#Greatest riff

[jarofalicesgrunge]

Alice in Chains Concert 1993

[sciderman]

got into an argument with my friend about the movie cause they liked it and i. didn't. i feel cursed and im mostly just annoyed that so many of my problems with it are so easily fixable. but alas. there is no space for character arcs or growth. the MCU demands more cameos

i joked with a friend that if they just added a scene at the end of the movie were sam jackson shows up to actually offer wade an avengers membership proper and wade told sam jackson to fuck off then the entire movie would have been a success for me

[rolloroberson]

The Beatles - Day Tripper

[zprite-x]

There are only two soundtracks from video games that have matched up with songs -that are coincidental rock- which makes me stop dead in my tracks while listening to an overhead radio and make me go “that… that guitar riff… no… it cant be…” with an expression similar to horror but not quite

[raurquiz]

#happybirthday #billmurray #actor #ghostbusters #afterlife #frozenempire #RiffRaff #TheFriend #AntManandtheWasp #Quantumania #TheGreatestBeerRunEver #TheFrenchDispatch #zombieland #doubletap #TheDeadDontDie #groundhogday #moonrisekingdom #thegrandbudapesthotel #theroyaltenenbaums

[thephotopitmagazine]

ZAKK SABBATH ANNOUNCE US TOUR IN WINTER 2024/2025 AND FIRST OFFICIAL DIGITAL ALBUM "GREATEST RIFFS"

ZAKK SABBATH announce US tour in winter 2024/25 and first official digital album “Greatest Riffs”   ZAKK SABBATH will be coming to a North American town near you this winter! Please find all currently announced live dates below. It gets even better: ZAKK SABBATH is going digital! The preeminent BLACK SABBATH tribute band on the planet featuring guitarist and singer Zakk Wylde (BLACK LABEL…

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Stevie Wonder - Superstition 1972

"Superstition" is a song by American singer-songwriter Stevie Wonder. It was released on October 24, 1972, as the lead single from his fifteenth studio album, Talking Book (1972). The lyrics describe popular superstitions and their negative effects. It reached number one in the US Billboard Hot 100 in January 1973 and on the soul singles chart. It was Wonder's first number one single since "Fingertips, Pt. 2" in 1963. It peaked at number eleven in the UK Singles Chart in February 1973. In November 2004, Rolling Stone ranked the song number 74 on its list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time. It was re-ranked number 73 on its 2010 list, and number 12 on its 2021 list. At the 16th Grammy Awards, the song earned Wonder two Grammys: Best Rhythm & Blues Song and Best R&B Vocal Performance, Male. In 1998, the song was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame.

English guitarist Jeff Beck was an admirer of Wonder's music, and Wonder was informed of this prior to the Talking Book album sessions. Although at this point Stevie Wonder was playing virtually all of the instruments on his songs by himself, he preferred to let other guitarists play on his records, and he liked the idea of a collaboration with Beck. An agreement was quickly made for Beck to become involved in the sessions that became the Talking Book album, in return for Wonder writing him a song. Between the album sessions, Beck came up with the opening drum beat. Wonder told Beck to keep playing while he improvised over the top of it. He improvised most of the song, including the riff, on the spot. Beck and Wonder created a rough demo for the song that day. After finishing the song, Wonder decided that he would allow Beck to record "Superstition" as part of their agreement. Originally, the plan was for Beck to release his version of the song first, with his newly formed power trio Beck, Bogert & Appice. However, due to the combination of the trio's debut album getting delayed and Motown CEO Berry Gordy's prediction that "Superstition" would be a huge hit and greatly increase the sales of Talking Book, Wonder released the song as the Talking Book lead single months ahead of Beck's version, the latter being issued in March 1973 on the Beck, Bogert & Appice album.

"Superstition" received a total of 91,5% yes votes!

[yanexcelsior1701]

Where do guitar picks disappear?

[the-kr8tor]

Hi! I've just got back to ATSV and your Hobie fics made me felt like a school girl giggling to myself 😭🤍

I don't know if you still open for request but you may ignore if you feel uncomfortable!

I was thinking about long distance relationship with Hobie, maybe they met in some dating app ( I know this felt weird but like imagine him being bored and randomly download it for fun but then met the love of his life lol )

And one day Reader decided to surprise him on one of his concert 👀

Aww you're so sweet! Thank you so much! I hope you like this, sorry for the wait ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw blood, band au, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

When your long distance partner said that he's in a band, you never expected that he's in one of those bands that plays in sold out venues. Granted that the concert also has other bands playing on the same day in different schedules, nonetheless his band is the one that's headlining the entire charity event. The venue is open air, trees lined around the park with dozens of booths selling merch, and overpriced burritos. At least the free water makes up for the expensive food and the long lines to the port-a-potty.

People are all dressed up for the event walk past you, they're in a complete ensemble, spikes, knee high boots, fishnets and hair that is taller than the luggage you're lugging around. It's safe to say that you stick out like a sore thumb in your comfortable airport clothes. If not then all the stares you're getting is because you have a huge bug on your face or something on your teeth. Maybe you should've gone with your original plan of waiting outside his houseboat like a creep.

You exhale, gathering your courage just like back when you were buying the plane ticket to Camdem. Clutching your bag tightly, you head off to the baggage lockers on the side to drop off your weekend bag before showing your concert ticket to the tired employee.

With a few flight delays on your belt, you were afraid that you'd miss his set. But lo and behold, the second you stepped foot inside, the loud booming speakers are announcing his band. You make your mad dash towards the front of the stage, excitement and trepidation fueling you while you practically squeeze yourself in between the growing crowd. After a few apologies to some people you've accidentally elbowed, you finally make it at the front with only a few bruises here and there. You don't care about the aches the second you see him appear from backstage.

Hobie, your long distance partner of two years and a half is finally in front of you. Well a few feet away from you as there's a bannister and a huge security guy guarding the fences. And yet, you haven't been this close to holding him. Signing up for a dating site wasn't your greatest moment but you're glad you did, if you hadn't, you might've not met the love of your life. You're also glad that his friends dared him into signing up, you feel incredibly lucky that the stars aligned for the two of you to meet.

His band waves to the crowd, faces you've come accustomed to whenever he brings you (his phone while you video call him) to band practices and hangouts throughout the years. Dare you say that they've become your friends too, if not for them encouraging you to finally buy that ticket to surprise Hobie, you wouldn't be standing here with your hands gripping tightly on the railings.

He looks amazing under the bright lights, the spotlight highlights all his best features. Clad in leather, spikes and metal, seeing him behind your phone screen doesn't prepare you for the real thing.

With stars in your eyes, you grin widely. Yet you don't call for him so you don't distract him. Instead, you listen to the first song as Hobie plays a familiar guitar riff. You unabashedly ogle him while you listen to the song you've personally seen the development of.

Sweaty, eyes strained to see him through the spotlight while your ears ring— you probably don't look your best while the crowd pushes the fences wildly. Maybe you should've thought this through, or at least wore something nicer.

Hobie still hasn't seen you amidst the crowd. Continuing to jump and somersault effortlessly around the stage while fans scream and screech his name out. You once again stick out like a sore thumb while you stay in place when everyone else is jumping up and down to the beat. Seeing the lone anomaly, Hobie shields his eyes from the lights to get a good look at the supposed disgruntled fan. He never expected to see your face, his heart feels like it stopped for a second, he tumbles towards a wire that trips him and in turn launches him towards a small amp that also trips him and makes him land flat on his face. If not for his quick reflexes, he might've broken his nose on stage.

The crowd makes an empathetic sound as silence spreads throughout the venue. Some reach out to him as if they would've caught him mid air, and you're one of those people. With a wince, you watch him sit up, trying his best to act cool while he's tangled around numerous wires. He looks silly and lovestruck at the same time when his eyes meet your own. Your name falls off his lips, eyes sparkling under the red spotlights.

You give him a small wave, smiling bashfully at the punk on stage. A stage hand helps him untangle himself while Ned helps back up on his feet. All the while, his eyes never left your form.

“Wanna take five, loverboy?” Ned whispers, patting his best mate on the back. “Fuckin' hell you're bleeding.” The crowd cheers as blood ebbs out.

Even with crimson flowing out of his nostril, pain ebbing through his face, he still manages to grin back at you. “Yeah, make that ten, Ned.” he clasps his hand on Ned's shoulder without leaving his eyes on you. You wink at him. “Better yet, make that twenty.”

Ned rolls his eyes, calling for the medics before gesturing towards you to come around backstage.

—

An organizer gives you a backstage pass, letting you roam around the performers area freely. You play with the lace as your nerves get the best of you. You kinda feel bad for being the cause of the delay, but when your darting eyes see his familiar silhouette, it all melts away.

“Can I get an autograph?” You say, standing under the medical tent while a paramedic tends to his bleeding nose. His head whips towards you so fast, you were afraid that he'd break his neck. “Hi, Hobie.”

A giddy grin spreads on his face, standing up from the plastic chair with tissue paper stuck up his nose. “Hello, love.”

You giggle, crossing the small distance, hands reaching to his sides, waiting for him to hold you. Hobie wraps his fingers gently around your wrists, pulling you close. Toe to toe, he guides your hands on his waist.

“You're taller than I expected.” You utter with fondness, fingers splayed over his shirt, eyes etching his face into the folds of your mind.

“You have legs, and feet attached to your legs.” He says nervously, biting his lip from grinning too widely. “You're as fit as I thought you would be.” Chortling, you pat his chest. Realizing that the tissue papers are still stuck up his nose, he yanks them away quickly, hiding it inside his back pocket as if nothing happened. “You surprised me.”

“That was very dignified of you, Hobs.”

Chuckling, he does what he always wanted to do; hide his face in the crook of your neck. “Was that a deal breaker?”

You scoff playfully, leaning into his touch as he embraces you fully, shyness melting off the both of you only to be replaced with affection. You do the same, face tucked on his neck. He smells like the perfume you sent him when he asked what perfume you always use. And in turn, you smell like his cologne he gifted you a week later.

“Nope, it actually made me more attracted to you.” You feel his knuckles trace circles around your back, nose pressed on your skin. “Sorry that I surprised you, and made you fall on your face in front of thousands of people.”

Hobie gives you a chaste kiss on your jaw before leaning away to cup your face. You feel like you're on cloud nine as he looks at you like you're everything to him.

“Nah, not even close to a thousand, lovie.” His thumb brushes along your cheeks, savoring your warmth like he always wanted to do. You smile, palms on his jacket lapels. “Y’know what's funny?”

“You landing flat on your face in front of hundreds of adoring fans?”

He pokes your side with a chuckle. “I'll never hear the end of that, huh?” You shake your head with a soft smile as he leans closer, you meet him halfway by pulling him by his jacket. “I bought a ticket to your place.” Your eyes widen, tearing up from his words. “I was supposed to fly after the concert and wait outside your flat like a bloody stalker.” Smiling, he closes the distance. “You beat me to it, love.”

“I won.” You kiss him just like how you imagined.

[jarofalicesgrunge]

Layne Staley 1993

[heartfullofleeches]

Mad Scientist Darling + Frankenstein Dog Hybrid Yans - A recluse who's lost many companions over the decades. They haven't the time to shed a tear to the tragedy or the heart to do so either. Their main stick up over their loses was the lack of security to do their work without prying eyes and ears.

"We've seen you down at the cemetery again, Y/n." "Your science is a crime against God, Y/n." "Their body hadn't even frozen over before you took it." What headaches. They had fewer problems when their hounds were alive. Next to zero really with their loyal pets ready to snap at anyone who so much as raised their voice at their master. Sweet angels with their caretaker's safety at heart - god rest their souls. Unfortunately, after their deaths the scientist was unable to purchase more as they had been banned from all pet stores despite never using animals in their research before. Hypocrites.

They couldn't hire any human guards since they'd stab them in the back at the first sihn of greater opportunity. Alone in their study, the scientist had an epiphany. They could have the muscle and brawn of humans, and the loyalty of their hounds by simply merging the too. They weren't a genius for nothing.

A few trips to the local cemetery and morgue here. Some stitches and coding there. Sweat, tears, and more litters of blood than a person should legally be in possession of - and the scientist had their hounds back again. They were alot bigger and definitely more talkative, but they were still the same old loyal pets they once knew. There was one problem however. The hounds seemed to remember alot more of their pasts than intended - yet they never expressed any desire to return to them. The scientist was sure to bury all memories that didn't include them...

"You don't remember me, Y/n?.... We went to high school together and you were my date to prom until you stood me up. I was never able to get over you, and was hoping you'd be at the reunion."

"I was a reporter that followed you around for my big break... You let me stay the night once - after one of your dogs bit me. I kept the scarf you used to stop the blood."

"...It's none of your business..."

These....creatures. How could they have made such a mistake? This experiment turned out to be the greatest, yet most disastrous study of their time. Their pets kept the riff-raff away as instructed, but their mannerisms were - barbaric. Each would happy trot back up to their master's door with a torn limb in their mouth to trade for head pats and the scientists affection. They crowded the human's single bed and referred full rooms of their own. It wasn't uncommon for the scientist to be tackled by whomever was brave enough to encourage their frustration for a few seconds of lovestruck smothering. The loyalty of their hounds and whatever the humans held for them had warped into something truly twisted. The scientist no longer had to worry about outside threat for their security was more danger than any worry the paparazzi may bring

Crackpost under cut

Scientist Reader: Shake?

[Yan hounds shakes their hand]

Scientist Reader: Drop?

[Whining, the hound coughs up an eye into their hand]

Scientist Reader, scratching them behind the ear: Good puppy~ Now - go fetch with the others.

[Yan hound sprints off to continue mauling the screaming trespasser surrounded by the others]

-

[Scientist Reader stands in front of a counter as their hounds stand behind them attached to leashes - jaws snapping at the frightened cashier.]

Scientist Reader: Hello, Timothy. The last time I came in here- I specifically asked for no pickles. We won't have that problem again will we?"

-

Yan Hound #1: wahhh, master - they stole my arm so I couldn't hold your hand when we go out again since it's my turn.

Yan Hound #2, chewing one of their fingers: they're lying

Scientist Reader: It's alright. We'll go shopping for a new one later

[rolloroberson]

Derek and the Dominos

[swiss-mrs]

Black Velvet

Captain Syverson x Country Singer!Reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Unhinged delulus as usual, Fluff AF

Warnings: Brief Song Lyrics (?), Songs Linked in Fic, Sy is in his mid-thirties.

Reader/Unnamed Character Description: No Descriptions Beyond Clothing (Modern Western/Ranchera Wear), No Mentions of Age, Race, Ethnicity, Etc., No Use of Y/N, She/Her Pronouns, Mentioned as "woman" and "lady"

Synopsis: Sy and his hometown friends go out to a bar, and surprise surprise it's karaoke night. This beautiful cowgirl stands out from the rest when she goes up to absolutely nail one of Sy's Greatest Hits.

Pt. 2, as highly requested

“Good to have you back, bud!” a hand claps down on Sy's muscle hardened shoulder with a squeeze as the small group of men walk into a bar.

“Next up, we have,” an announcer says into the mic, “Tanner George singin’ 'That's My Kind Of Night'.'' The boys stop short as soon as they walk through the door, it swinging closed behind them.

“Aye! You ain't say nothin’ about no karaoke.”

“Come on, man. Does it look like I knew?” Sy's friends bicker back and forth.

“Yo, let's just make this stop number one. Make fun of the hogs on stage over a few beers then move on to the next.” a third and final voice rings out. The blonde cowboy pushes through the crew and heads straight to a booth near the bar, farthest away from the stage. The other two friends continue bickering under their breaths as they follow. Sy chuckles and shakes his head, rolling his eyes at the boys.

The plaid shirt man on stage wasn't terrible, but it was obvious he was no singer. Must've been the beer that got him up there.

As Sy walked back to the now occupied booth, he noticed a group of girls whooping and hollering at the man on stage, one of the girls wearing a tiara and “Birthday Girl” sash. He raises a brow at them before averting his gaze.

The boys get their first round of pints just as the man making an ass of himself stumbles off stage. A couple of minutes go by of them shooting the shit, catching up, long enough for three girls from that birthday party to go up and absolutely bucher Shania twice in a row. The boys needed another round alone just to get through it.

Just as they were about to reach the bottom of their 3rd round, the announcer came back up. “Alriigghht, thank you ladies. Next up,” He announces the next act, a soloist, before disappearing stage right. A beautiful woman with a pristine cowboy hat, ironed bootcut jeans, and long sleeve button down shirt tied off in the front. You were breathtaking to say the least.

As soon as Sy catches sight of you, the laughs and voices of his buddies fall on deaf ears. He is utterly focused on you, suddenly and anxiously awaiting your performance.

As you close in on the mic, two girls at the bar start cheering you on. He lets his eyes wander from you to glance at the bar. “You go, girl!” That must be who you came here with, Sy figures.

As the first guitar riff plays through the speakers, Sy's eyes are immediately back on you, catching the tail end of your bashful smile and shake of your head. Good choice, he thought, nodding with an impressed frown.

It doesn't take long for you to start moving to the heavy beat with a scrunched nose. Your friends start going off like crazed fangirls, spurring you on.

“Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell,

Jimmy Rogers on the Victrola up high.” Sy's brows shoot up underneath the bill of his trucker cap. He didn't have many expectations, but that was not what he was expecting. You could sing, like actually sing. You weren't even looking at the screen for lyrics. Your eyes were up, staring at the wall across the bar. It was like you were singing out into an invisible arena, confident and gone to the music.

He was so entranced by your performance that he didn't catch when a question was thrown to him by his friends, trying to include him in their conversation. As soon as they turned to him and realized he paid them no mind, their eyes followed his gaze to you. To say they were impressed was an understatement. They murmured amongst themselves, devising an untold plan.

“Ow!” one of your friends whoop during the instrumental break between the chorus and second verse, the other letting out a whistle.

“Up in Memphis, the music's like a heatwave.” You look out at the crowd of the bar.

“White lightning, bound to drive you wild.” Everyone's returning your gaze.

“Mama's baby's in the heart of every schoolgirl

‘Love Me Tender’ leaves 'em cryin' in the aisle.” Multiple patrons now join in the cheering, bopping their heads and taping silver rings on their pint glasses.

“The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true

Always wanting more,” Your eyes make their way to Sy's direction, stopping his heart for a moment.

“He'd leave you longing for

Black velvet and that little boy's smile

Black velvet with that slow southern style

A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees

Black velvet if you please.” Sy couldn't be sure if you were actually looking at him from this distance, but, Lord almighty, whether you could see him or not did not change the effect you had on him. Unbeknownst to him, his blond buddy made his way out the booth and towards the bar to the girls cheering you on.

“Evenin’, ladies.” The two girls take their attention off your singing and to the man who now stood beside them.

“Hi.” “Heyyy.” They reply at the same time, one a bit more flirty than the other. He puts on his charm, leading against the bar with a heart stopping grin, showing off his perfect teeth.

“I'm assumin’ y'all are together?” he motions to the girls and to you on stage. They both nod.

“And what's it to ya?” Your friend asks with a raised brow, dropping her flirtatious ways and going straight into suspicion. Her change doesn't falter the cowboy'. He had an objective.

“Well, ya see, my friend over there in the trucker hat,” He points behind him, the girls’ eyes following his finger. “seems to be a bit smitten by your girl up there.” He nods in your direction. “He may not look it, but he's a bit, uh… reserved.” He pauses, “He just got back from a tour in Iraq, and I just know he won't have the balls to go up to her himself.” The girls glance at each other, having a silent conversation. Physically, he was totally your type, hell he was everyone's type. “Figured you girls would know best. You think Ms. American Idol would be interested?” he asks. The girls nod to each other.

“She's interested.” They say in sync. 

“He's totally her type.” The cowboy's grin widens at the girl's confirmation. He nods.

“Alright, that's what I like to hear.” He smirks. “I'll send him over.” He winks and tips his hat as a farewell gesture before heading back to his booth. The other two boys watched him. He gives them a nod and two thumbs up as he walks towards them.

You finish the last few add libs to your set as the music fades out. As soon as the track stops, the entire bar erupts with cheers and applause. Though everyone was loud, you could still hear your two friends over the rest. It brings a big smile to your face. You do a small bow and leave the stage, swapping places with the announcer. “Alright! How ‘bout that! Looks like we got ourselves a local superstar in the house!” You look down, trying to hide your warming face under your hat.

You make it back to your spot next to your girls at the bar, them greeting you with obnoxious screams and cheer. “You rocked it!” “Now, was that so hard?” they speak over each other. You roll your eyes.

“Alright, alright. Hush before you get us kicked out.” You stare down at your drink meekly.

“Oh, please! They’re going to have to pay to keep us here after that show!” You laugh at your friends’ antics, taking a sip of your drink and adjusting your hat apprehensively.

“Excuse me, ladies.” The cowboy returns with a broad shouldered, bearded man. Your eyes immediately gravitate towards the man. There’s something almost comedic about how someone who just naturally seems to demand attention and authority looks to be attempting to take up as little space as possible. “What a performance. You sure got a talent on your hands.” The cowboy says to you, grabbing your attention. Your brows raise.

“Oh, wow. Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” Your eyes dance back and forth between the cowboy and the bearded man. An overwhelming desperation comes over you, wanting nothing more in that moment than for him to look at you. The cowboy nudges him in the ribs, nearly making him spill the beer in his glass.

“Ain’t a thing. You must’ve put my buddy under a spell or somethin’.” He chuckles, giving him a stern look, making you smile curiously.

“That so…” You playfully squint over at the man with a small smile. He finally finds your eyes. As soon as his gaze falls upon you, it's like he can’t remove himself from your eye contact.

“Good choice.” His deep southern accent rings through your ears. You could’ve sworn a horse just kicked a hole through your chest. It takes a beat or so for your mind to start working again.

“Thanks.” You say shyly as soon as the air returns to your lungs

“Well, us boys got us a booth over there.” The cowboy cuts in, pointing over to a round table containing two other guys. “You girls are more than welcome to come sit with us, if you’d like.” Before you could say anything, your friends answer for you.

“Sounds good to me, handsome.” Your friend flirts, already grabbing her drink glass and sliding out of her seat. The cowboy smiles down at her with his charming grin, offering his elbow. She threads her arm through his with a smile.

“Sy, you mind grabbing us another round?” The cowboy asks as he starts walking back to the table with your girls. Just as you were about to follow the three of them, your other friend holds up a hand to stop you in your tracks.

“You stay and help him.” You give her a suspicious glare, but all she does is wink and follow the other two to the booth. Now that you and Sy are all alone, you fall into an awkward silence. You turn to lean your elbows up against the bar, Sy is quick to follow, standing next to you. He leans his side against the wooden bar top.

“You from around here?” He asks, breaking the silence. He internally cringes at the cheesy line choice. You look down and start fiddling with your drink glass.

“Not precisely. I just moved here for a job opportunity, staying with my friends until I find my own place. You?” He nods.

“Yeah, born and raised. I just got back from Iraq.” Your brows shoot up as you whip your head toward him.

“Military?” You ask. He nods in response. “Army?” You guess, he nods again. “Well, sir, thank you for your service.” You offer a small smile. He chuckles.

“Thank you. Comin’ back to a free concert was a great surprise.” He says with a smile, holding eye contact with you. Jesus, have mercy. That smile is going to lay you out. You lick your lips, biting back a smile. You blink slowly at him.

“Who said anything about free?” You raise a brow and give him a teasing smile. He chuckles again, looking down bashful before looking back to your eyes.

“You’re right. Sorry, I shouldn’t assume. You take card?” He throws back.

“CashApp.” You squint playfully. You two smile at each other before dropping the act, laughing down at your drinks. “So, Sy is it?”

“Yes, ma’am. Captain Syverson, but Sy is just fine.” He says with a smile. You do everything in your power not to drop to the floor. You nod with a smile. Your eyes bounce between his eyes, down to his smiling lips, then back up to his eyes. You could’ve sworn something shifts in his gaze for a second.

“Well, Captain,” your chin tilts down, and you glance up at him. Your wide eyed innocence and use of his title makes his eyes squint in the slightest. Do you even know how you just filled his veins with fire? “How long you been in?”

“Joined in ‘05. Didn’t have much goin’ for me at 22, so Army it was. Been in for ‘bout 13 years. Was gonna be promoted to a Major about two years ago, but I like where I’m at now.” He shrugs. You tilt your head curiously.

“You turned down a promotion that would’ve gotten you out of gunfire?” You furrow your brows. He chuckles and nods, averting his gaze to his near empty beer.

“Well, when you say it like that, it makes me feel crazy.”

“You an adrenaline junky or something?” You say with an airy laugh. He shrugs with a smile.

“I don’t know about that. Havin’ bullets flyin’ at your head seems a bit extreme for just an ‘adrenaline junky’. I’d say it’s more so about my men. Gettin’ up to Major seemed a little too impersonal when you’re playin’ with mens’ lives, you know?” You nod.

“So you’re a big softy then.” You smile. He chuckles, fixing his jaw and shaking his head.

“Don’t say that too loud.” Your smile grows.

“Why not? I think it’s cute.” His gaze finds yours with that smile.

“Yeah, I’m sure the guys would find it cute, too.” He shakes his head, letting his eyes flutter closed. “I’d never live it down.” You let out a small laugh through your nose. “Enough ‘bout me. How long you been singin’? Are you enjoying your new town?” You take in a deep breath at just the mention of the last stressful few months.

“It’s been quite a ride, let me tell you.” You sigh out. You and Sy spend the next half hour getting to know each other, exchanging smiles, laughs, and the occasional longing glance. You both quickly find that talking to one another is like catching up with an old friend, awkward at first but so easy once you get going. The cowboy from earlier comes back up to bring a hand down on Sy’s back with a loud smack, grabbing both yours and Sy’s attention.

“Sorry to interrupt, but the boys are getting antsy. We’re gonna head out to the next bar. See you outside?” You raise your brows slightly, a bit dejected knowing your time with the handsome army man was coming to an end. Sy’s shoulders drop ever so slightly. He lets out a small sigh and nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.” He responds, depleted. The cowboy turns his attention to you.

“It was nice meetin’ you, little lady. Thank you for the great song. Your friends said somethin’ ‘bout goin’ to the ladies room. Should be meetin’ you back over here once they’re out. Enjoy the rest of your night.” He nods to you with a kind smile in a very cowboy-like fashion, tilting his hat. You mimic his gesture, tilting your hat right back as a farewell. He walks off, heading to the two others outside.

You and Sy stay with each other in a short comfortable silence, both trying to find your next words.

“It was nice meeting you.” “Can I get your number?” You both say at the same time. You share a smile. “Yes.” “Likewise.” You both laugh.

“OK, stop that.”

“I wasn’t tryin’.” He shoots back, faking offense. You giggle. God, what he would do to hear that again.

“You got a phone or a pen?” You ask with a bright smile. He chuckles and nods, reaching for the back pocket of his Wrangler jeans.

“Yeah, here.” He unlocks his phone and pulls up a draft for a new contact, handing it to you. You take it with a smile, filling out the empty slots before handing it back to him. He looks down at the contact and furrows his brows with a grin. He cocks his head to the side.

“Aka Karaoke Cowgirl?” He questions, referencing the ending addition to your name. You nod with a smile.

“So you don’t forget which girl I am.” He gives you another one of his earth shattering smiles and shakes his head.

“I won’t. Matter of fact,” He clicks a couple things before holding the phone up in front of his face, leaning back a little. You hear the phone’s imitation camera shutter go off. “There.” He looks down at the new contact photo. You furrow your brows and scrunch up your nose.

“What? Wait! I wasn’t ready!” You object. He shakes his head, smiling down at the picture.

“No, no. It’s perfect. A little blurry but I got that pretty little smile of yours.” Your jaw goes slack and you give him a look of disbelief. You glare at him but can’t keep a warm cheek smile from growing.

“You better call me.” You squint harder. He smiles at your cute, ‘intimidating’ expression.

“I will. Don’t want you huntin’ me down.” He replies playfully with a raised brow. He’s just so- My goddess, does he know how handsome he is? You could stare in each other's eyes forever but you’re abruptly interrupted by a sharp whistle. You both turn to find the cowboy waving down Sy towards the exit. Sy gives the man a tight jawed look before his eyes soften to you. “Unfortunately, I gotta go.” You nod with a small, sad smile.

“Okay,” Just in time, you see your friends behind Sy, rounding the corner from the bathrooms and walking toward you. The feeling of a calloused, rough hand gliding around yours pulls your attention back to the man in front of you. You look up at him as he brings your hand up to his lips, giving your knuckles a soft kiss. Your lips part and your eyes widen ever so slightly, and he struggles to bite back a smirk.

“Enjoy the rest of your night, darlin’. I’ll talk to you later.” He gives you a charming grin, before bringing your hand down, giving it a squeeze before walking away. You stand there shell shocked, watching him leave. Your friends rush up to your squealing, but you can’t take your eyes off him. He turns back to get a final glance at you before exiting.

“Ahh!” “Oh My God!”

“Holy Fuck!” “Jesus Christ!”

“Ahhh!” “AHHHH!” Your friends talk over each other with screams, getting a smile out of you.

“Oh my goodness, will you two shut up!?” You yell back with an eye roll and smile.

“Oh my god. The way he kissed your hand?”

“Those eyes!”

“That smile!”

“Those muscles!”

“That was so hot! Ugh!” You let out a hearty laugh at your friends’ back and forth. You roll your eyes and look towards the door with a longing look.

“Yeah, he was pretty hot…”

My first Sy fic 🥺💕

Sy would DEFINITELY take that promotion to get out of harms way once you are in a long-term relationship/married and/or with children. 😘

[badnewswhatsleft]

total guitar #160 march 2007 [joe's video]

transcript below cut:

You voted Dance, Dance in at No 57 in TG’s 100 Greatest Riffs, so we managed to collar the dual guitar talents of Fall Out Boy’s Joe Trohman and Patrick Stump to ask them how they write riffs, who they think is the ultimate riff-writing machine and what they deem to be the top five greatest riffs ever written…

Words: Claire Davies, Images: Joby Sessions

When you look at Fall Out Boy or listen to any one of their albums, it’s easy to dismiss them as pop punk scamps who like to mess around on the guitar but don’t take it that seriously. In some respects you’d be right, but singer/guitarist Patrick Stump and his talented co-guitarist Joe Trohman know quite a bit about writing insanely catchy riffs and playing guitar.

Patrick, for instance, doesn’t respect players who wail unnecessarily over a song. “I like restraint in guitarists,” he says. “It’s easy to go overboard and try to be Eddie Van Halen. But here’s the thing: you’re not.” Joe, on the other hand, is completely obsessed with vintage guitars. “I was really into vintage Gibsons, but I just used to break them all the time and it turned out to be kind of expensive. Now I play Washburns ‘cos they have that same wide-neck feel and pickups as some of those 70s Les Pauls.”

One thing they’re both passionate about, however, is writing great riffs and how you - by expanding your musical horizons - can write one with as much groove as Pantera’s Walk…

So guys, why did you choose guitar and when did you start playing?

Joe Trohman: “I started playing guitar because of Metallica. I used to listen to them loads and when my grandma got me the Live Shit: Binge And Purge video I couldn’t stop watching it. I used to play viola and trombone in my school band, but watching bands like Metallica and Smashing Pumpkins made me wanna play guitar. From the moment I got a cheap $50 guitar, I played it all the time.”

Patrick Stump: “I chose drums to begin with, but my dad was a folk singer in the 70s so he always had a guitar lying around. I’d mess around and write songs on it, but I never fancied myself as much of a player. When the band started I ended up singing, even though I was supposed to be a drummer. Then one of our guitarists quit, I had to fill in and it went from there.”

When you were starting out, which guitarists influenced you?

Joe: “Kirk Hammett and Dimebag had a huge impact on me, as did Billy Corgan. I was into a lot of lead players, I guess, but as I got older I realised how important it was to play rhythm as well. People don’t realise how good a rhythm player James Hetfield is. I also love Johnny Marr, who has probably been my biggest influence so far.”

Patrick: “I’m not a huge Stones fan, but I appreciate Keith Richards’ playing ‘cos it’s all about his riffs. Outside of that, my favourite shit as a guitar player is funk; everyone from James Brown to Prince. I also love jazz player Joe Pass, who is one of the only people good enough to noodle on guitar, and Jesse Johnson who was in a band called The Time from the Prince movie Purple Rain. My favourite solo of his is just one note, but the crazy shit he does with that one note is unreal.”

Moving on to riff-writing, how would you describe a guitar riff?

Joe: “It’s a cool guitar part that catches you instantly. It’s something you can play over and over without it losing its edge.”

Patrick: “Yeah, it’s four bars that are simple and that grab you immediately, like the riff from Janet Jackson’s Black Cat. I think a good riff comes down to a good rhythm section. When you look at a guy like Dimebag, he always got right in there with the bass and drums. Pantera were built on a groove as strong and simple as any R&B groove.”

Joe: “Yeah, Walk has to be one of the simplest riffs ever but it grooves, and that’s what matters: what you do with the riff and how much it grooves.”

So how do you come up with riffs, such as the one on Dance, Dance?

Patrick: “We just fuck around until we come up with something. You’ll come up with a gazillion riffs when trying stuff out, but every so often something will jump in front of you. Once you’ve got your four bars, stuff will start happening. With Dance, Dance I was just sitting in the van and we were all talking about The Cure, and I had this idea of a Cure bass line that they never wrote, which ended up being the riff in Dance Dance.”

What’s the best riff you’ve written?

Patrick: “I really like the riff on Of All The Gin Joints. But The Take Over, The Breaks Over from our new record [Infinity On High] is easily one of our best riffs. I wrote it after reading something Bowie said: that he was sitting around one day and decided that he really wanted to write a riff like Keith Richards did. So he wrote Rebel Rebel. After reading that I thought, ‘Fuck! I wanna do that!’”

What, in your opinion, makes a kick-ass riff?

Joe: “A great riff comes from being part of the rhythm and acknowledging that you’re not gonna produce something totally original. You should listen to loads of different music and put your own spin on it. Like on our last album we wrote a riff that was like Panama by Van Halen. We’ve obviously taken influence from them on that song, but we’re not ripping them off wholesale. Instead it’s like paying homage to them.”

Patrick: “When you’re writing a riff you’re part of the rhythm section and you keep up the tempo and rhythm as if you were the drummer. You have stabs as though you were the snare drum and you’re hitting low notes as though you’re the bass drum, but you’re also controlling the melody. At the end of the day, a riff is something that you can hum and it’s a rhythm you can play on drums. If you have both those qualities in your riff then you’re onto something good.”

What do you think are the Top Five greatest riffs ever written?

Joe: “I love the start of This Charming Man by The Smiths, and Black In Black by AC/DC. Walk by Pantera is probably one of the best riffs ever, same as Battery by Metallica, but if you can’t do triplets and haven’t got tons of stamina then it’s hard to play. I also love South Of Heaven by Slayer just ‘cos it’s so evil sounding.”

Patrick: “Satisfaction by The Stones is the be-all and end-all of riffs. I’d also go for Rebel Rebel by David Bowie, Janet Jackson’s Black Cat, the second section of Bohemian Rhapsody and Black Sabbath by Black Sabbath. That one riff alone changed metal as we know it. I also wanna throw in Owner Of A Lonely Heart by Yes ‘cos it’s a great example of having really talented guitarists who still keep it simple.”

Who do you think is the ultimate riff-writing machine?

Joe: “I’d go with Randy Rhoads, just ‘cos I love that riff in Crazy Train. That guy was a genius.”

Patrick: “Angus and Malcolm Young have written so many phenomenal riffs that you can’t do any better than those guys. But I come from an R&B background so I wanna say Prince, just ‘cos Let’s Go Crazy is so awesome. And I also wanna know who wrote the riff to Michael Jackson’s Beat It [TG mentions it was session musician and Toto guitarist Steve Lukather]. Was it Lukather? Yeah, of course it was: he played the riff and Eddie Van Halen played the solo. I wonder why Lukather doesn’t get more recognition? Now you’ve mentioned Lukather, I wanna change one of my Top Five riffs to Toto’s Hold The Line, ‘cos that’s one of my favourite riffs ever!”

How did you approach the guitars on your new album, Infinity On High?

Patrick: “We’re both playing a lot more rhythm on this record, but if there is lead then it’s in much more of a BB King way where there’s a call and response.”

Joe: “My favourite thing about the guitars on our new songs is that I can ad-lib when we’re playing live. I know scales well enough and understand the fretboard well enough to do that. I could never tell you what key something is in, but in my head I know what it is. The cool thing about being in this band is that Patrick and I play guitar really well together, and I’ve learned a lot from watching Patrick and playing guitar with him.”

So can we expect a lot of guitar interplay from you on this album?

Joe: “Patrick also plays piano on this album, so he’s not always on guitar, but we split up a lot of the guitar playing. There’s a solo on The Take Over, The Breaks Over that we split in half when playing live, even though on the record it was done by Chad from New Found Glory and Ryan from Panic! At The Disco. We thought it was cooler to have guest guitarists than guest vocalists. So yeah, we split a lot of the guitar stuff up and switched between rhythm and lead. The weird thing is that I’m always pegged as the lead guitarist of the band, but we always switch back and forth.”

Patrick: “I think in general, I play a lot of the single-note leads and Joe plays a lot of the octave and chord leads.”

Which tracks on the new album best exemplify you guys as guitarists?

Patrick: “The end solo of Don’t You Know Who I Think I Am? Is how I love to solo. It’s real bluesy, which is what I’m about as a player. I’d also say the solo on You’re Crashing But You’re No Wave.”

Joe: “Yeah, that one had a lot of Johnny Marr filler guitar in there, and also Don’t You Know Who I Think I Am? It's filler guitar that doesn’t really jump out at you, but it’s atmospheric and it changes the vibe without you really knowing it.”

Finally, how proud are you as guitarists of your new album?

Patrick: “This is my favourite record because it’s restrained and funny. It’s basic rhythm playing, which is my favourite kind of guitar playing. I’m much happier playing a strong riff 100 times over than playing a kick-ass solo once. We do have kick-ass solos, but the way we write doesn’t always leave that much room for them.”

Joe: “I learned from playing on this album that I don’t need to play solos all the time. I’m proud of the record and proud of the cool riffs and songs that we’ve written together.”

Patrick: “I’m less impressed when someone shows off, and on this record we don’t show off a lot so obviously you should be impressed… I’m kidding!”

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Hazband 2: Band AU

Buckle Up, Buttercups. This is gonna be looooooooooong.

-"Insider Bands" playing on VH666 streaming services on a computer monitor / TV screen sitting on the desk against the far wall-

Charlie: (laying on her belly on her bed and chewing her nails like a cartoon goat chews through a field of grass as she watches the TV)

Riff Rascal: Alright, dudes, dudettes, non-duders, and rock-aholics! That was Simple Plain's newest single "Why Are We Kids?!". Coming up next, our guy, our big shredder, our big bad-

????: Dammit, Riff!!!! Just get on with it!!!

Riff Rascal: Yo, sorry, boss lady! Coming up next, we have our expert in all things metal and shredding, Axel Steelgrave, conducting a super secret, super exclusive interview with one of Hell's latest and greatest! Stay tuned!

Charlie: (whines and plasters her face into the comforter) Fuck! I really messed up! I shouldn't have released that album, guys! What if Vaggie doesn't like girls outside of the metal scene?! Then I'm just the creepy, stalker, pop diva who messages her on Sinstagram every once and a while! And likes all of her posts! And comments on each picture! And-

Razzle: (trying to finish polishing Charlie's hooves after a full pedicure and hoof care) Baap?

Charlie: So? It was only ever mentioned once in a tabloid that she was once in a poly ship with a man and woman before. Nothing set in stone. Who listens to tabloids anyway? She said she was a lesbian in her last interview with Angel Metal Monthly.

Dazzle: (brings up a wide array of nail polishes) BaaaAaaAp?

Charlie: Yes! She messages me back almost immediately after every message I send her, but that doesn't mean the's interested in me. She hasn't been online in a week! (rolls over and flops onto her back, covering her eyes with her arm) Not since Katie Killjoy did that whole news segment on my new single music video and album.

Dazzle: (painting Charlie's hooves in a deep red hue called "Wicked Sinister") Baaaaaaap. BaaaAAaaap. Baap. (clicks his hoof in a way that's supposed to look like a sassy finger snap and blows heated air over the paint)

Razzle: Baap! (scowls) Baaap. Baaa. Baap!

Charlie: Thanks, Razzle. No, Dazzle. I really don't think this is some kind of rebound. I really started liking her during the Battle of the Bands gig over at the Jackpot Hotel and Casino. She was the first person who didn't openly laugh at me being there even though I was the only pop singer there.

-VH666 blares back with a heavy metal guitar riff-

Axel Steelgrave: Hey, good evening, everyone. How's it going? Tonight, we have a very special guest. (camera pans out to show Vaggie sitting next to Axel in an interview chair) Lead singer, guitarist, and rocking girl, Vaggie the Steel Vagina from Fallen Angels.

Charlie: WHAT?!?!?!?!?! (crocodile death rolls around in her excitement and falls out of bed, completely wrapped in a burrito, and worm crawls over to the TV) RAZZLE!!! DAZZLE!!! TURN IT UP!!!

Razzle: (salutes) Baap! (grabs the remote and turns up the volume)

Dazzle: (sad bleats as he looks at the mess of nail polish everywhere) baaaaaap.....

Vaggie: (trying not to snarl at the name) It's just Vaggie, Axel.

Axel Steelgrave: Oh, sure. Sure. Well, thank you so much for taking the time to come and see us. Not gonna lie. We were shocked to hear that you were coming out with a new single so quickly.

Charlie: (plasters her face to the screen) New Single?!?!?!?!?!

Vaggie: (blushes slightly) Well, I figured after hearing the Princess's new album and call-out, I should work on a reply.

Angel: (from behind the camera man) You wouldn't have had ta write and record a whole new song and music video if you just sent 'er a video of you jacking it all week! I've never heard dat vibrator work so hard in its life! I swear I smelled smoke last night!

Charlie: (squeals, gasps, and shrieks all at once and falls backwards)

Vaggie: (jumps up from her seat) Angel! What the Fuck?!

Axel Steelgrave: Well, well, well, I guess that answers my next question. I take it this new single is going to be good news for the Princess?

Vaggie: (still steaming as she sits back down and tries to compose herself) I know you have the video on hand. Why not play it and let the fans see for themselves?

Axel Steelgrave: I couldn't have said it better myself. (to the camera) With that being said, let's take a look at a sneak peek of Fallen Angel's new single: "Dear, Charlie - For Somewhere Better".

-Video cuts to some random point in the music video where Vaggie is standing in black leather skirt that has the leather ripped into strips in a hoola-skirt style, black halter tank top, thigh high leather heeled boots, and black fingerless gloves, holding and shredding a guitar. Angel is a pink, fabulous gay disaster on drums while one set of hands works a keyboard.-

Vaggie: (singing) We'll ignite. Still dreaming wide awake. On the hunt for "Somewhen brighter". Pull me close now, and I'll dream until my dying day. Till we create a new "Somewhere better". The promise of a life. Like a thousand suns inside my broken heart. I can see through your eyes. And embrace the flame that guides me through the night.

-Video Cuts back to the interview-

Axel Steelgrave: (freaking out excitedly) Wow! That's quite the statement! Good on you, Steel Vagina!

Vaggie: Vaggie.

Axel Steelgrave: Before we end this exclusive, is there anything you want to say to the Princess in case she's watching?

Vaggie: (Face falls briefly as her eye widens and a blush colors her face) Oh.... (shakes her head to compose herself, looks into the camera, and makes a telephone gesture) Call me~

Axel Steelgrave: (laughing) Alright! You heard it here first, folks. "Dear, Charlie" will be available on HellTunes tonight at midnight. Thank you all so much for tuning in. And, as always, stay rocking.

Charlie: (finally managing to unravel the blanket and sitting on the floor with a bright red blush) C-Call.... Her.... She wants me to call her... (jumps up and down like a teenager in a bad "not another teen movie" while holding Razzle and Dazzle's hooves) SHE WANTS ME TO CALL HER!!!! (pauses) How?! I don't have her number!

-DING!-

Charlie: (dives for her phone on the floor and opens a new Sinstagram message)

FallenAngelVaggie: Hope you got a chance to watch "Insider Bands" tonight. Talk to you later? Maybe over coffee? XXX-XXX-XXXX

Charlie: (takes a deep breath) SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Vaggie: (leaning against the wall of the VH666 studio, holding her phone against her chest, and taking a long drag of a cigarette)

Angel: Hey! I thought you were quitting! (yoinks the cigarette and plops it between his lips)

Vaggie: Dammit, Angel! I said I'd be done once my case is empty! (digs in her pocket and pulls out an angelic steel cigarette case) It still has four left! I haven't even lit up in nearly six months!

Angel: I know! Proud of you for that. That interview rile you up that much that you gotta wreck six months of hard work?

Vaggie: Ugh! (slams her back into the wall) You think Charlie got the message?

-squeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

Angel: (looks up at the sky towards the Morningstar Mansion where it looks like fireworks are going off on one of the balconies) Oh, I think she got it~

[bixbiboom]

@.marisha_ray: Creator Clash Fight Night Photo Dump.

📸 1-5 : @.mark_lomoglio_photo @.amaliearena

📸 6-10: @.caitlynmcgonigalphoto

Can’t believe it’s already been a week since stepping in the ring. After having so much of my life being about boxing the past year, the sudden downshift has been very bizarre. After taking some time, I think I want Boxing to have at least some small role in my life going forward. I’ve truly come to love it, and I’m so grateful to have had this experience to show that to me. With that, I wanted to thank the incredible people around me who helped make April 15th 2023 one of the greatest nights of my life so far:

To @.idubbbz and @.anisajomha for granting me this opportunity, and welcoming me into @.thecreatorclash family with open arms.

To my coach Josh, and my personal trainer @.danathletics and @.viciperf for being there every step of the way to hone my body and mind.

To @.manzirae for creating my wardrobe… an outfit so dope I truly felt like the badass from Dis that I hoped to be.

To @.themouthguarddoc for my custom mouthguard that truly completed the terrifying look!

To @.ramsiegel for not only being one of my biggest supporters, but for writing a walkout song that put Fred Durst to shame. And of course @.jessemckeil for this gnarly guitar riff and Peter Habib’s musical compositions to make “Pop Pop!” A legit banger of a song.

To @.stevefailows, for waking up early mornings and following me up mountains to document my journey. The final video piece he edited is a treasure that brings a tear to my eye every time.

To @.willingblam for being in my corner on fight night, and (let’s be honest) every night.

And last but certainly not least, my incredible husband @.matthewmercervo. His support was unwavering from day one. From the grocery runs to get me bags of ice for cold plunges, to making sure I had a healthy meal when I could barely lift my arms to cook. He was by my side every step of the way.

The truth is, this list could go on for miles. Everyone’s support is incredible and overwhelming. I hope everyone - from the fighters in the ring, to the fighters being the scenes, are extremely proud of what they accomplished. Creator Clash Fam for life!!