#steel guitar strings

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

The Everly Brothers - All I Have To Do Is Dream

[whosectype]

lesson learned, don’t play guitar for 9 hours straight

there are still indentations hours later on my left fingertips from the strings they look like this

[jfk-blown-away-blog]

Finally took on the daunting task of re-stringing the old Soviet. It's always a bitch to work with, but it really needed them replaced.

[phantom-does-a-thing]

getting hit with a guitar hurts like it would be a solid weapon

[crplpunkklavier]

i finished practicing guitar and now I have a sharp pain inside my fingers when I press down on things lol

yeah that'll happen bud. the calluses will come eventually but they also disappear again REAL quick if you take a break of a few days. alas being really cool always demands a sacrifice

having played piano since i was 5 has permanently changed the anatomy of my hands too (i can spread my fingers wider than most people. freakishly so), and all the passionate drummers i knew (had crushes on) had blisters and calluses on their fingers as well. that's rocknroll baby

[explodinglotion]

just played a classical guitar instead of regular acoustic and. i fear i misjudged. i kind of really like it and now want one.

[miltonq-lapsteel8a6]

Here's some Jazz on the Oahu Diana 6 string lap steel, by Steve Cunningham. Great musician!

[sautethehorrors]

I had a make up lesson with the woman who owns the music school I go to and holy fuck she actually taught me how to put all the pieces together and start writing a song!!!

The biggest thing I learned was once I've got the chords in mind and have started like blahblahblahing a melody, to find a random book and turn to a random page and just start singing the words from the book.

I dunno how to explain what this unlocked in my fucking brain but holy hell, I feel like I opened a whole new section of my brain.

Anyway the country song is about a cowboy who lives in the eye of a constantly moving tornado in a howls moving castle type contraption. Yes I was really into steam punk as a teenager why do you ask

[classicjdog]

man playing guitar hero with the actual guitar controller is really really fun. no wonder that shit was so popular back in the day. in my childhood i played a decent amount of gh with a normal controller, but playing it on the guitar is definitely more fun, at least once i got used to it

wish i'd inherited my older brothers' talent for the game but twas not to be unfortunately, no 5 star through the fire and flames on expert for me lmfao but i'm still having a lot of fun doing fairly well for myself on hard and barely scraping by on expert

the 2 songs that i've replayed the most so far are hotel california & eruption. hotel california strikes a really nice balance between being really fun & engaging to play while still being totally doable even for someone with my shitty level of skill. like it's not some super easy song where you're just strumming away at the same chord progression over and over for 5 minutes, there's lots & lots of hammer-on/pull-off sequences, but those sequences are very much on the easier end of the spectrum. it is, at least so far, the only song that i've 5 starred on expert, it's really fun and obv it's a super good song too

eruption is also very very fun cause it's literally just a 2 minute guitar solo and it's REALLY HARD. it's so hard that i really shouldn't be able to do it, like it's the final song in the van halen career mode which means the game places it on that same tier of final boss-type songs as like through the fire and flames & jordan & the like, but since it's so short it's actually just barely doable for me. at least on hard, i haven't even tried it on expert lol. it's also the only song where i've successfully done that both-hands-on-the-fretboard thing that i saw my brothers do back in the day. any time it could potentially be useful i'm usually too overwhelmed by the number of notes to even think to attempt it, but i'm pretty sure eruption is specifically designed for you to have both hands up on the neck of the guitar since that's literally what eddie van halen did whenever he played the song irl, which i do think is a really nice touch

[juniesfairies]

Not to do another low hanging fruit observational tumblr post but lately I’ve been thinking about how I’m part of the population who’s missing teeth. And I weirdly get reminded of this whenever I hear other folk guitarists using their long fingernails to pick the tuned down strings with such warmth and sharpness, almost like their biting the strings. I can almost taste the metal, feel my teeth vibrate, my tongue touch the cold, but always where my missing teeth are. I hope the spirit of the teeth that were never able to grow into my mouth safely find purchase in the fingertips on my right hand, into my PIMA, into their own guitar pics. I want to devour and consume my own sounds.

[rodgerdelany]

When I was told that I would have the opportunity to perform at the Texas State Songwriters Championship, I reached out to a handful of friends for song recommendations. Every recommendation was unique. That is, no two songs were the same.

Like every other performer, I wanted to win. I kicked around a number of strategies including hiring a singer and/or leveraging the band to provide a powerful performance. But, I wanted to make a good impression representing who I am as a writer and as a performer. In the end, I decided to keep it simple – an old acoustic guitar performing “Ray of Hope” as powerful possible in order to setup the intimacy of “Alright to Love (Christmas Again).” Despite not feeling 100%, the judges awarded me a prize for “Most Original Style.”

I am glad that I chose these two songs. “Ray of Hope” has been a highlight of the band’s performance for years. And, it is likely to be the title track for my new CD. I look forward to sharing the story and a studio recording of “Ray of Hope” in 2024.

“Alright to Love” is possibly the best song that I’ve written. A competition during the Christmas season presented the perfect opportunity to perform the song and share the story. “Alright to Love (Christmas Again)” is based on a true story. The song captures two beautiful moments early in my relationship with Kim. The chorus was inspired by our first visit to the former Pierre du Pont residence at Longwood Gardens. As we walked out onto the beautifully grounds, I held Kim’s hand and said, “It’s alright to love Christmas.” The line, “she dressed as Santa and danced by the fire,” is from our first Christmas together.

I am including a link in the comments to the version of “Alright to Love (Christmas Again)” that was recorded in at Philly Sound Studios by Rich King and included Mark Rogers’ WSTW holiday compilation (see photo).

Thanks again for all of the encouragement and support both with music and through many challenging times in my life. As I’ve shared previously, it is increasingly difficult to remember when I was miserable. I am blessed to share life’s adventures with the love of my life.

I hope you have a very Merry Christmas and a great new year!!

[abandoned-as-mustard]

Fun habits ukulele playing gives you: automatically strumming a guitar over the fretboard like. Discovering eerie harmonics.

[hypnagogics]

have the teensiest blurb ever i wrote as a writing warm-up ♡ fluffy nonsense! i know we're all in an arcane mood, but i can't forget about my girl. (i promise real writing is coming LMAOO im workin on it)

a cozy night in with ellie williams is more healing than the most researched of therapies. full of love, care, fun, relaxation, they were your favorite nights of the week.

at the end of a long, hard week, ellie knows just what you need. she starts of by preparing you a soulful dinner in advance before you get back—a warm and hearty stew. she sets the table, lights a handful of candles, and makes the atmosphere soothing.

when she hears you trudge inside with a groan of exhaustion, she's by your side within milliseconds, removing your coat and taking your heavy bag off your shoulders, finishing off with a heart-to-heart embrace and a kiss on your forehead.

she's intuitive enough to register your energy levels too, without you having to tell her how you're feeling. the smallest markers on your face set off alarms in her head, and she knows that today is a quiet kind of day. she lowers her tone of voice to a whisper, does not inquire excessively about your day, but just leads you to the dining room where you're greeted by the steaming bowl and elegantly set table.

when you sit down you beam at her, internally pinching yourself at her generosity and wondering what you could have done to deserve her, she was sweeter than honey, truly. your smile is infectious, and her familiar toothy grin plays upon her delicate features. she keeps you company while you both have your meal, then she follows you to the living room, already calculating what she can do for you next.

you slump into the silken cushions of the couch, your voice crackling, “els, could you play something for me?”

you nod at the guitar in the corner of the room, covered in wear and tear but housing a sound that felt like home.

she grabs it and plops down next to you, clearing her throat.

slender fingers creating magic on the steel strings, downy voice caressing your ears, you were enveloped in a momentary calmness.

her husky voice, and the lyrics and melody of a-ha's take on me never fail to woo you, she plays it perfectly. you curl up with a blanket, and close your eyes to intensify the experience.

now in darkness, her music caused shapes and colors to form in your minds eye, you could even hear her love-filled smile.

a lullaby in your favorite place, with your favorite person playing it just for you, you were at ease. your heart felt as if it was about to burst with adoration for the girl on the couch next to you, and you were lulled into a restful state, her music painting a mural in your shallow dreams.

rest up, you deserve it.

taglist: @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ne @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @mascdom @ashaynep @angelynn-nicole @wilddrown @aylabv02108 @lonelyfooryouonly @melsmunch @e11williamsgf @flowrmoth @liddysflyer @fortune777 @brunaedn @funclebunni @infiniteinquiries @mimasroom2 @thekill3randthefinalgirl @kissyslut @autisticintr0vert @mellifluousgirll @uhhscarr @sozvuchiy @kaykeryyy @zzombiegirl @jbimsorry @dearangxl @spncrrdlvr @thatgyalfisher

[aurorawritestoescape]

YOUR BOYS || 800 words

Joel Miller x f!reader, Tommy Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re about to spend the night with the Miller brothers.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, dom/sub dynamic, polyamory, sub Joel, sub Tommy, dom reader, cock ring, cuck chair.

A/n: a drabble, inspired by this ask by @romanarose 💞 aka my first try at writing subby men🫣 kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics Happy Birthday to Gabriel Luna💕

MASTERLIST

You walk into the bedroom where the brothers are already waiting for you. Joel is standing by the window, he’s tense like a guitar string, impatient, ready to rush to you and do whatever you wish, fulfill your every desire.

Not Tommy though. He’s lounging on the bed, back against the headboard, legs crossed at the ankles, still in his boots. He’s an image of disobedience, wildly different from his brother. He loves to be broken. And you love breaking him.

Joel’s in front of you in a second, his big hands on your hips, puppy eyes fixed on your face, waiting for a command.

“Glad you’re home, my love.”

You reach for his lips and give him a kiss. Your heart is beating loudly in your chest but even through its pounding you hear Tommy’s scoff.

The rivalry between the brothers is delicious, a constant battle for your attention, your love, your pussy.

“Have you been a good boy, Joel?” You ask the older brother, raising your brow, and he replies immediately but without words. With haste fingers he opens his jeans and pulls them down mid-thigh. He’s not wearing anything underneath except for a metal ring around the base of his cock that you told him to put on for your arrival. He’s already getting hard, tip fat and red, his balls pushed up at the base and accentuated by the shiny silver. It’s a sight to see! You anticipated your boys wearing them and Joel’s pushing his chest out proudly, showing you that he’s indeed been a very good boy.

You give him your widest smile and then a longer kiss. Joel moans when your hand grazes his member and you gush at this sound.

Getting impatient you take Joel by the hand and lead him to the bed. Stopping at the foot of the bed you glare at Tommy and your cold voice rings in the quiet bedroom.

“Take your boots off my bed. Now.”

Your tone is full of steel and disappointment. Tommy’s eyes get dark. He loves testing you, loves when you degrade him. The praise is always sweeter after a little bit of scolding. He smirks but moves his feet off the bed and then bucks his hips. ‘Is the brat getting hard?’ you wonder. Or is he taunting you with another act of disobedience.

“Show me,” you command, pointing at his crotch with your chin. Tommy takes his time, unzipping his jeans, and then he pulls his cock and balls out. His member is semi hard, free of the ring.

“I ain’t wearing that thing,” he throws at you, holding your heavy stare. His expression screams defiance.

In your peripheral vision you notice Joel shaking his head at his younger brother with disapproval. The anticipation of the night makes your pussy throb, you have so much work to do.

You turn to Joel and take his hand again before leading him to the side of the bed.

”Let me help you, sweetheart,“ you purr to the man twice your size and bend down to take his jeans off completely. Then you motion for him to lie down. He immediately follows your order and soon he’s lying next to his brother, naked from the waist down.

Your tongue slides over your lower lip as you ogle the man splayed in front of you. Joel’s ringed cock is standing proudly, drooling precum down the shaft, and you can’t wait to taste it, to come on it.

“Joel, baby, I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good tonight.”

“Yes, please, my love.” Your words make Joel squirm on the bed and his cock bobs cheerfully while his balls pulsate with the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Now you, Tommy,” you snap your eyes at his brother, “you’ve been bad. Very bad. And bad dogs don’t get to sleep in the mistress’ bed. Chair!”

Tommy’s fiery eyes are boring into you but his member betrays him. A clear drop of pre cum beads on his pink slit and you gloat,

“Aww, look at your poor dick, crying for my pussy. Bet he’s sorry that he’s attached to such a brat.”

Tommy gets up, mumbling something incoherent, and walks to the chair, standing in the corner of the room. He takes the “bad boy’s seat“ and throws his thighs wide, his cock stiff, leaking on his jeans.

You sit next to Joel and caress his wet shaft with your index finger and thumb, slowly gliding them up and down. Joel’s hips fly up but you shush him and look at Tommy.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen tonight. I’m gonna ride Joel’s face because only good boys get to taste my sweet pussy.”

Joel licks his lips and a low growl simmers in his chest.

“Then I’m gonna take his ring off and suck his cock and balls. He can fuck my throat too if he wants.” Joel stirs impatiently on the bed while you continue pumping his cock with two fingers.

“And I’m gonna let him come into my sloppy, tight pussy. Would you love to fill me up, Joel?”

The older brother eagerly nods, almost choking on his words, “Yes, my love, yes—please—yes.”

”And you, Tommy, are gonna watch until you’re desperate. Until you don’t want to behave like a brat anymore. Until you beg for my cunt.”

Thank you for reading! Leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the story <3

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40 @huskyfox5

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

— pairing; vil schoenheit x ramshackle! reader

— summary; in true ramshackle fashion, you confess to vil through a chaotic song, and it doesn't have the intended effect.

— notes; this was fun to write hehe. please donate to my kofi or consider commissioning me if you like my work bc im broke and need cash. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ After weeks of pining, you finally decide to pluck up your courage and confess to Vil in a way that feels grand and romantic — because, of course, Vil deserves nothing less.

❋ You consult with your friends before finally deciding on a grand romantic gesture: a heartfelt serenade under the stars.

❋ Grim, Ace, and Deuce eagerly volunteer to help, sensing both chaos and entertainment in your (poorly thought-out) plan. And you manage to rope in Epel, of all people, to help you compose a song.

❋ You would have been better off enlisting Rook’s help.

❋ Epel takes his role of the group’s lyricist very seriously. Unfortunately, most of the song consists of poetic potato metaphors, given Vil’s penchant of calling everyone by that nickname.

“Your hair is as golden as a potato, it surrounds your face like a beautiful halo.” “You’re the flawless gem in my potato patch; my heart turns to mash around you.”

❋ You think it’s an absolute masterpiece, and none of your friends have the heart to tell you otherwise.

❋ The four of you sneak over to Pomefiore in the dead of night, armed with precisely two things: nerves of steel, and some old instruments you’ve found up in the dorm’s dusty attic.

❋ Grim provides lighting and ambience with his flames, Ace makes a valiant effort to pluck at the strings of his borrowed guitar, and Deuce shakes his tambourine with far too much enthusiasm, it’s almost enough to drown out your painfully off-key singing.

❋ And there you stand in the centre of it all, holding a bouquet of wildflowers (still with the muddy roots attached) and warbling singing your heart out, your voice cracking from nerves and the lack of practice.

❋ Instead of romantic ambiance, it’s pure chaos. Birds startle out of the trees. Lights flicker on in nearby dorm rooms. The nearby students think a murder has just taken place on the grounds.

❋ All the noise music has the intended effect of summoning the object of your affections.

❋ Draped in a pink satin robe, Vil appears at the window, his hair in a perfect loose braid, and a silk sleep mask pushed up to his forehead. Really, it’s unfair how effortlessly flawless he looks even in the dead of night. He doesn’t interrupt your performance but instead folds his arms and watches, his expression caught between bewilderment and judgment.

“You’re the apple of my eye, my sweet potato prince, please go out with me, don’t make me cry!”

❋ You finish the song with a dramatic flourish, slightly out of breath. You’re still holding onto that bouquet, staring up at Vil with wide, hopeful eyes.

❋ There’s a pause before Vil pinches the bridge of his nose with a deep exhale. In a flutter of pink, he descends the stairs to meet you, looking like a queen poised to address her court.

❋ Instead of swooning into your arms, Vil stands before you, his eyes narrowed and his voice a mask of carefully controlled calm. “Prefect,” he begins. “Do you honestly expect me to be wooed by that . . . Performance?”

❋ And you’ve opened up the floodgates; Vil’s perfectionist tendencies take over and he spends the next ten minutes giving a detailed breakdown of how the performance could be improved.

“Prefect, your pitch is horrendous, and you’re completely off-tempo.” “Ace, never pick up a guitar again. Your rhythm was an assault on my ear drums.” “Deuce, why are you even here? Your tambourine skills are atrocious." “And you — Grim! What were you thinking, using fire in such a haphazard manner? Do you want to set Pomefiore ablaze?” “The lyrics are positively horrendous. Who even writes about potatoes in a confession?”

❋ Vil’s lecture lasts for all of ten minutes (Ace kept count).

❋ You remain silent through it all, but you’re just about ready to combust from embarrassment as Vil continues his critique.

❋ Finally, he falls silent with a final, dramatic sigh. "If you wanted my attention, you didn’t need to orchestrate such a . . . Spectacle. Though I will admit, the effort is . . . Endearing. Misguided, but endearing.” He softens just slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he reaches for the bouquet of flowers, careful to avoid the muddy roots.

❋ He turns on his heel to leave, but pauses on the doorstep, his back to you. “By the way . . . I would prefer some red roses the next time you come for a visit.” He disappears back into Pomefiore, leaving the group in a stunned silence.

❋ Wait.

❋ Next time?

❋ Was that . . . An invitation for a second chance? Ace immediately confirms this with a triumphant yell, and you can’t help but grin, feeling like a love-sick fool despite your bruised ego and the lingering humiliation.

[mixsethaddams]

Eddie forgets it’s Valentine’s Day until the literal moment he pulls into the parking lot outside of Steve’s job to pick him up after his shift. The big banner in the window offering their February 14th special offers nearly sent him into cardiac arrest.

It was too late now to flip it into reverse and speed to the nearest garage and buy the first box of candy he could find; Steve had spotted him through the window and was already waving at him. Eddie usually arrived a few minutes early but he got caught up staring through the window at the music store downtown. There was an acoustic guitar he was saving up for on display. It would take him almost a year to get there on his current budget, but he was determined. Now that Eddie thought about it, there was definitely some pink ribbon hanging in that window today. He cursed himself again, realising he must’ve seen a million other literal red flags throughout the day that he’d ignored.

“Think, Munson, think….” Eddie grumbled to himself, wringing his hands around the steering wheel with white knuckles.

Steve was walking towards the van now, and the small red gift bag in his hand killed any hope Eddie might have had that he’d forgotten too.

“Happy Valentine’s, Eds,” said Steve brightly as he hopped into the passenger seat, handing over the bag.

Eddie looked into it and found an assortment of a few of his favourite things. A heavy metal magazine, red twizzlers, a pack of smokes, even some new guitar strings. Ah shit, this was perfect. Eddie felt like hell.

“You don’t have the right guitar for those yet though,” Steve pointed out and sure enough, on closer inspection they were nylon acoustic strings and not the steel kind Eddie used for his electric guitar.

“That’s ok it’s not- Wait, yet?” asked Eddie.

Steve looked giddy as he handed over a piece of paper. It was a receipt of sale and Eddie gawped at it in silence for almost a full five minutes. Steve bought him the guitar he’s been staring at in the window. The note on the bottom said he could pick it up tomorrow.

“This is for-”

“Sure is”

“-that I’ve wanted for months-”

“Sure have”

“-is this for real?”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yes Eddie it’s for real,” said Steve with a sigh. “You’ve been talking about that thing in your sleep, figured this might make you shut up about it,”

“I will never shut up about this,” said Eddie, still staring at the receipt.

Another moment passed and Steve very politely and gently cleared his throat. Eddie snapped back to reality. Steve’s eyes went wide as Eddie kicked into action. He pulled his jacket off his shoulders and threw it at him. He reached down and tugged his shoes off, threw them at Steve too. All the rings on his hands came next, then his belt, and the keys for the van hit Steve squarely in the chest with a light thud.

“Take it,” he mumbled, adding his socks to the growing pile on Steve’s lap. “All of it,”

Steve let out a confused laugh.

“Eddie what the hell are you doing?” he asked, incredulous.

“You can have the trailer too,” said Eddie, fishing candy wrappers from his pockets and deciding if they were Steve worthy. “Wayne will understand,”

Steve laughed properly now.

“What are you talking about, baby?”

“This!” shrieked Eddie, now halfway out of his t-shirt, waving around the receipt for the guitar. “I can’t compete with this! I can’t give you anything like this, so just-” Eddie’s voice got muffled as his shirt got stuck over his head. “-take everything,”

He flung the piece of clothing and Steve’s head and started to unzip his jeans.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” said Steve, shaking with laughter now as he grabbed Eddie’s wrist. “Put your clothes back on, this isn’t a competition,”

“You’re only saying that because you won,” said Eddie with narrowed eyes.

Steve began to hand Eddie back all the things that had been hurled at him over the last frantic few minutes.

“I don’t need anything from you,” said Steve softly. “Especially not week-old candy wrappers,”

Eddie snatched back his socks.

“I don’t….” He said, embarrassed. “I don’t have anything though…”

Steve chuckled.

“So you can buy me dinner instead,” he told Eddie, reaching over to squeeze his thigh. “Now hurry up and take the rest of your shit back so you can bring me home,”

Eddie nodded solemnly and took each item back as it was given to him. He slipped his t shirt back over his head and when he looked at Steve for the last of his rings, he was holding Eddie’s favourite skull ring between his fingers. It was the only one that was big enough to fit Steve. A plan formed quickly, so organically that Eddie was shocked it hadn’t occurred to him before right now. It…was perfect honestly. It wasn’t like he’d never thought about it before, it just never felt like a good time and… Oh yeah, this was definitely the excuse he needed to just do it

“How ‘bout you keep that one, at least?” suggested Eddie. “Make me feel like I’m not a total failure today,”

“You’re not a failure,” said Steve, rolling his eyes again. “But fine, yes, I’m keeping this one,”

Eddie smiled and held out his hand to take one of Steve’s.

“Well then allow me,” he said, taking the ring. Steve offered up his right hand, and Eddie promptly swatted it away. “Other one,”

Steve’s eyebrow raised higher as he hesitantly gave Eddie his left hand.

“Seriously?” asked Steve, suspicious and amused.

“Unless you’d prefer the right hand?”

“No, no, left works,” said Steve quickly, taking his hand back to wipe off any sweat onto his jeans.

Steve shook out his hand and quickly smoothed down his hair. He plucked a stray starburst wrapper from his shoulder and flicked it to the ground. He settled himself comfortably facing Eddie and placed his left hand in Eddie’s waiting palm.

Eddie slotted the ring onto Steve’s third finger and gave it a little pat once it rested snugly against his knuckle, before bringing it up to his mouth and kissing it. A tiny squeak escaped Steve’s mouth.

“How’s that?” asked Eddie with a smile.

“Just what I wanted,” said Steve, looking like he was on cloud nine, and leaning over to kiss him.