[ ashton sanders | cismale | he/him | twenty-two ] —— it’s just another typical week in hawkins i guess — isn’t that right, lucas sinclair? huh, guess they can’t hear me over GONE, GONE / THANK YOU by tyler, the creator playing on their walkman, but it looks like they’re headed to class as a/at roane community college. did you know lucas has been in hawkins for all his life? yeah, they’ve been described as a bit tenacious, but i suppose them also being courageous outweighs the negative. i’ve also heard people say they remind them of converse on gym floors, well-thumbed comic books, arcade tokens, cocoa butter-soft knees & elbows, the sting from dribbling a basketball, highlighted textbooks, glow-in-the-dark stars on a faded ceiling, fresh rubber… however, that could just be this weeks newest rumor.
full name: lucas charles sinclair
nickname(s): lucas, lukey (derogatory; erica’s doing)
name meaning: bringer of light
age: twenty-two
date of birth: february 22
place of birth: hawkins, indiana
current location: hawkins, indiana
gender: cis man
sexuality: bisexual
pronouns: he/him
religion: agnostic
occupation: engineering student
education level: high school
financial status: he lives at home and is on a basketball scholarship, so not bad all things considered
spoken languages: english
musings & headcanons
lucas is attending community college on a basketball scholarship, hoping to get out of hawkins but still feeling attached and like he just can’t leave the people he loves to fester there. still, he has hopes of being scouted.
he maybe - definitely - hasn’t gotten over max (and doesn’t know if he ever will)
while of course he’s been grappling with his world being turned literally upside down, he’s also been dealing with new-found feelings for other men as he’s been at college; being bisexual is very new to him
his parents still try to make him go to church every sunday, and always give him the same disappointed looks when he doesn’t. he feels a lot of guilt, and maybe a bit of a loss of community, but he doesn’t know how to really cope with that, so it’s been bottled up and stored away
the older he gets, the more angry he gets - or, the more he sees the world for what it is, for how fucked it is - especially for people who look like him - and for how he desperately wants to do some good but it’s so exhausting
lucas did join the black student collective at the college, which has been so rewarding
he’s been trying to get a part-time job for a few months now, just to get out of the house and do something more interesting than studying or waiting for the next crisis call from his friends. it’s been a bit hard, but he hopes his mom won’t give him that look when he gets one, and he’s hopeful that the comics shop on main street will take him on
part of why he wants a job is to get his own car - his parents pay for his insurance and everything, but he doesn’t get much freedom or time to drive because he’s restricted to the family vehicle. and lucas loves to drive; it clears his head
lucas and erica fight a lot, but they’re truly each others ride or die
outside of erica, though? he sees his friends as his true family. you can’t go through everything they’ve been through time and time again without being intrinsically connected for life
he feels a pressure to be perfect, and has since middle school. it contributes to his frequent feelings of anxiety
most of all though? he misses d&d in mike’s basement. he knows he’s probably too old for it anyway, knows it’s better to just accept growing up and changing, but when your hometown is hawkins? that's never easy. and maybe they all grew up too fast anyway. but what’s lucas gonna do about that? unlike his friends, one slight misstep, one poorly timed and made decision can cost him everything
nancy had been laying on the couch in the wheeler family basement, eyes staring at the ceiling and counting all of its tiles. she felt a bit stuck after spending a majority of the day trying to clean downtown, her brain feeling as if it was on fire from the amount of information she was trying to get from random strangers about the storm. mixed in with how exhausted she was from trips to the hospital, one couldn’t blame her for laying on the couch.
that is until she hears a knock at the side door to outside from the basement.
❝ hi lucas. mike isn’t here. not sure where he is, actually. ❞
there are a couple of places around town that lucas feels the most safe in, knows that they’re somewhere he can go to relax in, to get away from it all. and right now home doesn’t feel remotely close to what it should feel like so lucas hopped on his bike, practically on auto pilot to the wheeler’s basement.
he rides around the house on the grass, leaving a shiny, flat streak in it behind him, but not caring as he reaches the door and gets off, flipping down the stand.
lucas is surprised when nancy answers - he didn’t think she was usually down there like, ever. “hi, i uh. wasn’t really looking for mike, i just...” he hope the pause doesn’t make him look like he’s lying, or desperate. “i forgot a textbook here.”
it had been an incredibly slow day at family video; robin would’ve volunteered to watch paint dry if she could because at least there would be a sense of accomplishment after the wait. sitting there, she hadn’t had a customer in at least two hours, so she decided to fiddle with the radio they kept under the desk. she was pretty sure one of the kids had given it the her and steve when they first started, but it had never been used, to her knowledge.
after twisting the knob a few times, a voice came through the static. she wasn’t really aware of how to use one, so she touched it carefully to avoid changing the channel. there was crackling through the speaker, but it wasn’t static. “h- hello? lucas?” she called once pushing the call button. “are you good? it sounds a little… outdoorsy… over.”
he takes a breath in when robin’s voice crackles over at other end. relief starts to flood through him, but not enough to ease the full red alert he’s on. lucas knows he shouldn’t be here, knows the cops or feds or whoever they’ve got down here this time could wreak hell down onto him if he was found but.
but something doesn’t feel right about this.
“robin? i - ” and he breaks his own well-practiced rule, clicking off the mic. he collects himself quickly enough, though. “i don’t know. i’m...i’m by where...you know. and something is weird here, like i can feel it in the air and i don’t even know if that makes sense...over.”
lucas sighs as he pulls open the door to the diner, amazed the scent of grease and beef hasn’t quite taken over the smell of fresh plywood yet, and walks up to the counter. it’s been a long day, between school and the ever impending doom of hawkins. he just wants some damn fries and a coke.
he takes the only free seat at the counter, feeling a little warm at the bustle of the restaurant. he doesn’t notice who he sits next to until he looks up to find a waiter, and seeing eddie munson on his left instead. a cold prickle of panicked awkwardness shoots through him as he knows eddie’s had to have seen him, too. so he bites his lip, offering a small smile.
losing the entire crowd of people max entered the corn maze with wasn’t exactly something she had been anticipating, especially with how dark it was getting, but max mayfield was never one to give up. she felt like she was finally on a good path, making swifter moves to try and keep with the motions. if max looked back now, she’d probably have to find shelter for the night.
but when she felt a sudden warm hand on hers, she jumped, ready to fight whatever was trying to come after her. before realizing it was lucas, that is. and even then, as she was about to start yelling at him, she stopped when she heard his voice. ❝ i nearly about slashed you with my fake knife hand, so i’m not sure that was in the cards for the maze. or merrill wright. ❞
stuck with lucas in a maze as lost as could be, and only now did max’s heart rate start increasing. ❝ and, after everything, i don’t think we’re at odds… do you ? ❞ max pressed her lips together to stop their quivering. if anything, she’d blame it on the frigid breeze blowing above their heads.
lucas sucks in a breath, blowing it back out with an easy chuckle. leave it to max to always put him at ease. even when they’re arguing, it’s comfortable...which maybe is something he should seek help about, but he’d rather attribute it to how much he cares for her.
“wow, i’m so scared,” he teases. he moves closer to her, tangling their fingers together in an echo of held hands. he’ll let her make the move, if she wants. (and he hopes she does. it’s a cold night, after all). “you’re the most terrifying plastic knife wielder of them all.”
“and no,” lucas says, voice low and heart racing. “i don’t think we’ve ever actually been on the opposite side of things.” he grins, leaning down to her, ever so slowly closing the space between them, their breath close enough to mingle hotly in the cold fall air. “for as much as we fight, i’ll always be on your side, max mayfield.”
where: pumpkin carving station (mccorkle’s patch)
when: evening
with: @lucsinclairs
“You know those designs people do where they have their pumpkin throwing up its guts? Well, I totally get it now,” Will says, wrinkling their nose in distaste as they scrape away some more of their own gourd’s stinking innards. “This smells worse than Dustin’s feet.”
“you’re so right,” lucas says, wrinkling his nose. he leans over will, seeing their pumpkin looking much emptier than his own. his eye catches the sketch will made for their pumpkin design. he whistles. “should’ve known your skills would translate to gourds, too,” lucas knocks their shoulders together. “i’m sure it’s gonna take me just as long as it’ll take you to do that to carve three triangles and a semi-circle on my pumpkin.”
in the short time they had been in hawkins, she was starting to get a feel for where buildings were and what uniforms the local business workers wore. however, unluckily for her, the storm hit and put the entire town in a state of disarray now. lia was trying to find their way to melvads when they got turned around and swore they were seeing the same tree for the third time. “e- excuse me? could you point me in the direction of melvads? if it’s not been destroyed, i guess. i’m new and am in desperate need of snacks.”
while lucas was a little nervous to head back to the library - considering he got holed up there during the storm - it’s the one place he can actually try to research anything about whatever fresh hell has set upon hawkins. he nestles into his coat as a cold, autumn breeze picks up and a girls comes up to him.
she’s timid, but he can tell she must have some level of humour. “new?” he says, letting out a low whistle. “you saw the town welcome sign on the way in, right? i’m pretty sure no one’s taken the spray paint off it...anyway yeah, melvad’s is just next to radioshack, on the main street downtown.” he pauses, tilting his head. “if you know where that is, i guess?”
“weird…or scary. maybe both.” lucas wasn’t her enemy here, not that chrissy had many or any to begin with. she just couldn’t find her normal self in all the chaos. “it’s good to see you’re alright though especially after the storm.”
lucas nods. “you too. your family and your - everyone, they okay?”
he’s trying to bridge the awkwardness, trying to find a middle ground that says he understands. that he’s sorry things happened the way they did. that he’s there now, if she needs someone to talk through it all. the problem is, he can’t quite find the words.
jonathan sighs, adjusting something on his camera. they give themselves a moment before looking over at the people just starting to flow into the pumpkin patch. they had already been here a few hours, conducting interviews and taking photos, actually make some use to his photography journalism degree. no one knew what jonathan came as, they had thought to themselves: if they had to dress up, they were going to do something obscure, and anyone that knew jonathan knew that his favourite band was the cure it just made sense he’d come as robert smith no matter how niche. “alright, mind if i take a picture? you have the nice chance of being the front cover of the paper- or at least in a section of one.” his smile is a fake, he knows by the end of this he’s going to be tired by the use of his customer service voice and smile. “say…” he sighs, knowing he’s going to cringe when he finally says it, “pumpkin!”
lucas lost track of his friends a little while ago when he broke off to grab some more cider. the pumpkin patch definitely wasn’t without familiar, friendly faces, though, and he notes this as he sees jonathan fiddling with their camera. as he gets closer, he almost wants to laugh at the use of his fake-nice voice - lucas, of course, far more familiar with their big brother sternness outside of their normal voice - but instead gives him a light clap on his shoulder. he speaks as he does it, not wanting to startle jonathan too much.
“hard at work, huh? not a bad gig,” lucas frowns then, thinking. “wait, you are getting paid for this right?”
lucas has no idea why he agreed to going into the maze individually. normally, he tries not to fuck with this kinda shit; life throws enough of it at him as it is. but god if he isn’t bored and wanting to do something normal for once.
plus, corn mazes are known to be easy. he’s far from stupid and knows all the tricks, and yet - another dead end. and it’s starting to get dark. sighing, he follows left back out of it, catching a glimpse of long, fiery hair turning the next corner. naturally, he doesn’t think much before following after the red waves.
he catches up quickly - and quietly - brushing his fingers, warm from his jacket pocket, over max’s freezing ones. he speaks in a low tone, trying to be smooth despite the chill in the air and the desire to get the absolute fuck outta there. “guess the maze is really making sure we aren’t at odds with each other, being stuck in the same place an’ all.”
WEARY : for one muse to wake up after falling asleep on the other.
at first, lucas doesn't even know he was asleep. he blinks, vision blurred and head a little foggy, feeling warm. instantly, he sees he's in the byers' living room and in that comfort he nestles further against the warm, soft heat that must've lulled him to sleep. he's always felt safe here, even when will disappeared. there's just so much love in this home, so much more than any of the pain in it. and will himself has always made him feel comfortable. lucas yearns for that kind of feeling in his own home, though, and even if his mother provides it the tension from his father...he doesn't like to think about it. so he shuts his eyes and envelopes himself in the kindness here.
there's a soft sigh, amused and content, and lucas finally realises he's not alone. he blinks back the rest of the fog, looking at everything around him and seeing that the warm thing against him is will. their homework is spread across the coffee table and lucas almost groans as he remembers how much reading and note taking he has left to do of the enormous textbook laying open in front of him.
lucas leans off of will, who must've worked through his little nap, judging by the notebook and pencil in his hands.
"sorry," lucas says. "not the best study partner today, am i?"
CAUGHT : for one muse to walk in on the other singing / dancing.
"oh my god, look at this nerd!" lucas jumps, turning hard enough to practically give him whiplash.
stevie wonder blares from his headphones as he rips them off, heart racing. he glares at erica, who rudely barged in and interrupted one of the few happy moments he gets these days.
31. When do they feel the most guilt? How do they respond to it?
lucas feels the most guilt at home. he always thinks he's letting his parents down, even though he just wants to live his life the way he wants to. while the surface of it may seem to lie in not going to the right school or not hanging out with the right people, much of it truly rests in his father's possessiveness and religious contention. half the time lucas feels like his critique of the church is the easiest separation from his parents he can do besides moving out - which, despite being an adult would cause a lot of upset - while the other half of the time he's not sure if he'll end up in hell because of it. it's a level of trauma he doesn't quite understand how to deal with.
he also feels guilty that erica has been pulled into all of this. she's his baby sister, he's supposed to protect her, not drag her into the mess along with him. and he knows there's no stopping her stubborn ass, he's terrified that if something happens...he'll be at fault for it, and knows he will definitely be blamed. which, naturally, brings about more guilt.
lucas doesn't cope well with all of this, opting to bottle it up and push it down. he's not sure anyone else will quite understand.
NIGHTMARE : for one muse to comfort the other after a nightmare. LUMAX (:
lucas doesn't think he'll ever get used to the sound of max in fear and pain, no matter how often it happens. and god, he hopes he doesn't anyway.
at least now, he knows not to wake or hover over her, to let it pass until she wakes herself up, sits on the side of the bed like she is now. all he can do is listen to her breathe, but that itself is a comfort.
he always lets her reach for him first, staying attentive in case she gets worse but never pushing. letting max touch him first, pull him in until he closes the gap between them. they don't always talk; they don't always have to.
the mckinney’s were always a family of image and morals — back before the dirty secrets came out from under the rug almost two years ago, that is. appearances at town events, planners on nearly any committee hawkins had, volunteering bi-weekly, and church every sunday. it was a routine that broke when monnie came home from university, and diminished completely upon patrick’s death. after the divorce, monnie had none of it. the only thing she could control was her faith.
now, monnie mckinney isn’t an overly religious person, but something about the pews felt safe. a new schedule to follow and something that happened every week without a doubt. she was just finally getting back into it when she noticed a new, but familiar face with his own parents. ❝ hey, sinclair, ❞ monnie started the conversation off as she poured some coffee into a styrofoam cup. ❝ haven’t seen you here in a bit. ❞
there’s a lot that makes lucas question his faith. growing up, his parents were his everything; there was no questioning them. but it became easier to, almost a given, when he met dustin and mike and will. when science became his focus, and fantasy worlds after that. it was more and more logical to him to distance himself from the church when he could. to feign interest to his parents. the upside down made him question everything again, now agnostic if anything, but nothing felt right.
(nothing feels right anymore, ever.)
so, occasionally, to get his dad off his ass, lucas agrees to go to church on sundays. he can’t remember the last time he joined his parents on sunday morning, but he figured now is the best time, considering the body. the storm. taking their minds off that, off where him and erica were during it, means having to face his faith. and apparently, monnie mckinney.
“uh, hi monnie,” he says, feeling his face heat from how absolutely awkward he feels. “yeah, it sure has been...a while. are you working here?”
“lucas, hi.” chrissy smiled, the gesture not fully reaching her eyes but meaning well just the same. “It’s been alright, some days better than others. I think we can all relate to that one. how has everything been with you?”
he can sense a bit of tension from chrissy in her reply. he can’t blame her, honestly. coming up to her like this, out of the blue and...and with everything that happened and has gone on - it’s never normal or fine anymore.
“yeah, for sure. it’s a weird world, weird...everything now.”
