#so i gave the scene to suki who is naturally mood-lightening

[goldrushzukka]

10, 17, 21, 29 🤔

hi my love

10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

i never ever ever thought aidays would get the attention it did. granted it was originally supposed to be 3 chapters of angst-less romcom hijinks, so of course i didn't expect it to blow up as much as it has bc it also blew up in my own mind to become this huge story. the encouragement when i decided to expand it a bit was amazing, and even better was the theorising and close reading that came when i decided to expand it a Lot. (and this is so cheesy but thank you so much to you specifically michelle for loving aidays enough that i noticed and befriended you bc i would not have finished it without you ily)

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

none of my writing has ever gone into much detail on anything technical so i dont really have a good answer for this except for all the times i learned americans have so many different words for things that really do not need a different word. also some irish-isms are so deeply ingrained in me that it takes saying them out loud in an american accent to hear how wrong it sounds for my narration.

21. Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours laboring over it? If so, why?

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

these two have the same answer so I'll just do them together. in my original draft of aidays11, the scene where sokka goes to get groceries actually had a zukka interaction. i wrote about 1.5k words and then realised i hated all of them and scrapped the scene entirely, and then that supermarket trip became just an excuse to get sokka outside into the rain for the sparks fly/how you get the girl climax moment. i won't post the full scene here bc i truly do actually hate most of it but here's some of it

His shoe squeaks on the linoleum when he stops dead in his tracks.  Zuko, examining the skin of a peach three feet away, looks up at the sound. “Oh,” he says, setting the peach down. Several expressions flash across his face, and Sokka can’t get a read on any of them. “Hey.” The first thing out of Sokka’s mouth, before he can stop it, before he can even think, is, “What are you doing here?” Zuko blinks at him. “Sorry, that was – sorry,” Sokka says. He shouldn’t get any closer, but he does, approaching the fruit stand and cutting the distance between them in half. Like that’ll help him think straight. “This is just – I mean, isn’t there a supermarket closer to your place? This is a little out of your way, isn’t it?” Okay, so there are less rude ways to ask that. Ways that don’t make it sound like Sokka’s being territorial about the fucking produce section. But Sokka doesn’t know how to talk about anything normal right now, especially not with Zuko, because all he can think about is last chances and leaps of faith and his own terrible, terrible wanting.  Is this what it’s going to be like forever? Unable to have a normal interaction without almost spilling every secret he’s ever had, every desire that holds his heart for ransom? Forever crushed under the foot of the elephant in the room? “Azula needs something specific for a recipe she’s working on,” Zuko says. He holds his hands by his sides in a way that Sokka thinks is very intentional. “Our place doesn’t have it. Well, no, it does, but I brought it home and she threatened me with a knife, so I guess our place doesn’t have the right one.” He smiles a little as he says it, and for a second, Sokka forgets about the last chances and the leaps of faith and the terribleness of his wanting. He forgets about Katara and Jet and Suki and the what-does-it-all-mean headache he’s had since waking.  For a second, Sokka is standing in the produce section and the man he loves is smiling at him. Zuko asks, “Do you know where the basil is?”

And Sokka says, “Yeah. Do you need it dried or fresh?” “Fresh, I think.” “Okay. This way.” Sokka leads him to the tiny garden section, right by a big window at the end of the frozen food section. It’s mostly flower bouquets and succulents, but there’s a handful of potted plants under a cheerful sign encouraging customers to start their own herb gardens.  Sokka hands a potted basil plant to Zuko. “There’s a little card in there that tells you how to take care of it.” “Oh, cool,” Zuko says. “Thank you.” “We had one for a little while,” Sokka says, astonished at himself for being able to carry this conversation as far as he has. “We kept it in Suki’s room.” “Your room gets better light, though.” Something awful and bright as a star twists inside Sokka’s chest. “Yeah, but Suki was the one who remembered to water it. And then Momo got at it, and we had to throw away two sets of sheets.” Zuko throws his head back laughing, the same way he did last night and a hundred times before then, and that awful star inside him expands, exploding as he thinks, maybe this is it.  But Zuko says, “Thanks. I’ll see you.” And it isn’t. Sokka lets him go, because what else is there to do? If Zuko wanted to stay, he would. If Zuko wanted to talk about last night, he would. If Zuko wanted to choose him, he would.