piano back to life with meticulous care and attention to detail.

Comprehensive Assessment

The restoration process begins with a thorough assessment of the piano. Our experts examine every aspect, from the soundboard and strings to the action and exterior finish. This detailed evaluation helps us understand the unique needs of your piano and develop a tailored restoration plan.

Skilled Craftsmanship

Our team of skilled craftsmen has years of experience in piano restoration. They use traditional techniques combined with modern technology to ensure the highest quality results. Whether it’s replacing worn-out hammers, repairing the soundboard, or refinishing the cabinet, every step is performed with precision and care.

Quality Materials

We believe that the quality of materials used in restoration is just as important as the craftsmanship. Hendry Pianos sources the finest materials, from premium-grade wood for soundboards to high-quality strings and action parts. This ensures that your piano not only looks stunning but also performs flawlessly.

Refinishing and Rebuilding

The aesthetic restoration of a piano is as important as its mechanical repair. Our refinishing process restores the piano’s exterior to its original luster or can even enhance its appearance with custom finishes. We also rebuild key structural components to ensure the piano’s longevity and stability.

Tuning and Voicing

Once the physical restoration is complete, our technicians focus on the piano’s tonal quality. This involves tuning the strings and voicing the hammers to achieve the perfect sound. Our goal is to ensure that your piano sounds as beautiful as it looks, offering a rich, dynamic range that meets your musical preferences.

Testimonials from Satisfied Customers

Our dedication to excellence has earned us a reputation as Melbourne’s premier piano restoration service. Here’s what some of our satisfied customers have to say:

Emma R.: “Hendry Pianos restored my grandmother’s antique piano, and it’s like a piece of family history brought back to life. The craftsmanship is incredible, and it sounds better than ever.”

James L.: “I was amazed at the transformation of my old upright piano. Hendry Pianos exceeded my expectations in every way. It looks and sounds absolutely stunning.”

Melbourne Conservatory: “We have trusted Hendry Pianos with the restoration of several of our pianos. Their attention to detail and commitment to quality is unmatched. Our pianos are now concert-ready and look magnificent.”

Maintaining Your Restored Piano

After restoration, maintaining your piano is crucial to preserving its condition and sound quality. Here are some tips to help you keep your piano in top shape:

Regular Tuning: Schedule regular tunings to maintain the piano’s sound quality. Ideally, a piano should be tuned at least twice a year.

Proper Environment: Keep your piano in a stable environment with consistent temperature and humidity levels. Extreme fluctuations can affect the wood and tuning.

Cleaning: Dust the piano regularly with a soft cloth. Avoid using harsh chemicals on the finish.

Professional Maintenance: Periodically have your piano inspected by a professional technician to address any minor issues before they become major problems.

Conclusion

Piano restoration is a beautiful blend of art and science, requiring expert knowledge, precision, and a deep appreciation for the instrument’s history and character. Hendry Pianos offers unparalleled piano restoration services in Melbourne, bringing pianos back to life with unmatched craftsmanship and care. Whether your piano is a cherished family heirloom or an investment in your musical journey, trust Hendry Pianos to restore its beauty and enhance its performance. Contact us today to begin the transformation of your beloved piano.

Click Here For More Information : https://www.hendrypianos.com.au/piano-restoration-melbourne/

Contact Us For More Information

Phone Number: 0411 714 275

Fax Number: 3 8611 7978

Address: Unit 10, 13-17 Crawford Street, Braeside. VIC, 3195

[bnaturalpianos]

Yamaha Piano NJ

Yamaha pianos are simple to maintain and tune. They are built to last and sound excellent after years of bashing on the piano. B Natural Pianos & Music School has the best collection of brand-new and refurbished Yamaha pianos in New Jersey. Visit our Rockaway store today!

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Unusual, architecturally interesting 1928 brick home in Birmingham, AL. 3bds, 3ba, 3,268 sq ft, $995k.

2 porches- one is covered and one is like a patio.

Small entrance foyer for coats, etc., and note the sculpted doorway.

Beautiful arches and a niche on the right. French doors to the front porch let in natural light.

And, look at the unusual fireplace. Rustic stone surround and a classically sculpted mantel.

A large dining room has doors to the covered front porch.

From one who was forced to take years of lessons and can't play a note, I can tell that this pass-thru is clearly for a piano teacher.

This kitchen! it's so vintage. Look at the sink! I love the floor and the cabinetry.

Beautiful brick alcove for the stove, probably had a big cast iron stove at one time.

The cabinets look original.

Vintage guest half bath with storage.

The 2nd fl. landing is nice and wide. There's a phone niche in the wall on the right.

The primary bedroom is large, and look at the arched original door.

This is nice, an original vintage bath.

The bedrooms are large and have doors to a rooftop deck.

The smallest room is a home office/guest room.

Great rooftop deck.

Nice big yard. Love the rock wall and iron fence. 0.43 acre lot.

Above the garage there's a little guest house that the current owner seems to be working on refurbishing.

You can see the stucco walls. They put down a new floor and painted the walls an unfortunate dreary battleship gray.

They put in a new sink and cabinets.

And, it has a new tile shower. I don't know why they picked brown when they painted the whole place gray, though.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/844-Essex-Rd-Birmingham-AL-35222/964283_zpid/?

[sometimesanalice]

Leave a Light On {vol. i}

Summary: When Bradley had given you a key to his place, what he probably didn’t expect was to find you there at 2 am sitting at the piano you’d helped him find.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 7k

Warnings: lots of pining and yearning (Minors DNI)

(this was the story I was working on back in January, before the 'Like I Can' series and anything else on my masterlist. I'm so excited to share it with you all! This will be a 2-part series.)

When Bradley had given you a key to his place, you imagine he probably thought you’d check on his plants every now and then. That you’d pop by to give them a quick water and then be on your way.

Maybe that you’d take the Bronco out for a quick spin, so that his baby it didn’t sit there too long going unused. You were one of a very small handful of people he trusted to drive his most prized possession. There was something special about being behind the vintage wheel with the sun on your face as you cruised along the highway, even if it wasn’t the same without him sitting there smiling next to you.

He’d already put his mail on hold with the USPS, but you knew that he knew he could count on you to rescue any stray package that might slip through the cracks and make its way to the front door of his charming craftsman bungalow.

What he probably didn’t expect was for you to be there sometime past 2 AM sitting on the creaky bench of the old, but well-loved, piano that you had helped him to find.

You should be tucked away under the comforter of your own bed, in your own room, at your own place.

Instead, your fingers are navigating over the black and ivory keys trying, yet again, to make it through a tricky passage on a song that you’ve spent the better part of the last three months trying to perfect.

He was coming home soon and you couldn’t wait to hold him, to love him, to surprise him.

Each time he leaves, it gets a little easier to miss him. You wear your longing like a locket rather than an albatross around your neck, always there but easier to bear.

Rooster had a way of filling a space in a way you’ve never experienced before. His larger than life charisma was one of the first things that had caught your attention, followed by that damn smile of his.

He was always humming in the kitchen.

Or whistling in the car.

Or playing the piano to decompress after a long day.

Or listening to something on his mom’s refurbished record player.

His presence always so tangible and warm, like a blanket pulled fresh from the dryer. With Bradley around, you could wrap yourself up in the sheer comfort of him.

And when he was gone, it was the quiet that you struggled with the most. A constant reminder of just how far away he was. No texts or calls or voice memos throughout the day. No little everyday sweet somethings that let you know he was thinking of you.

The sound of silence followed you everywhere. Its heavy companionship making itself known regardless of how loudly you sang along to his favorite songs on the playlist he had made you or how many times you played through the song you were learning just for him.

You had grown up in the silence, you knew it well.

Parents who stayed together because it was easier than splitting the house and sharing the kid. And on the rare occasions it wasn’t quiet, it was loud. The kind that was inescapable regardless of how much you buried under the covers or how far you tucked yourself away in the corner of the backyard.

Until one day the glossy, satin walnut upright piano appeared along the wall in your barely used dining room. And then it soon became your favorite way to cover the quiet and to mask the loud.

Looking back on it now, maybe your parents had wanted something to fill the silence too.

The hours and hours of lessons you and Bradley had both been forced to sit through as children was something that the two of you had bonded over pretty early on. And while he had kept up with playing, it was something that had fallen to the wayside in your life. First with school, then with a career, and now with purposeful avoidance.

There was once a time when reading sheet music had come as easily to you as reading a book. And then one day, they were just a bunch of random dots scattered in between and across five lines on a piece of paper.

There was once a time when you didn’t even need to look down to know where your fingertips were flying to. And then one day, all your fingers could do was stumble and trip over the keys as you winced at the dissonance it created.

And when Rooster had learned about your mutual musical upbringing, he had made it his personal mission to try and get you to play something for him. He was so sweet, so sincere in the way he’d ask you, all big brown eyes and hopeful smiles.

It had always made your chest tight to brush him off. It was something he clearly wanted to share with you, but that part of you ached like a phantom limb. You didn’t know what would be worse embarrassing yourself or disappointing him with your lack of skill when it was something that you used to be so proud about.

It was easy to dodge him at first during nights out at the Hard Deck with your understandable Not with all these people here’s to your practical Mozart would just bring the vibes down’s to your evasive Maybe next time’s. 

And when his polite requests were met with empty answers, he took it a step further.

One night in his bed, the curtains fluttering as the sea breeze mingled with his sandalwood scent, he’d whispered into your heated skin, “I’ll get you to play something for me one of these days. Maybe I just need to find the right form of bribery.”

His teasing innuendo juxtaposed deliciously with the deliberate touch of his fingers and tongue as he’d played your body to a perfect crescendo.

It reached a point where you couldn’t stomach to see the dejection in his eyes, the hurt he tried so hard to hide when you’d deny him yet again, that you had to own up to your closely guarded secret.

The confession had whooshed out of you in one breath, leaving you feeling deflated and defeated afterwards.

When you eventually mustered the courage to look at him, he’d been wearing the softest look of understanding on his face, as if he could sense the toll it took to admit the loss of that part of yourself. Then he gathered you in his lap and held you, all while the tears of frustration simmered behind your tightly squeezed eyes.

And when he offered to help remind how to read that language without words, to help you remember the letters of the keys beneath your fingers, it had made your heart hurt a little less.

You weren’t ready then, not like you are now.

But nothing gave you as much pleasure as it did to watch Rooster seated in front of the well-worn and well-played upright piano of Penny’s at the Hard Deck. There was nothing more exhilarating than seeing him in his element so at home on the bench, scuffed and scratched from performers of the past, as he shared that part of himself with everyone in the bar.

He made it look so easy. So damn effortless. His thick fingers flying purposefully over the keys as he played from memory. His joyous enthusiasm electrifying and substantial enough to get the whole bar singing along with him.

It always drew him a lot of attention.

How could it not? He was magnetic on a bad day and captivating the rest of the time. And entirely too handsome for his own good.

Interested eyes, curious eyes, hungry eyes followed him around more often than not after an impromptu performance.

However, those brown eyes of his were always set on you.

Never wavering, never straying from you as he’d weave his way poco a poco, little by little, back through the packed bar. Handing out high-fives to people on autopilot as he passed by to return back to your side. Glistening with the sweat he worked up and grinning widely as he’d greet you with a How’d I do, sweetheart?. Those big, capable hands sliding around your waist, in the back pocket of your jeans, under your top to rest on your low back.

The two of you never stuck around for long after he wrapped up. You didn’t mind helping him find ways to put that excess adrenaline to good use. Usually in the backseat of the Bronco.

You’ll never forget the first time Bradley serenaded you. The song meant for you and you alone.

If someone were to cut into that soft, pink part of your brain, you’re pretty sure they would find that memory pressed there like flowers between the pages of a book. Forever apart of you.

It was the song that always took you right back to that little vinyl shop along the pier. And back to that date that had almost derailed it all.

When Rooster had picked you up to take you to dinner all those months ago, he had seemed a bit antsy and absentminded.

Sure, he had gotten out of the Bronco to come fetch you like a gentleman, instead of sending some half-assed Here text like your ex had been fond of doing. You thought for sure he’d be hustling you back inside after he caught a glimpse of what you were wearing once you opened your front door to greet him.

So you were surprised when he’d simply pressed a dry kiss to your cheek and escorted you to his car with a hand placed respectfully between your shoulder blades instead of cheekily in that space between your low back and ass.

That spot that toed the line between decent and indecent. That spot that made him smirk when you’d give him a pointed lift of the eyebrow, because the two of you knew exactly what he was doing. And better yet, liked it.

However, that night it was almost like he was going through the motions, like he was already somewhere else.

The car ride to the restaurant was silent except for the white noise of the highway as he drove. The circular knob for the radio set to the left.

Off.

Which in hindsight should have been your first warning, since Bradley was never not listening to the Oldies station. A vintage vibe for your vintage boy. 

When you were finally seated across from him at that new trendy Thai place you had been dying to go to, his fingers wouldn’t stop tapping out some unheard tune. On the tops his thighs. On the top of the table.

His eyes were landing everywhere else other than on you. On the large leaves of the potted palms, on the ornate pattern on the gold silk that was swathed across the ceiling, on the intricate hand-painted tiles on the floor.

You’d been trying to carry on a conversation for the past fifteen minutes and were feeling completely on edge when you had to repeat yet another question for him.

The anxious feeling growing in the pit of your stomach had been getting more and more difficult to ignore. You could tell he wasn’t really there, what you were trying to figure out was whether or not he just didn’t want to be there with you.

And god, the drinks hadn’t even come out yet. There wasn’t anything for you to distract yourself with other than your water glass, and even that was already empty except for a few melting ice cubes.

His half answers and noncommittal noises were rapidly clearing things up for you.

He’s breaking up with me.

It was at that crushing realization that the waitress had returned with your drink orders. The bright orange concoction that she set in front of you had been topped with a lovely purple orchid and glittery swizzle stick.

A happy looking cocktail for the girl who thought she was going to have another great date with the guy who was saved in her phone as “Golden Boy”.

“Have you two decided on what you want to eat? Or would you like to hear the chef’s specials again?” the waitress had asked, her gaze bouncing back and forth between you and Bradley.

You could tell that she was sensing the brewing tension between the two of you.

“I don’t think we’ll here much longer, maybe just the check--”

“Sorry, if we could have a few more minutes to decide--”

You’d both started speaking at the same time only to turn to the other wearing matching faces of absolute confusion. He’d gone ramrod straight in his chair, his fingers finally still on the tabletop. The shock in his eyes was apparent, and you could only assume it was there because you beat him to the punch.

The waitress had looked at you sympathetically before saying she’d come back in check in a few minutes and then quickly spun on her heel to take her hasty leave.

It was the look that she’d given you that had really sealed the deal for you, and wasn’t that just great? You wouldn’t have been surprised if the rest of the waitstaff was already hearing about the couple fighting at Table 12 and taking bets about whether or not they’d break up.

Lucky them, dinner and a show.

You’d reached the fruity drink in front of you, the condensation from the glass leaving a ring on the table and took a large sip for moral support. Feeling the weight his stare on you the whole time as you savored the tart taste of passionfruit as it burst across your tongue.

He’d just have to wait. It was your turn to ignore him.

As you’d swallowed it down, it had left you feeling more than a little angry that it tasted so good when you were feeling so shitty. He knew how much you liked an over the top cocktail, why couldn’t he have picked some dingy hole-in-the-wall to do this at rather than ruin this place for you? The hot prickling sensation of righteous indignation filled your chest.

You really didn’t want it to drag out any longer, setting your liquid courage back down you’d met his stare and got right down to it, “If you’re going to break up with me, Rooster, can you just do it now? I’d like to still be able to order Pad See Ew in the future without thinking about you and this moment.”

You removed the napkin from your lap, folding it up primly before placing it back upon the table as you waited for the final nail in the coffin to be pounded in on the remains of the happiest-and-easiest-and-clearly-too-good-to-be-true relationship you’ve ever had.

“Wait, what? I don’t want to break up.” His eyes were wide and searching, the hurt in his voice had been evident. And it was the first time all evening that he seemed to be present with you, like your Golden Boy had finally showed up to the date. “I thought things were going well. More than well, actually.”

“Yeah. I mean, I did too. Until tonight,” you’d agreed, defeatedly. “I’m really confused here. You’ve been completely distant tonight. Not to be vain, but look at me,” you gestured to the sexy lowcut dress you’d worn for the evening. It was something you’d been saving in your closet for the right occasion. And you’d thought it was going to drive him wild, but he hadn’t even given it a second glance.

You’d leaned in a bit, lowering your voice, “It’s a boob and leg dress, Bradley. I look really fucking hot, and frankly, I didn’t even think we were going to make it here once you saw this. It wouldn’t have been the first time we’ve missed a dinner reservation. And you haven’t said a single thing about it.”

It felt like a silly thing to be upset about in the grand scheme of things, but his inattentiveness that evening had stung more than you’d wanted to admit to.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I noticed,” he’d retorted hotly. His eyes had been heated as he’d matched your movement and leaned in further across the table. “Half the men in here noticed it too the second you walked in.”

You didn’t bother trying to hold back your scoff of frustration, the man was infuriating.

“Then I don’t understand why you’re making me feel like being here- with me- is the last place you want to be right now?” You’d given up on trying to sound unaffected, this was not the evening you had envisioned. It felt like being blindfolded on a rollercoaster, unable to see what exactly you were hurtling towards.

“I got my new orders today,” he’d blurted out, his eyes trying to read yours for the reaction. “I’m being send as aerial escort for a diplomatic mission. I ship out next Monday for six weeks.”

He’d told you later that he was grateful it wasn’t a longer one, he knew he was lucky because he could have just as easily been sent away for a deployment longer than you’d actually been together.

“Oh.”

You’d known that that moment would have happened eventually with his job, so you shouldn’t have been surprised. However, it was one thing thinking about it theoretically rather than looking at a ticking clock with a deadline.

“Cards on the table, sweetheart?” He’d waited for you to nod before continuing on, “I am really fucking into you. I’m trying not to put pressure on this, because I’m pretty sure you’re my dream girl. I wanted to take you out for a nice meal, get you a couple of those complicated fun drinks you like. I even looked at the menu in advance, they have one here that they light on fire and it seems like something you would love.”

He was right, it was something that you’d love. You had even eyed it when you first got the menu, but you hadn’t wanted to get anything that would draw you more attention when you already felt like you had too many pairs of eyes on you.

“Then I wanted to take you home with me and tell you after we had a great time out. I wanted to ask you to save that Sunday before I leave for me, so that we could spend the whole day together.” His fingers had started playing that unheard tune on the table again. “I wanted to show my girl the best time, to keep her wanting to come back and to stick around. So that someone else doesn’t catch her eye, so that I don’t lose her to someone better than me while I’m away.”

His confession had your heart taking up residence in your throat. Having him lay it out for you so clearly and knowing that he’d felt as serious about you as you did about him was everything you had wanted to hear. However, one thing nagged at you.

“Bradley, you make me happy. Like really, really happy. I’ve only got eyes for you. If I’m being honest, this stopped being casual to me around our third date. And I trust you enough to know you’d tell me if this”, you’d gestured between the two of you, “wasn’t what you wanted anymore before starting up with someone else. I hope I have that same trust in return, because if you’re worried about me stepping out on you while you’re away, I don’t know how this is going to work. And I really want it to work.”

“Shit, I’m really striking out here. Batting 0 for two,” he’d sighed out more to himself than to you, leaning back in his chair and running his hands through his hair. “Our third? Really? I thought for sure after that disaster that you were going to block my number.” He huffs a laugh, cheeks turning the same shade of pink that they had that chaotic evening on the beach.

“Bradley, it was comically bad.” You couldn’t help but crack a smile at the memory of it. “You were trying so hard and you were so flustered. It was so endearing.”

“Who would have guessed getting attacked by seagulls and coming home covered in sand flea bites could have been so appealing?” He joked self-deprecatingly.

“Me, I could have. Since I was with you,” you said sincerely, “No one I’ve dated has ever put half as much effort into trying to make me happy as you have.”

The two of you exchanged a soft, tentative smiles.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you had a wandering eye or anything, I promise.” His eyes pleaded with you as he reached for your hands and threaded his fingers through yours, his palms slightly sweaty. “This deployment is different for me. I’ve never had to ask someone to wait for me before, never had anyone who wanted to. And I’ve been really in my head because I was trying to find the right way to tell you, to ask you.”

You were still getting to know all of the expressions of his face, but the look of open insecurity he was wearing was new to you. And you’d felt something deep in your chest release and unlock.

For how easily he owned a room, for how confident he could be, getting to see these tender parts of him because he trusted you with them had made you ache in the most bittersweet of ways for the man who was in front of you.

You held his gaze, taking in his anxious expression. How anyone couldn’t want this man or didn’t think he was worth the wait was incomprehensible to you.

“So Sunday the seventeenth, huh?” you’d said with a grin.

His relief was palpable as he’d squeezed your hand a bit tighter, “Yeah, baby, you up for it?”

“A perfect day with my dream guy?” you mused, squeezing his hand back, “Yeah, I think I’d be up for that. I’m up for all of it.”

Not just the date. Not just the deployment. You already knew. With him, you wanted it all.

When the waitress returned a few moments later, Bradley ordered a green curry for himself and the Pad See Ew for you. Along with one of those complicated, fun drinks that arrived with fanfare and flames, all while he played with your fingers.

And after you were finished, she’d dropped off a fluffy looking coconut covered dessert that she’d stated was on the house as walked away with a wink.

You’d totally called it, dinner and a show.

As you’d left the restaurant, he tucked you in close under his arm pressing kiss after kiss to your temple as you made your way back to the Bronco.

And later, when he had taken you back to his place for the night, your boob-and-leg dress forgotten somewhere on the floor, he’d apologized again. This time with his mouth on your body.

Twice.

It had been a fluke, really, finding that record tucked away in that small, but well-kept shop on that Sunday before his deployment.

You’d surprised him with a certificate for a haircut and hot towel shave at an upscale barber for a little pre-deployment pampering. He’d gotten his hair trimmed the day before and he was somehow looking even more sunkissed than usual. His patterned shirt was mostly buttoned up and he had on your favorite pair of jeans- the ones that might have been a bit too snug, but did devastating things for his ass.

It was the outfit he’d been wearing when you had first met.

You and Bradley had spent a lazy, perfect morning at the beach reading and lounging and trading sea salt kisses before changing and to grab a bite to eat. He’d held up a towel up around you to slip into your sun warmed dress, behaving himself for the most part. But you’d still caught him sneaking a peek from over the top of the terry cloth.

After eating a late lunch at his favorite little café that served the best cioppino, you’d popped in and out of the various shops that dotted the boardwalk near the pier. It might have been the bottle of wine you shared, but he made sure to stop at every photobooth you passed along the way, collecting strip after strip of snapshots and tucking them into his shirt pocket.

His hand staying in yours the whole time.

When he’d spotted the tiny record store, he’d cheerily pulled you along with him wanting to look for new additions for his ever-growing collection. It was his newest hobby after getting his mom’s old record player restored. You had even helped him build the sideboard he had specially ordered for it to display his prized collection in the living room of his home.

You could hear him talking excitedly to an associate about some Jerry Lee Lewis albums, who offered to take a look in the backroom for him. You never had good luck when you tried to search for specific things, so you were happy to meander around a bit aimlessly and see what spoke to you.

Casually flipping through the stacks, you’d gasped when you landed on what appeared to be the holy grail of all vinyl records ever made.

“Bradley, look!” You’d held out the record for him like a prize. And he abandoned his own search to come join you on the other side of the store.

“Soldiers’ Sweethearts, huh?” He grinned at your find, his eyes crinkling around the edges. The navy colored jacket highlighted a trio of glamourous looking women, each of the three records featured a different performer and their covers of songs popularized during WWII.

“Mm-hmm,” you’d preened, feeling entirely too pleased with yourself. “You’re a soldier, I’m a sweetheart. I’ve never seen anything more perfect in my life. I have to get it.”

“Well I’m not a soldier, technically,” he’d chuckled, as you’d rolled your eyes at him. The joke had you scrunching your nose, and his mustache grazed you as he leaned in close to press a quick kiss to it. “But you’re definitely a sweetheart, sweetheart.”

You were still trying to learn the ins and outs of that part of his life. But you’d liked how he never made you feel stupid when you had questions. More often than not he seemed excited to answer them for you, that you were interested in what he did.

Rooster gently took your newest most prized possession into his big hands, “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” Flipping the album over, he’d scanned the tracks listed on the back for the three records. “Some classics, but a lot I don’t think I know. Definitely some intriguing titles, like ‘Daddy’,” he read aloud with a raised eyebrow and a grin that could only be described as lewd.

The man was a menace and had no problem finding new ways to make you blush. You were grateful that the shop was empty except for the two of you, as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks.

“What about ‘Who’s Taking You Home Tonight’? Have you heard that one before, sweetheart?” His large body moving in and crowding yours, the smell of his cologne making your thoughts go a bit fuzzy around the edges. Your heartbeat kicked up in tempo as he brushed a piece of hair off your forehead.

That find was definitely a jackpot.

Him and those records.

“Mm, or how about ‘Make Love To Me’?” He’d murmured into your ear, his free arm slid slowly against your waist, making a home for itself low on your back. The warmth from his hand seeping through your dress and into your skin.

It was heady being the target of all his heated words and teasing tone. The pull in your low stomach getting more intense with every moment you’d stayed pressed against his hard body. You could see how his pulse was pounding arditamente con forza, boldly with force, from how close your face was to that thick throat of his. And you had wanted to--

“I knew we had it somewhere!”

The associate’s cheery announcement as he returned from the backroom startled you back into yourself. Feeling flustered you’d tried to pull away, but Bradley just kept his arm locked around you as he’d made his way to the counter.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. We’ll take this one too,” he stated as he’d smoothly placed your Soldiers’ Sweethearts album on the top of the pile he had accumulated. Only letting go of you to pay.

Naturally, you’d wanted to play the record the second you made it back to Bradley’s place.

He set it up for you before giving you a lingering, deep kiss leaving you to your own devices as he worked on the final few things left on his to-do list before his deployment early the next morning.

You were happy to make yourself comfortable on his wide seat couch with an Old Fashioned listening to Jo Stafford’s soothing voice with your eyes closed, wanting to luxuriate in the moment.

One where Bradley was less than twenty feet away puttering around in his kitchen and humming and murmuring to himself.

One where you could call out to him and he would be in front of you in a few long strides.

You wanted to avoid thinking about the next day and the beginning of your new normal.

One where you couldn’t expect text messages from him throughout the day.

One where concern and uncertainty would follow you around like a dark cloud until he came back home to you.

But he was here for now. And you wanted to savor it all, to soak up all of its sweet, syrupy goodness like the expensive cherry in your glass.

He must have sensed the turn in your thoughts because his sandalwood scent gave his closeness away before his voice did, “What do you say, Miss Soldiers’ Sweetheart? Can you spare a dance for me?”

You opened your eyes to see him standing before you with his hand outreached for you. The smile so gentle and open on his face, made it impossible for you to do anything other than wordlessly nod your head in agreement as you’d let him pull you up from your comfy perch.

“Apologies in advance for any injuries caused by my two left feet,” you joked a bit bashfully as he wrapped his arm around you.

“Lucky for us, I was gifted with two right feet. Don’t worry, we’ll even out each other,” he murmured.

He pulled you into his gravity, pressing your joined hands against his chest where you could feel the steady beat of his heart. The hand on your lower back urging closer, closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between your bodies. His chin rested lightly on the top of your head where you had tucked it into that safe space where his neck meets his shoulder.

take me in your arms, and never let me go whisper to me softly while the moon is low

True to his word, he’d guided you in a smooth, easy rhythm. The confidence in his steps as you were held within his sturdy arms was enough to make you feel secure in your own movement. With him you were completely taken care of.

hold me close and tell me what I wanna know say it to me gently, let the sweet talk flow

Your other hand slid up slowly from where it was resting on his shoulder to wrap around his neck, fingers threading through the fine hairs at the nape of his neck as your thumb traced the thick column of his throat.

Come a little closer, make love to me

He held you tighter, held you closer, as the song came to an end. The easy rhythm turning into a gentle sway that continued as the next song began. And the one after that.

That night in his bed he moved against you with such purpose, such tenderness. The sex with Bradley was always stunningly good, he was never content to let himself come until he’d rendered you thoroughly boneless and breathless. He was easily the best you’ve ever had, but that night it was different between you two.

The mood weighty and intense, both of you exposed in a way you hadn’t been before. But there was no mistaking the deliberate way he touched you, the unwavering way he rolled his hips against yours, the unguarded way he held your gaze as if he was committing that moment to memory as he made love to you.

He’d held you close to his warm body, his fingertips leaving trails of goosebumps, as you shivered through your orgasm. His mouth pressed against your ear as he whispered soothing sweet somethings until he followed you over the edge.

For Bradley, you were up for it. For him, you’d be up for all of it.

yesyesyes

Things were a bit too quiet for you.

You heart clenched in a different way when you looked at Penny’s piano on those evenings you spent with the Dagger Squad without him. The ache was still there, but so was a new kind of longing. Part for him, but also for yourself.

But you’d made it through that deployment with the help of your three favorite sweethearts: Jo, Vera and Anne. Although you always queued up one song in particular anytime you found yourself missing him a bit more than normal.

And when Bradley returned back home to you six weeks later, it was easy to fall right back into him. That quiet period was almost too easily forgotten when he was around to fill a space.

That night at the Hard Deck when he serenaded you for the first time, it was normal for him to strut over to the old jukebox to unplug it. His timing impeccable as always, silencing whatever country song Jake had queued up.  

What wasn’t normal was the way he took you by the hand leading you directly to the old upright and pulled you right onto the bench next to him.

There was already some sheet music spread across the shelf, you’d noted as he’d wiped his hands on the outside of his jeans before settling his hands on the keys. It only took you a couple bars of the intro to realize what song he was playing, already completely enamored before he’d even opened his mouth to sing.

It was your song.

Nothing in the world could ever compete with Bradley Bradshaw’s deep, raspy voice singing just for you. The significance of the song meant for you and him alone.

You heart had swelled in your chest until you thought it might burst from happiness. Never in your life had you been so thoroughly swept off your feet. It was a gesture came from his heart that made a home in yours.

Ever the showman Rooster put on a full performance, his aviator sunglasses sliding down his nose as he really leaned into it.

Your wide grin had turned to laughter when a few members of the Dagger Squad jumped in as back-up vocals, singing into their beer bottles in a way that obviously had been rehearsed. You didn’t know how he managed to keep it a secret. While Rooster was a vault in his professional life, when it came to his personal life Bradley couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

The whole bar was having fun with the jaunty tune, some couples dancing along in smooth circles on the sticky wood floor as he crooned. He’d leaned over to place a kiss on your cheek every now and then in between verses, and you’d felt yourself fall for him even harder.

He’d pulled you into his lap once he was done playing, as the din of the resumed chatter softly cocooned you. You’d seen all you needed to know reflected in his eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

“Will you play it again?” you’d asked against his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.” And you rested your head on his shoulder watching his fingers get into position on the keys once more as he played the few opening notes.

Somewhere you heard a groan followed by a grumbled, “Not again.”

“Shut it, Bagman,” you bossed at him, not even bothering to look in his direction. You only had eyes for Bradley.

“You heard the lady,” he chuckled. “Shut it, Bagman.”

And then he played it again.

take me in your arms, and never let me go

You should be asleep in your own bed and not at his place with only the soft light of the lamp above his piano and a now cold cup of tea to keep you company.

Tired of tossing and turning, you’d given up on the idea of getting any sleep at your own place after the second hour of trying. Throwing on your slippers, you’d grabbed your keys and then drove over to his place, still in the oversized t-shirt you’d put on before bed, in hopes that scent of his sheets would help lull you to sleep.

But all it did was make you miss him more.

It was too quiet without his soft breathing next to you as he held you close and tucked against his chest.

Too quiet without his records.

Too quiet without his happy humming.

Too quiet without him.

The sound of the tea kettle on his gas range had helped fill the silence, but it was his piano that had called you as you had waited for the water to boil. The sheet music you had left there from the last time you were over beckoning like a siren’s song.

It was your secret.

Only for a few more days, only until he came home.

You wanted to surprise him, to sweep him off his feet the way that he always did with you when he played for you.

During that first deployment, for the first time in years, your fingers yearned for the feel of cool, smooth keys beneath your fingers.

You hadn’t even told Bradley, the one person who would understand it the most, that you’d been thinking about it. Let alone that you were actually taking classes again. Making up excuses about manicures or errands or spin classes for why you were busy for an hour every Tuesday at five PM.

The thing that had once hurt your heart the most, was now the only thing that helped soothe the ache of missing him. The only thing that made you feel close to him when you were thousands of miles apart.

You wanted that familiar comfort of making music. You wanted it because you missed him, but you also wanted it for yourself.

A co-worker had given you the name and number for her kids’ instructor, Mrs. McMullen, an elderly woman who started teaching after her husband passed away. It took you couple weeks to work up the courage to make the call, the sticky note burning a hole in the pocket of your purse you had tucked it into.

You had been an anxious mess the day of your first lesson, hands shaking like you’d had one too many shots of espresso. It felt strange, a little surreal sitting there in the body you’d grown into on the padded bench in her cozy living room. One of the walls filled with shelves and shelves of sheet music, her own personal library.

And for a brief moment, you were transported to a different year on a different bench in a different room. Now and Then. Older and Younger. Both versions of you there to learn. All too familiar, yet entirely new.

You started with the basics. A reintroduction to those lines on the page and the notes that spoke their own language for those who knew how to read it.

Your fingers wanting to move quicker than your sluggish mind, like an echo of a memory of how it used to be. You winced and apologized after every wrong note, until she put her hand on yours, her skin looked as delicate as her fingers did, and said gently, “We learn by doing, mistakes only mean that you are trying. Once more, once again.”

After that first lesson, you’d gone back to your car and promptly burst into tears. Overwhelmed tears, happy tears. That tender part of you still soft, however no longer aching.

You’d left feeling lighter as you pulled away from her house to go meet up with everyone at the Hard Deck, but also with a packet of sheet music to practice for your next lesson.

When Rooster had told you about getting his new orders, when he had asked you again if you were still up for it. You’d told him the same thing you had at that date, you were up for it all.

You would take the sadness with the sweet any day of the week for as long as he was yours.

You’d known how you would fill the space he left behind. And exactly how you wanted to welcome him home. You’d been excited to put that certain song just for him in your cart, and then tacking on one more song to your order, a song that would be just for you.

Both you and Mrs. McMullen had be surprised at how you’d been able to pick things back up over the months, you still weren’t anywhere as good as you were when you were younger, but it wasn’t nearly as daunting as it used to be. And when you showed up to your next lesson after your songs had been delivered, she was more than happy to help you figure out ways to simplify the songs a bit so that you’d be ready when he returned.

And now you’re bent over Bradley’s piano with a pencil tucked behind your ear as you played through the hardest bit of the song, you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve gone over it tonight. This morning? You were in that liminal space between yesterday and today. Where the time on the clock was just a suggestion because it felt neither here nor there.

You had practiced and practiced the song you had wanted to play for him once got home. You’re pretty sure Mav wasn’t supposed to tell you the significance of that particular song, but it had made your heart flutter wildly in your chest when he’d told you. And every time you’ve heard it since then.

It was polished, it was perfect, it was ready. All you needed was him.

The one you’re playing now con amore, with love, is the piece you pull out when you long for him the most.

The cover of the song had made you think of him from the moment you’d heard it. It was more lyrical and delicate than the original, and captured just how you felt about him. Just how much he meant to you. Sometimes you sing along with it, sometimes you just let the keys and pedals express the things you otherwise could not.  

It was the song of your heart.

Your fingers trip over one of the notes yet again, probably from the lack of sleep, but you weren’t ready to crawl back into Bradley’s comfy bed. Not just yet.

Sighing, you pull the pencil from behind your ear, muttering to yourself out loud as you note the spot on the page. It was already filled with little pencil marks, some older and some newer. All made because you were trying.

Once more, once again.

Breathing out slowly, you settle your hand back on the keys-

“Can you play it from the beginning this time, sweetheart?"

Read {vol. ii} here!

He's a sneaky one, friends! I have Part 2 in the works, not to worry! We have to see how it all plays out! (put intended)

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist for the grand finale!

Here's a link to the Soldiers' Sweethearts Album, if you're curious!

But this is their song, the one Bradley serenaded her with! Jo Stafford's version of 'Make Love to Me'

I ended up making two moodboards for this part!

Here's the more colorful one! And here's the more yearn-y one!

You can check out my other stories here!

And a big thank you to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for letting me spam you about this one!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[rebouks]

Levi’s house was exactly that, a house, not a home. His parents had overstretched themselves by purchasing the biggest, most acceptable place they could find at the time and failed to save much money since, subsequently neglecting its dated interior.

What little furniture they had kept clashed awkwardly with what was left by the previous owners and the dingy, second-hand items they’d purchased upon moving in only made matters worse.

Levi surmised that his parents’ contracts with interior designers and expert decorators in their previous abode was clearly a necessity, rather than mere extravagance. In the occasional moment of clarity, he figured they ought to be grateful they had a roof over their heads at all, but his family’s disdain was contagious and hard to ignore at the best of times.

Following one too many complaints from Tiffany about the state of her room in comparison to her parents, Levi’s mother had recently, albeit reluctantly, allowed her children to refurbish their rooms with thrifted furnishings only; and whilst his sister had used her meagre allowance to piece together a sickly-sweet safe haven, Levi had done the complete opposite.

He’d gone out of his way to find the cheapest, most hideous items he could find, successfully vexing his mother so much she refused to step foot in his disgusting excuse for a bedroom.

[Welcome to Sim-ze voicemail, the person you hav-…]

Levi eventually found his mother outside. She hated the outdoors with a passion and was convinced the sun would ravage her complexion, but it was better than being cooped up in a musty house she had no intention of cleaning.

Nadia was a lady of leisure, of course; except she didn’t know the meaning of the word and all she did was complain. He wasn’t sure what she did all day, but it certainly wasn’t anything productive. The exact opposite of what she expected of her children.

Levi: The fridge is empty. Nadia: There’s cereal in the cupboard. Levi: I’m not eating dry cereal for dinner. Nadia: You’re practically an adult, you can eat whatever you want. Levi: I thought you were going to the store? Nadia: Your father can go on his way home; he’ll be back soon. Levi: How soon is soon?

Nadia: You can survive without a meal for three hours, Levi. Levi: [scoffs] I’m going out. Nadia: You have piano at six. Levi: That’s tomorrow. Nadia: Hm, be back by eight. Levi: Mom-… Naida: Nine. Levi: Fine.

Previous // Next

[misc-magic]

She has arrived.

I have been waiting for the day I could own a piano for over 10 years (after the one my parents got for our family was no longer around). They just delivered her from Wisconsin today. She’s so shiny you can see the cabinet & window in her reflection lol.

She’s quite old (in her 30s like me), but she’s been refurbished and she sounds amazing.

It’s surprising how used to my old keyboard I was. It had a janky stand that didn’t work right so it was very tall. Sitting at a real piano is so much more comfortable. I gave the old keyboard to my dad lol I hope he actually uses it for something.

I’ve decided to name my lady because I am a silly person who likes naming inanimate objects. Her name is Hazel after jazz pianist Hazel Scott. For anyone who doesn’t know her, here’s a video.

Anyway I’m just gonna be over here practicing my own mediocre piano skills and getting used to using a real piano again.

[vashsmunch]

In our solitary room

Millions Knives x Reader

Synopsis: you and nai are coworkers at a local music shop, but recently he's been acting strange

Warnings: none

A/N: i'm sorry y'all i'm having too much fun writing him, i'll write vash stuff later i swear

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───  

It started off with the little things.

Nai had never been a "nervous" person for as long as you'd known him. Maybe that wasn't a reliable timeframe because the two of you had only been coworkers for a few months, but you were good at reading people. You worked with him at a local music store that sold refurbished pianos, amongst other instruments. When you were on break, sometimes he would play songs for you as you quietly hummed along in your head.

He would choose this specific one that you could never place your finger on. It didn't sound like any of the classic pieces you would hear on the radio. His fingers would elegantly glide across the keys in a manner where the melody shouldn't have sounded anything but robotic. But instead, it was sweet and tender; you would almost believe it was a love song if it wasn't him playing it.

There were times when you felt like his friend, but acquaintances would be a better term. For the most part, he kept his emotions locked behind his signature deadpan stare, sometimes accompanied by a condescending smile. You had never really minded this, though. In fact, it just made it more fun to tease him. But recently, that facade of his had begun to show cracks.

First was the incessant tapping of his fingers against any and every surface whenever you were around. It didn't help that he had abnormally well-maintained hands, so his nails would make a repetitive clacking noise every time he would start.

"That's getting extremely annoying."

"So is you referring to me as Hundred Spoons for some ungodly reason, but I refrain from saying so."

After a few weeks of giving him death glares, he eventually stopped. However, it began to devolve into other things. Every time you went near him, he would tense up, quietly holding his breath. There came points where you had to physically shake him to exhale because he started to look faint. You would catch him staring at you from across the store on other days. Maybe he was just trying to tell you something? But whenever you met his gaze, he would turn around and walk in the opposite direction. What the hell was going on with him?

Eventually, you had enough. Nai was lazily skimming some sheet music when you stormed up to him, slamming your hands on the table he was at. He glared up at you, quirking an eyebrow in annoyance. "And to what do I owe the displeasure of having you making a ruckus?"

"Spit it out. Why are you so nervous around me?"

He scoffed, almost looking insulted that you suggested something so outlandish. "Exactly how did you come to that conclusion?"

"Whenever I'm near, you freeze on the spot. Every time I look at you, you're staring back with this dazed expression I can never decipher," You leaned down to look at him and watched him swallow hard. "Look, if I somehow made you uncomfortable, then tell me. We're coworkers, and sometimes we're even friends. I like being around you, so please just say it." Your words bordered on a plea, though you weren't sure why. It wasn't as if you enjoyed his company, the two of you were merely coworkers. At least, that's what you'd thought. But as you stared into his eyes, that was the moment you realized that maybe it wasn't all platonic.

Nai eventually sighed and stood up. As he walked past the table, he turned to look at you in annoyance. "Well? Are you going to follow me?"

"Don't get your panties in a twist, I'm coming," You rolled your eyes as he led you to the back of the store, where there were rehearsal rooms with donated instruments inside. This is where the two of you would spend your breaks, listening to each other practice. He opened the door to one of them and held it, waiting for you to enter first. "My my, what a gentleman." He suddenly let the door go, and you moved inside before it slammed shut on you. Dramatic bitch. He sat on the bench before the piano and looked at you expectantly. You joined him, and as your shoulders touched, a shiver ran up your spine. God, what was this feeling?

He inhaled softly before pressing on the keys, and you noticed he was playing that song he always did. You actually hadn't heard it in a while, so it was a pleasant surprise. There was an unspoken rule between you two that there would be absolute silence when either person was playing. At that moment, the only sounds were from the piano, which was how it had always been. It was times like these when you could just exist without worrying about anything else. Being with Nai allowed you that comfort, a luxury you weren't used to. You and him, doing what you both loved the most.

As he finished, you turned towards him, smiling happily. "You haven't played that in a while. It's my favorite, so thank you," He nodded curtly, and you swung your feet as both of you stayed seated. But there was still something on your mind. "This doesn't answer my question, though. Why are you so afraid to be around me?"

Nai stared at the keys, refusing to meet your eyes. After a few moments, he finally said, "You said you liked this song, yes?" You nodded, and he brought out the sheet music he was reading earlier. Where had he been hiding that? He held it out for you to take, and your eyes glazed over the stanzas. They weren't special, but you flipped through the pages regardless. As you got to the last one, you noticed some words written on the bottom.

For the one I could never say it to.

You looked up, turning your head to look at Nai. He stared back, waiting for your reaction. "What does this mean?"

He sighed, exasperated. "You were acting so arrogant earlier; I thought you'd be smarter than this," He took your cheek in his hand, making you go bug-eyed as you stared at him, jaw slacked. What?? Okay, you had to admit, he was an enigma. But even this was completely unexpected. "I composed the song. I always played it around you because I made it for you. You were correct; being around you made me extremely tense. But it's because I feel things I've never felt before when I'm in your presence. As bothersome and aggravating as you are, you are also everything I've been looking for. Before you came, I was stumbling around in the dark, entirely lost in my head. But now I can see something shining brightly, and it's you. It always has been. I want you to be mine because you are the star I followed to bring me to paradise. I refuse to see you with anyone else because I simply couldn't bear it. I'm in love with you. And more than anything, I want you to feel the same." There was a brief pause before he finally leaned in and kissed you. In that solitary room, hidden from customers and the world itself. And it was nothing short of magical.

[maracujatangerine]

76. Musical Experimentation

CW: emeto, institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump

The park was almost empty during the early morning hour. An older lady in an orange fleece walking her Yorkshire terrier down the wooded path along the stream. A young couple jogging together, the woman reaching up to adjust her chestnut pony tail. A bald man in his fifties bicycling slowly with his black labrador in tow. Apart from them, only Lydia and Coriander walked together across the wide expanse of grass.

“Here it is, Cory!” Lydia pointed to the simple wooden pavilion ahead, just an open deck with wooden supports for the roof in each corner. “This is what I wanted to show you. I found out that the council has refurbished some pianos and placed them around town for anyone to use.”

And indeed. In the middle of the pavilion was a fairly battered, but freshly repainted, piano.

The blonde pet looked quizzically at his owner.

“T-that sounds very nice, Miss Lydia” he said.

”I was thinking that perhaps you would like to try to play it?”

A worried wrinkle creased Coriander’s forehead.

“T-this pet i-is afraid that it cannot, Miss Lydia.” He said regretfully. “I-it doesn’t know how to play.”

“Remember how you didn’t know that you could swim, either?” Lydia smiled. “I just want you to give it a try. It is totally all right if you can’t play.” She held up a hand. “You have to take a seat on the bench. It is all right, it is just the two of us here.”

When Coriander hesitatingly sat down on the duet bench and placed his hands on the keys, she nodded approvingly. “That’s really good. You are doing well. There’s no stress, take as much time as you need.”

Lydia sat down in the grass next to the piano, closing her eyes and enjoying the warm morning sun on her face.

A bumble bee buzzed among some early daisies, a few seagulls called to one another overhead. The faint sounds of a few cars in the distance. Coriander hesitatingly pushed down a few of the keys, first discordantly, then in a cascade from the one side of the piano to the other.

It sounded just as haphazard and unskilled as Lydia thought that she herself would have sounded, if she would have tried to play. She had nearly made up her mind that her hunch was just a guess gone wrong, when something shifted.

The unmistakable first tones of Für Elise floated out over the park’s green lawn.

*

A few weeks later, they walked past a music store when Lydia stopped, hit by inspiration.

“Would you like to go inside, Cory?”

The young man blanched. Almost, but not quite, shaking his head.

“B-but we don’t need anything, Miss Lydia.”

“I know, but maybe you would like to look at some of the instruments? I mean, you weren’t as awesome with the piano in the park as with the tin whistle, but you could still play. Maybe, if you try some more instruments you could discover even more skills?”

The pet swallowed, hard.

“I-it is soon time for dinner, Miss. P-perhaps we s-should go straight home and cook some food?”

Lydia relented.

“Sure, Cory. Let’s go home.” She glanced thoughtfully at all the instruments in the window as they walked past.

Coriander stared down at the pavement almost all the way home.

*

Transcript of audio recording

Several rustling sounds and a thump, from placing the recorder on the table, then Lydia’s voice.

“Cory, today I would like you to look at some different pictures and tell me what you see on the picture. I also want to tell me if you feel anything in particular about the picture, would that be okay?”

“Y-yes, Miss Lydia” Cory’s voice, slightly nervous but obviously eager to please.

“Okay, what is this?”

“It is a tin whistle, Miss Lydia.” A smile in Coriander’s voice. “T-this pet enjoys playing the tin whistle.”

“That’s good.” A smile in Lydia’s voice, too. “So what is this?”

“A trumpet.”

A faint rustle of paper as Lydia changed cards.

“A set of drums.”

“A cello.” A faint, almost undetectable tremble in Coriander’s voice.

“What about this, then?”

“An oboe.”

“That’s really good, I didn’t even know what that was called.”

“An harpsichord.”

“A guitar.”

“Now this is a hard one.” Lydia laughed. “I had no idea what this was. Ready?”

“Yes, Miss Lydia.” Coriander huffed a small laugh. “T-this pet knows what it is, Miss Lydia. That is a theremin.” He sounded pleased with himself.

“You are really awesome at this.” Lydia said warmly. “Only a few cards left. What is this?”

A sharp intake of breath. The faintest moan. The vicious sound of someone vomiting, liquid splashing all over the floor.

After a few moments only dry heaving could be heard on the tape.

“T-this pet is so, so s-sorry, Miss Lydia.” Coriander’s voice faint and shivering. “I-it will clean this up at once.”

“No, Cory.” Lydia sounded shaken, too. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you. Please forgive me.”

Sound of steps and movement, someone fumbling with the recorder and the recording turned off.

In the margin of the transcript, with blue ballpoint pen, Lydia had noted in her curved handwriting. “A violin.”

*

This post is a part of the 2023 BBU Community Days organised by @bbu-on-the-side The last part of this post - the transcript - is my entry for day 10: In-BBU-media.

*

Fun Facts:

There’s a really cool international street art initiative that is called Play me, I’m yours that aims to place pianos in public places that are free for anyone to use. The project started in Birmingham, UK by artist Luke Jerram, but can now be found all over the world. It is particularly brilliant since pianos are often given away for free since moving them is expensive and many people have a hard time finding space for them in their homes. More info can be found here and here.

*

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[rating-bears]

For our NEXT contestant in country bear jamboree week, Gomer!!!!!

(the darker fur is his current look, the lighter is how he looked prior to the 2012 refurbishment!! i included the older picture cuz its a better look at his bee hive!!!)

so Gomer actually Doesnt Sing!!!!!! he just play the piano (and has bees)! he is a classically trained pianist!! i love him so!!!

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5!!! bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

[saradrewitt]

Cirrus and Cirro

Here’s a little bit to what I wanted to design and write for Cirrus and Cirro, because I liked the idea of making different subspecies of ghouls that are residing in the Emeritus Ministry. Some will have more detail than others because I want to try to figure out more as I continue to write but this is what I got for Cirrus and her brother Cirro. If you’d like to know more about Garghouls specifically, there is a small amount of info on there in this link right here

Garghouls Stone Protectors of the Clergy

Cirrus and Cirro were both born in the Emeritus Ministry, carved from their’s mother’s stone (mother’s stone being the same stone used in the abbey’s construction).

Cirrus’s carving was finished first, making her the oldest by a week to Cirro. Both garghouls are the youngest in their little pack due to the church’s refurbishments. While they both are young nither of them have ever stepped down from the cathedral’s roofs. Cirrus is protective of her younger brother despite Cirro being the biggest, Cirro though had a tendency to wander off.

Cirrus began her music endeavors when she followed Cirro into one of the chirps rooms, seeing a piano and messier around with it until it made a high pitched “ping” that Cirrus had grown attached to. The ministry at night would hear random pings of a piano playing, some thinking it was a ghost, but really it was Cirrus playing with the piano and learning how to play it. Cirrus liked playing the piano and had became a killed pianist, only playing for herself. She loved how he moved her fingers onto each key, a sweet sound escaping the instrument fluidly like a river.

One night, while she was trying to find the piano, she stumbled upon a weird object... it was the Keytar...it looked like the piano she’d been playing. Half an hour later she was playing with it, messing around with it until the sound felt right with her. She didn’t like how she had to hold it and she did not like how she had to use one hand to strum while the other mumbled with the synthesizer. It was weird but as soon as she she hit a certain note, that familiar ping she instantly fell in love. She kept practicing both instruments and it wasn’t until a certain Cardinal discovered her...

Cirro, however remained on the rooftop, growing attached to the siblings of the church and wanting to make sure they stayed protected to the displeasure of the rest of the garghouls. During a night of patrolling around, he became victim to one of the youths who trespassed onto the grounds, being shot at with bebe guns and bullets that would chip and crack at his skin. Cirrus kept telling him to stop interfering with the humans but he continued to protect the church.

He became attached to the sisters of sin because some would say hello as they walked into the church during the day. Even if he couldn’t reply in his slumber, he likes how they smiled and waved to greet him, each sibling having a different name for him. they had a bunch of names for home, and he remembers which siblings are which from the name alone. Some call him Rocky, a majority call him ghoul; Kevin, Bob, Stan, Chad, some siblings call him wierdnames like baby, big boy, or hunk. One he is particularly interest in, but he does wonder what a “babygorl” is... either way he loves all of his names. If he was able to wag his tail he would at every call. Some would even greet him throughout the day, which would be his favorite part of the daytime.

“Good morning Rocky!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Steve.”

“Hello, Ghoulie!”

At some point sister’s would see that he would come closer down each passing week, wanting to get close to them and even mess with them:

“Hey wasn’t that gargoyle on the roof like a week ago”

“I could have swore he was on top of that pillar just yesterday!”

I feel like the is a good intro to the different species I have for ghouls and hopefully I can develop more for them as time goes on. I really like the idea so far so hopefully I'll be able to to have the time to write them up and draw some of their concepts to share. Hope you guys like it!

[starrcrossrose]

Sofía’s first piano, refurbished and improved upon by Uncle Tello 🥰💛✨

[bnaturalpianos]

Piano Store NY

Every piano has a unique sound and feel, and without any expert guidance, it is nearly impossible to choose the right one. Visit B Natural Piano & Music School if you want to buy your dream piano and are looking for a piano store in New York. Our team of experts will guide you through our collection of popular models from well-known piano manufacturers.

[eljeebee]

📩 Simblr question of the day: You can answer one or both parts of this question! 1️⃣ Part one: If you make Story posts, what do you do for scenes? Do you build them yourself, do you download lots from the gallery or do you download them from someone online? 2️⃣ Part two: If you make Gameplay/Legacy posts, what do you do for a house? Do you build it yourself, download a home from the gallery or do you download them from someone online? Additionally, do you build onto that home or demolish it and rebuild the house when needed? (E.G When another child enters the picture or someone moves in) ❎ If you do none of those for either half, what do you do? Do you use someone else's save file? (WIndbrook by Folking, Willow Creek + Magnolia Promenade by Theneighborhoodsave, Silent Pines by Silentpinessave... etc)

( freely share this SQOTD around, anon or not, and use the hashtag " SQOTD " ~ 💛 )

Hello Squatty! Thanks for ur hard work!

1️⃣ For scenes, I rely on my own building (and interior) skills. Sometimes, I also rely on the environment outside of a lot. (The wicked whims positioning helps a lot; I also need to try out that TOOL mod).

A scene where I used the WW positioning system to position the Vatore siblings, and Louie and Sidera near the subway which is off-lot.

There is an instance where I had to download a lot off the gallery for a scene:

Planet Honey Pop reno I got from the gallery.

Sometimes, downloading a lot off the gallery isn't just for a scene, but for a whole chapter! (e.g. the Del Sol Vanderburgs' vacation in Sulani where they rented three little huts)

Sometimes, it's best to rely on yourself when trying to build rooms for set dressing when it comes to stories. If you can't build, a shell build is your friend!

This picture is technically not from a story post, but like a character card, but anyway, the backdrop in this picture is actually just a corner of a random lot, but it's a neat set dressing no?

A room with pure black backdrop is also a staple for me for scenes:

The scene where Helen communicates with her niece through the latter's dream.

The "black room" also symbolizes being inside of the mind, just like in this scene where Amelia is speaking to her father through telepathy. The black room has two uses: photoshoot, and mind palace.

2️⃣Though technically The Davis Legacy, and its side stories, is not a legacy gameplay anymore (and had become a story), houses are still important in my posts!

The Davis residence in San Sequoia was built by yours truly, with the help of blueprints! It is my favorite of all, because every room has character, and its walls had grown covered, filled with pictures of the family.

Louie's room was his since his birth.

Mason's first room, when he was a baby and a tot, was across Louie's and it only has one window. The family (or me) moved Sophia's office to the nursery, and the old office was refurbished as Mason's room when he aged up into a child.

Sid's room was the house's parlor room, where the fish tank, and an old piano, was originally kept. They renovated it for her!

I won't demolish this house, ever, because in-lore, Sophia and Jason wanted this house to be their sons' safe haven even if they're old. (IRL, the house is my baby) Since this is also technically generational, it's natural that the children would want to move out and grow their own family, but it's also natural that some of them would want to move back, so there's no demolishing...unless a rebellious heir sold it...😈

The Del Sol Vanderburgs' mansion was a shell I downloaded from the gallery, which I decorated.

This one is another shell I got from the gallery, which I also decorated.

Sanguine, a live-in nightclub (all thanks to a mod), which House Straud runs, is built by me.

The Hibiscus Hut where Perlas lives was also built by me!

The Davises had built their home with the lottery money, aligning it with San Sequoia's architectural designs, and expanded it more when their family grows. It's not as luxurious as the Del Sol Vanderburgs, but it's homey and cozy.

The Vanderburgs screams old money, a house bought by a rich rich family that lowkey serves as a vacation home turned permanent (or is it? 😈)

The Beau-Asvangs has a luxury penthouse because they're vampires, and they're extra, so of course Lady Lana would want to buy a home that is an equivalent to their castle in the olden times. It screams money, money, money.

The Strauds runs a nightclub, which also serves as an occult safe haven (and also a place where occults can exchange information). It has dimmed lights, in the club proper, a lot of seats, funky lights, very atmospheric. Ordinary people would miss the hushed whispers of hidden occults exchanging information...also, they have their own residential tower!

Perlas' hut is humble and simple. She is a mermaid, living in Sulani. She cares little for money and mansions and penthouses, because the real riches for her is her home, the ocean.

From over the top penthouses of the vampires, to old money mansion of the Vanderburgs, to a home built by luck and hard work of the Davises, to a mermaid's humble home by the ocean - to me, all of it reflects your sims' character.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This huge brick 1900 Craftsman in New Castle, Indiana is a fixer upper, but it has such unique features, it's well worth the price. 5bds, 4ba, reduced $10.1K to $289,900.

Large entrance hall with original butternut wood.

The parlor has attractive turquoise tiles on the fireplace and it has beautiful built-in bookcases.

The living room also has a fireplace, plus look at those beautiful columns between the living and dining rooms. And, the owners left an organ, too.

The dining room has double doors to the hall, wainscoting, and a built-in cabinet. They also left a piano. I love the swinging door to the kitchen- it has a little window just like a restaurant door.

I like the table over the radiator here in the informal dining room and it also has a beautiful built-in cabinet.

The kitchen has original cabinets, but one thing confuses me. It looks like they replaced some of the door fronts with plywood. Other than that, it's a wonderful kitchen.

The pantry has this original big honkin' freezer. I wonder if it still works. Even if it doesn't, it's cool and could be used for storage.

Nice remodeled powder room has the original medicine cabinet and a nice pedestal sink.

The finished basement has a rec room with a bar. It needs a floor and I love the stained glass ceiling, but I wonder if it can be refurbished.

There's also a full kitchen down here.

On the landing to the 2nd level is a delicate stained glass window.

At the top of the stairs is a large sitting area with a fireplace. The roof must've leaked b/c all the ceilings on this floor need repair.

The principal bedroom has lovely fireplace with mint green tiles.

The ceiling is damaged in here and it's also affected the wall, but look at the little cubby. Love the doors, too.

This bathroom between 2 bedrooms is original. Look at how beautiful the tile is, and that little font with the faucet in the wall. How unique is that? It has the original sconces and etched mirror on the medicine cabinet.

The bedrooms are so full of light.

The smaller room was used as a child's room.

Look at this bath- love the tile around the sink and the original heater. It has a built-in cabinet, but whatever that wire is hanging down, should be fixed b/c it's not going to pass inspection.

This is nice- a large 2nd level deck.

The attic is a very large finished space but the ceiling is water damaged.

This area need to be finished.

The beautiful outdoor wood features need to be repainted.

There's a 2 car garage, but not much of a yard b/c most of the space was blacktopped. The lot is .25 acre.

[nyxfaei]

Can you tell us more about your oc? They(?) look really interesting!

SORRY THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY INBOX FOR A FEW DAYS AND IVE JUST BEEN FORGETTING TO ANSWER! but doxa is just- a bastard man. hes an (approx) 3500 year old vampire that time has likely changed for the worse. he isnt necessarily mean but he is incredibly self centered and conceited and has difficulty understanding the perspective of others. To him, hes the Most Important Person Ever. there are only a few people that he genuinely cares about- even so, hes still extremely social and fun to be around and will compliment people if something about them catches his eye. (that being said, he has no issues using people for his own gain) Hes very much a hedonist and is incredibly spontaneous in his actions when he isnt scheming something. WHile he doesnt think much of humans (being that it would be an issue since he has to eat them to survive jhdjgjhd), hes still very much fascinated by their culture over the years and has a vast collection of human things. he also has a collection of the skulls of vampire hunters that have come to kill him that he toyed with and now uses for decoration being the dramatic guy that he is.

At some point in the story he realizes how deeply his actions and words have hurt the few people he cares about and also starts to deal with his issues little by little-

other little facts about him:

hes picked up various hobbies and such over the many years hes been alive such as book binding, refurbishing, cooking, etc

he can play the piano and pipe organ

hes one of the original vampires that sprung up on the world a few thousand years ago

he owns a lot of silly clothes (like a worm on a string jacket)

drives a hearse with a "milf moblie" sticker on it

head of a coven

his main "job" is going to other covens and making sure that theyre doing alright and not getting wiped out by hunters

has a beautiful (nearly)7 foot tall romatic partner named dragana who holds all the braincells of the relationship

gender truly means nothing to him anymore. he'll go by any pronouns. people just generally call him "he" and he goes along with it

actual dad

probably tips really well tbh

my voice claim for him is aurelio voltaire... at least for his singing voice

so uh- to sum it up, hes a dramatic, chaotic, stubborn bastard