,, dowon !

min dowon . 27 . center point . local bartender ?

[xdowonx]

hello hello! nice to meet everyone! i’m eun (she/her, kst timezone), the writer behind my baby, min dowon! as the acceptance post states, he’s a real hard-working 27-year-old, part-time convenience store clerk by day and a local bartender at a bar called “honey night” by night, that lives on in unit ? on the B2 floor. he’s been at center point for about ? years. despite his whole piercings + motorcycle + leather + not sure what’s going on with his hair look, dowon is a real sweetheart who’s not very good at maintaining a poker face. he’s lowkey kind of a remake of one of my old muses like a nicer, less bad boy concept version, so i am still figuring him out! but if you want to know more about him, you can see his profile/stats and his bio on their respective sites. i’ll also leave some headcanons under the cut! + i also have some plots here (and will be adding more to them in the near future), but we can also just brainstorm if that’s what you prefer! pls like this post to plot and i’ll slide into your im’s (or we can use discord if that’s more comfortable for you! add me on #eunie6676) 

i. a golden mama’s boy — he’s never known his father, which makes him extremely affectionate toward his mother who raised him on her own !! his mom is an experienced pediatrics nurse, and dowon visits her at the hospital when he can (and his sick baby cousin, whom he adores). he ended up dropping out of hanyang university as an economics major to save money and help pay for his cousin’s medical bills. his current goal is to save up enough money to actually own and manage a bar for himself.

ii. as stated above, dowon pretty much wears his heart on his sleeve, which is both a great strength and weakness. he’s not very good at keeping his feelings under a cap, is easily hurt (emotionally), and is quick to get into fights when provoked. but !! it also means that he’ll get happy and excited over the little things, like having a fully stamped coupon or finding a dollar on the street, and will empathize with and feel for you whenever you’re unraveling a story.

iii. on that note, as a bartender, he hears a lot of things about a lot of different people, mostly the tenants at center point (drunk people are so chatty, aren’t they?). good thing that he’s a great listener and an even better keeper of secrets, or else his neighbors would know everything about everyone and all the juicy gossip by the crack of dawn.

iv. he also sees a lot of weird stuff as a convenience store clerk and likes to play games in his head by trying to guess what each customer will buy. i mean, at least it passes the time.

v. his favorite thing in the world, aside from his family of course, is his motorcycle (or as his mom calls it, “the death trap”). late night rides on empty streets are really the only time he ever feels free from all the limitations in life, the only time he doesn’t have to think about lost opportunities and relationships as a drop-out from college. 

vi. and a couple more random things: he’s kind of a romantic, kind of good at living alone (his cooking is fantastic and is a very responsible person; but he still has problems with getting his clothes not to shrink in the laundry), kind of a scaredy cat when it comes to bugs (because goddamn he hates them) but not people (actually formidable with his fists but only when the situation calls for it), and kind of has the taste buds of a child. dowon also takes on a bunch of weird side-jobs whenever he can and will pretty much do anything (as long as it’s legal) for some extra money.

[xdowonx]

yiseuuls​:

@xdowonx

(...)

as she pushes open the door, she’s surprised to see a lanky man and a child at her doorframe. animal ears ontop of both their heads — for a moment, yiseul is wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her.

wait wasn’t that the clerk from the convenience store?

“oh..uh hello?”

there are definitely better ways to go about this. 

admittedly, this isn’t one of dowon’s best plans, showing up at her apartment unannounced, dressed up in a costume from alice in wonderland (although he really did love cheshire cat). teeth chewing his bottom lip anxiously, he fixes a crooked cat ear that had been starting to slip from atop his head. in all honesty, he’d been standing in front of her door for a couple of minutes now, palms a bit clammy from the thought of her opening it; a confused seonwoo had, more than once, shook his hand and mouthed the words, why aren’t we knocking?

seonwoo, by the way, is dressed as an utterly adorable white rabbit. he’d insisted on drawing a nose and whiskers, and on wearing lens-less glasses that took over his small face. 

“you can do this,” the little one declares, as if trying to give his hyung some courage. the image of nervous dowon next to his confident young cousin is a laughable one, and it frustrates himself, but he still just can’t bring himself to do it. at least, not yet. 

another thirty seconds later and a second attempt at making himself look presentable using the reflection off of his phone screen, dowon’s just about to knock, fist held high, when the door suddenly opens and surprises the crap out of him. 

“holy-,” he gasps, eyes blinking rapidly. cheeks flush a bright red, as if he’d just been caught in an embarrassing act (which, technically, he had been). he’s at a loss for words, because how the hell does he explain him purposely bringing seonwoo along in the direction of her place in hopes of seeing her again? 

seonwoo, on the other hand, isn’t fazed at all. he steps forward, eyes sparkling with excitement, small hands holding a plastic and half-full halloween pumpkin bucket. “trick or treat!”

[xdowonx]

yiseuuls​:

xdowonx​:

— (  it’s apparent I can’t bear it and I swear it / @xdowonx

“no it’s alright, i don’t want to bother you,” she finally explains, her own cheeks warming at the idea of inconveniencing someone, though it would be rude not to buy anything. yiseul hums in thought for a moment, looking down at the candy bars settled near the cashier — picking up a random chocolate bar, she places it onto the counter. “i’ll just uh take this..”

her smile is strained as she looks at the cashier in the eye for the first time. the worst of it had to be over right? “you live at center point right? so we’re somewhat neighbors, so just give me a heads up next time you guys have some delivered.”

it's painfully obvious to him that she's disappointed—and although it's not his fault per say and there's not much he can do about it, dowon feels bad. apologetic almost, as if there’s some way he can make them deliver her particular preference of ice cream faster (and he isn’t doing it). and it’s hard not to feel bad at a face that he always wants to see smiling. out of habit, he bites the inside of his cheek almost anxiously, eyes following her movement as she skims over the choices of chocolate, not giving much attention to any single one. 

“you’re not a bother,” he says, somewhat belatedly. not out of indifference or insincerity, but because it had taken in some time to process her words. she sounds like an echo, so close yet so far away, a wall of haze between his brain and the outside world making it impermeable to the soft tones of her voice. dowon shakes his head in attempt to clear it out. “really,” he adds emphasis. she could ask him to search the entire store, hell, try to make some if he could, and he would still not yet be “bothered.” 

taking the chocolate bar from the counter, hands ring the item up as his mind wanders. after a couple of short-lived encounters with her, dowon’s aware that she’s nervous around him—and not for the same reason as he is. and she’s not to blame, not really, with the way he dresses. outfits are a medium of expression, which means that many end up assuming that the message of delinquency is what he’s expressing; add in the motorcycle and the piercings, and that’s a debate that dowon rarely wins (unless people actually start talking to him). 

the easy solution to her misconception about him seems to be talking to her. holding a conversation other than him stating the cost of a chocolate bar: “a dollar fifty.” but that’s one of the more challenging matters he’s recently found himself considering. she has an aura about her, one of purity like a clean, fresh linen white, that makes her unapproachable, impenetrable, and he’s afraid of one touch ruffling all of her dove-like feathers and scaring her away for good.

so when she musters up the courage to continue to chat with him, it’s almost as if his thoughts have been heard. his face brightens noticeably, corners of his lips upturning in a shy smile. 

“yeah, center point,” dowon answers. you remember. he nods, a couple of times way too quickly, as he hands back the candy bar. “of course, i can do that.” empty fingers wring themselves in mild diffidence. “there’s a bakery a couple of blocks over that sells red bean buns,” he shrugs, “if you like those too. i mean, because you seem to really like red bean.”

[xdowonx]

holyrcller​:

(...)

she can feel the cold of the convenience store refrigerator on the tip of her nose, microwaved meals sitting in their plastic pockets. not much of a selection, come the end of the day, but carbonara tteokbokki is always an easy choice, she supposes. the management consultant picks up the package and slides it over to the counter, waiting for him to ring her up. “want me to cashier sit?” she offers; she’s got nothing better to do, really. a but stated in the finger that raises up, terms and conditions for her offer: “i’ll do it if you use your staff discount for me!”

"feels like it's been ten hours," he replies, amicability seeping into his voice. he sits up in his seat and gives his arms a wide stretch and a yawn that seems to ripple through his entire body. “and it looks like you’re feeling the same way.” he doesn’t know much about sorin, not down to the nitty gritty details and the story behind her family dilemmas, but he has seen her pull away from financial dependence and towards the feat of making it on her own; he’s a witness to her recent transition of playing music to spending hours cooped up inside an office. an act of succumbing to the material costs of making it day-to-day.

in all honesty, it’s no surprise that work feels like a chore more than anything when you’re doing it to survive rather than to live your best life; each work hour is measured in the amount you make, not weighed in the musings of limitless opportunities and the unspoken dreams of moving up the company ladder. dowon has bills to pay, rent to cover. he has a savings account that’s slowly but surely building up for when his mom retires. he has a little bit set aside for when he gets married (if he gets married). but that’s about all he can afford and dreams are pushed to the back burner. the only way for someone like him to sustain longevity is to be realistic. see life for what it really is.

of course, he doesn’t say all of this to her. it’s a bit depressing to say that it’s hard escaping the grasp of bills and everyday challenges; besides, they’re in different situations. one thing that he will never do is pretend as if he knows everything that another person is going through because he clearly doesn’t. what he can do, however, is listen. and use his staff discount.

“yes, please,” dowon gives her a look that reads “you’re an angel” as he stands up. despite having been seated for so long, his legs feel sore and he’s craving a cigarette. but it’s bad manners to go smoke outside with her here, so deciding to push that for later, dowon suggests, “i’ll do you one better. i’ll use the discount and eat dinner with you.” 

moving from behind the counter, he strides over to the refrigerated shelves to pick up one of the more expensive meal boxes, the ones that have somewhat put together a recognizable traditional korean meal (with bulgogi and other side dishes and rice and everything), and then picks up another. “these are one plus one. share the second with me?” while he never explicitly says it much, mostly because it makes him sound like such a kid, but dowon dislikes eating alone. to the guy, a twenty-seven-year-old grown man, there’s nothing lonelier than having to eat by himself. 

[xdowonx]

ujues​:

(...)

she obliges with a nondescript smile and nod, masking the contempt by shifting her attention away to the interior, some detail of an artwork on the wall, the vaguely familiar bartender in her periphery, and then back to her phone, when his voice suddenly snaps her back to reality.

her drink is here, it seems. and has been sitting for a while too judging by his sour expression and the condensation around the outside of the glass. 

“uh, cheers, i guess.”  this is the the price of her freedom: one disgustingly sweet-looking drink of a dubious tropical shade, with an even more off-putting smell. there’s a metaphor in there somewhere, if only she could be bothered.  

when working shifts at the bar, he had a couple of rules that he'd set with himself. aside from the no-brainer ones that came with the whole part-time bartender position, the ones that he had to keep to, well, keep his job, dowon had some extra guidelines to stand by as he took watch over the business. one, was to try to keep personal interests to a minimum. he spoke from personal experience when saying that bringing customers back to his place was rarely the best idea: mostly because he couldn’t run away from them when things went south. and that could get really messy. two, was to not accept too many drinks from generous buyers. despite his height and stature, his tolerance wasn’t the best (and terribly overestimated). several strong cocktails with a whiskey or brandy base were enough to make his head spin, and clouded judgment was not a luxury he could afford to have when suffering through long work hours. 

his third rule, and maybe the most consequential one, was not to get involved into customers’ drama. purely just out of self-protection. when he had just started out, in the beginning months of working behind the bar, inexperienced dowon had gotten mixed up with people who were too handsy or belligerent or downright rude; it had gotten him sent to the police station once or twice, harassed, and even sued (and it was over some year-old love squabble!). he liked to think of himself as caring, but he wasn’t caring enough to put his hard-earned income on the line for some blown up affair that he had no connection with. sure, other people were important. but so were his mom and cousin, whom the money was for. 

however, rules always came with exceptions—and dowon had just witnessed one of the few exceptions to the third one; a guy at a table in the middle of the bar, a (pretty) girl sitting across from him, had just slipped something in her drink without her noticing. it wasn’t the first time dowon had seen something like that (and it happened more than it should); the subtle plink and the quick fizz of the pill were recognizable to his trained eye. 

that goddamn asshole. he wanted to poke those eager eyes right out of their sockets.

and before he could think twice, dowon was already moving out from behind the bar, hands setting down glasses that clinked against marble. fuming with slow burning anger, wide strides took him to their table in a couple of steps and his fingers wrapped around her wrist right as she’s about to bring the drink to her lips, the force of it sending ripples through the glass.

he’s apologetic about the sudden touch, but definitely not for stopping her. “you don’t want to drink that.” while his words were directed towards her, his eyes were fixed on the guy who seemed to fidget under his hard stare. 

“i’ll make you a new one.”

[xdowonx]

taeaoh​:

(...)

“i don’t mind at all,” he answers while offering a gentle smile. for some reason, he feels some kind of kinship with the young child. taeoh crouches down to meet the boy at eye level. “you like cars, huh?” he scrunches his nose. “me too. and you’re so right, audi’s engines are very silent indeed. exactly why i like it.” he jokingly extends his hand out for a handshake. “i’m taeoh, by the way.”

then, a sudden idea hits him. it’s genius, really. it’s something that can satiate the boy’s curiosity and solve taeoh’s lack of plans today.

he stands up and turns to the man.

“hey, there’s an ice cream shop two blocks from here. if you don’t mind, i can drive your son and you to get something from there. if you’re okay that is. my treat.”

the glee is evident in seonwoo's eyes as he takes the man's hand in his two fervently, shaking it with all his might as he bounces up and down in delight. beaming at taeoh, he squeals, “i’m seonwoo, lee seonwoo! seven years old. almost eight. and i’m a car expert. basically anything with four wheels.” the words tumble out of his mouth as if they can’t get out fast enough, syllables in a race to be the first to be spoken. 

all the moving makes dowon nervous but he can’t help but grin at the little kid’s obvious elation, and he ruffles seonwoo’s hair. “did you hear that, hyung?” seonwoo chatters away excitedly, standing on his tip toes as if an attempt to reach the heights of the two tall men, “he said we can ride the audi! come on, come on!”

an exasperated but adoring sigh leaves dowon as he crouches down to pick the guy up, easily supporting his small frame with his arms, as he turns to face the man. “i’m dowon,” he introduces himself as well, “are you sure? we’d hate to be a burden.” seonwoo’s face falls at dowon’s words but his eyes are expectant, hands gripping dowon’s shoulders as he looks over at taeoh. it looks like seonwoo has something to say, but he’s been taught well enough by his mom that patience is a virtue, and that a bright smile will take him places; instead, he resorts to leaning towards dowon and whispers in his ear: “he looks really nice. if you ask me, i think we can trust him. what do you think.”

at that, dowon laughs. “he really seems to like you,” he says to taeoh as he flicks the little guy’s cheek. completely unaware of the fact that taeoh has misunderstood seonwoo to be his son. he had been so busy worrying about seonwoo engaging in overactivity that that part of the conversation had gone past him. and while it isn’t true, it’s believable; to a strange extent, seonwoo shares similar features with dowon, doting the same lips and almond eyes and facial structure that screams, “we’re related!” and honestly, if you were to ask him, dowon thinks he wouldn’t mind having a kid like seonwoo, even if he were to be sick. 

“if you’re really okay with it,” dowon gives in to his cousin, “that would be great.”

[tesuena]

Visit Original Link

[xdowonx]

x. @5041s

people don't usually say it to his face, but he's been told by many suspicious looks, wary glances, and unsubtle scoots to the side that he seems intimidating. the leather, the piercings, the towering height, and the love of his life (his motorcycle, the deadly contraption on two wheels) don't help to vindicate him either; in fact, they make things worse, and most strangers put two and two together to haphazardly create the stereotypical image of “street bad boy.” the type of guy you’d expect to pick fights for no reason. or the type of guy you’d expect to not be easily frightened off, to stand taller in the face of a good challenge. 

but dowon is quite the opposite. contrary to common belief, he’s actually a scaredy cat; fists don’t frighten him but the unknown (and bugs) do and he makes no effort to hide it. there’s trepidation in not knowing things, not being able to comprehend the truth behind the metaphysical. to him, it’s natural to be agitated by what he can’t understand—because the only enemy that can’t be beat is the one that’s always two steps ahead, armed with the element of surprise. and this goddamn ghost terrorizing the floor of what he’s supposed to call “home sweet home” is definitely the enemy.

it’s been four years since he’s lived here and he still isn’t used to this. it’s doubtful (and unlikely) that he ever will.

heart about to burst straight out of his chest, dowon stifles a surprised gasp. the lights have started to flicker and he’s pretty sure that he just felt something pass by behind him. silent footsteps, more gliding than treading. like a moving shadow that belongs to someone else. a shudder is sent through his body and he can feel his bodily instincts starting to take over, feet breaking out into a brisk walk then a run. he’s not sure where exactly on b2 he is; what he last remembers is the pair of elevator doors closing behind him, as if sealing his fate. 

“god, i really should move or something,” he mumbles to himself as he turns a corner, breaths hurried, shoes thudding against carpet. in the next split second, dowon turns his head to see if that thing is coming after him—and promptly crashes into someone standing right in front of the vending machine. his cheek says hello with the floor as his body twists to protect itself and arms instinctively come up to hold the girl that he had just mercilessly barreled over. 

a grunt leaves him as the weight of her falls on his chest and stomach, elbow bluntly hitting his gut somewhere. “jo?” the image of her is recognizable, despite the fact that he’s winded; “oh my god, i’m so sorry. are you okay? are you hurt anywhere?”

[xdowonx]

x. @yoosunghos

being a bartender required a specific skill set. memorization, for one (that had definitely taken him awhile; he remembered all those nights trying to memorize names of liquor that he hadn’t even heard of before). mixing drinks was definitely another, a no-brainer. admittedly, dowon hadn’t been the best at first; it had taken him a few weeks to get the proportions down, and lots of practice and testing his own drinks (and getting himself tipsy). now, with four years under his belt as the main bartender at ‘honey night,’ the subtle snap of the wrist and the delicate touch of nimble fingers came naturally to him. most of the usual customers knew his name, knew just exactly what to say to snag themselves a complimentary drink from the tall guy in leather and free smiles. 

the more subtle, hidden skill was reading people. this, too, had taken practice. he’d sometimes play games with himself (which he swore wasn’t as pitiful as it sounded) and try to guess where entering customers would sit, what they’d order, who they had come with, how they were feeling, how long they’d stay. considering the countless part-time, odd jobs he’d taken up, most of time, dowon guessed right. 

this time, he had his gaze set on a guy sitting at the bar counter, head set in hands. he looked somewhat vaguely familiar (couldn’t place his finger on why though, maybe from center point?), but dowon could tell he wasn’t a regular. somewhere in the middle, the guy (who was clearly stressed out) didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, but also didn’t blend in well among the lovey dovey couples or the crowd of people cheering each other on during a match of darts; something was off. it felt off. as if he was going to lose his marbles or something.

normally, dowon would make the guy a more personal drink if he knew his preference, but he hadn’t ordered yet, meaning dowon had nothing to go off of. it was, however, a short-lived dilemma. the guy clearly needed something strong, so he opted for a smooth whiskey, hands grabbing the bottle of ballantine’s, and poured a glass on the rocks. honestly, dowon wasn’t the greatest talker and wasn’t 100% confident in his talking abilities, but the least he could do was listen to what this worn out customer was suffering from. give him an outlet, lend him an ear. a presence in the dark. because he knew that sometimes, just sometimes, it was nice letting out to a stranger who didn’t know a thing about you. 

“you look like you need this,” he heard himself say as he slid over the drink, paired with a small plate of fruit and nuts. “rough day?”

[xdowonx]

yiseuuls​:

— (  it’s apparent I can’t bear it and I swear it / @xdowonx

(...)

who else could be buying it? yiseul’s inner lip finds company with her teeth. any reasonable person with a craving so strong would approach the store staff in hopes they had some in the back. but the crawl of nerves climbing her spine is one that is something she rarely ignores.  a step back, from this angle she can see the ever-familiar cashier, intimidating piercings and all.  

the anxiety in her chest screams but the craving on the tip of her tongue dreams of the sweet taste of her childhood at the beachside. 

five steps forward and a mantra repeating in yiseul’s head.

“hello, sorry to bother you,” the mantra escapes her lips, “i have a question..do you still carry red bean ice cream?” 

the only thing harder than pretending to recognize someone is, dowon realizes, pretending not to recognize them. sitting slouched behind the counter, head resting on his outstretched arm, sleepy eyes follow the figures moving across his phone screen, heavy eyelids threatening to close. at this time of the day, when there’s an abeyance in the usual flow of in-and-out customers and the food coma from lunch starts to hit, all he wants to do is take a nap. bask in the sunlight streaming in from large glass walls. let his mind wander along lyrics that feed into his ears, the familiar melody to cheeze’s recent album settling his thoughts. pop some gummies into his mouth and savor the fruitiness of haribo gummy bears. 

but the moment a certain someone walks into the store, bell humming a light welcome, all of his usual peace is promptly jettisoned out the door. lassitude is replaced with the unsubtle thump thump of his nervous heart and he instantly sits up straight, fingers picking at stray strands of hair. from the periphery of his line of sight, dowon can see her, passing by the aisles of junk food and instant ramen. he doesn’t even know her name, has never had the nerve to ask her for it, but he does know that aside from this hour being the drowsiest time of the day, she’s also just made it his favorite. 

unbeknownst to her, he’d taken it upon himself to have taken a liking to her—one that dowon had never made public. besides, it’s pretty much impossible when the only words he can make out whenever they run into each other at the elevator is, “what floor?”

god, he’s trying really hard not to stare, but it seems like she’s not successful finding what she wanted; what might be the problem? wait, she’s coming over. wait, of course she’d come over. dowon flushes. you’re the cashier, you idiot. 

his throat feels parched and his quickened heartbeat is pounding in his ears, but he stays unmoving from his position. with apparent hesitation, she walks over to him. a question lingers in averted eyes, much like the one in his. 

he wonders if she can notice the flush in his cheeks. “um, usually we do,” dowon rubs the back of his neck, “but the next shipping got delayed. i can check in the back though if you’ll give me a minute?” he doubts it’ll be there, but the look on her face makes him want to double check, and then maybe even check again.

[xdowonx]

[lovestereo]

Visit Original Link

[xdowonx]

taeaoh​:

(...)

the boy is pointing at taeoh’s car and it seems like the man is trying to dissuade him from possibly coming closer.

it could be because he has nothing to do, it could be because the boy is adorable, it could be because taeoh needs a pick-me-up, but he walks over to the young man and the young boy, a smile adorning his face.

“hi,” taeoh starts. he’s slightly fidgety, mostly because he knows that children can be a fickle judge of character. “can’t help but notice he keeps looking at me… or, i guess, my car.”

it doesn't take much to keep seonwoo happy. which is understandable considering the fact that the little kid is kept inside all day, every day, trapped by the confines of white hospital walls and the prison that is his bed. dowon can never correctly remember (or pronounce) the malady that plagues his baby cousin, but it was something about weak bones, accompanied by a frequent sense of dizziness if he were to run for too long. there is no one else in the entire world that he loves more than the little guy, other than his mom, and he feels so bad and sad for the kid who can’t even chase after a stray butterfly without feeling like he needs to sit down.

that may be part of the reason seonwoo is so obsessed with cars: it’s the one way he can go forward, and go forward fast. sure, he needs to be heavily cushioned in maybe an suv (because they tend to be a lot more turbulent than sedans and dowon does not want the guy to bump his head, or worse, fracture something), but to him, riding an automobile is equivalent to a healthy kid’s time on a rollercoaster. seeing buildings whisk by and feeling the air between outstretched fingers are nothing but bliss to the seven, soon eight-year-old kid who has an entire (and still growing) collection of toy cars in his hospital cubby. 

his attraction to automobiles, even more so to expensive, elite brands that make his face light up two shades brighter, is too great for dowon to ward off in the minute seonwoo sets his gaze on the flashy audi. it’s as if the image of the car (that’s probably worth more than dowon can fathom) comes to seonwoo in slow motion and then flashes like a lightbulb switching on; two seconds later, the little guy is trying his utter best to drag his taller hyung towards it.

“hey hey,” his voice is laced with desperation as he tries to stay grounded, “seonwoo, that’s not ours. we can’t just go up to a random person’s car. come on, let’s just go get the ice cream we were going to get. i’ll get you two, okay?”

“but i just wanna look,” his baby cousin insists. he points at the car in excitement. small hands continue to tug at dowon’s arm, eyes wide and pleading. “just looking! no touching! hyung, it’s an audi.”

“but-” 

“i’ve never seen one in real life. please? i just wanna look, that’s all.” although it’s apparent that seonwoo knows dowon is just looking out for him, the kid is unable to take his eyes off of the vehicle, even when an unknown man, presumably the owner, begins to approach them. for a guy who’s usually not super receptive to new people, seonwoo is adamant in his desire to look at the car and he manages to slip out of dowon’s grasp to hastily make his over to the stranger.

“because it’s an audi,” seonwoo replies to the car’s owner expertly, a wide grin adorning his features as he peers up at the older man. he looks back at dowon to say, “hyung, hyung, audis have the best engines. super silent! you should get one.”

to dowon, the man looks vaguely familiar; he’s probably seen the guy around the apartment complex. dowon figures that he can’t be much of a threat to the little kid, whose fervor is getting too much to keep under wraps. rubbing the back of his neck in resignation, he says to the guy, “sorry about this, it’s just... the little guy is obsessed with cars. do you mind if he just takes a quick look?”

[xdowonx]

ltuscter​:

(...)

ah. her chopsticks still, unconsciously straightening up in her seat with the creak of the front door. the deep timbre that follows has the hairs on the back of her neck bristling, smile thinning out in the face of ajumeoni’s obvious elation. fuck me.

“ah, dowon-ah! you’re just in time to join us for dinner.” 

fuck, goddammit. fuck! she bites the inside of her cheek, head turning slow to set her gaze on her long-time-no-longer-friendly friend and for the sake of both of them (but especially his mother), yisol manages a smile in greeting.

“hey, dowon. s’been a minute.” her right brow twitches, the more pressing question on her tongue left unasked. why didn’t you tell your mom we’re not friends anymore? 

dowon isn't much of a guy of many words; not to say that he doesn't talk, but just, doesn't talk excessively. he’s not super elaborative nor eloquent, and more of the type to say what needs to be said, add in an opinion, nod or shake his head, pour more of his efforts into listening. but when it comes to his friends, or specifically, yisol (who would undoubtedly make the point of calling herself an ex-friend), he has a lot to say. most of it in his defense.

yisol, the girl that he had grown up with, except for a chunk of time in between elementary and high school; yisol, the fiery hotheaded mess that his mother so persistently insisted he look after, make sure she doesn’t run into “trouble”; yisol, the protagonist of many mixed emotions. some guilt, sure. affection, that’s definitely one. no matter how many times she pushes him away or makes the point of not being able to see him, as if he’s some invisible being slipping in and out of the hospital unnoticed, he can’t help but checking in on her and seeing how she’s doing, even from afar, after his frequent trips to his cousin’s hospital room. part of the reason is just plain habit—in high school, he’d achieved his growth spurt and had towered over her, had basically been a tall-standing wall to anyone who tried to pick on her; part of the reason is, to try to define it in layman’s words, because he feels like he has to. dowon knows that it’s ridiculous, and it’s funny for him to be like this now, even after their friendship has gone to places that both of them have never recovered from, but he’d rather accept it than quash it. 

and although he isn’t a guy of many words, or of garrulous attitude and overwhelming confidence, one thing that he knows for certain about himself is that he is stubborn: or better put, persistent. so it doesn’t matter how many times she gives him the hand, because he’ll just take it rather than be pushed away by it. 

that’s the first thought that comes to mind when dowon sees yisol from over his mom’s shoulder, sitting at the dining table with chopsticks in hand. in surprise, he almost drops the little fresh cream cake held under his arm, but quickly recovers, slipping his feet out of shoes and putting the dessert quickly on the kitchen counter before a fiasco can occur. his mind is racing to think about what to say; his mom’s face is glowing, absolutely delighted, by the fact that her two favorite kids will be having dinner, together, like old times.

he finally makes out the words, “yeah, it’s been a while, yisol.” of course, he knows the real question that she’s wanting to ask but dowon dares not respond aloud, because his mom would never “have” it and probably shut him out of his own conversation. so he slaps on a smile, one that is mostly genuine, gives his mom a kiss on the cheek, and washes his hands at the kitchen sink, avoiding the girl’s impending question altogether. 

“come come, sit down! i’ll get you some rice,” his mom laughs, the biggest smile adorning her face as she busies herself, eyes sparkling with apparent joy. “it’s been such a long time  since we’ve all sat at the same table!” 

doesn’t he know it, dowon thinks to himself. he thinks he’s going to choke before this meal is over. he’s painfully aware of the fact that yisol is glaring colorful comments into the side of his head, but he, as calmly as he can, holds his chopsticks, picks up some japchae, and puts it on her already full plate. as if to say, you’re already here, so you might as well fill your stomach.

there are definitely better ways to continue the conversation, but he just says, “you look like you lost a lot of weight.”

[xdowonx]

x. @holyrcller

the best part about working shifts at a convenience store? he could pretty much do anything he wanted behind the counter in ugly green and white uniform as long as he restocked the shelves in time and tended to customers with a halfhearted air of affable energy. and of course, being the person that he is, dowon almost always rang up items with a smile on his face and a voice that screamed “polite.” even to all the rude, intoxicated men, even to the entitled ahjummas who insisted on getting a discount, even to the intimidating high school girls who had layered makeup on their face so thick that he wondered if their pores could breathe. being a well-liked employee, and a hard-working one at that, were two qualities that he had to keep up if he didn’t want to get fired, and considering his financials and the deep-rooted guilt of making his mom work down to the bone, he didn’t have the luxury to get fired. 

and like he said, working at a convenience store right around the corner of center point had its perks. even if given the chance, he wouldn’t pass up on a part-time job that was stereotypically viewed as grueling; he could play games on his phone or watch netflix, read some webtoons and play music in peace. and it was usually a lot calmer of a job than his gig at honey night as a bartender. sure, there was typically a steady stream of customers in the early morning and at night, when people usually were on the way to work or were getting off work, but other than that, the store was relatively quiet, only occasionally disturbed by the jingle of the bells attached to the door. dowon figured that there weren’t many part-time jobs that he hadn’t tried—add being a barista, working in a wedding hall, serving tables, parking cars, and more to the ongoing list—and though he worked for minimum wage, it wasn’t going to get much better than this. as a bonus, he also was witness to some interesting moments in people’s days: couple fights, drunken brawls, shy love confessions, you name it.

a yawn escaped him as he lifted his arms up over his head in a wide stretch. it was now 8:20 pm, which meant he had less than hour left until the end of his shift. dowon was lucky today; he could take a quick break before his shift at the bar, which had been pushed an hour later than usual. a mental scan of his schedule was all he needed: get off work at 9 pm, go home and shower and grab a snack, then get ready for his next job. his day was always jam-packed and tired him out, but nothing good ever came out of staying home all day. or at least, so he told himself. 

dowon cupped his face in his hand, elbow against the counter, eyes overcome with drowsiness. an earphone in his left ear fed him faded notes of k-indie. it was 8:20 pm, which meant that he’d get off work soon, but 8:20 pm also was the perfect time for a nap, the exact moment in his day when he was willing to succumb to the sleepy lull. and he honestly might’ve let it if it weren’t for the sudden opening and closing of the store’s entrance, bell humming a cacophonous tune, enacted by none other than a familiar face. “sorin!” 

[xdowonx]

hello hello! nice to meet everyone! i’m eun (she/her, kst timezone), the writer behind my baby, min dowon! as the acceptance post states, he’s a real hard-working 27-year-old, part-time convenience store clerk by day and a local bartender at a bar called “honey night” by night, that lives on in unit #8-1? on the B2 floor. he’s been at center point for about 4 years. despite his whole piercings + motorcycle + leather + not sure what’s going on with his hair look, dowon is a real sweetheart who’s not very good at maintaining a poker face. he’s lowkey kind of a remake of one of my old muses like a nicer, less bad boy concept version, so i am still figuring him out! but if you want to know more about him, you can see his profile/stats and his bio on their respective sites. i’ll also leave some headcanons under the cut! + i also have some plots here (and will be adding more to them in the near future), but we can also just brainstorm if that’s what you prefer! pls like this post to plot and i’ll slide into your im’s (or we can use discord if that’s more comfortable for you! add me on #eunie6676) 

i. a golden mama’s boy — he’s never known his father, which makes him extremely affectionate toward his mother who raised him on her own !! his mom is an experienced pediatrics nurse, and dowon visits her at the hospital when he can (and his sick baby cousin, whom he adores). he ended up dropping out of hanyang university as an economics major to save money and help pay for his cousin’s medical bills. his current goal is to save up enough money to actually own and manage a bar for himself.

ii. as stated above, dowon pretty much wears his heart on his sleeve, which is both a great strength and weakness. he’s not very good at keeping his feelings under a cap, is easily hurt (emotionally), and is quick to get into fights when provoked. but !! it also means that he’ll get happy and excited over the little things, like having a fully stamped coupon or finding a dollar on the street, and will empathize with and feel for you whenever you’re unraveling a story.

iii. on that note, as a bartender, he hears a lot of things about a lot of different people, mostly the tenants at center point (drunk people are so chatty, aren’t they?). good thing that he’s a great listener and an even better keeper of secrets, or else his neighbors would know everything about everyone and all the juicy gossip by the crack of dawn.

iv. he also sees a lot of weird stuff as a convenience store clerk and likes to play games in his head by trying to guess what each customer will buy. i mean, at least it passes the time.

v. his favorite thing in the world, aside from his family of course, is his motorcycle (or as his mom calls it, “the death trap”). late night rides on empty streets are really the only time he ever feels free from all the limitations in life, the only time he doesn’t have to think about lost opportunities and relationships as a drop-out from college. 

vi. and a couple more random things: he’s kind of a romantic, kind of good at living alone (his cooking is fantastic and is a very responsible person; but he still has problems with getting his clothes not to shrink in the laundry), kind of a scaredy cat when it comes to bugs (because goddamn he hates them) but not people (actually formidable with his fists but only when the situation calls for it), and kind of has the taste buds of a child. dowon also takes on a bunch of weird side-jobs whenever he can and will pretty much do anything (as long as it’s legal) for some extra money.

[fairyzar]

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