If there's anything I've learned its that there isn't enough Junghope in the world. I've taken to gathering all my crappy oneshot ideas and compiling them into this book for you to enjoy. 🐠
Im sick as fuck guys, so this is really jumbled and what not due to my lack of health. I had to resist the urge of turning this into a meme with the song choice. Like Billy Joel We didn t start the fire? Or NCT? Or BTS themselves like??? Which song do I chose but here take this garbage.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Hoseok was a fairly good student, he kept his grades above a C-, he had a nice inner circle of friends but there was something wrong.
Something terribly, horribly, wrong. Hoseok was in love with fire. He was in love with the smell of smoke, he was in love with the power that fire held, he was in love with the way the flames would twist and twirl trying to touch all that it could before it faded.
Not a single person knew. Yes Hoseok's parents would give him strange looks on days he would come home past curfew, the times he came home smelling like smoke but not smoke from cigarettes.
Hoseok was a good kid, his parents didn't question him about it often. His mother did show concern once when she found a box of fireworks stashed deep in his closet.
He had no explanation for them and ignored all his mothers questions which resulted him getting grounded for two days.
Namjoon and Yoongi once thought Hoseok had some sort of smoking addiction. He had dozens of lighters in his back pack which was revealed when he tripped over with the zipper open.
They also thought this because Hoseok took five minutes of his lunch to go off by himself. Both of his friends thought that was the time he took to smoke. After digging deeper they realized Hoseok didn't smell like cigarettes or weed. He smelled like fire.
His friends soon forgot about it, glad that their best friend was not hooked on something that could harm him.
Hoseok knew better, he knew he was hooked on something very dangerous.
Monday night Hoseok would stay at home. He'd burn pieces of paper and then toss them in the toilet before the flames caught his fingers. He learned to cover his tracks by setting off candles.
Tuesday night Hoseok went out to the shops. That meant thrift stores where he would pick up oddities to suffocate with the flame, clothes that needed to be burned anyway, books, paintings, the card decks that didn't have all 52 cards.
Then he'd go to the old chili lot to see if they had any new fireworks he was looking for. There was a usual crowd of people at the parking lot, a horde of children kicking a soccer ball, the men who had just gotten off of work, the older women who maned the chili operations. He felt slightly out of place with all the spanish that was thrown around, but he loved the heat that radiated from the chili.
If he decided not to buy from his guys at the lot, he headed a few blocks over to an old warehouse. The sign out front said 'We sell card board, fireworks, and VHS tapes'. Hoseok had only started going to the store once he got his drivers license, before then he had never even touched a firework.
