#mr. sunshine

[buggleboos]

This very cute guy

[haeyeongs]

#KDRAMAWOMENSWEEKS | Hitmaker Kim Tae-ri's incredible filmography since 2016

The Handmaiden (2016) · 1987: When the Day Comes (2017) · Little Forest (2018) · Mr. Sunshine (2018) · Space Sweepers (2021) · Twenty-Five, Twenty-One (2022) · Alienoid (2022) + Alienoid: Return to the Future (2024) · Revenant (2023) · Jeongnyeon: The Star is Born (2024)

[bebx]

Mr. Sunshine x Inhun crossover

Eugene survived the event in the show and somehow time traveled / was teleported to the modern day.

He meets Gi-hun.

Gi-hun thinks Eugene is In-ho messing with his head. So he’s hostile. Meanwhile Eugene just wants to know where he is and why is everything so strange.

In-ho later shows up at Gi-hun’s motel. He just wants to continue messing with Gi-hun (liar, he misses Gi-hun and can’t stay away). He sees Eugene, a man with his face, and his first thought is that Gi-hun replaced him with a knockoff.

Eugene sees In-ho, a man with his face, and thinks “what kind of sorcery is this?”

Gi-hun walks into the room and suddenly there are two In-hoes(??????????) *brain short circuits* “why are there TWO of them??????”

Everybody is confused. Nobody is having a good time.

[self-ish-voib]

this was the plot of pikuniku right

[lockssteps]

[oliv3ruhhh]

[ballgamelover1997]

"Rain and Shine" Since I've Gotten some Comments about it on Twitter, Here's Elnina and Lanino petting Glyde and Mr. Sunshine. (Both Having "Dark World" Designs.)

[honeyedsyntax]

Older

You weren't new to the spotlight.

You were used to your body being picked apart — your walk, your lips, the shape of your collarbone in a campaign for Saint Laurent. But this?

This was different.

What started as a blurry photo, you walking into a hotel, him following behind, no words exchanged, just the faint suggestion of his hand at your back, turned into a wildfire of headlines. No statement. No confirmation. Just silence and a slow unraveling of every detail you thought you could keep for yourself.

They called you all kinds of things.

"What does a 24-year-old see in a man pushing 55?"

"Are we just normalizing this now?"

"She's smart. He's rich. We get it."

"This can't be love."

You told yourself it didn't matter. You told yourself he didn't care. And maybe he didn't, at least not in the ways that showed.

In the quiet of his Gangnam penthouse, legs tangled under expensive sheets, you'd once asked him, "Do you care about the noise?"

He didn't answer at first. He never rushed with words. Just reached for your ankle under the covers, fingers warm, and tugged you toward him with that maddening ease. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.

"They don't know you."

He kissed you slow that night — the kind of kiss that didn't try to prove anything. Just stayed.

Still, the tension built with every new article, every speculative video breakdown, every side-eye at fashion week. And maybe you could've lived with all of it, if not for what happened in Cannes.

You wore archival Versace — black, backless, with your hair slicked up to show every angle they said made you "look older." It didn't matter. You still felt their stares when you walked into the afterparty alone. Their whispers, their camera phones tilted slightly down, like they weren't really recording but always were.

You knew where he was. He was always close.

You caught his eye near the bar, his suit immaculate, hair neatly styled, drink in hand. He didn't smile. He never did when eyes were on him. But he watched you like a man who already knew what it felt like to lose you.

And then Jay appeared. Mid-20s. Model-slash-actor. Pretty, confident, loud in the way only men your age could afford to be.

"Didn't think I'd see you here alone," he said, grinning like he knew something you didn't.

"I'm not alone," you replied, turning your body ever so slightly away.

"Right," he laughed. "You're with... him."

You didn't answer.

Jae leaned in, his voice dropping as he added, "Come on. You're gorgeous, but you're not dumb. He's old enough to be—"

"You done?" said a voice behind him.

Not loud. Not aggressive. Just there. Just him

Jay froze mid-sentence.

Byung-hun stood a step behind, posture relaxed, expression unreadable. But his voice cut through the air like a warning bell — quiet, and impossible to ignore.

Jay's smirk faded. He looked between you both, then backed off with a half-laugh, half-apology. "Didn't mean anything by it," he said. But he left fast.

For a few seconds, the world quieted. Just music, muted voices, and the space between you.

"You didn't have to do that," you said softly.

He didn't look at you right away. Just watched the crowd, unreadable as ever. "You didn't want me to?"

"No," you admitted. "I wanted you to do more."

His eyes shifted then. Slow. Sharp. He stepped closer, hand brushing your back with just enough pressure to make your breath catch. Across the rooftop, a camera flash went off.

You didn't flinch. Neither did he.

Let them take the picture.

You were done pretending you weren't his.

The internet did the rest.

A TikTok edit — you on the red carpet, walking ahead of him, hips swaying in couture. He pauses a step behind, gaze locked on you. The sound is slowed. A breathy remix of "Older" plays under the clip. The top comment reads: "He's looking at her like she's already gone."

Another post goes viral — a paparazzi shot outside a hotel. You're mid-laugh, head tilted back. He's looking down at you, one hand resting protectively at your waist. His other hand holds a phone. His body is turned toward yours like it's muscle memory.

Then came the video.

Leaked. Not posed. Just a quiet moment in his kitchen: you in one of his shirts, barefoot, slicing fruit at the counter. He walks in behind you, says something too soft for the mic to catch. You smile, barely. He leans down and presses a kiss to your shoulder like it's the most natural thing in the world.

No makeup. No angles. Just him. Just you.

The comments flood in.

"Why does this feel so real?"

"You don't fake that kind of intimacy."

"I hope this ruins me."

"He's obsessed. You can tell."

He didn't ask you to deny it. Never once asked you to hide. But you could feel the shift in him every time someone younger, prettier, bolder, tried to touch what wasn't theirs.

Sometimes, when you were lying in his bed after the city had gone quiet, you wondered if this was still about you — or about everything he thought he didn't deserve.

One night, on the balcony of a hotel in Milan, you found him standing with his back to the city. His sleeves were rolled up, collar undone, moonlight brushing the edges of his hair.

You stepped beside him, silent.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm ruining you," you whispered.

He didn't move. Just looked at you, steady.

"You're not."

"They don't take you seriously anymore," you murmured. "People think I'm a phase."

He turned to you fully now. You hadn't even noticed your hand curling into your sleeve, like you were bracing for something. He reached for it, gently, thumb brushing over the inside of your wrist like he was memorizing your pulse.

"They can talk all they want," he said. "But they don't get to touch you."

You didn't cry. Not then. But something in you softened, like tension finally released from the bone.

The morning you left for a campaign shoot in Paris, he didn't say much. Just walked you to the car, pressed a slow kiss to your temple before the door closed.

Someone caught the moment. Of course they did.

By the time you landed, it was all over social media: you in sunglasses, him in black. His hand in your hair, his mouth just barely grazing your skin.

The caption:

"Older men don't look at women like that unless they've already chosen them."

The comments:

"They're either in love or in very, very deep."

"I hope she breaks his heart. Just to see what happens."

"No one survives this kind of thing intact."

You saw the post late that night, lying in bed in a Paris hotel suite.

You didn't reply. You didn't like it.

But you saved it.

And you watched it twice.

And then, just once more.

who wouldn't want to be his controversial young gf?

wattpad saw this first request box is open!<3