#ft. lucas

[sebvora]

LOCATION — Outside of a random dive bar in town.

CHARACTERS — Sebastian & Lucas ( @lucas-williams )

"You're seriously going to be a bunch of fuckin' pricks over, what? Broken glass? I told you, it was an accident — get your dirty hands off me," Sebastian spit over his shoulder towards the security — bartender? Random patron? He couldn't tell — that had a firm grip on his shoulder, forcefully guiding him towards the open front doors of the bar as he fought them tooth and nail against it. As it turns out, dropping one glass and having it shatter against the floor could clearly be labeled an accident, but by the third time someone had to come out and sweep up tiny little shards, they were recommending he leave with a pretty insistent stare. He tried to tell them that it wasn't his fault, that it had kept slipping from his hands conveniently whenever Colorado had scored during the rerun of the hockey game on the overhead TVs, but apparently there were only so many times that they could believe him. They were fucking dicks, clearly, by not wanting him to have fun in their bar — it had pissed him off and he wound up making the situation so much worse than it needed to be, hence ending up standing in the middle of the sidewalk with no other backup plan in mind for the night.

He figured that he might as well go home, because now he was a teensy bit tipsy and annoyed as all fuck and he realized that he left his pen at home anyway; it was probably for the best. However, when he pulled up his phone and tried to call his roommates, both of them had the audacity to ignore his call. It was then he remembered that CJ and Jeanie mentioned something this afternoon about spending the night with their respective families, and he huffed out a sigh.

His thumb scrolled down his list of numbers in search of his brother's and he accidentally scrolled too far, hovering over Lucas' contact instead. Rather than debating on if it was a good idea or not in his mind, he clicked down on his name in the blink of an eye and put it on speaker. He shifted his weight on his heels, unsure whether to expect an answer or to be sent to voicemail this late at night. "Heyyy, Lukey — listen, can you come pick me up? I'm, uh . . ." he looked upwards, "I'm in a bit of a pickle 'cause I may have, like, totally pissed these guys off at this stupid bar I was at — it was fuckin' ridiculous, Luke, really. Absolute bullshit. But, um, I forgot I couldn't get home tonight and — yeah. I'll text you my location, if that's helpful. Please?"

[seance]

THE MUSKETEERS 10TH ANNIVERSARY REWATCH / fave episodes [3/?] ↳ SEASON 1, EPISODE 8 / the challenge

[cringengl]

Underrated bitchy Will Byers moment: when a lady calls the party 'exterminators'

I love him sm😭😭😭

[silentgrim]

two flower boys, one lover

[purgatored]

STATUS : closed for @patroclusblossom ! LOCATION : the motel !

CHERRY BLINKS AT THE SIGHT OF HIM . once and then twice before her face scrunches in honest confusion . " the fuck did i do ?" cherry would say that the question was understandable all things considered . after all, she only ever really saw lucas for one reason and one reason only . but even know as cherry wracks her brain she can't imagine what he'd be bringing her in for . she tries to think back, trying to consider what she's done in the past few days that she might be getting caught out for now . she's coming up empty, but frankly, it's been a long couple of days . she can't be expected to remember all the shit she does . she's not a fuckin' computer . " i didn't do shit, luke ." a bewildered twist of her expression . " and haven't you got better things to do than hover over me ? aren't we in a crisis or whatever ?"

[scrollonso]

Secret Wife — Strollini

Lance walked into the post-race press area, his face still flushed and his pulse still racing from the adrenaline of a hard-fought race. It had been a challenging one — full of tense moments, quick maneuvers, and a final sprint to the finish that left him exhausted yet exhilarated. As he stepped into the spotlight, he felt the weight of both his victory and the gaze of the assembled media.

But today, there was something different adding to the warmth on his face. In his arms, nestled comfortably, was his two-year-old daughter, Delilah. With a tender smile, he adjusted her tiny form against his chest. She clung to him with all the natural trust of a child, her tiny fingers gripping the fabric of his race suit as if it were a lifeline. Lance’s heart softened as he glanced down at her. Her wispy curls, so much like her uncle's — despite Delilah not being biologically related to any of them — were tucked behind her ear, but her face was partially hidden, pressed against his shoulder as she shied away from the bright lights and intense gaze of the cameras.

The sight of Delilah like this — close to him, unguarded and innocent in her reaction to this overwhelming world — was a rare treat for Lance. His life in racing was so fast-paced, so full of high stakes and tight schedules, that he seldom got to bring his family into this side of his life. He savored every second of it now, the feel of her soft, tiny hand on his shoulder, her hesitant breaths against his neck. It was one of those simple, perfect moments where the roles of racer and father blended into one, and he felt a kind of pride he couldn’t express in words.

As he approached the interviewer, who was waiting with a smile, Lance took a steadying breath and kept Delilah balanced securely in his arms. She shifted slightly, peeking out at the crowd with wide eyes before quickly hiding again, making Lance chuckle softly. Her reaction was priceless, and he couldn’t help but grin a bit wider.

The interviewer started, launching into the usual questions. They covered race strategies, the car’s performance, and his team’s dedication — standard questions that Lance answered with practiced ease. He talked about the long hours of preparation, the challenge of the track, and how proud he was of his crew. Delilah squirmed a little in his arms as the questions droned on, but Lance held her close, gently patting her back as he spoke.

Then, near the end, the interviewer’s expression softened, and he leaned forward with a warm smile, clearly ready to shift gears. He gestured at Delilah, his voice taking on a more personal tone as he asked, “And I have to ask, how does it feel to have such an adorable little fan here with you today? I’m sure your wife must be incredibly proud, seeing you out there with your little one!”

The words hung in the air, and Lance’s smile froze just a little. The question had been innocent enough, a friendly assumption that reflected a common misconception. In the eyes of the public, “wife” would have been a safe guess. But Lance knew the truth — and the truth was that it wasn’t a wife who waited for him after races, who laughed with him through long evenings, or who had given him the beautiful little girl currently in his arms. It was Luca, his husband, who knew him better than anyone and who shared in every high and low of his journey.

For a split second, Lance felt the urge to correct the interviewer, to tell him that it was his husband who was waiting for him today. But he kept his face relaxed, managing a warm chuckle to smooth over the moment. He replied with practiced ease, “Yeah, Delilah and… all of us are really happy after today.” He gave the interviewer a meaningful nod and a small, almost private smile.

It was a vague answer, careful but sincere, and it was enough. The interviewer nodded, seeming satisfied, and moved on to his closing remarks, wrapping up the interview without another question on the topic. Lance felt a wave of relief as he stepped back, holding Delilah a bit closer.

Once the interview wrapped up, Lance took a deep breath, the whirlwind of questions and flashing cameras finally fading away. He shifted Delilah’s weight slightly on his hip, feeling her settle back against him, her little arms clinging tightly to his shoulder. Her energy had relaxed, soothed by his familiar presence, and he couldn’t help but smile as he gently kissed the top of her head. Now came the best part of his post-race routine: retreating to the privacy of his driver’s room, where Luca would be waiting.

Navigating through the maze of hallways, Lance finally reached the door and stepped inside, feeling the tension from the day drain as he crossed the threshold. Luca was there, sprawled comfortably on the couch with one arm slung across the backrest, his lips curling into a knowing grin as he watched Lance come in.

“There’s my superstar,” Luca teased, patting the seat beside him. “And my little sidekick, of course,” he added, winking at Delilah.

Lance chuckled and set Delilah down. She wasted no time toddling over to Luca, her tiny steps wobbly but determined as she made a beeline for her dad. She reached up, demanding a lift, and Luca happily obliged, scooping her up into his lap as she giggled and tugged at his shirt.

"I caught that little interview just now," Luca said, unable to hold back his laughter as he wrapped an arm around Delilah. “So… your wife is really proud of you, huh?”

Lance let out a long-suffering sigh, though the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement. “Don’t start,” he said, shaking his head as he collapsed onto the couch beside them. “What am I supposed to say, though? You know how they all assume…” He trailed off, spreading his hands in resignation.

Luca raised an eyebrow, his grin growing wider as he leaned closer. “Ah, I think someone needs a little media training,” he said with mock seriousness, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “If we’re going to keep fooling the world, we might as well do it right.” Neither of them were quite sure why they kept eachother a secret, some fans had caught on but they didn't feel as though they owed them anything besides a good performance on track.

Lance folded his arms, his lips twitching in mock annoyance. “Alright, go ahead,” he challenged, unable to hide the hint of intrigue in his eyes. “What do you want me to say when they ask me about my nonexistent wife?”

Luca’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in, wrapping an arm around Lance’s shoulders and pulling him closer. “Alright, first rule: keep it simple. When they ask if your family’s proud, you just smile and say, ‘Yes, my family is so supportive.’ That way, they get what they want to hear, and you don’t have to lie.” He raised an eyebrow, giving Lance a playful wink. “But if they get nosy and start poking around… just flash that mysterious smile of yours and say, ‘That’s for me to know.’”

Lance let out a laugh, shaking his head in amazement. “You’re actually really good at this.”

“Of course I am,” Luca replied, crossing his arms with a smug look. “I’ve been playing this game with you for years. You could say I’m an expert.”

Delilah, who had been happily babbling to herself on Luca’s lap, suddenly clambered up to reach for Lance, her little hands outstretched as she called, “Papa!” She settled herself between the two of them, her small fingers wrapping around their arms as she looked back and forth between them, blissfully unaware of the conversation.

Luca’s expression softened as he looked down at her, his gaze filled with warmth. “Besides,” he murmured, brushing a stray curl from her face, “she’ll start answering those questions for you soon enough.” He leaned down, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “What do you think, principessa?” he asked her in a soft voice. "Dirai a tutti dei tuoi due papà?

Delilah just giggled, clapping her hands together as if she understood perfectly — their girl was smart so it wouldn't be too far fetched to assume she did — and both dads couldn’t help but chuckle. Lance looked over at Luca, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love. Even though he couldn’t share this part of his life with the world, he knew he was lucky to have these moments, to have his family close, even if it was a secret for now.

He leaned back, resting his head against Luca’s shoulder, his eyes half-closed in contentment. Luca gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and for a moment, they sat there in comfortable silence, the three of them tangled together in a quiet embrace.

“You did great today,” Luca murmured after a while, breaking the silence as he squeezed Lance’s hand once more. “And when the time comes, when you’re ready… we’ll know just what to say. Until then,” he added, giving Lance a sly smile, “you’ve got your media coach here.”

Lance chuckled, rolling his eyes but feeling his heart swell with affection. “Thanks, coach,” he replied, brushing a quick kiss against Luca’s cheek. “Guess I’ll be practicing those answers… with my very proud husband.”

[musictyme]

A Tribe Called Quest - 1nce Again ft. Tammy Lucas

[emilmoreno]

@nataliedcluca Event: Halloween Party @ Golden Hour Beach Bar. "A'ight, alright... here me out." Emil was a little extra lively, the buzz of alcohol alight in his veins. So far, he'd been thoroughly enjoying himself. Letting go of the worries that awaited him come the reality of tomorrow morning. That and the potential for a hangover. "You think they'd hire me as a mascot?" His grin was a mile wide, brows raised in a playful waggle, and he struck a pose in front of his friend. A mostly empty beer bottle in one hand, and his orange tail in the other. Trying to swing it in a way that didn't look ridiculous. A task that was proving difficult. "Okay, so I don't got the tail bit down yet but I think I could hack it." His laugh nestled in his throat, "—but hey it's one way to get back out on the field yeah?" Emil was pretty sure there was something about it that would always call to him, even if he'd accepted that his dreams of a proper career in the Big Leagues had long since sailed. "You think owning a fur suit would help or hurt my luck with ladies?" Amusement clung to his words, "Honestly. Jokes aside, I don't think I could do it. I get a little claustrophobic an' I think these ears are about as close as I'm getting to strutting around like Tony the Tiger."

[gabevargas]

characters: gabe & natalie where: rusty saddle tagging: @nataliedcluca

It was his last week of freedom before he started Monday in the auto shop, and Gabe was set on a wild blowout to round off this spontaneous vacation. He was a few beers and tequilas deep as he hung with the friends he had made over the last few weeks—some guys from the gym and a few people Benny had introduced to him. Gabe loudly bragged about his impending victory as he stepped up for his final shot. When he bent over the table, someone caught his eye in the distance, and the distraction fucked him up. "Hey... relax. Victory is still mine, but..." he placed the cue on the table and shrugged. "I've something better to attend to, guys!" He down the last of his beer, then made his way over to the bar.

The woman in question was standing there with friends of her own when Gabe made a point of bumping into her. "Oh, sorry... blame the tequila!" When she turned to him, he smirked. It had been a while, but you always remembered the face of the woman you married in Vegas. "Surprise!"

[papaflynn]

characters: callum & nat where: firefly brewery tagging: @nataliedcluca

The season had finally started again, and Callum had been quietly happy to see Natalie back for another year of rivalry. The kids mattered most, but the competitor in him couldn't face another year of losing to her. He had to rub that smug grin off her stupidly pretty face, and this was the year. In their usual tradition, the two met up after the introductory mini-tournament. They would get drunk and set the terms of their forfeit for the end of the season.

"Right, there's no messing about this year... distracting me with tequila to then steal all my tactics and make me agree to the worst forfeit!" Callum quipped before he sipped his beer, hiding his grin from her. Honestly, he enjoyed all of it. He didn't mind. He looked forward to their sideline battles and post-match beers more than she probably knew. "I'm a fortress, missy... You can't crack me." He laughed. "But... " he placed two shots on the table with a mischievous smirk. "A wee tipple of tequila or two couldn't do too much harm, so it couldn't...."

[studiousbotanist]

WOOHOO COZY !!!! finally rearranged the living room looks so much nicer and now the windows aren't as blocked . YAY !!!!!

[niaxbailey]

Who: Leyla & Enzo event - summer music fest "Don't take this the wrong way..." Nia looked utterly relieved, half hanging out of her car and catching a glimpse of the other woman. "-but I'm so glad it's you... I'm too cute to get yelled at today." That didn't stop the other cars behind them from honking, but in the mess of festival traffic and the lanes being cut down with bright orange cones and yellow tape - she'd take a fender bender with someone she knew over a random concertgoer. The woman had hard merged last minute, but there hadn't been enough room for her to do so cleanly and her car got a love tap by Leyla's. Having pulled aside as close to the curb as she could for traffic to attempt to be moved around them, Nia grabbed her phone and keys and just barely slipped through the crack of her door to join her friend and survey the damage. "I'm really sorry though, I panicked. The lanes went down to one out of nowhere and I thought I could make it." Nia exhaled, still a little visibly flustered despite her good humor. "So... uh..." she put a finger to her nose. "Not it. I volunteer you as tribute, to call Enzo."

@leylayilmz

[mushroom-for-art]

Rio and Rio! Luca-Rio is mine and Rio-lu belongs to @extraskully5! Sorry it's a bit scribble messy trying to teach myself to be okay with less clean lineart and colors outside the line, wanted to experiment with different brushes too!

[jonathanbyersphd]

Now Playing (Taylor's Version) Volume 2

A continuation of this post

[silentgrim]

this is an official gunthermunch post. dont be fooled

[alarakcplan]

starter for: @enzoadeluca location: a road outside of briar ridge's city limits

Pain. That's all she registered as she slowly blinked her eyes open. She was lying on her side and something heavy - must be her bike - was laying heavily on her leg, pinning her to the ground. Wincing, she slowly tried to push herself up into a seated position. 

She'd gone for a ride to clear her head, heading beyond Briar Ridge's city limits and out onto the open road, letting the roar of her __ drown out all the noise in her head. What had started as a ride to clear her head had abruptly ended when a patch of black ice completely took her by surprise, causing her back wheel to spin out from underneath her and the bike to land on top of her. 

Getting her bearings was proving more difficult than it should have been. Reaching up to adjust her helmet, she was grateful for the protection. Unbeknownst to her, the helmet bore the signs of being scraped along the asphalt, protecting her head from what would have inevitably been a much worse injury. As it was, she was just feeling a little shaken. 

As she slowly began to piece things together, she didn't even hear someone approaching on foot.