Bungee Jumping Of Their Own | Squid Game

“Coming Out? No, Just Coming Over” (post-Games 457, Inho returns home, ft. one very emotionally intelligent stepmother)

After the Games collapse and the dust settles, Junho (bless his stubborn heart) basically drags Inho back into reality. He knows their mom hasn’t stopped setting out an extra bowl at dinner. Knows she still prays for the son who walked out the door and never came back. So he tells Inho it’s time. It’s long past time.

And Inho? He’s terrified. Like pacing-anxiously-wringing-his-hands-nearly-backing-out kind of terrified. He doesn’t believe he deserves forgiveness. Doesn’t believe she’ll even want to see him.

Junho’s patient with him. Too patient, really. But he knows his brother, knows how shame can build walls thicker than steel. So he waits. Coaxes. Tells him over and over: She never stopped waiting for you.

Eventually, Inho cracks. Quietly. One afternoon, he says, “Maybe I could visit. Just once.”

That’s when Gihun steps in. Gentle voice. Soft hand on the shoulder. “You don’t have to do it alone.” And Inho—without even thinking—asks him to come.

So it’s the three of them standing outside her apartment door, Junho knocking once, twice. And when she opens it and sees her eldest, the step-son she thought she’d lost, it’s like everything stills.

No yelling. No slamming doors. Just her pulling him in, sobbing into his chest. Her tiny frame wrapped around him like she’s trying to make up for years in a single hug. Inho doesn’t cry, but his eyes are glassy. Junho turns away, giving them space. Gihun just gently rests a hand on Inho’s back. No words. Just here.

Dinner is…awkward at first. But his mom, bless her, keeps the conversation moving. Gently asking questions, slowly reminding Inho what it means to belong somewhere. She asks Gihun where he’s from, what he does—never once hinting at anything beyond friendship. Just polite, motherly curiosity, doting in the way mothers do when they’re trying to say thank you without making anyone uncomfortable.

Gihun answers easily. Inho mostly picks at his food and listens, shoulders slowly lowering with every minute. At one point, she turns to Inho with a soft smile.

“So… how did you and Gihun meet?”

And he freezes. He feels Gihun glance at him, but doesn’t look back. The truth is a minefield, too fragile and too brutal to speak aloud.

So he lies. “Junho introduced us. A while back.”

There’s a tiny pause. Gihun doesn’t say anything. Neither does Junho. His mother smiles like she believes him. Maybe she does. Maybe she doesn’t. But she doesn’t press. She just nods, and keeps talking, filling the space for him.

(She also calls Gihun “handsome” at one point. Inho definitely chokes on his rice.)

Later, when she offers to let them stay the night, Inho starts to decline—but she insists. “It’s just one night. It’s late. You’ll be more comfortable here.” Inho starts to protest, voice strained—but Gihun nudges him gently with a look that says it’s okay. So Inho nods.

She disappears down the hall to set something up. They sit in the dim room, Gihun’s knee brushing his, Junho already half-asleep on the floor like it’s ten years ago and nothing ever changed. When she returns, she just says, “There you go,” nods toward the spare room, and excuses herself to bed. No fanfare.

She disappears before they can thank her.

Inho hesitates before standing. There’s that gnawing in his chest again. He’s already preparing himself for two bedrolls. For separation. For unspoken lines drawn in thin blankets.

But when they walk in—

There’s only one bedroll on the floor. Blankets, pillows, neat and shared like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Inho stares. Gihun stares. Neither of them moves.

No assumptions. No jokes. Just this quiet, deliberate gesture wrapped in soft flannel. A thousand words unsaid—but understood.

Inho crouches down slowly, brushing his hand over the blanket. “She knew,” he says, barely above a whisper. “She didn’t say anything, but… she knew.”

Gihun kneels beside him. “Yeah.”

And Inho finally lets his head drop, shoulders caving, some deep ache inside him spilling out in a quiet, trembling breath.

They lie side by side that night in silence, facing the ceiling, fingers brushing.

Home isn’t loud. It’s not a welcome parade.

It’s one bedroll on a wooden floor, and a mother who sees everything.

I have this one-shot planned too.

lee byung-hun as kim sun-woo in a bittersweet life suffered more than any character in any movie or tv show I've ever seen (and I’ve seen a lot of media in this genre). like I was actually extremely shocked by the amount and degree of pain and torture they put him through????

it's like they killed him about a dozen times in this movie and just kept repeatedly shooting at his corpse again and again and it still hurt every time. and now I think I'm traumatized :( like a part of me died when he comforted himself by telling himself “it’s okay” — while covered in his own blood after getting stabbed multiple times — because he literally didn’t have anybody to comfort him. and yeah coming from someone who loves seeing her favorite fictional characters go through the worst kind of hell, I genuinely want nothing but love and happiness and lots of hugs for him. someone please wrap this poor guy in blankets and protect him from all the harm in the world please :(

please he’s just a little guy :(

this photo is insane to me because it looks exactly like Gi-hun eventually joining In-ho’s side and both of them becoming Front Men who run the game together. the power this photo radiates is insane.

The reason why I love InHun—aside from the incredible chemistry—is the dynamic. The frontman, a cold-hearted guy who's lost every ounce of hope in humanity, joined the games as Youngil because he was so pissed that a random dude held on to his stupid heroic beliefs until the very end of the first game. His only purpose was to witness him break, to see him become as hopeless as he is, to see the world the same way he does—only for Gihun to prove himself stronger than that, showing Inho that not even the worst monstrosities of human nature can make him lose hope. Inho hasn't seen anyone else believe in goodness and fight for it as much as Gihun has, and I believe a part of him admires him for it.

hehe / not hehe

when we were kids, we would play just like this,

and our moms would call us in for dinner.

but no one calls us anymore.

Obligatory Soulmark AU heh

Also soulmark is supposed to be on the left hand, 🤦🏽‍♀️I’m an idiot lol

ship where one of them is divorced, the other’s partner is dead. two broken and traumatized men finding each other by fate, blood and violence, in a cruel, corrupted world that dooms them to hatred and betrayal and destines them both to be each other’s archenemies. but despite the pain, despite deaths and betrayal looming over their heads, maybe this little moment of soft eyes and gentle smiles is real. maybe, just for this moment, we can pretend the world outside isn’t real and nothing else matters. just for this moment, we can pretend this was another universe where we’re not cursed by blood and suffering, another universe where our love for each other is not doomed or forbidden. just for this moment, we can just be us.

Seong Gi-hun and Hwang In-ho, I love you both with all my heart.

time this was posted: 4:57 AM

Gi hun: Please? For me?

In ho: Dont do that.

Gi hun: What?

In ho: You think that every time you say "please, for me?" I'll do whatever you want. But not this time.

Gi hun: Please? For me?

In ho:

In ho: Okay.

I still trust you. I’d like to play the game with you, if that’s okay?