#bullied lance

[seaquestions]

on tuesdays and thursdays, you can find him at the dragon's den.

[gottagobackintime]

Trent being startled/frightened

[autisticlancemcclain]

Lance knows he talks way too fucking much.

He started talking at seven months old. He never stopped. It was his older brother Marco, he thinks, who first called him Motormouth, but honestly he doesn’t remember. He’s been called that and Lancito Lorito longer than he can remember.

He loved the nickname, when he was little. His brothers or sisters or cousins or parents would groan, playfully, when they saw the look in his eyes, but always indulged his constant lectures and ideas and rambling. Motormouth meant you talk a lot but I like to listen. Motormouth meant I know you enough to have a trait I associate with you. Motormouth meant fondness and teasing and care. He loved that name.

When he was seven years old, one of his friends tugged her older sister over to where Lance was colouring with sidewalk chalk on the pavement.

“Look,” she’d said, gesturing to Lance but not talking to him. Lance had looked up from his chalk and smiled at her, opening his mouth to say hello but was interrupted by the subtle elbow she’s jammed into her sister’s side, and her muttered, “Watch this.”

“Hey, Motormouth,” she’d said, and Lance grinned, feeling something warm bloom in his stomach at her use of the nickname, oblivious to the choked-back laughter of the sister. “What was that thing you were talking about earlier? About the comet?”

If at all possible, Lance had brightened further, dropping the chalk and dusting off his hands as he’d launched into an explanation about the comet he’d been tracking with his dad. It was supposed to be visible for the first time in thousands of years that month, and he’d been buzzing with excitement about it. He talked about it to everyone who even appeared like they were maybe going to ask him about it. He’s rambled about it to the cashier at the grocery store the evening before.

“Just look at him,” his friend’s sister had said, something almost like awe in her voice, but not quite. Lance faltered, trailing off mid-sentence. “You were right. He’s like a wind-up toy.”

“Mo-tor-mouth,” his friend had said, in a distinct, sing-songy voice. “I told you I could make him do it on command.”

The girls burst into giggles. Lance had looked around, hesitantly, and found a number of his classmates giggling to themselves, at him or not he didn’t know, but he did know that he felt, distinctly, like he was in a zoo, and his friend was not his friend but a keeper who’d brought spectators to observe him and his freakish oddness.

Motormouth had felt, for the first time, like the insult he didn’t know it had always been. He felt trapped.

He’s grown since then. He’s no longer seven years old and oblivious to the fact that some people are quietly cruel. He knows the warning signs, now, of when someone is mocking him, of when he’s being treated like a pet, like an amusing little weirdo to cart around and show off. He knows the difference now between amusement and endearment.

But that feeling, that realization. The brick-to-the-face understanding that he was wrong about how other people cared about him the whole time he loved them.

He has never been able to un-know that.

———

He and Keith have a system. Lance starts work earlier, and is home earlier too, so he makes dinner for them. Keith cleans up after, crawling into bed next to a half-asleep Lance if they eat late enough. Sometimes, though, Keith gets home early, finished a repair faster than he’d anticipated, and decides he wants to make them supper for a change. Today Lance sits on the counter, kicking his legs and eating half the vegetables Keith has cut, grinning every time Keith lets him get away with it.

“…And there was this one woman who came on the trails today, babe, I swear to God, she’s the same nightmare lady you had to deal with a couple months ago. You remember that?”

Keith hums, hiking up one shoulder.

“The cooking oil lady. Who threw her baby’s rattle at your head because you told her you couldn’t put canola oil in her engine to make things cheaper.”

Keith snorts. “Oh, that nightmare.”

“Yeah!” Lance says, muffled by the four slices of bell pepper he’s shoved in his mouth at once. Keith stares flatly at him and smacks his hand, but the corner of his mouth twitches, and he walks over to the fridge to grab a new pepper without a word of admonishment. Loser.

Lance doesn’t say anything for a moment, following a new, bell-pepper related thought, and startled slightly when Keith clears his throat slightly and prompts, “You met cooking oil lady?”

“Oh yeah! On the trails today. We had to shut down one of them because Selena — remember the red wolf I told you about? The one who sings the loudest in her pack and has the reddest fur? I named her Selena after the singer, yeah, you remember — had her cubs the other day! So she’s super duper extra protective of the whole area, basically, and so is the rest of the pack, so humans going near their area is going to freak them out and that’s not fair to anybody. Hey, did you know red wolves are monogamous? Most wolf species are but red wolves especially show a really strong family unit. It’s really cute, actually, Selena her mate always go on wolf dates and stuff and terrorize the park-goers —”

“Trail,” Keith redirects gently, turning off the burner and scooping their food into two plates. He grabs them both, flicking Lance’s hand away, and sets them at the kitchen island, arranging the plates so they’re sat next to each other instead of across.

“Right, trail,” Lance says. As soon as he sits down and starts to eat, one of Keith’s hands comes to rest on his thigh, palm curving around the inner flesh and fingertips resting gently on the ankle tucked under it. He moves his thumb back and forth slowly, not to instigate, just to touch. Lance leans against him without even thinking about it.

“So. Trial closed. Not even that busy of a trail, honestly. One of the least popular ones. But this lady shows up, stroller in camo and packed to the nines like a fuckin, tactical mom, or something, and starts just hauling ass down the trail, breezing past the closed sign. And I’m like.” He points his fork in Keith’s direction, so he can Get The Vibe. His boyfriend smiles into his stir fry. “I mean, I didn’t want to be the one to handle her. But no one else did, either, and let me tell you she was hauling fucking ass down that trail, and I didn’t want her to actually disturb Selena or anything, so I had be like ma’am. Please. The sign very clearly says closed. And she ignored me, so I just stopped in front of her, and then she started screaming at me! All about how she has been to this trail all the time and she’s a loyal park-goer and it’s a public park, as if that means anything. I seriously thought she was never going to stop.”

He hears the irony as soon as he says it. I thought she was never going to stop. He’s like a wind-up toy. He manages to stop himself from tensing, barely, diverting into something like a twitch. He’s aware suddenly that he has been talking nonstop from essentially the second he walked in the front door and was delighted to find Keith’s boots already at the door, hear the quiet clanking of him in the kitchen. He can’t even remember if he’d bothered saying hello, or if he’d just launched right into whatever word salad was on his mind. God, did he even start with a full sentence? He does that sometimes, he just starts from the middle of his own thoughts like anyone would have any idea what he’s talking about, he’s honestly just kind of obsessed with the sound of his own voice, he thinks, he must be, because he just never stops, does he —

“I hope I die first.”

Lance blinks. He looks over at his boyfriend, wondering if he spaced out long enough that his brain just made something the fuck up to get him back on track (wouldn’t be the first time).

“…Pardon?”

Keith continues to eat, unbothered, casual. He’s not even feigning casualness, either — he tends to half-lid his eyes when he’s pretending something doesn’t bother him. He’s completely at ease, right now, hand still warm and heavy on Lance’s thigh.

“Sometimes I just think about how there’s a possibility that you’ll die before me, I guess.” He turns to Lance, finally, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. That was emo. I just…you go silent, sometimes, and I’m worried I’ll have to miss every time you spoke.”

Lance doesn’t know what to say. For once, his revving engines are completely silent. He sits there, frozen, staring almost blankly at his plate. Keith is humming quietly to himself, something ridiculous and made-up. They’re still in each other’s spaces, the two of them, and so Lance knows Keith feels it when he shudders, slightly, as a lump grows in his throat, as he desperately blinks away the tears in his eyes.

Keith turns his head slightly to press a kiss to Lance’s hair. He holds his face there, lips pressed to Lance’s skin, soft exhales blowing strands of Lance’s curls.

“What’s wrong, Motormouth?” Keith murmurs. The concern is evident in his voice, and maybe some panic, too, like he’s worried he’s the reason Lance is upset.

Lance smiles. A tear escapes from the corner of his eye an burns a trail down his cheek. He wipes it, quickly, swiping a hand across his face before resting it on the hand that Keith still holds on his leg. Keith flips his hand palm-side up so he can interlock their fingers together. If he feels the wetness of the wiped tears, he doesn’t say anything, only their squeezes their hands together three times in quick succession.

There is no mistaking the fondness bleeding from Keith’s voice. There is no mistaking amusement for endearment, here.

Lance can be annoying. He knows he can. And he no doubt has moments where he annoys Keith, even. But he’s not seven, anymore. He knows to watch for the signs. And for whatever he can’t catch — he’ll just have to trust.

“Nothing,” he whispers, turning his head to catch Keith’s mouth against his. “It’s just nice to…know, I guess, that you love me.”

Keith hums, kissing back, reaching his free hand up to curl around Lance’s cheek, holding him gently. “Good. Don’t forget.”

———

based on this post

[parcai]

leash the lightning + wind.

thinking abt thalia tied to zeus, and jason to beryl. congrats to the new cast 🥳 lance reddick's voice is!!!

[zabberzim]

What if they’d had met when they were young ?

[klaissance]

I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY:

lance walks around singing and dancing lowkey constantly and he unironically enjoys “yes, and?” so he’ll like strut around bopping and then just be shouting YES, AND

and everybody else gets to play the “what is the most ridiculous thing we can get lance to yes and” game

so pidge and hunk (and he’s not proud of it but shiro sometimes too) will just like,,, ask yes or no questions at lance across the room and he can’t hear them cause he’s too busy jamming head empty only ariana, and if they time it right it’s really excellent

reigning champ of the game so far is the time hunk sighed and was like “lance,,, do you wish keith would just kiss you on the mouth already” and lance threw his head back and was like “YES! AND! SAY THAT SHIT WITH YOUR CHEST!! AND!!!”

thats it thank you for coming to my ted talk

[graniteknight]

Why not be introduced to the bold brave nexo knights of knighton! we have:

The potential stoner, (unclear 50/50 whether this is the case but he gives major stoner vibes)

The one who it’s a debate whether he is actually serious about his role as a knight.

The only one trustworthy of being in a kitchen, the others will make it explode.

The only sane member of the team who is the definition of major team leader. (because she’s the only one with a capable braincell)

Tne ACTUAL team leader, who is a tad bit mentally traumatised and also a possible stone monster? (it depends)

Please please PLEASE keep this one away from any sort of magical books, clouds or things that are a possible threat.

[molliemoo3]

At what point is it just straight up harassment and bullying????

[cheemken]

Diantha: so this is the guy I like, thoughts?

Her friends: and prayers, girl what the fuck—

[seldomscilence16]

Alright so this all started with a lego set at work, turned into a long ass intro, then its 11 on Christmas Eve and I decide to just do the Christmas snippet and finish the rest/context later.

So please ignore spelling 😬 and Happy Holidays all! Also TW for a bit of Racism at one point, theres a bullying scene but a short one. "Well if it isnt..." is where it starts and "there a problem here." Is where it ends.

Hope you enjoy this snippet! Stay safe everyone and thank @autisticlancemcclain for the Bug boy Lance!

...

Lance could kick himself.

He knows better than this. He knows what happens, he knows that once they get what they want, they'll leave.

And yet, here he is, spending hard earned money, on four classmates. Sure he'd saved them for last, focusing on his families gifts first and foremost- its the main reason he got the job, part going to saving for emergencies, the rest to spend on Christmas- but he was doing the thing he'd sworn off.

No people. People hurt and use and lie and tease. Lance was supposed to he strong until college, his fresh start, but then these four had to go and be NICE and do their part and- yeah the bar was really low...

"This isnt going to end well." He mumbles, the hustle and bustle of the mall overwhelming with holiday traffic and leaving him worn out before he even enters an actual store.

He scans aisle after aisle, berating himself for putting so much thought into something he wasnt even supposed to be doing. His eye catches something green and he comes to a halt. Its legos, one of those collectors sets that costs an arm and a leg, but Lance hadn't even known Lego did THIS.

'The insect collection'.

"Blue Morpho Butterfly, Hercules Beetle, and a Chinese Mantis." He breathes in awe, eyes scanning every detail.

"Well if it isnt Mclame."

His head snaps up, a group of classmates before him, most of which are his very reason for his No People rule.

"Still a freak about bugs I see, surprised you havent married one yet- maybe even they dont want you!" He snorts when he laughs, a strange noise from the back of his throat that remind Lance of a Donkey or Pig.

"Not like he could even afford it, if you want you can have your mom come clean my house." One girl taunts from the back, Lances blood boiling at the blatent racist remark despite Lance's CUBAN heritage.

"If you do have money to spare you should buy me lunch instead, for having to be in your vecinity for this long." Another boy plugs his nose, like he showers every day. Lance sits behind him in English, and he does not.

"There a problem here kids?" A man in the mall security uniform eyes them all carefully, eyes giving Lance a once over that makes him uncomfortable.

"No sir." He replies polity, deciding another store may hold better finding anyway- at least better company.

....

Lance's budget was low to begin with, but eventually he comes up with ideas for the four.

It starts with Hunks treats. The things that get them through their library sessions when the projects blur. And Lances job allows him access to plenty of people who would love to share things with anyone who will listen. So painstakingly, Lance translates recipes to paper as the older generations he enteracts with give him a little baking show.

Shiro's, surprisingly, comes next. A single comment about how much he hates ruined shirt sleeves, as they get caught on his prosthetic port. Its winter, and tank tops simply wont do, so Lance finds himself knitting in his spare time. Doing hours of research to see what possibilities will be the most comfortable, with of course a very lame joke on the front.

Pidge's was an accident. Lance's bike- sabataged it would seem- leaves him crashing off path in a ditch on his way home from work. He ends up limping his way through thick folliage, dragging a broken bike in the late hours of the afternoon. The little squeak is almost ignored, the second one however, well its Lance.

The little thing is a puffball, Lance was almost sure it was a toupé, until it moved and blinked at him. He thinks its a dog, no idea what kind, but its tiny and fluffy and following him home. Lance has three allergic family members, but Pidge mentioned a family dog who had sadly passed away and nearly broke Lances heart. The green eyes tell him this little thing will be a lovely match.

Keith is the hardest. Lance honestly almost buys a knife, because the guy is a conspiracy theorist and gets into way too much trouble not to have a few knives on him. But it doesnt seem right.

But Lance see's how often he doodles.

Freakin gorgeous doodles.

Then he finds the brand 'Keff Artistry' and its too close to 'Keef' for Lance to pass up.

...

He almost tells his family to simply lock him up and burn the gifts, but then they'd be worried and he's trying to avoid that thank you, hes been doing an excellent job masking his turmoil thus far.

So, the day before Christmas Eve, Lance gathers his gifts in trembling hands, and slips out of the house unseen. If this turns into a mess, he'll deal with it himself this time. He has to grow up eventually, he cant keep crying about bullies to his family, its not a big deal anyway.

"What the heck happened to your face!?" Pidge's incredulous tone has everyone eyes snapping towards said face.

"Its nothing, bike accident." Lance shrugs it off, as he'd done when he'd come home with it, he had too little proof anyway. Anyone could have carved 'McLame' into the side of it.

"Accident huh?" Its mumbled by someone, but Lance cant place it and decidedly ignores it anyway.

"I uh... have gifts... for you guys." He changes the subject, directing the attention to the bags he carries.

"For us?" Hunk asks, eyes wide and sparkly, "You know you didnt have to buddy."

Well, supposedly.

"Yeah, its not much, but uh, here." He hands them out carefully, extra careful with Pidge's.

"Guess its a good thing we brought ours to you then." Shiro says, pulling a wrapped box from the spare chair.

Lance's eyebrows furrow, staring at the box in confusion, perhaps with a little trepidation,

"You guys got me something?"

"Yeah! We all pitched in!" Pidge grins at him, something she does sparingly- grin that is.

He takes it with clammy hands, still shaking ever so slightly. He holds it to his chest as he watches the others open their bags, watches their faces carefully.

Hunk holds the hand bound book tenderly, eyes shining as he flips through the pages carefully.

Shiro stares in awe at his sweater, a chuckle escaping him as he runs his fingers over the soft material.

Pidge squeaks, as the small dog bumps its head against her face, cold nose sniffing excitedly. She holds the animal close, the dog snuggling up like he always belonged there.

Keith is staring at his gift. The art set held half out of the bag, as if he hadnt been expecting it. He turns wide eyes towards Lance, and the cuban can see the emotions there.

This is one of Lance's favorite parts about giving. When he did good in the eyes of the reciever, when they LIKE what he gave, genuinely. No matter its monetary value.

"Lance, this is amazing." Shiro breaks the silence, turning wide eyes his way, smile big and bright and real.

"I cant imagine how long this took, this is amazing! I havent even heard of some of these!!!" Hunk is tearing up, book hugged to his chest, grinning at Lance like he'd been given a great treasure.

"I cant believe you got me a dog! He's just a little puff!" The excitement is so nice to hear, its practically contageous.

"I... havent recieved something this nice from anyone but family before. Thanks Lance." Keith is downright shy as he admits this little fact about himself, and Lance could cry.

"I'm... really glad you guys like them."

"Now open yours!" Hunk encourages quickly, sitting to watch him intently, practically vibrating.

Lance could almost feel scared, but....

He allows himself a little hope.

He opens the paper gingerly, savoring his first gift from anyone outside of family. A corner is revealed, familiar for some reason, another inch-

Lego Ideas The Insect Collection.

"What-" It comes out choked, shock clear on his face.

Is it a joke? Are they mocking him? It was expensive, theres no way they'd spend that much on a joke right?

"Its the one you wanted right?" Pidge asks, a slight pinch to her brow.

"We only saw you from across the mall, so we didn't know- You're crying oh Gods, whats wrong Buddy-" Shiro Panics, quickly kneeling by the chair Lance had collapsed into.

"I don- Why- I can't- "

"Breathe! Come on-" Hunk exagerates his own, encouraging Lance gently to follow as he chokes on tears and air and spit alike.

"Its not a joke right?" He finally gets out, looking pleadingly to the group, running a reverant hand across the box, "You did this to be nice?" He can hear the vulnurability in his own voice, but he's about a second from breaking completely.

"Yes, yes, of course! All 1,111 pieces are inside!" Shiro assures quickly, rubbing a soothing hand over his shoulder and arm.

It gets a wet chuckle from Lance, as he pulls the box to his chest once more.

"No ones... thank you so much, I can't... can't tell you how much this means." He wipe at his face, "I'll repay you, I promise-"

"Hey, its a gift Lance." Keith says, voice softer than ever, "We wanted to get it for you."

"Merry Christmas Lance."

"Merry Christmas."

[pidges-lost-robot]

I just love the idea of Keith and Lance teaming up to deliberately wear down the tyranny and sanity of one Team Punk, I think it's funny and I think if Hunk and Pidge are gonna occasionally be humbled, it should be by those two

[itscherryterry-again]

yea

[gintamajustaway]

The fandom has gotten really dark since you left.. certain shippers are really aggressive about their ships to the point of bullying. I kno you’ve dealt with stuff like that in the past and you handled it all so well I remember reading some anon asks.. any tips n’tricks?

OOF, WHELP -- not sure I'll be much help given that I have no idea what state the fandom is in. All I can really say is that you're going to find aggressive shippers no matter what fandom you're in. My method to dealing with people like that was to just block them and add them to my blacklist. The only times I ever engaged with them was if they came at me directly (which rarely happened -- the more aggressive they are, the more cowardly they were when it came to confrontation) or if they put a callout post about me directly in the main fandom tag. I always clapped back at those people just because like lol if you've got a problem with my fics or my decision to delete them all, okay cool, I don't care, but doing stuff like putting a long-winded complaint post in the main tag is so childish and stupid.

The best advice I think I can give for this is to just not care LOL I sure as hell never did and still don't. Never will! Shipping is supposed to be fun and the people who actively try and take that fun away from others are struggling with issues outside of fandom, but shipping is their outlet so that's where their aggression manifests. Happy people don't care about drama over fictional characters, so go be a happy person! Utilize that block option and live your best life!

[livefinn]

i guess this is it

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Isaac: *being mean to Victor for no good reason*

Wren: Hey, what are you doing?! Stop it, now!

Bella: Such rudeness was unnecessary. What's the point of this?

Myra: Isaac, you're not as heartless as you want to appear, I know you have a good heart...

Rain: *a stern look* Only cowards bully the helpless.

Shiro: If you don't want to communicate, just say so, why call names?

May: And why am I not surprised that he would be so tactless? You can't stop being a bitch for one day, huh?

Ziana: T-That was very rude of you, Mr. Isaac!

Elisa: How d a r e you say that to Victor!?

Julian: *with a steel voice* Is it so hard to be patient with each other? There's no need to take your negativity out on others.

Skylar: And you think this is the behavior of an adventurer? You should be ashamed of yourself!

Bo: *with a magical flame in hands* You done did it now, bitch.

Hestia: *Transforms into a dragon form, ready to vaporize Isaac*

Isaac: *realizes his fatal mistake*

Marley: Phah, you're screwed, my friend. Like, completely fucked.

[honeyflower-bellybower]

so everyone knows Sokka from atla and Lance from vld are the same person in different fonts but, there is one difference.

Sokka pulls all the girls.

Meanwhile people in the vld universe can't freaking see