ids building

I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT IS GOING ON WITH SUN AND MOON ANYMORE AND OH DO I LOVE IT 

god i always think about the time i has to participate in this social psych research and part of it involved the researcher getting annoyed with me and this confederate (who was a research assistant). As soon as the researcher started insulting me and the confederate i realised that it was just part of the research design and that the data they collected from me would be useless bc i could see through the deceit . But also i got triggered and dissociated bc even though i knew it was acting, it still scared me. I wandered out of the lab once i had completed all the tasks but before being debriefed and then realised that i wouldnt get my credit points if i didnt go back up and get debriefed and sign my name off. So i went back up and the researcher was actually pissed off this time bc id just left the building w/o saying anything and also my data was useless bc i had seen through the design and then i got even more scared bc i was like “what if she wasnt acting that first time??” But yeah that confederate is in my stats tutorial and i feel so embarassed whenever i see her bc im sure she remembers me

another nanbaka oc

Name : Arachne vasiliev / spideria by innokenti
Age : 17-18
Ethnicity : russian
Height : 1.74cm
Weight : 66
Blood type : AB

Occupation : inmate (former) guard (current)

Hair color : dark brown (w/maroon tips)

Eye color : violet

ID number : 1333 (former)

Building : 13

personality or so :

Arachne, she’s very beautiful, wise and rational. an honest workaholic with piercing eyes. she’s very serious and bitter, but friendly and helpful. she always have plan B or C D or even E. arachne anxiety is higher than innokenti and she could be called the russian winter or the mastermind. innokenti escaping times were successful because of her plans. arachne body are covered with cuts instead of bruises like innokenti, she self harm but won’t dare to get her hand bloody. she killed her family, and that’s why her ID is 1333. she forbid herself from killing, she regret it.

she is innokenti childhood friend, she often seen with him or alone in her room since she was young and that result in her being almost psychotic than him but hide it extremely well even innokenti don’t know what she’s thinking about. but he often noted that ‘she has a very very dark, cold place in her mind even my mind can’t compete.’ she’s known many thing because of innokenti, for example. cooking, sewing, take caring and friendship.

random :

old clothes : black tanktop with the same zipped white hoodie like innokenti and black jean with black high heel boots.

normal : off the shoulder oversized sweater with stirrup legging, high heel boots.

others : 7 piercing on her left ears, her ID 1333 tattooed underneath her right ear. her right ear have 5 piercing she also have a tattoo string on her right wrist, her left wrist are covered with bandages and so as her left legs. her neck are also covered with bandages because of suicide attempt and self harm. two silver rings on each of her middle fingers.

guard clothes : she have her black jacket tied around her waist, her white blouse unbottom half of it with a loose tie and showed her strappy crop stop underneath with black jean and black high heel boots.

skill or hobbies : sewing, cooking, take caring, do everything quickly and efficiently, shooting, reading and writing, playing sports, drinking vodka obviously, very good at literature and threatening people.

she also wears a dark purple glasses and have long thick silky hair. she’s asexual and her nails is violet. she love having her hair in a side high ponytail or free, she has dark circles and physically and mentally weak making her faint a lot but even though she’s weak when she drank coffee which is her favorite drink after vodka, she’s woke af and could run very fast. unlike innokenti she doesn’t have special ability like turning into someone or turn weapon into another weapon, but she’s very good with needles because of all those sewing making it easy for her to attack people with needles, tantous, guns or knives throwing and her aim is never wrong. she also collected any kind of books, knives, swords, needles, fabric, guns and poisons.

sightreading in band
  • flutes: gotta be on my A game!!! what if i play an f# instead of an f and the director NOTICES?????
  • oboes: i could probably just leave. exit the building. id probably get yelled at but at this point i dont care.
  • clarinets: *gently weeping into the stand*
  • bass clarinets: wOW... quarter notes....... how noVEL.. give us something to playWAIT NO WHAT IS THAT NO
  • saxophones: eh its okay but you know what this legato section really needs??? a jazz riff
  • bassoons: i've been playing candy crush for the past hour and i don't think the director even knows i'm here
  • trumpets: 'did you get that hard bit' *sweats nervously* 'of COURSE i did id have to be some sort of MORON not to'
  • horns: shitshitshitshitSHITHSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITshit
  • trombones: 'did you get that hard bit' 'nah man' 'yeah me neither' *doesn't practice til the day before the concert*
  • baritones: my part is cooler than the trombone part and that's all i care about
  • tubas: *immense foghorn noise* THERE WERE FOUR Fs.
  • percussion: *57 m rest* *hits one thing* *it's late*

medievaldean  asked:

are you still taking prompts? because I have one :two music majors who regularly use adjacent practice rooms at the same ungodly hours of the night/morning AU

Dean whistles, twirling his headphones on his fingers.

It’s absolutely silent in the dark hallway, but that’s how Dean likes it. The practice rooms were a complete mess during the day, all the underclassmen scuffling and scrapping for some rehearsal time—but Dean’s too old for that shit. So he may or may not have bribed Ash to give his ID access to the building past midnight. 

And anyway. Music just sounded better at 2 o’ clock in the morning.

Sammy can bitch all he likes, but Dean’s not worried about getting caught. He’s been doing this for nearly two years, and he’s never seen another soul down here. He’s golden.

He hikes up his bag on his shoulder, and pulls open the door, third one on the right—

And stops dead. Because someone’s already in there.



The dude looks up, a slightly puzzled expression on his face. Dean stares back.

“Can I help you?” The guy asks eventually, raising an eyebrow.

“Um.”

Dean furrows his brow. He vaguely recognizes the guy, remembering the gossip about the new transfer student. The music department was small, and fresh blood was rare. His first day caused a lot of gawking. (Dean may have been part of that gawking too, but nobody needs to know that.)

“The building’s closed,” he ends up saying. Oh, great. Good one, Winchester.

The guy looks him up and down, absently plucking the strings on his guitar. He’s all hooked to the amp already and everything.

"Doesn’t seem to be stopping you.”

Dean blinks a little. 

“Well—”

He shrugs, gesturing around.

“Yeah. I always practice here. This is my practice room.”

“There are three others right next door,” the guy says idly, turning back to his guitar.


Dean narrows his eyes. 

"The tuning’s better in here,” he says shortly.

The guy looks up at that, then glances towards the piano in the corner.

“You?” He asks, his lips curling up slightly. “Piano?”

Dean crosses his arms defensively. “Yeah? And?”

The guy raises a hand. “Nothing.”

He laughs a little.

“You just don’t seem the type.”

Dean rankles. Yes, he knows he doesn’t exactly look the type to be majoring in classical piano, but he’s awesome at it, and he’s already proved time and again that if anyone wanted to give him shit for it, he was more than capable than kicking their ass. Including Mr. Wannabe Rockstar.

“Well, you don’t seem the type to be an douche, yet here we are,” he shoots back.


The guy raises his eyebrows slightly, but doesn’t say anything. Dean spreads his hands.

“Well? You gonna move or not?”

The dude looks around for a moment, as if thinking it over.

"Or not,” he says finally, before going back to his guitar.

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