kilig (n.): the butterflies you get that are caused by an exciting or romantic experience
→ summary:
Enter Kim Taehyung: Campus heart-throb slash theatre prodigy, always dressed immaculately in his cute little beret. Looking for a script that will “challenge” his abilities.
Enter you: Fumbling (and starving) writer with a romcom manuscript begging to be written, except she’s never had experience with dating. Looking for a (fake) boyfriend to help her get inspired.
{or alternatively: “Hey, are you looking for me? Because I’ve certainly been looking for you.”}
→ genre: theatre club!au, fake dating, fluff, humor, slight angst
→ warnings: everyone is a little overdramatic (the woes of being a fine arts major i suppose), namjoon and his situationship are mentioned (rip my guy), taehyung can be your angle or yuor devil, oc is a late bloomer when it comes to relationships but dear lord she's TRYING, handholding as a form of CBT, this isn't quite a slow burn but maybe a hasty simmer
→ words: anticipated 10-15K
→ a/n: HAPPY BANGTAN REUNION DAY!! so this wip is old as hell (as in bangtan hadn't even started their military service type old) but i got a sudden surge of writing juice because umm MY BABIES ARE BACK TOGETHER!! a momentous occasion must be paired with another equally momentous occasion (i.e., me gaining the energy to write.) the full thing will be posted soon... i hope... BYE!!
part of the “heart full of hugot” series
A week passes by, and you almost forget about your pathetic cry for help. You had tried to continue writing your “romance” story for your creative writing project, but you are halfway through giving up on the genre and reverting to your tried and true method of writing angsty fictional prose instead. That is, until Namjoon frantically runs up to your home in a hurry, banging on your door like that one time when he desperately needed to use your toilet.
You crack your door open to peer up at him suspiciously, his bright and eager smile doing nothing to quell the sudden urge to run and hide under your bed. A smiling and quiet Namjoon is never a good Namjoon; an omen, if anything.
“What do you want?” You growl, eyes narrowed when he ungracefully wedges himself past you and into your cramped dormitory. After you lock your door behind him, you turn to see him standing in the middle of your room with his hand outstretched towards you, offering his phone to you wordlessly.
“You’re weirding me out,” you breathed tiredly, taking his phone and squinting at the screen. It has a blurry picture of the campus board near the mess hall, littered with announcements for university events, tutoring services, and dubious Halloween parties. At the center of the photo is a specific advertisement that looks out of place, but whoever had taken the photo (i.e., Namjoon) clearly didn’t care about photography quality, as the words are hardly decipherable.
“Dude, I can’t read this. It’s an open call for… a script?” You guess, only able to make out the heading of the advertisement. You chuck the phone back at Namjoon, who unsurprisingly isn’t agile enough to catch it.
“Yeah! My boyfriend—” Namjoon stops suddenly, clearing his throat. “Erm, I mean… My friend told me about it. He said he knows a guy who knows a girl who knows a professor who knows a dog—”
“Get on with it already!” You snap, already losing your non-existent patience.
“—well, okay, I was getting there,” Namjoon huffs, squatting down to pick up his fallen phone. He shows you the photo again, as if the worthless smudge of color on his screen would do anything to answer your questions. “My point is that an anonymous theater student just put out an open call for manuscript submissions for any film, TV pilot, or play. Apparently, they want something challenging to help them practice or something.”
“And how does this have something to do with me…?” You scowl, rubbing your temples in annoyance. Namjoon knows you’re already swamped with enough writing projects as it is, so why on earth would you randomly donate one of your drafts to some weirdo theater student?
“Well, you asked to get set up with someone, remember? This is literally the perfect opportunity!” Namjoon claps his hands, his grin oozing with misplaced self-satisfaction.
…
What the fuck?
When you remain quietly dumbfounded for what feels like ten entire minutes, Namjoon clears his throat to explain. “Oh, c’mon! They asked for some challenging acting practice. Nothing is more mind-numbingly difficult than being your significant other, for sure!”
You feel a blood vessel pop; you hope it’s a vital one. “Once again, I have to ask… How lowly do you think of me?” You growl, your cheeks growing hot from anger, frustration, and murderous intent.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Namjoon soothes, patting your head condescendingly before he flops down on your unmade bed. He even has the audacity to start picking at your half-eaten bag of chips, contaminating your sheets with his stray crumbs and the germs from his outside clothes. “Just think about it. It’s a win-win situation, don’t you think? He gets an acting practice partner, and you get a dating practice partner. How can this ever go wrong?”
He says it so matter-of-factly that it almost convinces you to turn off your brain and go along with the idea. If you’re being honest, your desperation for human connection is almost concerning, so you have no idea why you’re acting so opposed to the idea. Maybe you do have some shred of dignity, after all.
“I dunno, Namjoon… Isn’t this kind of incel behavior?” You sigh, dropping your face into your hands in defeat.
Namjoon munches on your chips thoughtfully for a moment. “I mean, yeah, a little bit,” he starts, but he scrambles to clarify his words when your face immediately turns deathly pale. “But! Hey, this anonymous drama kid is probably even worse than you. They’re probably some awkward nerd who plays D&D and MTG on the weekends.”
“Namjoon, we’re both nerds who play D&D and MTG on the weekends,” you mumble, but your rebuttal is ignored in favor of another large mouthful of chips.
“I’m just saying… It’s worth a shot. At least consider submitting your suggestion? You never know what could happen,” he shrugs. He then crumples the finished bag of junk food into a tight ball, shooting it into your trash can. It misses.
He stands up from your bed in all his lanky glory, dusting off his crumbs onto your carpet before shooting you a lopsided, dimpled grin. “Well, I better be going. I’ll text you the email address for the acting suggestion submission thing. My job here is done.”
You glare at him as he salutes you mockingly, as if he’d just bestowed you with God’s greatest gift (his mind). “What the fuck? Why are you acting as though I’m going to agree to do this?” You call out after him, but your query goes unanswered as he turns to leave and abruptly slams your door in your face.
As you stew in defiant rage in your crumb-infested dorm room, you swear to delete his text message with the contact details of the anonymous theater kid at your earliest convenience. No way in hell would you give Namjoon the satisfaction of knowing he had “helped” you. You can remain single for the rest of your life, fake boyfriend or not. You would not stoop.
Happy world hamster day to you and to hammie jin aka the loml😌 still my favourite comfort fic
MY NUMBER ONE HAMMIE JINNIE SUPPORTER 🗣️
he is such a little menace aughhhh i am squishing him in my mind like a stress ball (don’t worry he is very much indestructible because neither hell nor heaven want him if he dies)
To this day, nothing has ever made me laugh as much as “Spit it out! What’s got your prostate tickled?” And I thank you for that
ive been staring at this ask for ages and i literally do not remember writing that at all LMAOOO but tbh ive written so much unhinged stuff in the past few years that i wouldnt be surprised 🙂↕️
haiiii I just finished binging tlhc and ???? it has currently scrambled my word-related braincells and has only made me Feel Things ;-; it was soo good!!! <33
woahhhh hi!!!! thank you for reading tlhc omg it really is a heart and brain scrambler for sure… so many twists and turns and BOOM suddenly jungkook is experiencing heartache over and over again while yoongi is fighting his inner demons… I LOVE PLAYING WITH YOONKOOK LIKE LITTLE DOLLS INSIDE MY MIND :DDD
So i was reading Foxrain again. It was spectacular, literally lightened up my day. jin is amazing, he brings the mood up to a thousand in the story. His chaotic nature fuels the plots so much lol.
omg a fox rain reader in 2026!! i almost cant believe my eyes… thank you so much for rereading it after all this time, even if it may remain incomplete forever 🥲
ngl, jin in fox rain is my favorite characterization of him ever!! i just love writing him like he’s the personification of chaos,,, he deserves to go apeshit once in a while,,, but in my fics, he’s Just Like That almost all the time and i love that for me
He hinted at the baby years ago and finally gave what I telepathically been asking (that’s a joke) from him for YEARS.
I don’t think anyone realize how important this is to me and I have no one to scream about yoongi having a cat with!!
dawg like icb he showed his cat to us… AND HES A BISCUIT MAKING MACHINE??? oh he’s making me sob in the middle of my room like it’s 2020 all over again
and i think it’s perfect that 1) black cat and 2) HE NAMED HIM TANG??? SUGA AND TANG??? oh dear LORD this man is literally so cute with his cute cat……. i’m afraid they are twinning my loves…
the worst thing about writing or any kind of craft is having an idea you're really excited to make a reality but then you sit down and realize how much work it's going to take to get to that point and suddenly you feel like those two little gay guys in the mountain in the lord of the rings
kilig (n.): the butterflies you get that are caused by an exciting or romantic experience
→ summary:
Enter Kim Taehyung: Campus heart-throb slash theatre prodigy, always dressed immaculately in his cute little beret. Looking for a script that will “challenge” his abilities.
Enter you: Fumbling (and starving) writer with a romcom manuscript begging to be written, except she’s never had experience with dating. Looking for a (fake) boyfriend to help her get inspired.
{or alternatively: “Hey, are you looking for me? Because I’ve certainly been looking for you.”}
→ genre: theatre club!au, fake dating, fluff, humor, slight angst
→ warnings: everyone is a little overdramatic (the woes of being a fine arts major i suppose), namjoon and his situationship are mentioned (rip my guy), taehyung can be your angle or yuor devil, oc is a late bloomer when it comes to relationships but dear lord she's TRYING, handholding as a form of CBT, this isn't quite a slow burn but maybe a hasty simmer
→ words: anticipated 10-15K
→ a/n: HAPPY BANGTAN REUNION DAY!! so this wip is old as hell (as in bangtan hadn't even started their military service type old) but i got a sudden surge of writing juice because umm MY BABIES ARE BACK TOGETHER!! a momentous occasion must be paired with another equally momentous occasion (i.e., me gaining the energy to write.) the full thing will be posted soon... i hope... BYE!!
part of the “heart full of hugot” series
A week passes by, and you almost forget about your pathetic cry for help. You had tried to continue writing your “romance” story for your creative writing project, but you are halfway through giving up on the genre and reverting to your tried and true method of writing angsty fictional prose instead. That is, until Namjoon frantically runs up to your home in a hurry, banging on your door like that one time when he desperately needed to use your toilet.
You crack your door open to peer up at him suspiciously, his bright and eager smile doing nothing to quell the sudden urge to run and hide under your bed. A smiling and quiet Namjoon is never a good Namjoon; an omen, if anything.
“What do you want?” You growl, eyes narrowed when he ungracefully wedges himself past you and into your cramped dormitory. After you lock your door behind him, you turn to see him standing in the middle of your room with his hand outstretched towards you, offering his phone to you wordlessly.
“You’re weirding me out,” you breathed tiredly, taking his phone and squinting at the screen. It has a blurry picture of the campus board near the mess hall, littered with announcements for university events, tutoring services, and dubious Halloween parties. At the center of the photo is a specific advertisement that looks out of place, but whoever had taken the photo (i.e., Namjoon) clearly didn’t care about photography quality, as the words are hardly decipherable.
“Dude, I can’t read this. It’s an open call for… a script?” You guess, only able to make out the heading of the advertisement. You chuck the phone back at Namjoon, who unsurprisingly isn’t agile enough to catch it.
“Yeah! My boyfriend—” Namjoon stops suddenly, clearing his throat. “Erm, I mean… My friend told me about it. He said he knows a guy who knows a girl who knows a professor who knows a dog—”
“Get on with it already!” You snap, already losing your non-existent patience.
“—well, okay, I was getting there,” Namjoon huffs, squatting down to pick up his fallen phone. He shows you the photo again, as if the worthless smudge of color on his screen would do anything to answer your questions. “My point is that an anonymous theater student just put out an open call for manuscript submissions for any film, TV pilot, or play. Apparently, they want something challenging to help them practice or something.”
“And how does this have something to do with me…?” You scowl, rubbing your temples in annoyance. Namjoon knows you’re already swamped with enough writing projects as it is, so why on earth would you randomly donate one of your drafts to some weirdo theater student?
“Well, you asked to get set up with someone, remember? This is literally the perfect opportunity!” Namjoon claps his hands, his grin oozing with misplaced self-satisfaction.
…
What the fuck?
When you remain quietly dumbfounded for what feels like ten entire minutes, Namjoon clears his throat to explain. “Oh, c’mon! They asked for some challenging acting practice. Nothing is more mind-numbingly difficult than being your significant other, for sure!”
You feel a blood vessel pop; you hope it’s a vital one. “Once again, I have to ask… How lowly do you think of me?” You growl, your cheeks growing hot from anger, frustration, and murderous intent.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Namjoon soothes, patting your head condescendingly before he flops down on your unmade bed. He even has the audacity to start picking at your half-eaten bag of chips, contaminating your sheets with his stray crumbs and the germs from his outside clothes. “Just think about it. It’s a win-win situation, don’t you think? He gets an acting practice partner, and you get a dating practice partner. How can this ever go wrong?”
He says it so matter-of-factly that it almost convinces you to turn off your brain and go along with the idea. If you’re being honest, your desperation for human connection is almost concerning, so you have no idea why you’re acting so opposed to the idea. Maybe you do have some shred of dignity, after all.
“I dunno, Namjoon… Isn’t this kind of incel behavior?” You sigh, dropping your face into your hands in defeat.
Namjoon munches on your chips thoughtfully for a moment. “I mean, yeah, a little bit,” he starts, but he scrambles to clarify his words when your face immediately turns deathly pale. “But! Hey, this anonymous drama kid is probably even worse than you. They’re probably some awkward nerd who plays D&D and MTG on the weekends.”
“Namjoon, we’re both nerds who play D&D and MTG on the weekends,” you mumble, but your rebuttal is ignored in favor of another large mouthful of chips.
“I’m just saying… It’s worth a shot. At least consider submitting your suggestion? You never know what could happen,” he shrugs. He then crumples the finished bag of junk food into a tight ball, shooting it into your trash can. It misses.
He stands up from your bed in all his lanky glory, dusting off his crumbs onto your carpet before shooting you a lopsided, dimpled grin. “Well, I better be going. I’ll text you the email address for the acting suggestion submission thing. My job here is done.”
You glare at him as he salutes you mockingly, as if he’d just bestowed you with God’s greatest gift (his mind). “What the fuck? Why are you acting as though I’m going to agree to do this?” You call out after him, but your query goes unanswered as he turns to leave and abruptly slams your door in your face.
As you stew in defiant rage in your crumb-infested dorm room, you swear to delete his text message with the contact details of the anonymous theater kid at your earliest convenience. No way in hell would you give Namjoon the satisfaction of knowing he had “helped” you. You can remain single for the rest of your life, fake boyfriend or not. You would not stoop.
