c scale

I want to start seeing non-aesthetic-y pictures of practice rooms. don’t show me your sleek black music stand in front of the city skyline you can see through your window. don’t show me the impossible concerto you’re working on and your cup of steaming chai tea. take a picture of your crappy wire stand in the bathroom (because of the good acoustics) and an easy c major scale and a bag of half-eaten doritos on the floor. show me the truth

Arm Wrestles and Attitudes (Peter Parker x reader)

Originally posted by tom-hollcnd

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: Y/N and Peter get caught up in a battle to determine who’s the stronger competitor. Let’s just say, both come out as a win.

Requested: yes (anon)

Warning: language

Word Count: 2098

Here’s a Peter request! Enjoy!!:) Bruce banner will go up tomorrow!!



It was Friday night and you were sitting with Peter, again, alone, again, in the base living room for the fourth night in a row.  Everyone around you was off doing their own thing and you were doing yours. That just so happened to be you sitting on your lazy ass and doing nothing for another consecutive night in a row. You were bored out of your mind and couldn’t figure out anything else to do. So, you dug through the box of old movies and picked one that seemed a little entertaining. Well, you were completely wrong.

Halfway through you wanting to stab yourself in the eye with your straw or falling four stories, Peter walked in and asked you what you were up to. You sighed heavily and explained to him the dreaded movie you were watching, warning him about the pain you were undoubtedly putting yourself through. He shrugged his shoulders and plopped down next to you on the couch.

“God this movie is horrible,” you interjected into the silence stirring around you and Peter as you sat quietly watching the boring movie.

Peter looked over at you in disbelief before sighing and standing up from his position on the couch, “Sadly, you’re right.”

You smile at him and get up as well, brushing the invisible dirt off your jeans before reaching over and grabbing the remote, switching the TV off. You clap your hands together loudly, turning to look at Peter in excitement, “So, what should we do instead?”

Peter shoved his calloused hands deep into his pockets and shrugs his broad shoulders, lips pursing in thought, “I have no idea.”

Your mouth turns down in a slight frown at his discerning thought and you fold your arms across your chest, pacing around the vacant room. There wasn’t much to do on this lonely night, due to the fact it was just you and Peter for the time being. And you could sense it was going to be like that for quite some time tonight. But you didn’t mind, being alone with him was something you wished would happen for months, it as like someone was sending you a sign, to try and make a move on hum before anyone else did.

As you paced, your eyes downcasted to the blue carpeted blue beneath your bare feet, your thoughts driving through the ideas of what could possibly entertain you at this moment in time. Your eyes moved up and across the room, looking vacantly at the surroundings while Peter’s back faced you and is figure wandered across the room as well in thought.

As your Y/E/C scaled over to his figure, you admired his slightly curled, messy brown hair that looked as if he’d bee playing with it all day. His blue sweater clung tightly to his figure underneath and your eyes wandered to the back muscles seen poking through the fabric of his sweater. You smiled to yourself in deep thought, eyes then casting down to his hand, which was balled into fist. Narrowing your orbs, you watched his fist clench and then un-clench in deep thought, taking the veins that popped up underneath the opening of his sweater into account.

Fuck, you never realized how strong and cut Peter could look in a damn sweater. Of course you knew how ripped he was when you ‘accidentally’ walked in on him lifting weights in the workout room last week. You were pretty sure your drool had become evident that day when Peter smirked at your obvious staring. You were pretty sure you weren’t that strong, and one of your powers was super strength. How strong is Peter compared to you? You both had a power of super-strength, but who was the more forceful? There’s no way he could-

That’s it.

As your mind ripped away from your wandering thoughts and sudden idea, you ran over and stepped your attention right on front of Peter. His head popped up from the floor to meet yours in a sudden trap, his brown eyes glazing with curiosity as his eyebrows raised.

Your hands placed themselves on your hips and you brightly smiled before letting out your risky idea, “Let’s arm wrestle,” the words rolled off your tongue in a daring way, eyebrows raising as well in favor of the idea.

Peter’s arms folded over his chest at your thought, pink lips turning up into a slight smirk as he noticed your confident and enlightened demeanor. He didn’t want to hurt you, okay? He knew one of your powers was super-strength, just like his, but he could lift a trailer with his bare hands. He didn’t want to sound cocky, but he was pretty sure you could lift the couch with yours. (lmao peter u asshole).

So, he sighed heavily and stared in your eyes with a snarky look before mumbling out some lame, overused, egotistical, excuse, “Look, Y/N,” he started, reaching over and laying his carved hand on top of your shoulder in a fragile way. Your pulse tightened with anger and your eyes narrowed in annoyance as your shot your head down to look at his hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he continued, his head tilting to the side slightly in regret for you, which made something in your brain click, causing your body to heat up and your blood begin to boil.

Your body tightened underneath Peter’s ego filled figure, jaw tightening at his sappy way to tell you how much better he was than you, “And why’s that?” you forcefully shot back, your hand reaching up to quickly shove Peter’s off your shoulder. His head jolted back slightly at your actions and opened his mouth cockily, moving his jaw from side to side in complete shock at your overwhelming confidence about this.

Peter folded his arms back across his chest and and rolled back and forth on the balls of his New Balance adorned feet before speaking cockily, “You see, I can catch a forty-thousand pound bus with my bare hands, and you caught what the other day? A falling cat?” he reached up and tucked his hand behind his ear, signaling for you to speak up and clarify yourself.

“I saved a falling cat, okay? I caught that forty-thousand pound bus with you, jackass! Who do you think was on the other side?” you sassed back, throwing your hands up in the air as Peter knew he had ignited something in you that he loved seeing.

His demeanor flashed back to seriousness and he stuck his hand out in front of your, eyes sparkling as he was ready to take the challenge, “Deal. I’ll do it,” he said, his large hand vacant of yours for a few seconds.

Your competitiveness got the best of you before your smirked at him, eyes gleaming with anticipation as your reached to grasp his hand in a fair shake, “De-”

But before you could touch his hand in favor, he jerked back slightly and turned his head to the side and his lips curled into an evil smile, “But wait, let’s make a deal.”

You shrugged, mind wandering with thoughts on what he was going to say in favor of himself to win. Shrugging your shoulders in fairness, you urged him to go on. But, with the way his brown eyes gazed into yours, and his barely taller figure scaled yours at his seemingly inched closer to you, something in the pit of your stomach told you this wasn’t going to be good.

“If you win, you get to do whatever favor you desire, but if I win, you have to kiss me.”


As you anxiously across from Peter, your brain was giving off signals as to what you would do if he did win this. And honestly, you had no fucking idea. His bet was pretty solid, allowing you to do anything to him in favor of winning, but his side was a deal breaker. You didn’t know if your heart could stand the anticipation Peter would give you as his lips captured yours in a victory kiss.

“Ready?” Peter asked you, snapping you out of your losing thoughts back to reality. His right hand was up on the table in position, waiting for yours next to it.

Before you answered Peter, you scaled his muscled arms, your body pushing you to do so in a guilty, hormone-crazed way before beginning the match. His sleeve had been pushed up to his elbow, arms veins popping out in every direction as it stood still on the table. Your mouth watered at the drool-worthy veins as your arm subconsciously set itself next to his on the table.

You sighed deeply, eyes switching from regret to game mode as you locked a stare with him, both sets of mouths turned up as you muttered into his intent stare, “Ready as I’ll ever be,” the attempted cockiness dripping off your tongue like venom in the heated and nerve-wracking situation.

Your reached forward and clasped your right hand with his and instantly felt the heat and sparks ignite, dancing up and down your arm in a trembling way. You both attempted to push the ignited feeling to the back of your minds for the time being and clamped down on one another’s hands.

“Go!” you muttered quickly, arm instantly flexing at the sudden movement of strength between both your bodies. You felt the intense pressure on your hand and instinctively pushed back harder against Peter’s hand.

Your gazes never separated as soon as the match started, the deep, captivating brown hit against your glistening, intoxicating Y/E/C and two worlds became one in the intense situation. You could sense your strength slipping in the moment as Peter’s arm began to hang over yours slightly in a winning way.

Push, push, push, your brain yelled at you over and over again in the front of your mind. You felt your teeth grind against each other in a tight feeling, your jaw tightening at the perception of you losing this game.

Peter felt the sweat beads began to forms across the top of his forehead as the heated, sweaty feeling of your hands being pushed together at great strengths started to ignite. His mind only focused on the feeling of his your sweet, glorious lips being placed on his after his win. He didn’t care who was stronger, he just wanted to get a rise out of you. He could sense the heat flooding between your bodies once he got that kiss, your nervous energy radiating off him in a way he couldn’t explain, as he would gently grab your face in his hand and pull you towards him in a searing kiss.

Your mind focused on beating Peter, because you couldn’t take the obnoxiousness of his mouth blurting out every other victory word he could find in the dictionary. Your mind transferred to your hand, your strength growing as you felt your hand squeeze Peter’s harder, your arm becoming over his in defeat.

He sensed his arm limping on him as your face grew wider and wider with every second his strength began to fail, and yours began to blossom. Victory took over your demeanor as you witnessed Peter’s arms lay limp on the table underneath yours. His eyes looked down in misery as you leaped out of your chair and threw your hands up in the air.


Peter got up in defeat, his lips turning into a smile as your happy and glorious win took over your body in a leaping way. Your eyes turned back around to meet Peter’s a guilty yet snarky way as you let out a breath of air from your screaming.

Peter knocked his knuckles against the table and inched closer to you, spreading his across the air in front of you, “Congratulations, you won. What’s your favor of desire?” he questioned, a smirk displayed across his face.

A deep sigh emitted from your body as you inched closer to Peter’s figure, eyes scaling him as your brain wracked for options to plant on the boy in front of you. But, your mean, sneaky desires to cast on him were suddenly vanished as your original and heartfelt thoughts took over as you leaned over and whispered in Peter’s ear confidently, “My desire is for you to claim the win and your reward.”

Let’s just say, neither of you ended in a loss that night. (lol not smutty;) )

Minor Scale Correspondences

Since my major scale correspondences list went over surprisingly well, and since I’ve gotten a few requests, I’ve finally made a minor scale correspondences list to complement it! This is, like my previous post, based off of my personal associations for the scales and how I’ve used them in the past as a music witch, and how I currently use them as well.

Am- Dreams(especially self-introspective and emotional ones), sadness, muted dark orange, and dark grey. Element: Water.

Bm- Divination(especially dream-related or card-related), harsh clarity/truths, muted pink. Element: Air.

Cm- Confusion, revenge, someone lost in themselves/getting lost within yourself, blue-ish lavender. Element(s): Fire/Earth.

Dm- Jealousy, emptiness/void, loneliness, royal blue, dark forest green. Element: Water.

Em- Heartbreak, betrayal, starting over from scratch, dark green, pale brown. Element: Earth.

Fm- Tragedy, controlled(ish) chaos, muted orange, wine red. Element: Fire.

Gm- Acceptance(especially of your shadow self), the color of smoke/fog, moving past toxic events/people/etc. Element: Air.

Here at Best-Hero-In-The-Game we scientifically scale our Junkrats on an extremely sensitive and informative basis between three different stages of Jamieson Fawkes

 - A beast of unknown forms, a singularity, a disturbing menagerie of a man that is a force we humans cannot understand

 - The standard Junkrat, the neutral, and the original

John Kratt
 - The sensual booksmart philosopher, well dressed and exceedingly handsome, our human minds cannot possibly take it

on teachers and lessons and fuck ups

Studying to be a musician is hilarious, because it forces us, esp at college age, to be in a very weird position. Like, we respect, fear, love, and sometimes have grown up borderline worshiping our teachers depending on who your teacher is, but also we sort of have to grudgingly allow our teachers to see us at our absolute worst. Like who in this world has seen you mess up straight up zillions of times? Your teacher. Who is the person you go to for advice when you start hating your instrument? Probably (hopefully) your teacher. Who is the person who sees you, at some point in your life, stumbling into lesson exhausted af, not put together in the slightest, and probably not in any condition to play your instrument? Your teacher. 

And it’s really funny because a lot of the time, if you have a good teacher, when you actually sit down to think about how good your teacher is at their instrument and how much they’ve done, 99% of the time the absolute LAST PERSON you want to fuck up anything in front of is your teacher and yet… here you are… once a week… fucking shit up in front of your teacher and praying that they don’t notice, but they do, and they call you out on it, but typically they won’t punish you or be angry at your humanity either. They feel you. 

The literal very first time I played for my teacher, long before he actually became my teacher, I sat there shaking and so fucking nervous that I actually could not play a C Major scale. C FUCKING MAJOR. I wanted the floor to swallow me up and I looked at him, expecting to die a painful death because I’d been playing for 8 years at that point and I should know, at the very least, how to C Major. He just said, “Hey, you’re okay. You have to understand that the worst you will ever play is for your teacher. It’s like that for everyone and that’s a good thing.It’s just part of getting used to the performance nerves.” I never forgot that. (still nervous as hell every time i enter a lesson tho, but i go into it accepting the fact that at some point in the next hour I’m probably gonna screw something up royally) 

d sharp is not the same as e flat

we’ve been having a sharps vs flats war on this blog, and I have good news for both sides: this war is not about nothing, because sharps and flats are not the same. 

I’m going to paraphrase an article from a 1930s music magazine by sid hedges:

a pianist can never play perfectly in tune. if a piano were perfectly tuned it would be possible to play upon it only in one key. this peculiarity is due to the fact the octave does does not split up in 12 equal parts–and consequently, the semitones are of varying sizes. a piano tuner has to “split the difference” between varying notes so that all of the scales sound fairly accurate. a pianist has to make one note serve for d sharp and e flat, when actually they are not the same. a violinist, making their own notes, is able to observe the proper distinction.

if you sing up the the scale of e major, you will find yourself making the d sharp (the leading tone) very sharp. if you sing up the scale of e minor, you will instinctively make your e flat very flat–considerably more so than the note on the piano. 

a violinist can test the matter with the same two scales. first, they play up an e major scale, ensuring their intonation is flawless, and put a pencil mark on the fingerboard where d sharp is. next, they play a c minor scale and find that the e flat lands about a quarter of an inch below d sharp. 

so, there you have it.


You’ve learned about C-Major scale, sharps and flats, and the music staff. Now you’re going to learn about asshat key signatures. Looking at the figure below you might be thinking “Fuuuckkk this is bullshit I am not prepared to do this shit man,” Well Ima make this as straight forward as that one bitchy friend is. First lets take a look at those hashtag fuckers, sharps, “BUT WAIT! I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE FUCK A KEY SIGNATURE IS!” fuck man you’re right lemme clear this shit up, key signature’s tell us what major scale we’re in, what note we’re gonna start our scale on. Now I labeled these fuckers for you but you’re probably looking at this shit wondering “man how the fuck did they get G major out of 1 sharp?” well buddie, that one sharp we’re look’n at for G Major is F# (read as F-sharp) the next note up from F# is G, thats how you find what scale you’re in*. “okay I can see that but we got fuckn F# and C# Major over there spooking me out” as you can see in F# Major the last sharp in the scale is E# now we’d normally just say “haha its F major!” BUT WAIT, WHATS THIS!? IT CAN’T BE! E# AND F ARE THE SAME FUCKING NOTE! Thats why we cant call it F major, its gotta go by F# Major, its the same idea with C# Major. You can also remember it because F# is already sharped in F# major’s key signature, so it wouldnt make sense to have the note F in that Key. Whatever sharps are in the key signature stay in the fucking key signature.**

Now with our flat homeboy’s instead of going up we’re going down. The way to figure out what key we’re in, when we’re dealing with flats, is to count how many fuckers there are and go one flat down, like in Db Major we got Bb,Eb,Ab,Db and Gb we just look at what flat comes before the last flat in the key signature and its as easy as that! Now you’re wondering what the fuck F major is doing here, we’ll cover that next lesson, but for now just accept it. 

Next Lesson, my least favorite fucker, the circle of 5ths

*Review the order of sharps and flats, and if this isn’t clear contact me

 **Its the same for flats

Musical Witchcraft: Basic Terms and Associations -Western Music

I haven’t yet seen any musical witchcraft posts for those who are very music-oriented, such as those who play instruments or were in a chorus, so here it is! This is based on actual symbolic associations I have learned in music theory, and my experience of being in a school band for 7 years. This post uses the western music theories and scales; I will likely make an eastern one in the future. 

How Music Energy Works:

As music energy is very specific, often written for a specific purpose or theme, it is very difficult to change the inherent properties of a song. If you have a composition specifically about fighting, then it will be very hard to redirect the purpose to things other than fighting; if you’ve got a romantic love song, it can’t be re-purposed for things other than romantic love. Even directing it to related things, such as trying to re-purpose a romantic love song to a friendship song, is difficult, nearly impossible, even for experienced energy workers. Additionally, trying to redirect energy from musical instruments that someone is actively playing is also very difficult: unless that person is part of whatever spell you are attempting, that musical energy cannot be controlled by you at all. I found this out when I tried to redirect the energies from my friend’s clarinet while she was playing.

However, when a song or composition is dedicated to that purpose, the energies it produces are very very strong and focused. Thus you can pick songs for your purpose and expect them to work with a high success rate. And you can also compose your own songs with very high precision on what kinds of energy you would like to produce. 

Overall Associations: 

Major Keys: happiness, wholeness, stability

  • Bb Major is the most stable key, as it is the easiest to tune and stay in tune, even in bands comprising of 100+ people.
  • Of the Major scales, Db/C# Major,  F# Major, and Gb Major are the least stable as they are beasts to tune and stay in tune, even with small bands. 

Minor Keys: Sadness, parts/fragments, somber

Types of Harmonies:

  • Seconds: Dissonant/chaotic/disharmonious; hearing seconds cause a wish for separation (stop playing that!) because it is irritating to western ears
  • Thirds: Balance, harmony
  • Perfect Fourths: Purity, harmony, calm, perfection
  • Perfect Fifths: Completion, purity, harmony

Types of Special Articulation:

  • Legato: Soft, gentle, kind; negatively: weak, pathetic
  • Tenuto: Extending, elongate
  • Staccato: Sudden, fast, rapid; forceful or abrasive in certain contexts 
  • Marcato: Attention-grabbing; grand 

This is just a very basic post meant to be accessible to even beginners in music, so I shall detail more complex parts later! I hope my band geekiness was able to help out some of you!

Weird dream about music notes

There was this class where there were kids/teens, and there were 7 of them. I would say kids, but something happened in the dream to make me wonder if they were around my age.

Okay, so it turns out that the 7 kids (I’ll just call them kids) represented the 7 notes of the C major scale, or rather, the 7 white keys. I noticed that the kid who represented D (or Re), was getting picked on by the other kids. After a while, she stormed out. Since I wasn’t part of the 7, I sought permission from the teacher to check on her. I found her crying in another room and I tried to comfort her and convince her to go back to class.

At this point, I noticed that the kids were more like teenagers, so yeah. Anyway, I was trying to get this person (HOW DO I PHRASE THIS?!) to come back to class. She felt bad that I was missing class, and she whispered to me, “You deserve your FTT.” The FTT stands for Final Theory Test, which you have to pass before you can take your driving test. Okay, so dream me didn’t realize that the real me had passed the FTT before my first driving lesson. Whatever. (I suspect the class was about driving theory, but I don’t actually remember. Also, why would I dream about cars and music in the same dream?)

After she told me that I deserved to pass my FTT (and thus implying that I should go back to class and leave her alone), my dream self sensed that this person had attempted suicide before. Somehow, I knew what method she had tried before. Maybe that’s why she wanted to be alone.

I went back to class, and only C, F, and G were still there. Apparently, class had ended. It was then that I realized the kids represented not only the notes, but the keys of the triads formed in the key of C major. So a triad starting on D is a D minor chord in C major, and a triad starting on F is an F major chord in C major. (I have no idea if I realized this in the dream or upon waking up.) I looked at F (or F major?) for her reaction, but she didn’t seem worried. She was packing her stuff and didn’t seem to care that her friend was upset. C and G were waiting for F to pack her stuff before they left the classroom.

I went back to the room where I had left the human version of the note D, and another realization hit me. The reason I wasn’t part of the 7 was because I represented the C above middle C. Earlier in the day, the tables and chairs were arranged in a way similar to the notes on the keyboard. There were empty desks slightly behind to represent the black keys. C and E, although separated by D, were kinda close. Same with F and A. F scowled at G but waved at A, because F and A form a major third. I sat next to B, but the seating was a little off. And that’s how I made the link as to why I wasn’t part of the 7.

The dream jumped to me making a road trip in a very alternate version of Malaysia. I say alternate because in the dream, Malaysia was below Singapore on the map and the geography was very different. 

And that’s when I woke up. 

(Dream reality is super weird.)

anonymous asked:

How do you deal with people who think they're the ultimate gift to the world because they can play c scale on piano and recognize Vivaldi's Spring??? Help !

tell them to play the third movement of moonlight sonata

Tornando a casa

C'era, sulle scale, la fioca, avara, disperata luce di sempre, per cui gli uomini, rincasando alla sera, sentono il peso della vita.

D. Buzzati, Il crollo della Baliverna [1954], Milano, Mondadori, 1997

Hit a spot of not-so-great mental health again so I’ve sadly still not been up to trying to be active on here again. That said, been playing a lot of private bb matches against competitive people and I am now gaining a reputation as The KIeese Main.