#Hapjeong station

[k-star-holic]

Lim Young-woong "sold Roasted sweet potatoes at Hapjeong station in the past...there's a lot of worry these days" (Marich)

[bradykettle]

Rice Factory @ Hapjeong Station

[trendingdrama]

When I've had a rough day, but have no one to rant to,I take Line Two. Why? This line is a loop,so it goes around Seoul. Time passes by quickly when I watch people.I remain in the subway until sundown. Then in between Dangsan and Hapjeong Stations,I get to see the best sunset in Seoul. The sunset helps me forget how awful of a day I had. It just makes me want to go home.

QUEEN OF TEARS 눈물의 여왕 (2024)

[rarepears]

I want to read solo leveling fics that incorporate more of seoul's special characteristics.

For instance, Seoul has a LOT of underground markets. Some of the underground markets are connected to the metro stations. Some of them are not. They are all great for crossing busy intersections without waiting for the pedestrian lights to turn green - you can just take the stairs down to the underground market and go through one of the dozens of exits they have.

Beru, as an ant, naturally likes hanging out at the underground markets the most. Being underground is the most comfortable to him and his ant instincts.

(But also think about social media. There's going to be dozens of tiktok videos about how, when visiting Seoul, make sure to stop by the Hapjeong Station's underground market because S ranked Hunter Sung Jinwoo's monster is known to be a regular visitor at the rice cake stall there. And that's station is a 5 minute walk from the World cup Market (Mangwon Market) anyways, so you should stop by that station regardless.)

S ranked Sung Jinwoo, now that money isn't a problem, takes his sister out for a day at Lotte World, an amusement park.

What about how Sung Jinwoo's very basic English skills is the result of him having a go at being a street food vendor in downtown Myeongdong night market where much of the foreign tourists couldn't speak Korean? He sold Japchae noodles for 5000 won a serving.

[the-mad-dog-of-eckhart]

Toon!que x VADD Collaboration Cafe!🎉

Finally, the opening date of VADD Cafe has been announced: October 31st to November 23rd!

The location is: Cafe Tounique Hapjeong Branch (5-minute walk from Hapjeong Station Exit 3)

All merchandise related to VADD is in the following images:

[askdrzinasia]

Water, umbrellas, curves and play

Seoul got fountains. Like, a lot of them. Both in public squares and places, and like here, inside a shopping mall. It looks like a lot of fun for the kids running and playing with the water, too. Probably very important even on a grey and gricht foggy summer day.

The Mecenatpolis Mall was a fairly new mall in a rapidly developing Hapjeong neighborhood in downtown Seoul when I visit. It was the closest major shopping area to my hotel, and close to a major metro station.

Public transport and market spot

Which was the reason I choose this hotel. Getting around major cities in Asia starts with finding accomodation near public transport hubs. Then easy access to basic staples like water and food.

Unless, of course, part of the sought after travelling experience is spending hours in a taxi queueing sloooooowly in carfilled, crowded city streets.

Worth a visit

I found the food and grocery stalls and shops on the outside of this complex most interesting. But a walk inside gave a view to a modern, colourful and visual very interesting design. Just as a lot of modern malls in a lot of Asians cities are these days.

Making them interesting spot to visit. Even for not so heavy shoppers like me. See more photos from Mecenatpolis Mall.

[jacksoncrabb]

We Like It Raw; Dining near Hapjeong-dong station, Seoul, South Korea

We Like It Raw; Dining near Hapjeong-dong station, Seoul, South Korea

There I was standing on a street corner just outside of Hapjeong-dong station, thinking about what I should have for lunch, when I heard a familiar voice shouting amongst the traffic sounds. Looking around, I knew that voice… and I thought to myself, nah it cannot be... It’s impossible he’s not supposed to be here for another week? Justin he’s still supposed to be in Yeosu, teaching. I turn my…

[aku-cinta]

https://www.instagram.com/p/BjY6oKLgUgx

[bykmj-blog]

우동 (Udon, 乌冬面)

[hobivore]

What the water gave us

#1: It’s Only Frickin’ Tuesday

↠ PAIRING: water ghost!MYG x reader (f) (+ neighbour!JJK x reader—it’s a little complicated, y’all)

↠ WORDS: 3.2K

↠ GENRE: ghost AU, strangers to lovers

↠ RATING: explicit (18+)

↠ SYNOPSIS: What was supposed to be a quiet Tuesday night in the middle of a hectic week is ruined by the sudden arrival of a strange man. 

The worst part? He doesn’t want to leave your bathtub.  

↠ WARNINGS: mentions of death by drowning, they’re lowkey idiots, slight enemies to lovers vibes, a bit of everything (fluff, angst, eventual smut)

Chapter warnings: none in particular

↠ A/N: This story is part of the In the Spoop collab for Halloween 2021, hosted by the lovely @wwilloww. A big thank you to Willow and @hobisuniverse, @augustbutwinter, @sahmfanficbts​, @kkulfm​ and @xjoonchildx for the fun times and the support. Don’t forget to check out their amazing stories! And special thanks to Calix @calixwrites and August & Evie for beta-reading this chapter. 

Happy Halloween everyone! 👻

↠ previous | next | wtwgu masterlist 

© madseok Do not repost, translate or use my stories without my permission.

The door closes behind you with a heavy thud. 

Ignoring the water dripping off your raincoat and onto the laminate floor, you toe off your sneakers and shuffle towards the kitchen, arms full of groceries. 

A slender body curls itself around your calf and you nearly stumble head first into the wall. 

“Shi—Gimbap!” you shriek. “Watch out, you dodo.” 

Gimbap ignores your struggle and meows, rubbing his head against the fabric of your jeans. 

“Yes, yes,” you mutter, dropping the bags on the kitchen counter. “I’m hungry too. And tired.”

The white cat stays glued to your heels, whiny meows raising in pitch as soon as you get the bag of kibble out. 

“There you go.” 

You stroke Gimbap’s back and sigh, watching him chew his food. Your whole body aches and your brain feels like cotton candy; sweet and pink and utterly useless, melting away at the smallest thought. 

These days everything slips through your fingers like water. Hours, days, weeks—you stopped keeping track of them a long time ago. These days, you measure time in projects.

You look at the clock on the microwave. 8:37 pm. You’ve always valued being able to make your own schedule, but it’s simultaneously the privilege and drawback of working from home. Lately work seems to be getting ahead of you and it’s winning the race, leaving you behind with a sprained ankle and no way of catching up. 

A quick glance at your phone tells you it’s Tuesday, October 31st. A bunch of notifications clutter the screen and you open the chat. 

Iseul🥀: drinks at 10

Iseul🥀: get your game on 🧛‍♀️

Iseul🥀: let’s meet at hapjeong station

Hyunjoo: 👻👻👻🍷

Someone is typing…

The pings come in quick succession and you groan—you’d completely forgotten about Halloween, and there’s no way Iseul will let you get away with wearing that ugly witch costume for another year. 

A tightness wraps itself around your chest. The costume isn’t that big of a problem, but you have a project due on Thursday and you’re not going to make it if you don’t pull an all-nighter coding. 

You will yourself to take a deep breath, shivering in your damp jeans and hoodie. The October chill seeps into your bones through the tile floor and the wet strands of hair still plastered against your forehead. 

Sending an apology to the group chat about not making it tonight, you throw your phone on the kitchen counter and bend down to scratch Gimbap behind the ears. 

“Don’t judge me,” you huff as he pads after you through the hallway. You know he can’t hear you—Gimbap was born deaf, one of the reasons why he has spend half his life in a shelter—yet it feels like he understands you sometimes. “I’ll join them next time. Promise.”

It’s cold and rainy outside anyway, you tell yourself, ignoring the pang of regret when you leave your buzzing phone behind. 

If you work a few extra hours tonight you can finish the project. You’ll throw a meal together and eat it in the comfort of your bathtub with a glass of wine and your laptop. 

“Stop whining,” you squint at Gimbap’s blue, judgemental eyes, “you should be happy I’m staying home with you tonight.”

You turn on the bath tap, adjusting the temperature—scorching hot—and rummage through the soap baskets while the bath slowly fills with water. 

Your bathroom is stuffed to the brim with a potpourri of colourful bath bombs and soaps, courtesy of your sister, who runs a small soap business. She regularly sends you boxes full of handmade soap with the most ridiculous names. 

Most of the packages are accompanied by loving but slightly passive-aggressive notes reminding you to ‘relax and get out more’. 

She’s right, of course, although you’d never admit it to her face. 

Your eyes skim over ‘Marmalade Madness’, ‘Unicorn Rainbow’ and ‘Lavender Love’ until they fall on a bright yellow and orange bath bomb, ‘It’s Only Frickin’ Tuesday’ printed in bold letters on the label. 

You snort. How fitting. 

The bath bomb dissolves with a fizzling sound, colouring the water with bright orange streaks and filling the room with the sweet and zesty smell of tangerine and citrus. 

Stepping over Gimbap—who’s still complaining loudly—you head back to the kitchen. Maybe you’re not going out tonight, but the least you can do is have dinner before the looming presence of work starts breathing down your neck again.

It’s tempting to climb behind your laptop and order takeout like you’ve done for the past two days. Or was it three? You don’t remember. 

Your eyes fall on the spring onions you bought earlier and you sigh. You should take the time to cook something. 

There’s some leftover rice in the fridge and a jar of kimchi, enough to make a quick bowl of fried rice. You force yourself through the familiar motions of chopping up the onions and frying the eggs. The smell of the food and the heat of the stove clears your head, your body carrying out the tasks without thinking. 

You roll your shoulders, adding a spoonful of gochujang to the pan—and nearly dropping the entire dish when a loud splash makes you jump.

“Bap!” you shout, even though the cat won’t hear you. “Please don’t break something again.” 

It stays suspiciously silent. 

“Why can’t I have just one moment to myself,” you grumble, taking the pan off the stove and wiping your hands on a towel. 

The bathroom door stands ajar and the faint sound of splashing water greets you from across the hallway. 

Did you forget to turn off the tap? Did Gimbap fall into the bathtub? Panic bubbles up in your chest and you rush towards the door until a low humming stops you dead in your tracks. 

It’s a soft voice. A human voice. 

The hair at the back of your neck rises and a cold shiver runs down your spine. 

There’s someone in your bathroom. 

Vaguely, you recognize the tune—an old trot song you don’t remember the name of. Your hand hovers in the air above the handle, body hidden behind the door. A small sliver of light falls into the hallway but you see no sign of movement, no shadow. 

The voice changes to another song, dropping until it’s little more than a soft murmur, barely audible above the sound of water splashing against the edges of the tub.  

How did they get in? Did you leave the front door open? 

You look at your empty hands. There’s a tremor, nothing like the familiar 3 a.m. caffeine shakes—no, this is all twitching fingers and cold sweat that dampens your palms. 

Slowly, you take a step backwards, mind racing. Get a knife. Get your phone. Get something. 

The door bursts open and you shriek when it hits you in the face. A white blur darts between your legs and you slap a hand over your mouth, but it’s too late—the humming has stopped, and all you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears.

You stand there, frozen in silence, for what feels like eternity. 

In the stillness that descends over the apartment your thoughts are deafening; a void filled only by the rapid firing of neurons. Small blips that begin to crescendo until you’re wondering if maybe you’d imagined things. 

It had probably been Gimbap attempting to eat the bath bombs again, knocking over one of the baskets. If the cat had any flaws—other than being deaf as an adder and not realising the volume of his own screams—it’d be his complete disregard of the measly three lives he still possesses. 

Or perhaps he’s down to two now. 

You step around the door and nearly stumble over the threshold—

There’s a man sitting in your bathtub. 

He is fully clothed, dressed in black with two pale feet propped up on the edge of the tub. His eyes are closed, head tilted back and his dark hair sticks to his forehead. 

The stranger turns his head and cracks one eye open. “Nice soap. Tangerine?”

“Wh—who are you?” you croak. Your heart pounds against your ribcage, a disparity with the fresh and brightly coloured soap stacked against the walls.

The man sits up and brushes the curls out of his eyes. “I’m Yoongi.” 

His voice is deep and a little scratchy, matching the dull look he gives you. 

You blink. Twice. 

He doesn’t ask for your name. In fact, he doesn’t say anything at all, leaning back instead until only his head remains above the water. 

Your gaze sweeps down to the wet floor before settling on his face—he has closed his eyes again and you huff.

“How did you get into my house?”

The man—Yoongi, apparently—slides a hand along the edge of the tub and gives a shrug so lackluster you’d have missed it if it wasn’t for the rippling of the water.

“Don’t know.” 

He does not seem to notice your agitation, or if he does, he doesn’t seem to care. He rests his hands on his thighs and starts to hum the same tune you’d heard earlier. 

The once brightly coloured water has now turned a muddy brown and annoyance flares up in the pit of your stomach, smothering your initial fear.

“You need to get out.”

He reaches a hand behind his head, adjusting your bath pillow. 

Your jaw clenches. The audacity of this man to show up in your house, sneak into your bathroom and use your tub with his dirty clothes on. 

You inhale deeply through your nose in an attempt to throttle your exasperation. Instead you’re hit with a stale, murky aroma that slowly replaces the fresh scent of citrus and only fuels the fire. 

“I said you need to get out.” You raise your voice, pronouncing every syllable with clarity. 

“Shh,” the stranger shushes. 

Your eyebrows nearly disappear into your hairline. 

“Fine,” you grit out. “Stay here then. I’m calling the cops.” 

He doesn’t react so you bite your tongue, swallow your irritation down and stalk out of the bathroom. 

“Who the hell does he think he is?” you mutter to yourself, reaching for your phone on the kitchen counter. Your eyes fall on your half-cooked, cold dinner and you shoot it a sorry look. “Some kind of—” 

Your words are cut off by the flickering light, a series of sudden glimmers before the lamp fizzles out. You blink in rapid succession to adjust your eyes to the darkness—a fruitless attempt—and stumble towards the light switch to flick it against better judgement.

The room stays dark. 

Turning on the flashlight on your phone, you walk towards the front door and poke your head outside. The hallway is pitch black; the entire building must have lost electricity. 

You angle the light into the apartment behind you. There’s no sign of movement but the idea of the stranger being somewhere inside makes you shiver. 

The man didn't seem aggressive or dangerous—mostly just annoying—but here, in the dark, an uneasy feeling frays at the edge of your thoughts. 

You pat your pockets; no keys. You must’ve left them inside. For a moment you hesitate, throwing another glance over your shoulder, then stepping outside instead and pressing the #1 on your phone. 

A bright beam of light nearly blinds you and you throw your arm up to shield your eyes, vaguely making out a dark shadow in the door opening across the hall. 

“Oh—sorry!” The figure angles the flashlight down. “Hello neighbour.” He grins, eyes glittering in the dim light. 

“Hi, Jungkook.” You try to keep your voice steady. “Everything’s down?” 

Jungkook nods. “Seems like it.”

Your eyes sweep over his figure before you quickly avert them and settle on the dark shape poking its head around his leg. 

Jungkook notices your wide-eyed stare and holds the light a little higher. “Hey. You okay?”

“There’s a man in my bathroom,” you whisper. 

“There’s a what?” He tilts his head, confusion written all over his face. 

“A man,” you point towards the dark hallway behind you, “in my bathroom.”

Jungkook frowns and studies your face, half-hidden in the shadows.

Your heart skips a beat.  

Maybe he thinks this is some sort of Halloween prank—you can’t blame him, with how crazy you must sound. You pull down the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to hide the tremor in your fingers but he catches the motion. 

“Wait,” he grabs something from behind the door and hands you the flashlight. “You hold this. Bam, come here.” 

The big dog follows him into your apartment and you hurry after them, angling the flashlight around Jungkook’s back. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss. “And what’s that thing?”

Jungkook pokes around your coat rack. “A scythe—well, not a real one, but the wood is.” He taps it against the wall. “It won’t break.”

The living room is vacant and so is the kitchen. It’s not until you reach the bathroom, the door still standing wide open, that Jungkook finally slows down.

“Bam, here,” he whispers. The Doberman sticks to his side, his floppy ears pointed intently. 

You grasp the back of Jungkook’s rough sweater and aim the flashlight at the tub.  

It’s empty. 

In the stark light the white porcelain gleams even brighter. There’s no water in the tub and the floor is dry and clean. 

Jungkook pokes the scythe between the baskets of soap. “No one’s here,” he shakes his head. “Let’s check the rest of the house.”

You follow him around—head spinning and vision blurry. Jungkook opens every closet and every cabinet, but there’s no sign of Yoongi. 

Where did he go? 

Doubt starts trickling in again. Had you imagined things? 

When was the last time you had a solid eight hours of sleep? Or five even? 

It wouldn’t be the first time something like this has happened. Not the first time you had seen things that weren’t really there. 

Jungkook pushes your bedroom door open and Bam barges forward, barking loudly. 

“Bam, no!” Jungkook shouts. Gimbap darts outside and jumps on the kitchen counter, back arched and hissing loudly. Bam hops around in front of him, his tail wagging in excitement. 

“He still doesn’t like you, Bam.” You pat the dog on his head. “You better watch out, one of these days he’s gonna scratch you.” 

Jungkook comes back and takes the flashlight to check your closet and underneath your bed. “Everything’s clear.” He walks towards Gimbap, who’s still eyeing Bam with a wary look. “At least he likes me.” 

The cat sniffs his hand, rubbing his head against its tattooed back. 

“I’m sorry,” you force a smile. “I must’ve imagined things. It was probably just a shadow in the dark.”

Jungkook beams back at you and you can’t bring yourself to tell him the encounter happened before the lights went out. He doesn’t need to know how messed up your sleep schedule really is. 

“It’s okay, it’s pitch black in here—I’d see ghosts too.” He chuckles. “Do you have any light besides this?” He waves the flashlight around. 

You grab a lighter from a drawer and light a few candles. They illuminate the living room with a cozy, warm light, and for the first time this evening you get the chance to take a proper look at Jungkook. 

He is dressed in a large, black cloak and pasty white make-up with dark circles around his eyes. 

Belatedly you realise you’re still wearing your frumpled hoodie and two different socks. You suppress the urge to look down at your feet and fix your gaze on the little mole under Jungkook’s lip instead. 

Which only makes focussing on your next words harder. 

“Going out for Halloween?” 

“Just Tae’s place. I’m the reaper. Me and Bam.” He pats the dog on the back, his black-and-tan fur covered in white paint. 

“Explains the scythe.” You grab the tool from where it rests against the kitchen counter. In the candlelight you can see the blade is made out of soft plastic, but the wood feels heavy in your hand.  

Jungkook laughs. “Not really something I’d have laying around otherwise, no.” 

You grin. “I’m a little disappointed.” 

“You haven’t seen the rest of my home yet.” He cocks an eyebrow and your stomach does a funny flip.

Heat rises to your cheeks and you cough. “You did a good job with the skeleton.” Bam catches you looking at him and starts wagging his tail again. 

“Thanks. It’s pet friendly paint, of course.” 

A long silence falls between you. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? I mean, I can stay if you want, or you can come—”

“No, I’m fine,” you hastily interject. 

An image floods your mind, of the time he’d stayed over for dinner. A movie playing in the background, his body pressed into your side, his hand on your thigh—

You blink, hard, willing yourself to focus. “Really, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me.” 

Jungkook tilts his head but doesn’t object. “Okay. You know you can always text or call me, right?” 

You smile at him. “I do. Thank you.” You pat his arm before quickly retreating your hand. 

Jungkook stares at his sleeve as if you left behind a permanent mark. 

“I—um, see you around. Because we’re neighbours. Since,” he plucks at the cord around his waist, eyes trained on what appears to be a particularly interesting patch of white paint on the top of Bam’s head, “we, uh, live in the same building…”

“Yes!” you chirp, a little too enthusiastic. “Say hi to Tae from me. And Bam, be a good boy.” 

You bend down to plant a kiss on the dog’s head, missing the way Jungkook’s eyes follow your movement. 

“Call me if something’s up, okay?” He smiles at you. “And keep the flashlight for now, I don’t need it anyway. I don’t know when the electricity will be back on.” 

“Thanks, Kook. I mean it.” You smile back at him, an honest one this time. “Don’t take too many souls tonight.”

Jungkook laughs and you close the door behind him, sinking to the floor with a deep groan and burying your face in your hands. 

You are alone again. There was no stranger named Yoongi, just you and Gimbap—an ordinary night like any other. 

Except for completely embarrassing yourself in front of your cute neighbour. 

You should probably go to bed. You’d finish the project tomorrow; you’re of no use walking around sleep-deprived and hallucinating. 

Dragging yourself into the kitchen, you throw your half-cooked dinner into the trash. You’re not hungry anymore. Your limbs feel heavy and your eyes are tired; the only thing you want now is the solace of your own bed. 

You walk over to the window. The apartments on the other side of the road are dark like yours, some of them lit up with candles or makeshift lights. With the rain still beating down on the facade it feels oddly homey. 

“Is dog boy finally gone?” 

“Ah!” You jump at the sudden voice. Yoongi is standing next to you, his wet clothes plastered against his body. In the faint light his pale skin almost seems to emit a soft glow. 

“Looks like the entire street is down.” His sharp eyes find yours—big and rounded in shock—in the window’s reflection. “Well,” he shrugs, sounding entirely unconvincing, “that’s inconvenient.” 

“W—where did you go?”

“The drain.” He cracks his neck. “You need to descale your pipes more often.” 

He turns around and makes his way back towards the bathroom, leaving you standing dumbfounded in a small puddle by the window, the muddy water seeping into your socks.

Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed this chapter please consider reblogging and leaving a comment or an ask. I’d love to hear from you. Your feedback means the world to me and keeps me going!

↠ Masterlist

[k-star-holic]

Lim Young-woong, Roasted sweet potato at Hapjeong station ⁇ My Little Hero

Source: k-star-holic.blogspot.com

[fyjjong]

undefined

birthday season is upon us! above is a look at an ad for jonghyun's birthday made in collaboration between @mydearmoonkjb and @hourlyjonghyun. the ad will be visible at hapjeong station, line 6, underground 3, cm board vid. no 2 from april 1st - april 14th. (source)

[bts-trans]

210625 Weverse Translations

V's Comment 💬 on ARMY's Post ❇️

💜: 태형이오빠 제가 나이는 훨씬 많지만 오빠 라고 부를래요

금요일 강남에서 합정가는 퇴근길에... 태형오빠 멜론 스테이션 딱 6번 정주행하니 집에 도착했어요. 마지막에 대디듣고 울컥, 너무 감미로운 선곡 이런 기분이라면 강남 합정 일곱번 왕복할수있어요💜

V: 오늘도 고생하셨어요~ https://www.weverse.io/bts/feed/1663621854068934

💜: Taehyungie oppa I'm a lot older but I'm still going to call you oppa

This friday, on my way home from Gangnam to Hapjeong... I had listened to your Melon Station about 6 times on loop when I reached home. Listening to Daddy at the end made me tear up, it was such a beautiful song choice. With this kind of feeling, I could go back and forth between Gangnam to Hapjeong 7 times💜

V: You worked hard today as well~

Trans cr; Aditi @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

V's Comment 💬 on ARMY's Post ❇️ [photo in link]

💜: 태형님 목소리 정말 밤에 들면 웬지 잠이 솔솔 올것 같아요 나중에 라디오 디제이 하면 정말 귀에 꿀 발릴것 같아요🥰🥰🥰

V: 정말 제가 좋아하는 음악 추려서추려서 넣었어요 필살기라고 생각해주세요 .. https://www.weverse.io/bts/feed/1663611369315994

💜: For some reason I feel like listening to Tahyung-nim's voice at night would really help you fall asleep gently, without any trouble If you become an RJ later on I think it would really feel like honey in our ears 🥰🥰🥰

V: I really meticulously picked out music that I like, please think of it as my ultimate killer move ..

Trans cr; Aditi @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

[cnugallery]

B1A4's 11th debut anniversary, 'BANAs cheering

Group B1A4 received an unforgettable gift from their fans on the 11th anniversary of their debut. On the 23rd, Fan N Star released a photo of B1A4's 11th anniversary celebration event, which is being advertised on the CM board at Gangnam-gu Office Station, Gangnam-gu, Seoul. Fans of B1A4 achieved the Fan N Star 'Electric Billboard Advertisement' that was opened on March 4th. The advertisement will be screened on the CM board at Hapjeong Station in Mapo-gu, Seoul from the 18th to the 24th, and at the CM board at Gangnam-gu Office Station in Gangnam-gu, Seoul. B1A4's support was successful, and fans' messages of support poured out on 'Fan N Star'. Fans sent comments such as "B1A4's 11th debut anniversary Hooray Hooray! Happy 11th Anniversary of B1A4's Debut! Thank you so much for making a lot of great songs! Let's be happy! For a long time!", "I will support you forever", etc. In 'Fan N Star', fans can directly open electronic display support for the artist they want. If you can make a video on the signboard yourself, you can apply for 'Special Ads', and if you can't make a video, you can apply for 'Global Ads'.

[source] | apologies for any translation inaccuracies 

[shawolseurope]

💚 WELCOME BACK ONEW 💚

At Hapjeong station 💎

📍장소 : 6호선 합정역

[aion-rsa]

Hellbound Is Even Scarier Than Train to Busan

https://ift.tt/3Fko1Ka

This Hellbound review is based on the first three episodes of the Netflix series. It contains minor spoilers.

We’re all going to die, but most of us don’t know when, how, or what will happen to us (if anything) after the inevitable event. This is a reality we all live with, and that much of modern life under capitalism actively encourages us to ignore. Hellbound, Netflix‘s six-part supernatural horror from Train to Busan director Yeon Sang-ho, asks: what happens when we are forced to face that reality, not only on a personal level but a societal one. It’s a particularly poignant premise in a world that has seen more than five million deaths from COVID in under two years, but it’s an inherently timeless one too, previously explored with similar intensity in standout series The Leftovers. Hellbound, which drops on Friday, does a superb job of exploring the difficult, topical question, often to horrifying results. In a week that will see the release of many much-anticipated shows—from Netflix’s Cowboy Bebop to Amazon Prime’s Wheel of Time—Hellbound is the very best.

How does Hellbound force its characters to face their own mortality en masse? Through something that looks a hell of a lot like divine intervention: In the series’ opening minutes (shown in the first trailer for the series), massive, Hulk-like monsters appear out of nowhere to chase a man through the busy, daylit streets of downtown Seoul. The monsters beat the man to death and then burn him to a crisp with their otherworldly powers. Then, they disappear just as mysteriously as they came, through a portal into what seems like another realm. As you might imagine, there are not only many bystanders to this event, but many of them film the horrific killing, with the footage going viral.

The first three episodes of Hellbound are less concerned with explaining how this supernatural event happened and more interested in depicting how different elements of society will respond. People are understandably terrified, and looking for answers that can fit into their understanding of the world. Traditional institutions—from law enforcement to broadcast media—don’t have them. We see just how in-over-their-heads the Seoul police department is by following world-weary detective Jin Kyeong-hoon (Yang Ik-june). Jin is one of the officers assigned to the Hapjeong Station murder, which is being treated as a “typical” killing rather than one perpetrated by demon-monsters. Jin and company look for an explanation as to how this tragedy happened, but are soon waylaid into dealing with the fear-driven harassment and violence that result from the phenomenon.

Into the space formed by society’s desperation for an explanation steps cult leader Jeong Jin-soo (Yoo Ah-in, in a standout performance). Chairman Jeong, as he’s known to his followers, is the 30-something founder and leader of The New Truth, a religious organization that has been following the monster-killings for more than a decade. Through Jeong, we learn that these killings come with a prophecy. Prior to the murders, the victims will be visited by a “messenger” who tells them of their impending doom. Literally a giant face will appear in the air, telling the victim both when they will die (it could be in five days, it’s could be in five years), and that they are bound from hell. Then, at the prophesied time, that death will come to pass. Jeong proclaims that these occurrences are acts of a god who has grown tired of waiting for humanity’s righteousness. He claims that those who have been chosen for “demonstrations” are sinners, and encourages his followers to uncover the sinful acts that have led to their condemnation.

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Raised in a Catholic orphanage after having been abandoned by his mother, Jeong has serious Tom Riddle energy. He revels in his influence, and seems to enjoy manipulating people (especially Detective Jin) in the most brutal of ways, all while maintaining an air of detached, masculine civility that makes it difficult to call him out on his calculated cruelty. But he’s also the only person offering anything like answers, and he has gained devoted followers who worship him like a messiah for his teachings. (A subsect of his followers known as the Arrowhead have taken judgment into their own hands, targeting those they deem worthy of punishment and executing it.) Much of the tension of the first three episodes revolves not around what the mysterious monsters’ motivations are, but what Jeong’s motivations are, and what he is planning to do with his growing influence. The answer, which comes at the halfway mark of the series is both unexpected and recognizable, and spurs the series into its second half with new narrative energy.

Hellbound is often difficult to watch, both for its depiction of violence (multiple people are brutally beaten, sometimes to death) and its realistic portrayal of how masses of people can be spurred to hate, violence, and fanaticism. As with Train to Busan, the scariest parts of Hellbound are not the monsters (though they are very scary), but rather people who choose to turn away from their capacity to empathize and towards their ability to enact violence on one another. Unlike Train to Busan, Hellbound has even more time to tease out the process of how that can happen, which makes it even more terrifying to watch. In Busan, the zombie pandemic overtakes the populace quickly, leaving society very little time to dwell on what they will do next. In Hellbound, the horror comes with the time and space to organize and rationalize, which makes the choices to hate and kill feel more reprehensible and disappointing, even if those actions are driven by the same instinctual fear at play in Busan. In what is perhaps the script’s greatest strength, Hellbound recognizes the valid, real-world reasons for erosion in institutional faith that increasingly seems to shape our modern societies. It builds its depiction of the rise of fanaticism on the failure and inflexibility of the systems we’ve built.

I’m fascinated by auteur-driven projects that have a long, productive development process in the form of previous incarnations of the same story, or a long development period. Fleabag was a one-woman stage show performed by Phoebe Waller-Bridge before it became one of the best TV series of all time. Squid Game creator Hwang Dong-hyuk came up with the idea for the Netflix phenomenon 13 years before he was able to get it made and released. Hellbound is also a series with immense care and intention behind it; even if you don’t know that while watching the supernatural drama, you can feel it in every frame and line of dialogue. This in part surely comes from a probably inadvertent process of workshopping the story and world. Yeon, who got his start in animation before moving into live-action with Train to Busan, first visited this story-world in Jiok/The Hell;, an 11-minute animated short he released back in 2006. In 2019, Yeon returned to the world in the form of a Naver webtoon of the same name, which he co-wrote with Choi KyuSuk. Reading the comic after watching Hellbound is like reading a storyboard of the series, so similar are some of the shots.

So much of what makes it onto our screens is undercooked, and for understandable reasons. There is such a demand for content—especially as streamers like Netflix, Disney, and Apple look to gobble up new markets in their global expansion—that series often don’t have the time or other resources to execute a clear vision, if one even exists in the first place. Hellbound is an ambitious, terrifying show with the kind of specificity of intention that is rare in our saturated media landscape. It asks the kinds of questions few mainstream stories are willing to broach in any meaningful way, and its depictions of social horror will stay with you long after its monsters have faded from memory. That is my prophecy.

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Hellbound will be available to watch on Netflix beginning on Friday, November 19th.

The post Hellbound Is Even Scarier Than Train to Busan appeared first on Den of Geek.

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