closed starter for @strdstave (mateo)
location: their apartment
squinting at the shopping list that had formerly been attached to their fridge with magnet, zane scratches his jaw, trying to figure out what exactly either mat or ale had written. ale wasn't home, so zane figured he'd try his luck with his other roommate, knocking lightly on the doorframe before poking his head in to the other's room. "yo mat, can you decipher whatever they hell this is?" he asks with a laugh, offering the list to mateo with a small grin. "i'm gonna go do a grocery run. you wanna come with?"
Mateo was laying in bed, casually scrolling through different things he wanted to get his roommates for Christmas. He was so focused on it that he had entirely forgotten he wasn't home alone. So, naturally, when Zane poked his head in to ask something it scared the crap out of him and his phone dropped smacking him in the face. But instead of focusing on that he immediately got up, a bit too quickly, accidentally rolling out of bed and landing on the ground. "Hey Zane!" He reached up for the list as if nothing had just happened, looking at the scribbled words, squinting a bit at his own handwriting. “Okay… wow, even I have to admit this is a little tragic,” Mateo muttered, tilting his head and holding the list at arm’s length. “Alright, so this says… uh…‘eggplants?’ Or maybe ‘eggnogs?’ Eh, could go either way. And is that ‘brie’ or ‘bread’? Honestly, I can’t even tell anymore.” He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "I'm down to come! Ohh! We should get some stuff to surprise Ale with a little homecooked meal, made by both of his favorite people. Imagine his surprise."
As seasons went, Autumn was probably JD's favorite. Yes, there was a lot of work to do on the farm, what with harvest and winter prepping overlapping, but the northeast during Autumn was undeniably beautiful. JD also loved that he could hide behind scarves and bigger coats and blame the crisp air for why he couldn't stick around to chat. But with the colder months, also came the holiday seasons, and it was at that time that Maple brook really leaned into its unbearable nature; there were so many activities and even a self-proclaimed recluse couldn't dodge them all.
He'd just come from the pie making contest, a faint thrum of pride still humming in his chest knowing that it had been fruits and veggies he'd had a hand in growing that had been used for some of those pies, and was now seated for the ghost stories. He didn't plan to tell any but that didn't mean that he couldn't listen. "Umm..." JD wasn't sure what to say about that. Some of the stories had been told for generations. "Some of them might be," he replied, voice faint. "But what's your name? Just so I know to run if I hear it bein' called."
Mateo let out a soft laugh, the sound mingling with the crackle of the fire, filling the small space between them with an easy warmth. “Oh, fair enough,” he said, tipping his mug slightly toward the stranger, letting the steam curl upward in a lazy spiral. “I’m Mateo. And what's your name?" He took a slow sip of his cider, letting the heat spread through his chest, easing the slight chill in the evening air. For a moment, he let his gaze wander over the flickering flames, like he was taking stock of the little world around him, noticing the way the light caught on someone’s hair or reflected in their eyes, giving the impression that everything was a little softer, a little more approachable, just by being here. Or maybe he was just trying to calm his jitters of whatever scary stories were to come.
He leaned slightly toward the edge of the fire, reaching for a nearby bundle of skewers and the bag of marshmallows sitting lazily nearby. Pulling one free, he held it out casually, not too close, not too far, with a small, easy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Here,” he said, voice low and warm, as if offering something as simple as sharing a marshmallow was a gesture that spoke volumes without needing words. “I mean…we can’t exactly run for our lives on an empty stomach, right?” He paused, curiously adding, "Course this now leads me to the very important question of...Do you burn your marshmallows or are you a light brown crispy edge type of person?"
who: mateo @strdstave + zane @whiskeyneats
where: their house
"Okay, boys," Alejandro greeted, setting down the boxes of pizza he held. "I know dinner was mine tonight, but I got caught up at the cafe. So, this'll have to do." Ale didn't usually mind pizza for dinner but when you lived with two people who enjoyed cooking, it sometimes felt impossible to keep up. As it was, there were probably only a handful of things he could make from scratch and none of them had seemed appealing in the moment. "If anyone's feeling really picky, we've got leftovers in the fridge, but I figured pizza, beer, and a movie?"
Zane had only gotten home a few minutes prior to Alejandro, ready to do nothing but veg out for the rest of the night. "Pizza, beer and movie sounds good to me. I'm wiped." He replies, moving to get them some plates for said pizza, offering Ale a smile. "What're you thinking? Holiday movie? Horror? Rom com?" Zane wasn't really that picky, but he wanted to manage his expectations. @strdstave
Mateo was bundled up in his cozy snuggie hoodie, the one with the hear hood that he enjoyed flopping on when he was in a particularly extra lazy mood. "Pizza, beer, movies, and you guys? Sounds like the perfect night to me." He lazily grinned, having woken up from a nap not too long ago. "Maybe we can mix a bit of everything in the movie? A holiday horror type of movie, but I'm honestly down for anything. Just glad to be spending time with you guys." He grabbed the napkins, some hot sauce for anyone that would want it, and made his way to the living room. "Oh! Guys! I made some tiny pies yesterday. We can have those for dessert if you guys want, though I don't mind popping in some cookies. Whatever. Anyway, how's everyone been?" @divineinfamy
Jin felt something twist in his chest at Mateo’s reaction. That genuine, unfiltered happiness was something he didn’t feel he deserved at all. He had obviously hoped Mateo would be happy, but hadn’t been prepared for Mateo being… Mateo, oddly enough. It made the guilt sit a little heavier in his chest.
“It’s actually pepper chicken,” he joked. The container obviously had Sesame Chicken. He was very grateful that Mateo hadn’t grown bored or sick of that dish in the time they’d spent apart. It meant it was still something he liked. He smiled at Mateo as he pulled the chair closer and sat down. The knee bump made him acutely aware of just how close they were, and how much he had missed being this close to Mateo. Not to mention how much he missed this, having someone this genuinely excited to spend time with him - even if it was just lunch. “Of course I remembered. Wouldn’t have dared show up without it,” he teased and nudged Mateo playfully.
Jin opened his own container, buying himself a moment before he met Mateo’s eyes. “You know, working nights, give me this rock star look,” he joked. He probably hadn’t slept all that much, and the messy hair was from his headphones being slid through his chair when taking them on and off. “I missed you, too.” He said honestly, leaning back in his hair. “Stupid amounts,” he added in what he hoped was a playful manner. He wasn’t here to lay everything down. He had to build up to it, and show Mateo how sorry he was by showing up for him instead of running.
He took a breath, shifting gears. “What are you working on? Are you having a good day?” He smiled, reaching for his chopsticks. “And did you expect me to bring you sadness and ramyeon, or was that what you had packed yourself?” Honestly, both were very plausible. Sadness and ramyeon just so happened to be Jin’s speciality, served with an ice-cold energy drink, of course.
Mateo’s grin softened into something warmer, quieter, but still buzzing with that chaotic, slightly goofy affection he carried like a second skin. But when Jin said pepper chicken, Mateo froze dramatically—then pressed a hand over his heart like he’d been mortally wounded. “Pepper chicken, huh?” he repeated, eyes widening with exaggerated betrayal. “It’s like you don’t even know me anymore. I am—absolutely devastated. Heartbroken. Shattered. How can I possibly go on?”
He let his head lull back like he was about to faint right off his chair before cracking a smile he couldn’t contain, the kind that crinkled his eyes and made him look stupidly happy to be here with Jin. Because he was stupidly happy to be here with Jin, Mateo was always happy to be around him. The only problem was that he had to constantly remind himself that he needed to correct his feelings to be a bit more platonic than what they really were. But that was his own little battle, something he didn't dare voice out loud, it wasn't worth ruining their friendship. Besides, he doesn't like you like that. Mateo reminded himself, keeping his warm smile plastered on his face regardless of the slight ache that thought brought.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Man disappears for ages and comes back pretending he doesn’t know my one true food weakness. I oughta report you for emotional damage.” Another soft bump of his knee against Jin’s—this one gentler, more real beneath the teasing. “But hey,” he added, grin returning, “I guess I can forgive you since you did bring actual sesame chicken. And the chili oil." His voice dropped slightly, the softness back and shimmering around the edges. “And… because I think this is the sweetest thing ever. I don't know what I did to deserve such a sweet gesture, but...I hope I do it again.” He lightly laughed, reaching for his chopsticks and silently debating what he'd dig into first.
It was incredibly difficult for Mateo not to pause mid reach for a piece of chicken when he heard Jin mention he had missed him too, and the added stupid amounts comment, but he remained focused on the food and not the way his heart fluttered at the admission. "Oh, I'm having a much better day now. I was just working on some edits for the paper, nothing too major. It's my half day today, actually." He takes a moment to eat bit of food, doing a little dance in his seat as he savored every bite.
"I didn't pack myself lunch today," he admits, cheeks turning a light shade of pink from embarrassment, "I woke up late. But that's what was on the menu for dinner. Oh, except, you know what I did pack?" He turned for a second to reach into his little cooler, pulling out a small cherry pie. "You can have it," Mat insisted, gently nudging the pastry towards Jin. He lifted his chopsticks, pointing at Jin with zero grace. “Now spill. For real—how are you?"
closed starter for mateo ( @strdstave )
where: mateo's work place.
Jin wasn't much of a 'daylight' person. He worked nights and preferred it that way. Daytime was usually spent sleeping or questioning his existence. But today was different. He was up, he was out, and he'd decided it was time to actually give something back to Mateo.
After the way he'd left things between them, after disappearing the way he had, Jin felt like he owed Mateo the world. And even that wouldn't be enough to show how much he regretted his actions. He had a streak of abandoning people when feelings got too involved. Though, at least after Mateo, he hadn't run to the other side of the earth like he had before. Small victories, right?
Entering the building Mateo worked in, Jin hoped and prayed all the way up that he wasn't out on a job. In the bag he carried, Chinese food for both of them, Mateo's favourite, or at least what used to be his favourite. Jin hadn't actually asked. Probably should have. In his other hand, drinks for them both.
As he stepped into the right room, he scanned until he spotted the familiar figure sitting with his back turned, clearly working on something. Jin moved through the desks quietly and set the bag and bottles down onto Mateo's desk. "You're not too busy to have lunch with me, are you?" he asked, aiming for playful, but his voice coming out softer than intended. He came around to Mateo's side, trying to read his expression.
Mateo’s fingers freeze mid-type the second he hears that voice; soft, familiar, a little nervous in a way that punches him straight in the chest. His head snaps up slowly, like he’s half-convinced he imagined it, and then there’s Jin. Standing right there. Looking unfairly good in daylight, holding a bag that smells like the little hole-in-the-wall place that has grown a special place in Mateo’s heart.
For a second Mateo just blinks, mouth slightly open, brain short-circuiting in the best possible way. Then the biggest, goofiest grin spreads across his face, the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes and shows way too many teeth.“Holy crap, Jin?” He spins his chair fully around, nearly knocking over his coffee in the process. “You… you brought food? Like… actual real food that isn’t sadness and instant ramen?”
He’s already half out of his chair, hovering like he wants to hug him but isn’t sure if that’s allowed anymore. His hands flap once in excitement before he catches himself and shoves them into his hoodie pocket instead. “I—dude, I’m never too busy for you. Especially not when you come bearing sesame chicken. That is sesame chicken I smell, right? Tell me it’s sesame chicken or I might actually cry.” He laughs, bright and warm, and there’s this soft, fond look in his eyes he can’t quite hide. “Sit, sit! God, I can’t believe you’re here. You look…” Amazing. Beautiful. Like every good memory I’ve been hoarding for years. “…like you haven’t slept in a week, but in a hot way. Very rockstar chic.”
He pulls the second chair from the empty desk next to him, scooting it close, maybe a little too close, bumping knees on purpose as he sits back down. “I missed you, y’know,” he says, quieter now, but still smiling like Jin hung the moon. “Like… stupid amounts. But no pressure! We can just eat and you can tell me why you suddenly decided to grace my sad little cubicle with your wonderful presence.” He winks, already digging into the bag like a kid on Christmas. “Also you remembered the extra chili oil. Marry me. Wait, ignore that, brain-to-mouth filter still broken. How are you?”
open starter !! (2/5)
wine tasting @ le coeur winery
"I feel very out of place." Zane half whispers, half chuckles, attempting to swirl the glass of wine that was in his hand. He was definitely more of a (cheap) beer guy, but also wasn't against new experiences. The most Zane knew about wine was whatever cheap bottles he bought to cook with, if he was being honest. "I'm mostly here for the hors d'oeuvres, I'm not gonna lie."
“Something about the year and the barrel. That’s all I’ve grasped from wine.” He shrugged, swirling the glass with more hope than skill. “And that I prefer red over white… unless you’ve got sparkling. Then everything else goes out the window for me.” Dario grinned, giving Zane a playful nudge with his elbow. “Alright, but seriously, how about we go on the real hunt for the hors d’oeuvres?"
starter for: @strdstave (mateo)!
where: the maple brook post
"Knock knock," Elise says, poking her head into Mateo's office. Now, Elise would always say she liked her coworkers equally (and for the most part, she did!), but Mateo was always a bit of a favorite. She founds she could talk to him about a lot of things, and he'd engage in conversations earnestly. More than that, he was always willing to teach her new things.
Including baking techniques, which was an interest they shared.
Today, though, wasn't about baking. Today was Elise playing roulette and inviting one of her coworkers to lunch. It just happened to be Mateo was luckier than others.
"What are you thinking for a meal break? My treat."
Mateo looked up from the light table he’d been hunched over, thick black framed glasses on, a string of photo negatives draped over one hand and a brow furrowed in the particular way it always did when he was debating whether a shot was genius or trash. The moment Elise’s head appeared in the doorway, though, his whole face softened, though he was pleasantly surprised to see her.
"Oh," he chuckled, "I forgot it was about that time of day. I just..." he sighed, turning back to the photos, "I'm having a hard time here. But lunch with one of my favorite people?" He grinned, looking back to Elise, "I think that might just be what I need to turn this luck of mine around. And I'm not just saying that because you offered to buy."
He reached to put his jacket on, slipping one arm through the sleeve before pulling the rest of it over his shoulders. A quick shrug settled the fabric into place, then he patted to make sure he had his keys on him. “So,where do you wanna go for lunch?”
Jin had his phone out, flashlight already on as he scanned the overgrown path leading up to the building. The place looked like something straight out of a horror movie. He was definitely here, for that, though. This beat sitting alone in his flat watching video game lore videos on YouTube, or scrolling through Reddit threads about cryptids at 2am, which was usually how his nights off went unless he bullied Mateo into entertaining him.
“It’s absolutely haunted,” Jin said, matter-of-factly, turning to look at Dario with a grin. “Look at this place, if there aren’t ghosts here, they’re missing out on some prime real estate.” He moved closer to peer through the gate alongside Dario. He turned his head to find a place where they could climb the fence or if there’d be a hole in it somewhere. He refused to believe they were the first thrill seekers to visit this place. “Nah, I’m alright.” Jin said politely, shaking his head when Dario pulled out the joint. “I’d like to keep my wits about me when we run from whatever’s in there. But you go ahead. Someone should be relaxed when the ghost of some Victorian child appears in the window.” He joked. “Anyway, what’s the story here? Did you do any research, or are we going in blind?”
“Smart man. The stoner always dies first in horror movies for doing exactly what I just suggested.” He took a slow drag, smoke curling around his face in the beam of Jin’s flashlight. “As for me?” He reached out and squeezed Jin’s shoulder solemnly. “I must sacrifice myself so your odds of survival go up. Remember me fondly, Jin. I didn’t die because I was stoned and tripped over my own feet, or because I dragged us to an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere.” He paused, placing the joint back between his lips with the seriousness of a man accepting a doomed fate. “No… I died for you. For your story to continue. For…”, he lit the joint with a soft click,“…the plot.”
Dario laughed, “Why is it always a Victorian child?” He took another hit of the joint, exhaling a thin ribbon of smoke that drifted toward the fence. “Like, what—no ghosts from the 90s? No one in a bucket hat and cargo pants haunting the halls? Just once I wanna get chased by the spirit of someone named Ashley who died tragically in a rollerblade accident.” He peered through the fence again, squinting into the dark. “Seriously though, all I found online was people arguing about whether the owner murdered his whole family or if the town just made it up to scare off trespassers. Which, honestly, only made me want to come more.” Dario gave Jin a crooked grin. “So yeah. We’re definitely going in blind. But...it's totally fine. Don't even worry about it."
He takes a couple of more drags, until it's halfway smoked, before putting it out, saving the rest for later. "C'mon. I think there's a hole over here we can squeeze through." He nods, leading them to where he last remembered seeing an opening. It wasn't big, but big enough. "See? We're not even like the first ones to do this. It's fiiiine." What if someone was living here? Crap. He suddenly felt a little uneasy but he didn't show it, he couldn't, he'd never let Jin know that he was regretting his choices already. Or maybe it was the weed. "Now...How do we get in? You don't suppose they just happen to have the front door unlocked, eh?"
closed: jin ( @purepinotnoir )
location: the outskirts of town, some odd hour of the night
Dario pressed his face into the iron gate in front of the abandoned house at the edge of Maple Brook, eyes darting around to take in every inch of the place for a brief moment. The place looked like it had been left to rot for decades—boards sagging, paint peeling, and the wind whining through every crack—but he was determined that there was still something of worth in there. Like a good story, if it was haunted. “Don't worry man, man,” he said, voice low and teasing. “This place? Not haunted. Probably. And honestly? If it is, it'll be one hell of a story.” He turned to look at his friend, grinning.
"Worst case scenario, we run screaming like idiots. Nobody will know it except us. Best case? We’ve got a story to tell for the rest of our lives. And between you and me…” He grinned wider, eyes glinting. “…I really hope it’s at least a little haunted.” It had been a while since something exciting happened in his life, so why not? He reached into his pocket for the pre-rolled joint he had brought along for the occasion, half for now and half for later. "Do you smoke? I can't remember. If you do, do you want any?"
closed: jd ( @divineinfamy )
location: pie making contest and bonfire (bonfire part)
Mateo stood near the edge of the bonfire, its flames snapping and curling upward, casting warm strokes of orange across his face. He cupped his hands around a mug of hot cider, letting the steam curl up against his nose. People were settling in now, shifting on logs and blankets underneath the blanket of the night sky. Any minute, someone was going to start telling the ghost stories, and the atmosphere was already shifting—lighter conversation melting into soft whispers.
Mateo took another sip, then angled a glance at the person beside him. “Hey—random question,” he started, voice dropping just a little as though the fire might be listening. “Do you think any of the ghost stories they’re about to tell are actually true? Even a tiny bit?” He let a lopsided grin tug at his mouth. “Because listen…if something out there starts whispering my name, I'm booking it out of here like a Scooby Doo cartoon. I refuse to stick around and see what happens."
Silas slammed the flat of his palm against the countertop, a grin spreading across his face. "Did you see that goal," he asked, awe tinging his tone. He'd supported the red devils since his days growing up in Manchester, he'd seen their ups and downs, -- they were a proud team with a storied history, and the way they were turning their fortunes around this season made him proud. So much so that he was feeling a bit generous. "What are you eating," he asked the person beside him, "lunch's on me."
Dario was one hundred percent invested in the game, despite not really knowing what was going on. He didn't hate sports, he just wasn't a really a sports kind of guy, but if it was on tv then he'd sit down to watch it. "Yeah, I did! It was crazy!" He laughed, shaking his head as he watched the replay flash across the tv again. Silas’s offer of free lunch, though, was enough to pull him away from the action. “Hm?” Dario turned to look at him, tilting his head. “You sure about that? You know I can eat.” But then he chuckled, flashing a friendly grin.“ A burger and some fries okay? And hey—if you swing by the cafe during my shift tomorrow. Coffee’s on the house. I just hope you like cats.”
It was easy enough to swirl around a glass of wine and pretend like he really knew what he was doing. Cliff tended to trust a sommelier on the picking for the Club, and after years of trying to be taught something and knowing it wasn't sticking, he was proven right. "My dirty secret is I have no idea what they're talking about with wine," he said, leaning over to the person next to him. "I've long given up trying to know. The grapes can keep their secrets. Who am I to attempt to know them?"
Mateo huffed a quiet laugh, turning his head slightly toward Cliff, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Honestly? Same,” he said, keeping his voice low, like he was letting Cliff in on some top secret information. “I just act like I’m smelling notes of sophistication and undertones of adulthood.” He gave the wine an exaggerated, theatrical swirl before taking a sip. “And for what it's worth, the grapes don’t talk to me either,” he went on, gently placing the glass back onto the table. “But if you ask me...I think wine is just juice with an attitude." He pauses, " Do you think we'd be able to get some cheese and crackers? That way when people look at us, they will be like...Oh those guys have cheese and crackers, so they definitely know their wines. It's the perfect plan."
( cis male, taylor zakhar perez, he/him ) look who goes there! It’s mateo cardenas . wait, you don’t know who he is? the 33 year old photographer at maple brook post has been in town for, like, two years. i believe they live in broomley, but i usually see them around route 82 drive-in. they can be a bit impulsive, but i think being kindhearted kinda balances them out, you know?
【🎸 ＶＯＬＵＭＥ UＰ：】
“taking over the world…one pie at a time..”
▸ BASIC INFO
Name: mateo ardenas
Age: 33
Pronouns: he/him
Occupation: photographer at maple brook post, baker by heart
Sexuality: bixsexual
Relationship Status: single
▸ BACKGROUND
death mention tw
mateo was a newborn when he was dropped off at the orphanage by his grandparents, who were unable to care for him after his parents passed due to a tragic accident. an accidental fire that spread too rapidly had engulfed the house he was in with his biological parents, both of whom passed due to complications from the incident. at the age of six, he was adopted into the de la rosa family. they were a warm and very open family.
he grew up with a full appreciation for the things around him. people, food, art, and music. he grew a passion for the drums thanks to tommy lee; it was the craziest out of body experience when he first him perform live. and from a young age his parents watered that seed, watching it blossom throughout time. he also had a really good hand when it came to baking, something he picked up thanks to his mother. his love for film came from his own doing of simply watching one too many movies during his down time.
he has always been the type of person to view the world as a canvas and their spirit being the paintbrush that is ready to fill it with every color possible. he's been known to get into trouble around town but nothing too serious. perhaps just a couple of bar fights here and there. he's got a good heart, but it's definitely misguided at times.
on days he isn't at band practice with his childhood friend mateo is more than likely baking up a storm at home or snapping pictures of the town.
▸ HEADCANONS
he loves to bake! the only reason he never became a baker is because he’s not a morning person 😔
has a pup named teddy whom he adores.
huge nerd! loves musicals, harry potter, conspiracy theories, and horror. he WILL bust out into a musical number if you let him, please don’t be alarmed.
he loves spoiling his roommates with food. he’s pretty much a househusband but without the marriage.
has a baby alien plushie that means the world to him. it’s a long story and he’s wiling to tell you if you ask.
he loves to bring his culture out in the baked goods and dishes he makes if possible. on dia de los muertos (day of the dead) he makes a special bread to set up for his ofrenda.
( cis male, michael cimino, he/him ) look who goes there! It’s dario morales wait, you don’t know who he is? the twenty-six old barista/twitch streamer at nine lives cafe has been in town for, like, his whole life. i believe they live in springdale, but i usually see them around skater’s haven roller rink. they can be a bit reckless, but i think being adventurous kinda balances them out, you know?
【🎸 ＶＯＬＵＭＥ UＰ：】
“Where pixels go to get burnt...and slightly confused.”
▸ BASIC INFO
Name: dario morales
Age: 26
Pronouns: he/him
Occupation: barista at nine lives by day, twitch streamer by night
Sexuality: unlabeled
Relationship Status: life, baby.
Twitch: toastedpixel
▸ BACKGROUND
death mention tw
dario was the runt of the litter, the youngest of the four morales siblings, and the one who treated rules like suggestions written in disappearing ink. his mind was a switchblade ; sharp, fast, and always half-open, and he could unintentionally charm a nun or detonate a classroom with the same spark in his eyes. report cards read “exceptional potential”; detention slips read “exceptional mouth.” he didn’t care because life outside of home was worth living, that’s how he viewed it.
the morales house was a pressure cooker on a street that forgot to pave its dreams. his dad drove a forklift by day and drowned the overtime in cheap rum by night, slamming cabinet doors like he was in a fight no one else was invited to. his mom stitched uniforms in a factory that paid by the piece and prayed in whispers while the iron hissed. fights ricocheted off plaster walls the way bullets bounce in movies; loud, pointless, and impossible to duck. mostly the fighting was between his parents when he was growing up, but it became more frequent with him and his father the older he got.
dario figured out quick that trouble was just gravity with better timing. what did it matter if he got in trouble? even when he tried not to it just followed him or his father would come up with something to blame him for. so he leaned into it by sneaking out after curfew to tag the empty walls of the city, hustling tickets at the arcade until the owner banned him for life, starting fistfights he never quite finished, and was unapologetically dario when he was in nyc. every split lip, every parent-teacher conference, every “you’re better than this” from his mom too tired to believe it had anything to do with the way his father treated him. the way he saw it was...the hit’s coming either way; might as well choose the angle and make them worth it.
he's twenty-six now and has cut ties with his father. he hasn't really spoken to his family since the passing of his mother, who seemed to have been the glue for them all. he's made a little life for himself in maple brook now, landing a gig at the local cat cafe, and he's happier these days than he's ever been. if he isn't at work or streaming on twitch (every day 7pm-11pm), chances are he's probably getting himself in some sort of trouble. sometimes he does it on purpose just because he's bored.
▸ HEADCANONS
he doesn't take life too seriously, but seriously enough.
loves tattoos even though he doesn't have any. truth is, he just can't make up his mind on what to get.
doesn't like heights, but loves rollercoasters (he doesn't get it either)
he is usually stoned when he's streaming. and he's typically streaming a scary game he's playing, but every so often switches it up.
annaxmalina
baratheonpilled
pixelskylines
dededos
blakekathryn
stormborns
