Ps5 Brain Monday

Words to describe facial expressions

Absent: preoccupied 

Agonized: as if in pain or tormented

Alluring: attractive, in the sense of arousing desire

Appealing: attractive, in the sense of encouraging goodwill and/or interest

Beatific: blissful

Black: angry or sad, or hostile

Bleak: hopeless

Blinking: surprise, or lack of concern

Blithe: carefree, lighthearted, or heedlessly indifferent

Brooding: anxious and gloomy

Bug eyed: frightened or surprised

Chagrined: humiliated or disappointed

Cheeky: cocky, insolent

Cheerless: sad

Choleric: hot-tempered, irate

Darkly: with depressed or malevolent feelings

Deadpan: expressionless, to conceal emotion or heighten humor

Despondent: depressed or discouraged

Doleful: sad or afflicted

Dour: stern or obstinate

Dreamy: distracted by daydreaming or fantasizing

Ecstatic: delighted or entranced

Faint: cowardly, weak, or barely perceptible

Fixed: concentrated or immobile

Gazing: staring intently

Glancing: staring briefly as if curious but evasive

Glazed: expressionless due to fatigue or confusion

Grim: fatalistic or pessimistic

Grave: serious, expressing emotion due to loss or sadness

Haunted: frightened, worried, or guilty

Hopeless: depressed by a lack of encouragement or optimism

Hostile: aggressively angry, intimidating, or resistant

Hunted: tense as if worried about pursuit

Jeering: insulting or mocking

Languid: lazy or weak

Leering: sexually suggestive

Mild: easygoing

Mischievous: annoyingly or maliciously playful

Pained: affected with discomfort or pain

Peering: with curiosity or suspicion

Peeved: annoyed

Pleading: seeking apology or assistance

Quizzical: questioning or confused

Radiant: bright, happy

Sanguine: bloodthirsty, confident

Sardonic: mocking

Sour: unpleasant

Sullen: resentful

Vacant: blank or stupid looking

Wan: pale, sickly

Wary: cautious or cunning

Wide eyed: frightened or surprised

Withering: devastating

Wrathful: indignant or vengeful

Wry: twisted or crooked to express cleverness or a dark or ironic feeling

Hello please reblog this if you’re okay with people sending you random asks to get to know you better

Dimple & Ritsu mess up and try to recover, taken from the second Mob Psycho 100 stage play (context)

Full play now available!

Lines of grey ch 2

The humanoid monster kept walking, running almost, trying to lead the lost girl out from the mess of the void and anti-void. The creature, blades black as the void sticking from its back, and two orbs of the anti-void in place for its eyes, ran from the grey lines between into a brown forest, not a leaf of green to bless its canopy. “Hey! Wait! Where are you going! You haven’t told me anything yet!” The girl ran, calling after the strangely fast broken creature as it disappeared into the backdrop of the brown forest. The girl paused, stopping at the border between the brown forest and the lines between the voids. She strained and peering at the brown mass of decay and rot, looking and searching for the black blades hewn from the void stabbed in the creatures back, or for the two white orbs pulled from the light of the anti-void. At last she found them, the blades hung in mid air, as the white orbs stared back at her. A cursed butterfly of death she ran after it, the blades of void fluttering through the air as its eyes of white glowed and cast shadows on the trees that couldn’t be seen through the brown of the decaying forest. The girl ran and ran after them, following their light as she traversed the maddeningly blank of this forest. The butterfly flew, casting the shadows on the tree, and still the girl ran, touching each tree the butterfly shone upon; her hands picking up spots of the brown ick upon her hands and shoes. Finally she ran out of the forest, onto a  grey background. Large hewn stones invisible against the greys and marbled browns of the rock. The girl stuck out like a flower upon fresh fallen white snow, espoused, raptured, cast upon a place she did not belong. The brown of the forest and the grey of the lines having been tracked along her path by her shoes as she walked carefully and slowly through the stones, glimpses of the butterfly sitting on a red rock making it to her eyes through the grey of the stones. With every stone she touched a little mark of brown was left, her trail being followed by the creatures of the back drop. She could only here them, foot steps, paw steps, the warnings this place mercifully gave to those in danger. She begin to move faster, her steps varied and spread, her path muzzled and marked, mixing into the painted grey of the rocks. Still she made her way to the clearing where the butterfly sat, finally finding herself there, she raised her voice. “Alright, enough running, things are following me now, what is it you need me to know?” She called to the butterfly, its ethereal form fluttering on the rock. “You’ve already learned all you need, your doing it right now, marking the path forward, marking the way ahead. Your feet, odd they may be, pick up the paint of other lands, and leave it behind you when you step. Your hands, delicate and useless as they are, pick up and move the paints of the lands as you move from object to object. You do everything that I could have ever asked of you.” She stuttered, faltering. Her legs giving out beneath her, panic screaming in her mind. A rock, cracks next to her, crumbling and failing to hold itself. She reached over, to the stone. A blue blade, standing there perfectly for her to take. Shakily she raised a hand, taking the blade in her hand. Its blue paint staining her hand over the brown and grey she had unknowingly marked it with. She heard the foot print of a creature of grey right behind her, and swung, striking the creature a deep mark with the bright blue painted blade. Swinging it in front of her she ran into the grey rock stone lands around her, cutting any stone she ran into in half with that mythical blade. Leaving marks of blue, brown, grey, black, and white where every she swung, stepped, and rested upon. Running, just running now. She had come upon a grass green land, a bright blue sky above and a green grass like turf beneath her she kept running. The creatures of grey did not follow here as she did, standing alone now, she scanned the blue for any semblance of an objective. There was nothing now, the grey stone lands were far behind her now, and the decaying brown forest had left her before that. The butterfly and its blade wing, and gleaming eyes did not follow her when she left, instead it stayed and sat till she supposed it sated its wish to sit upon the red stone. So sat she did too, waiting, watching the horizon of unchanging sky blue. “Marking the path forward huh… Alright, then that’s what I’ll do. There’s got to be some sort of intelligent creature around here, a society of those rat things or a people of the butterflies. Either way, I don’t feel like being lost into this green and become one of those creatures that was chasing me.” She stood up, seeing the multi-colored path she left behind her, and began to walk in the same direction, walking away from her own laced path. Leaving steps like walking stones behind her, as she was finding her way to the edge of the green, where a small cottage of yellow sat in that color and shade. A single yellow mark upon the green grass and blue sky. —- —- —- Hey everyone! Here you go! Hope you all like it! Have a good day everyone! Please leave a comment if you have any suggestions for later submissions!

TIL “Yankee Doodle” was written by the British to mock americans. “Doodle” is thought to come from the German “dödel”, meaning “fool” or “simpleton” and “macaroni,” a flamboyantly stylish type of dress, painting the Yankees as morons who thought placing a feather in one’s cap made them a “dandy.”

via reddit.com

Hey did you know I keep a google drive folder with linguistics and language books  that I try to update regularly 

Entry #2: 26-10-24

week 2 of school was a wreck. Why on earth do I have so many different projects and the 2nd semester just started-- On the other hand, I did get some really results for my class tests. so you win some you loose some I guess.

mood : Exhausted but optimisted

The symbolism of flowers

Flowers have a long history of symbolism that you can incorporate into your writing to give subtext.

Symbolism varies between cultures and customs, and these particular examples come from Victorian Era Britain. You'll find examples of this symbolism in many well-known novels of the era!

Amaryllis: Pride

Black-eyed Susan: Justice

Bluebell: Humility

Calla Lily: Beauty

Pink Camellia: Longing

Carnations: Female love

Yellow Carnation: Rejection

Clematis: Mental beauty

Columbine: Foolishness

Cyclamen: Resignation

Daffodil: Unrivalled love

Daisy: Innocence, loyalty

Forget-me-not: True love

Gardenia: Secret love

Geranium: Folly, stupidity

Gladiolus: Integrity, strength

Hibiscus: Delicate beauty

Honeysuckle: Bonds of love

Blue Hyacinth: Constancy

Hydrangea: Frigid, heartless

Iris: Faith, trust, wisdom

White Jasmine: Amiability

Lavender: Distrust

Lilac: Joy of youth

White Lily: Purity

Orange Lily: Hatred

Tiger Lily: Wealth, pride

Lily-of-the-valley: Sweetness, humility

Lotus: Enlightenment, rebirth

Magnolia: Nobility

Marigold: Grief, jealousy

Morning Glory: Affection

Nasturtium: Patriotism, conquest

Pansy: Thoughtfulness

Peony: Bashfulness, shame

Poppy: Consolation

Red Rose: Love

Yellow Rose: Jealously, infidelity

Snapdragon: Deception, grace

Sunflower: Adoration

Sweet Willian: Gallantry

Red Tulip: Passion

Violet: Watchfulness, modesty

Yarrow: Everlasting love

Zinnia: Absent, affection

okay, you guys can't tell me that husband john price isn't a domestic man, a soft domestic man who absolutely adores the domestic life. he gives off that energy, like i can imagine him going home to his cute little wife, hugging and kissing on her and cooking with her in the kitchen. john who hosts cook-outs often on the patio (with a beer in hand) to invite over the team and a few of your girl friends. i mean, ya'll can't see price waking you up with a cup of coffee or tea?? kissing you on the temple when you wrap your arms around him from behind when he's cooking breakfast?! this man literally builds things for you to make cooking, cleaning, or anything else you do around the house, easier. john will literally stand outside the bathroom with a notepad in hand to write down the grocery list with you (🧍🏻‍♂️). john also loves wrapping you in his arms and swaying with you when you play music. john will always pull you onto his lap when the two of you sit on the porch to watch the rain. he's so soft for you and you guys! he watches you, it's an intense, love-filled gaze. he notices everything about you. this man doesn't know what he'd do without you, probably be lost tbh.