taylorswordsemporium - Tumblr blog

taylorswordsemporium · 18 days ago

Text

The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity

(Even when life beats you down)

Look, I’m a mom, I have ADHD, I’m a spoonie. To say that I don’t have heaps of energy to spare and I struggle with consistency is an understatement. For years, I tried to write consistently, but I couldn’t manage to keep up with habits I built and deadlines I set.

So fuck neurodivergent guides on building habits, fuck “eat the frog first”, fuck “it’s all in the grind”, and fuck “you just need time management”—here is how I manage to write often and a lot.

Focus on having fun, not on the outcome

This was the groundwork I had to lay before I could even start my streak. At an online writing conference, someone said: “If you push yourself and meet your goals, and you publish your book, but you haven’t enjoyed the process… What’s the point?” and hoo boy, that question hit me like a truck.

I was so caught up in the narrative of “You’ve got to show up for what’s important” and “Push through if you really want to get it done”. For a few years, I used to read all these productivity books about grinding your way to success, and along the way I started using the same language as they did. And I notice a lot of you do so, too.

But your brain doesn’t like to grind. No-one’s brain does, and especially no neurodivergent brain. If having to write gives you stress or if you put pressure on yourself for not writing (enough), your brain’s going to say: “Huh. Writing gives us stress, we’re going to try to avoid it in the future.”

So before I could even try to write regularly, I needed to teach my brain once again that writing is fun. I switched from countable goals like words or time to non-countable goals like ��fun” and “flow”.

Rewire my brain: writing is fun and I’m good at it

I used everything I knew about neuroscience, psychology, and social sciences. These are some of the things I did before and during a writing session. Usually not all at once, and after a while I didn’t need these strategies anymore, although I sometimes go back to them when necessary.

I journalled all the negative thoughts I had around writing and try to reason them away, using arguments I knew in my heart were true. (The last part is the crux.) Imagine being supportive to a writer friend with crippling insecurities, only the friend is you.

Not setting any goals didn’t work for me—I still nurtured unwanted expectations. So I did set goals, but made them non-countable, like “have fun”, “get in the flow”, or “write”. Did I write? Yes. Success! Your brain doesn’t actually care about how high the goal is, it cares about meeting whatever goal you set.

I didn’t even track how many words I wrote. Not relevant.

I set an alarm for a short time (like 10 minutes) and forbade myself to exceed that time. The idea was that if I write until I run out of mojo, my brain learns that writing drains the mojo. If I write for 10 minutes and have fun, my brain learns that writing is fun and wants to do it again.

Reinforce the fact that writing makes you happy by rewarding your brain immediately afterwards. You know what works best for you: a walk, a golden sticker, chocolate, cuddle your dog, whatever makes you happy.

I conditioned myself to associate writing with specific stimuli: that album, that smell, that tea, that place. Any stimulus can work, so pick one you like. I consciously chose several stimuli so I could switch them up, and the conditioning stays active as long as I don’t muddle it with other associations.

Use a ritual to signal to your brain that Writing Time is about to begin to get into the zone easier and faster. I guess this is a kind of conditioning as well? Meditation, music, lighting a candle… Pick your stimulus and stick with it.

Specifically for rewiring my brain, I started a new WIP that had no emotional connotations attached to it, nor any pressure to get finished or, heaven forbid, meet quality norms. I don’t think these techniques above would have worked as well if I had applied them on writing my novel.

It wasn’t until I could confidently say I enjoyed writing again, that I could start building up a consistent habit. No more pushing myself.

I lowered my definition for success

When I say that nowadays I write every day, that’s literally it. I don’t set out to write 1,000 or 500 or 10 words every day (tried it, failed to keep up with it every time)—the only marker for success when it comes to my streak is to write at least one word, even on the days when my brain goes “naaahhh”. On those days, it suffices to send myself a text with a few keywords or a snippet. It’s not “success on a technicality (derogatory)”, because most of those snippets and ideas get used in actual stories later. And if they don’t, they don’t. It’s still writing. No writing is ever wasted.

A side note on high expectations, imposter syndrome, and perfectionism

Obviously, “Setting a ridiculously low goal” isn’t something I invented. I actually got it from those productivity books, only I never got it to work. I used to tell myself: “It’s okay if I don’t write for an hour, because my goal is to write for 20 minutes and if I happen to keep going for, say, an hour, that’s a bonus.” Right? So I set the goal for 20 minutes, wrote for 35 minutes, and instead of feeling like I exceeded my goal, I felt disappointed because apparently I was still hoping for the bonus scenario to happen. I didn’t know how to set a goal so low and believe it.

I think the trick to making it work this time lies more in the groundwork of training my brain to enjoy writing again than in the fact that my daily goal is ridiculously low. I believe I’m a writer, because I prove it to myself every day. Every success I hit reinforces the idea that I’m a writer. It’s an extra ward against imposter syndrome.

Knowing that I can still come up with a few lines of dialogue on the Really Bad Days—days when I struggle to brush my teeth, the day when I had a panic attack in the supermarket, or the day my kid got hit by a car—teaches me that I can write on the mere Bad-ish Days.

The more I do it, the more I do it

The irony is that setting a ridiculously low goal almost immediately led to writing more and more often. The most difficult step is to start a new habit. After just a few weeks, I noticed that I needed less time and energy to get into the zone. I no longer needed all the strategies I listed above.

Another perk I noticed, was an increased writing speed. After just a few months of writing every day, my average speed went from 600 words per hour to 1,500 wph, regularly exceeding 2,000 wph without any loss of quality.

Talking about quality: I could see myself becoming a better writer with every passing month. Writing better dialogue, interiority, chemistry, humour, descriptions, whatever: they all improved noticeably, and I wasn’t a bad writer to begin with.

The increased speed means I get more done with the same amount of energy spent. I used to write around 2,000-5,000 words per month, some months none at all. Nowadays I effortlessly write 30,000 words per month. I didn’t set out to write more, it’s just a nice perk.

Look, I’m not saying you should write every day if it doesn’t work for you. My point is: the more often you write, the easier it will be.

No pressure

Yes, I’m still working on my novel, but I’m not racing through it. I produce two or three chapters per month, and the rest of my time goes to short stories my brain keeps projecting on the inside of my eyelids when I’m trying to sleep. I might as well write them down, right?

These short stories started out as self-indulgence, and even now that I take them more seriously, they are still just for me. I don’t intend to ever publish them, no-one will ever read them, they can suck if they suck. The unintended consequence was that my short stories are some of my best writing, because there’s no pressure, it’s pure fun.

Does it make sense to spend, say, 90% of my output on stories no-one else will ever read? Wouldn’t it be better to spend all that creative energy and time on my novel? Well, yes. If you find the magic trick, let me know, because I haven’t found it yet. The short stories don’t cannibalize on the novel, because they require different mindsets. If I stopped writing the short stories, I wouldn’t produce more chapters. (I tried. Maybe in the future? Fingers crossed.)

Don’t wait for inspiration to hit

There’s a quote by Picasso: “Inspiration hits, but it has to find you working.” I strongly agree. Writing is not some mystical, muse-y gift, it’s a skill and inspiration does exist, but usually it’s brought on by doing the work. So just get started and inspiration will come to you.

Accountability and community

Having social factors in your toolbox is invaluable. I have an offline writing friend I take long walks with, I host a monthly writing club on Discord, and I have another group on Discord that holds me accountable every day. They all motivate me in different ways and it’s such a nice thing to share my successes with people who truly understand how hard it can be.

The productivity books taught me that if you want to make a big change in your life or attitude, surrounding yourself with people who already embody your ideal or your goal huuuugely helps. The fact that I have these productive people around me who also prioritize writing, makes it easier for me to stick to my own priorities.

Your toolbox

The idea is to have several techniques at your disposal to help you stay consistent. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket by focussing on just one technique. Keep all of them close, and if one stops working or doesn’t inspire you today, pivot and pick another one.

After a while, most “tools” run in the background once they are established. Things like surrounding myself with my writing friends, keeping up with my daily streak, and listening to the album I conditioned myself with don’t require any energy, and they still remain hugely beneficial.

Do you have any other techniques? I’d love to hear about them!

I hope this was useful. Happy writing!

6K notes · View notes

taylorswordsemporium · 1 month ago

Text

Brain Kiss

"Hey, Lex!" I perked up at the sound of my name. Someone was calling me? I looked around and spotted a girl about my age, waving at me from the edge of the party crowd. That night was a post-graduation party, but given the whole recent Empowering situation... my head wasn't on straight. Suddenly having an entire new sense sucked and so did having to manage new "limbs". I thought heading out and trying to be more social might help me relax. I was very wrong.

You don't realize how much electric noise surrounds you, until you can't ignore it. I was completely overloaded, just sitting in the back corner of whoever's living room it was. Phones were going off, peoples' own nervous systems were adding to the "noise", and I was definitely about to freak out. Thankfully that girl got to me to pull me out of the room.

With my senses a little less fried, I finally recognized the red hair and glasses. Everyone called her "French Kiss". Her real name was Francine Kissinger. She was a really hardcore psychology nerd. It suddenly occurred to me why she might have pulled me out. I hoped I wasn't crackling or sparkling, and she just saw that I was staring off into space or something.

"Hey." Her voice pulled me back down to Earth, again.

"Huh?" I shook my head. "Hi, French. Uh. Nice seeing you here?"

"You're getting overstimulated. You didn't take anything, right?" She looked directly into my eyes... I couldn't tell if she was trying to gauge something, or what.

"No. I've had half of this Dew, all night, just... y'know, hanging around." I raised the little plastic cup.

"Good. I'd hate for you to be blasted out of your mind because of a new drug, or something. So, what's on your mind?" She folded her arms across her chest, still giving me a thoughtful stare with those deep brown eyes. It was... Weirdly soothing.

"I think I'm just out of my element." I sighed. "Parties haven't ever been my thing, I just... Wanted to try and unwind, some. There's a pretty big, scary change in the world, you know?"

"Yeah, I know... Tell you what, you wanna come to the master bedroom with me? A couple of the stoners are in there, vegging out. Should be nice and quiet." Her voice was gentle, and convincing... I really couldn't say no. I think I gave her a nod and sucked down the rest of my drink before we went upstairs and into the back of the house.

Before I knew it, she had my butt in a beanbag chair and she was giving me that same piercing gaze. Why was it so calming?

"...Hey, I know this might be a big ask, but... Lex, do you trust me to help you relax? You really need this."

I gave her a bit of a half-sure nod. I set my empty cup aside and leaned back into the beanbag.

"Okay, thank you. You won't regret it." She knelt down in front of me. "...Look into my eyes and focus on my voice. Can you do that?"

I nodded again. Nothing else was keeping my attention.

"Good, good. That's all you need to do. Listen to my voice, and let yourself get lost in my eyes. I'm going to get you nice and relaxed." Her pupils began to shine pink, spreading out into her irises.

My body tensed up, then immediately went limp as the light gently rolled into my mind. Everything suddenly felt... foggy.

"Shhhh, sh..." She reached out and gently stroked my shoulder. "I know, it's scary. But I don't want to hurt you. I asked if you trusted me, and I won't ever betray that. All I want is to help you feel better. All the noise and chaos downstairs really stressed you out. I'm going to help clear that anxiety and get you into a nice, deep trance. Is that okay?"

I could only groan softly and nod. Everything about my body was muffled and distant... Maybe even more distant than the rumble of the party below me. Even the shining emerald electricity in my veins was dulled to a soft hum.

"Thank you. Now, let's get to work making you feel good, eh?" French gave me a playful smile as she took her hand off my shoulder. I may have whimpered as she pulled away. "Aw, poor sweetie... Hehe, don't worry, I'll get this going quick. After all, you're already past the hard part. These powers are a nice, quick way to get someone in the right headspace. All fuzzy-headed and suggestible. You're cute when your eyes can't focus right."

Oh, was that...? I tried to tilt my head back forward - when did I start leaning back that hard? Everything felt... tingly and shifty.

"Aw, look at you, trying so hard. Adorable~ But don't you worry about a thing. I've got you." She pushed the beanbag into the wall a bit harder, gently resting my head against it with her other hand. "Perfect. Now you won't fall over. Back to my voice, come along~ I'm the only thing in the building that you need to listen to." French got back into her kneeling position.

"Your eyes look so heavy, already. All twitchy, and you can barely keep them open. It feels like your head is swimming." I barely managed a nod. Everything she said was completely true. "Ah-ah. You don't need to do anything, unless I ask. I know what you're feeling. I have my fingers in your mind, after all. I'm gently massaging all that stress and tension out." French carefully put her fingers on my temples. She stroked them around in circles, getting another groan to rise out of my throat. Somehow it did feel like she was directly rubbing my brain.

"That's a good girl... You just let me handle all your worries. I'll take good care of everything... You just have to sit there and listen. Maybe think as hard as you can about what I'm telling you. If you have any mind left to do it. Ahahaha~ Sorry, tiiiiiiny dommy teasing streak~" She grinned, and it felt like it took up my entire view. What a beautiful smile she had...

"You know what hypnosis is, I'm sure. For normal people, it's about sharing control of your mind with another person, from a deep state of relaxation. My powers just give me a little bitty shortcut. You feel that glow, all throughout your brain, after all. But that's all it does. It takes some of that resistance that anxious people or trance-resistant subjects have and just...turns... it... off...~" I was suddenly aware of... missing the buzzing alarms in my head. So quiet...

"That feels good, I can tell. You're so relaxed and suggestible. Letting yourself give up control to me feels wonderful. So calming and... heavy~" My limbs felt leaden, like it would take monumental effort just to move them, or even twitch my fingers. Even my internal electricity felt sluggish. Like maple syrup gently sinking downward in my body.

"Perfect, perfect... You're such a wonderful subject, Lex. Let's get you all the way down, so you have a good rest. I'll come get you, when the party's over. With every breath you take, you feel the fog of my words slowly building in your body. A slow, creeping toxin that just makes you sleepier... and sleepier..."

She gently slid her fingers through my hair, leaning in to kiss my forehead. It felt like a little spark of energy flowed down into my heart, making it beat just a bit off-kilter. If she saw any electricity in my eyes, she stayed quiet about it. "Breathe in, nice and deep. When you hear me snap my fingers and say 'drop', you'll let the fluffy, warm feeling of that cloud of poisoned, honey-sweet words tug you down into a deep sleep that will leave you nice and rested."

"So weighty and calming... Warm and comfortable, relaxed on this beanbag."

Snap.

"Drop~"

The next thing I knew, the party was over and she was slowly shaking my shoulder. The fog clung to my mind, but I did feel rested! I wiggled my fingers and head. I flexed my arms and legs. I finally managed to lean forward with a grunt, shaking my head some more. "That was... Really nice." I yawned as I got to my feet.

"Call me if you want more, yeah? I'm happy to help a stressed out gal like you take a load off!" French gave me a peppy smile. There wasn't a trace of that sultry, sexy dominance left-

Sexy? Huh? Did... No, that wasn't a lingering hypno-thing, that was... natural? Oh, great, another identity crisis, I don't-

"Oy, cool your jets." She poked my cheek.

"Yes, ma'am." ...Damn, she was powerful!

"Everything's fine, and you can take your time with any worries that are bubbling back into your head. Things are only an emergency if you make them emergencies in your head." She smirked and turned to leave the room. "We aren't even at college, yet. You have plenty of time to figure yourself out. Find out who you are, and do it on purpose, as Dolly Parton said."

French looked back over her shoulder with a broad grin. "Me, for example, I don't wanna be some kinda super. I just want to help people know themselves and relax! Maybe you're more the hero type, eh, Sparky? Don't worry, I'm sure our secrets are safe with each other~"

She disappeared down the hall, leaving me alone to exit the party of my own volition... Maybe they had a bottle of Mountain Dew Voltage I could steal on the way out.

Superpowered hypnotherapy... Could be fun, in the future!

#drabble

13 notes · View notes

taylorswordsemporium · 1 month ago

Text

Hey, random writing tip: Instead of having something be a ridiculously unlikely coincidence, you can make the thing happen due to who this particular character is as a person. Instead of getting stuck on "there's no logical reason to why that would happen", try to bend it into a case of "something like this would never happen to anybody but this specific fucker." Something that makes your reader chuckle and roll their eyes, going "well of course you would."

Why would the timid shy nerd be at a huge sketchy downtown black market bazaar? Well, she's got this beetle colony she's raising that needs a very specific kind of leaf for nest material, and there only place to get it is this one guy at the bazaar that sells that stuff. Why would the most femininely flamboyant guy ever known just happen to have downright encyclopedic knowledge about professional boxing? Well, there was this one time when he was down bad for this guy who was an aspiring professional boxer...

I know it sounds stupidly obvious when written out like this, but when you're up close to your writing, it's hard to see the forest for the trees. Some time ago I finished reading a book, where the whole plot hinges on character A, who is 100% certain that character B is dead, personally getting up and coming down from the top rooms of a castle, to the gates, at 3 am, to come look at some drunk who claims to be this guy who died 17 years ago. Why would A do that, if he's sure that B is dead?

Because he's a Warrior Guy from a culture of Loyalty And Honour, and hearing that someone's got the audacity to go about claiming to be his long-lost brother in battle, there is no other option than to immediately personally go down there to beat the ever-loving shit out of this guy. Who then turns out to actually be character B, after all.

34K notes · View notes

taylorswordsemporium · 1 month ago

Text

Show, don’t tell

"Show, don’t tell" means letting readers experience a story through actions, senses, and dialogue instead of outright explaining things. Here are some practical tips to achieve that:

1. Use Sensory Details

Tell: "The room was cold."

Show: "Her breath puffed in faint clouds, and she shivered as frost clung to the edges of the window."

Tell: "He was scared."

Show: "His hands trembled, and his heart thudded so loudly he was sure they could hear it too."

2. Focus on Actions

Tell: "She was angry."

Show: "She slammed the mug onto the counter, coffee sloshing over the rim as her jaw clenched."

Tell: "He was exhausted."

Show: "He stumbled through the door, collapsing onto the couch without even bothering to remove his shoes."

3. Use Dialogue

What characters say and how they say it can reveal their emotions, intentions, or traits.

Tell: "She was worried about the storm."

Show: "Do you think it'll reach us?" she asked, her voice tight, her fingers twisting the hem of her shirt.

4. Show Internal Conflict Through Thoughts or Reactions

Tell: "He was jealous of his friend."

Show: "As his friend held up the trophy, he forced a smile, swallowing the bitter lump rising in his throat."

5. Describe the Environment to Reflect Mood

Use the setting to mirror or hint at emotions or themes.

Tell: "The town was eerie."

Show: "Empty streets stretched into the mist, and the only sound was the faint creak of a weathered sign swinging in the wind."

6. Let Readers Infer Through Context

Give enough clues for the reader to piece things together without spelling it out.

Tell: "The man was a thief."

Show: "He moved through the crowd, fingers brushing pockets, his hand darting away with a glint of gold."

7. Use Subtext in Interactions

What’s left unsaid can reveal as much as what’s spoken.

Tell: "They were uncomfortable around each other."

Show: "He avoided her eyes, pretending to study the painting on the wall. She smoothed her dress for the third time, her fingers fumbling with the hem."

8. Compare to Relatable Experiences

Use metaphors, similes, or comparisons to make an emotion or situation vivid.

Tell: "The mountain was huge."

Show: "The mountain loomed above them, its peak disappearing into the clouds, as if it pierced the heavens."

Practice Example:

Tell: "The village had been destroyed by the fire."

Show: "Charred beams jutted from the rubble like broken ribs, the acrid smell of ash lingering in the air. A child's shoe lay half-buried in the soot, its leather curled from the heat."

18K notes · View notes

taylorswordsemporium · 1 month ago

Text

Surnames are just as important as given names. So, I compiled a list of the websites I use to find my surnames.

English Surnames

Dutch Surnames

Spanish Surnames

Scottish Surnames

German Surnames

Italian Surnames

Irish Surnames

French Surnames

Scandinavian Surnames

Welsh Surnames

Jewish Surnames

Surnames By Ethnicity

Most Common Surnames in the USA

Most Common Surnames in Great Britan

Most Common Surnames in Asia

267K notes · View notes

taylorswordsemporium · 2 months ago

Text

Wait, have I really never talked about Economy Of Information, the thing I made up that is also the thing I use the most when writing?

2K notes · View notes

taylorswordsemporium · 2 months ago

Text

Writing Websites

1. a website with a list of superpowers and what they are

2. a website that generates random au ideas

3. a website that generates names, basic info and futures in a bunch of languages

4. a website that checks your grammar

5. website that lists types of execution in the states

6. a website with info on death certificates

7. a website with info on the four manners of death

8. a website with info on the black plague

9. website with information on depression

10. a website with info on the four types of suicide

11. website that lists famous quotes

12. website with different kinds of quotes

13. a website with info on food in every country

14. a website with a list of different colors

15. website with a list of medieval jobs

16. website with a list of fabrics

17. website with a list of flowers and pictures

18. website with a list of flowers and no pictures

19. website with a list of poisonous plants

20. website with a list of poisonous and non-poisonous plants

21. website with a list of things not to feed your animals

22. website with a list of poisons that can be used to kill people

23. website with info on the international date line

24. website with a list of food allergies

25. website with a list of climates

26. website with info on allergic reactions

27. website with info on fahrenheit and celsius

28. website with info on color blindness

29. website with a list of medical equipment

30. website with a list of bugs

31. website with an alphabetic list of bugs and their scientific name

32. website with a list of eye colors

33. website (wikipedia sorry) with list of drinks

34. website with a list of religions

35. website with a list of different types of doctors and what they do

36. website (wikipedia again sorry) with a list of hair colors

37. website that generates fantasy names

38. website with a list of body language

39. website with a list of disabilities

40. website with an alphabetic list of disabilities

44K notes · View notes

taylorswordsemporium · 2 months ago

Text

Top-Tier Villain Motivations

They will be safe. It doesn't matter who else or what else burns as long as They will be safe.

I will be safe. The hunger and the cold will never touch me again.

Fuck any bitch who's prettier(/cooler/better-liked/better at making dumplings) than me.

Yes, Master

Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. LOVE ME!

I know the terrible things these so-called "heroes" will do if I don't stop them (<- is absolutely wrong)

I don't want a better future, I want a better past!

No other way to get performance art funded these days

75K notes · View notes

taylorswordsemporium · 2 months ago

Text

i think we as a society need to use cell phones/laptops/cars/backpacks to flesh out characters

45K notes · View notes

taylorswordsemporium · 2 months ago

Text

Obsessed with vampires but specifically when they're really pathetic

8K notes · View notes

taylorswordsemporium · 2 months ago

Text

How my creative process works sometimes.

Search your soul. You know it to be true.

#horror vs horny

75K notes · View notes

taylorswordsemporium · 2 months ago

Text

I loveee fantasy settings doing magical exhaustion:

burnt out pyromancers emitting steam and smoke

tired cryomancers shivering with visible foggy breath

weary necromancers looking ill and hearing voices

frazzled healers receiving the same cuts, bruises, and injuries of their patients

40K notes · View notes

taylorswordsemporium · 2 months ago

Text

I woke up this morning, in a very unusual way

Brown eyes open with a gasp expelling from a mouth below. A woman in a damaged yellow shirt and jeans sits up, clutching her chest. She's... Fine?! What the-? Last she recalls, she was disintegrating on top of-

Where's Rihoko?!

The woman forces herself to her feet, looking around as she tries to get her bearings. She was climbing a tower and then she used the-

The Witchblade! It's... Still on her wrist. Dammit. Well, it's not the worst news she's comprehended, today. It's weirder that she feels... Healthy.

And completely out of place. She steps out of the alley that she seems to have appeared in. "...Where am I? This... Isn't Tokyo..." For one thing, the amount of traffic... And these road signs are all in English. All the signs are in English. How the hell...?

We're all living in Amerika, Amerika, Amerika~

Masane looks around, trying not to panic. She makes her way past a newspaper box, noting the date.

2024?! She's been gone for eighteen years!? Wh- She should have stayed dead, Rihoko's-!

"Oh my god, Rihoko's older than me, now... Oh. Crap." Masane looks down at her wrist, the faded silver band and red gem almost seeming to stare back.

"...And I can't ever see her, again, if I want her to be free of you, can I? Damn it..." She grits her teeth and smacks her wrist against the nearer brick wall. "You're stuck with me, you bastard. It's not happening."

Masane yelps and braces herself as a building nearby, thankfully not the one she just punched, simply explodes, debris and metal flying everywhere. She feels the Witchblade pulse against her skin, reacting to... whatever just caused that.

She looks up and sees a pair of glowing eyes peering back at her through the last of the dust cloud. The brunette grits her teeth and looks at her wrist, once more. "You're my ticket out of this, as usual. Bet it's your fault, too..."

She tenses her arms and lowers them to the ground. Her mind focuses on the feeling of pain and loss in her heart. Poor Rihoko, growing up without her... Hopefully Takayama didn't raise her, alone.

The familiar rush of energy and excitement floods into her body, and she lets out a mad cackle.

"Come get some~"

Masane Amaha joins the Brawl!

#drabble

10 notes · View notes