17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?
Usually I write them in order. But there are times when I write out random scenes with no clear order at all – this happens when I’m in a rut and I don’t know how to proceed with the story lol
27. How do you feel about collaborations?
I don’t know – I’ve never done one. I’d feel bad for the other party because my writing mood fluctuates a lot ://
29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?
Oh, man. I feel like the fics I’ve read and loved are good just the way they are, but if I had to pick one (1), I’d go with this one-shot called On Little Cat Feet where Neil can turn into a cat. I only chose this one because I want to read more of it – it’s so good and interesting 😀
30. Do you accept prompts?
It’s a soft yes. I’ve been in fandom (various ones) for years now, but I’ve only ever received like, 1 or 2 prompts total. So it’s like, I’d love to receive them but I’ve never actually gotten any lmao. If anyone gives me a prompt, I’ll do my best to write them, definitely 🙂 they’ll have to bear with my extremely slow writing, though lol
“Stickball was a bastard sport, an evolved sort of lacrosse on a soccer-sized court with the violence of ice hockey, and Neil loved every part of it from its speed to its aggression.”
“He didn’t know if he was ready to give up Stickball again, either. It was the only thing that made him feel real.”
“Kevin Day and his adoptive brother Riko Moriyama were hailed as the sons of Stickball.”
“Everything was for Stickball, from his early morning run to the hours he clocked at the gym to the afternoon scrimmages to the longer run he took in the evenings after dinner.”
“They lived and breathed Stickball on a scale no other team could or would.”
“Did you have any plans to do anything?” Matt finally thought to ask Neil. “Besides the obvious, I mean.” Neil wasn’t sure if Matt meant Stickball or Andrew.”
It was
Nicky who forced them all in the car on an apparently random Saturday, with empty
threats, a good deal of supplication, and endless streaks of “Neil. Neil. Neil.
Neil.” which got on everyone nerves, even his own.
Neil managed
to outlast Nicky the fifth time he did it by turning on the shower, choosing to
wash his hair for the second time in as many days just so the water would flow over
his ears.
“What the
fuck are you doing?” was the first thing he heard when he stepped out of the stall,
almost relaxed. The voices were right outside the bathroom door but Neil
pretended he was alone in the world as he dried and dressed as slowly as
possible.
Nothing but My Aching Soul 