Okay so! This is something I thought of doing for a long time and I finally found the time and courage to do it! I really wanted to congratulate and express my love for these fics (and their authors) that have less than 200 kudos (for now!). They clearly donāt have the recognition they deserve, in my humble opinion! Iām just a tiny blog, and I binge-read a lot of stuff, but I hope it will help and encourage some people to read them! ā¤
Wip / Comp(lete)
G(eneral) / T(een) / M(ature) / E(xplicit)
Please always mind the full tags/warnings on the fic page.
Another bit of housewife!AU. Iām still deciding if I want to post this on AO3 as-is or continue it, so Iāll leave it here in the meantime.
2100 words / light M / kylux modern AU
Hux always feels like a prey animal at the grocery store.
He pauses in picking through a colorful display of starfruit and papayas to do a casual scan of the produce section. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Richard Attenborough is narrating.
The male uses his superior height to evade detection by the females of the species while foraging.
Adding a couple of mangoes to the hand basket at his elbow, he snorts quietly to himself.
It wasnāt that he was antisocial. He generally liked being around people, especially when he could be in charge of group activities. But something seemed to happen to women his age who had moved to a rich suburb and produced the obligatory 2.5 children. It came with the territory, like one of those awful minivans with the televisions in them, or an affinity for kale smoothies. They would corner him with effusively friendly offers; invitations to play tennis, to join book club, to go shopping – Ā help me pick out a swim suit, you always have such good taste– or to come over for girls night.
Weāre going to watch Magic Mike, Susanās bringing the wine so we might get a little crazy, and Iām making these cute little fat free chocolate rice balls I saw on pinterest-
Meanwhile, Hux couldnāt escape the feeling that he was being hunted and bagged and mounted for display- the rare and elusive gay best friend to complete the appearance of the picture-perfect life for some aging California housewife.
That was better than the alternative, of course- that they were just being friendly because he was one of them. The thought makes him feel cold in a way that has nothing to do with the chilly air in the produce section.
dispatches from the dumpster 