#I wanna at least type up the AU I have jotted down in my notebook

[raksh-writes]

Tfw I have so much to do, and so much I want to do, but my body hits me with the "is it a migraine? Or am I actually getting sick?" episode of the miserable sunday variation.

Fun :)

[echoghost1]

Dannymay 2021 Day 08: Gravity

Weighed Down By Your Heavy Heart

~This is part 3 of my Role Swap AU~

Summary: Danny struggles to deal with the sudden loss of his father so his sister suggests he visit the school counselor, Penelope Spectra.

Word Count: 2,266

TW: Self Harm, Suicide Attempt, Bad Therapy

Guys the prompt is Gravity and my brain said "let's make it heavy"

If you're okay with all that...

you can read it on AO3 or down below the cut

Danny hadn’t said a word to anyone in days. How could he? What was there to say?

His dad was dead. Murdered. And he hadn’t been able to help. He had been completely useless as that monster stole his father away.

Of course, no one knew what really happened. The police filed it as an accident. The people at the reunion whispered that it was suicide.

Danny knew better.

But it didn’t matter what he knew. There wasn’t anything to do.

So he didn’t say anything. Not to the cops. Not to his mother. Not to the doctors that said they just wanted to help him.

Vlad sent his gear back a week after the funeral.

Danny hunted the ghosts that plagued his town and he didn’t say anything to them either.

After almost a month of silence, his friends stopped coming around. Good. The fewer people he had to worry about the better.

The only good thing that came out of what happened was that Dash finally stopped bothering him. Who knew the guy had rules about picking on orphans, or half orphaned anyway.

Or maybe the silent treatment was too much. Maybe the jerk actually enjoyed it when Danny mouthed off?

It didn’t matter.

He was done wasting words.

================================================

It was Jazz that had suggested it. She said it was time to focus on healing now, so she signed him up to talk to the school counselor.

He didn’t want to go, but that look she gave him when she asked him to at least give it a try wasn’t one he wanted to see again.

So he went. For her.

“So Danny. I’ve heard you’ve become a man of few words lately. Did you want to talk about it?” Ms. Spectra said with her sickeningly sweet voice. Then she laughed, “Oh silly me, I guess you wouldn’t want to talk about it now would you?”

He just rolled his eyes and slouched in his seat.

He said he’d give it a try but if she was just going to make fun of him he wasn’t going to bother listening.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear,” she stood up from behind her desk and easily made her way around it. She leaned against the corner of the desk and casually crossed her ankles, “Have you tried journaling?”

He shook his head and kept his gaze from lingering on her long bare legs. How was she able to get away with wearing a skirt that short? Didn’t she know what teenage boys were like? Heck girls too! The dress code was for the staff too right?

“Sometimes words come out easier when you write them down. Maybe if you jot them down, all the thoughts flying around in that head of yours will settle.”

Would writing help? He never really thought about it before. It would be nice if his brain could shut up long enough for him to actually get some sleep.

He looked back at her but wasn’t sure how to show he was willing to try.

She must have been pretty smart because she smiled and went to fetch a blank journal for him to use.

“Now I want you to carry this with you wherever you go. Anytime those thoughts of yours get too loud, you write it down. Anything and everything. Don’t worry about what they are. This is just for you.”

He took the book and wondered if maybe everything in the world wasn’t awful after all.

================================================

He’d been seeing Ms. Spectra for a week now and he had already used up most of the notebook she had given him.

“So how’s the writing going?” she asked as he sat down.

“Okay,” he said softly as he traced the edges of the pages with his fingertips.

“Oh and we’re talking today? That sure is an improvement!”

“Yeah,” he hated that his voice cracked on such a simple little word.

She frowned, “Don’t tell me you’ve got a stutter now?”

“No,” he stammered then realized what he did and winced. He didn’t have a stutter. His voice just wasn’t used to talking.

“Oh well, maybe you’re voice is still a little weak from misuse.”

He relaxed, happy that she understood.

“Unless that’s just what you’re telling yourself?”

“Wait, what?”

That wasn’t right. He didn’t have a stutter. He never did before!

Well unless he was nervous, but he wasn’t nervous now.

Was he?

“Don’t worry about it dear, I can help you fix that little issue too.”

He wasn’t sure he liked how she worded that.

She stood up abruptly and walked around the desk and before he could stop her, she snatched the notebook off his lap.

“Hey!” he tried to take it back but she just kept walking until she was out of his reach.

She started to flip through the pages, “Oh you’ve got some dark stuff in here, Danny.”

She said it was private! Why was she reading it? She never said she was going to read it! God, he had written a lot of terrible things in there.

“So many violent things.” she flipped through more pages. Violated more of his privacy. “I love this drawing.” she turned the book so he could see and he immediately looked away.

It was a scribbled sketch of him in his hunter gear ripping a ghost apart with his bare hands. He’d been having a bad day when he drew that.

She walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Aw what’s the matter? Shy?”

“I didn’t know you were going to look at that.”

“Didn’t I tell you?” she tucked the book under her arm and tapped her lip in thought, “I could have sworn I told you I was going to review this at the end of the week.”

“No, you didn’t.” he wouldn’t have written most of what was in there if he knew that.

“No, I know I did. You must have just forgotten. That’s okay.” she idly flipped through the book again before she turned her attention back to him, “So anything in there you want to talk about?”

He shook his head. He didn’t feel like talking anymore.

================================================

Another week passed and he couldn’t tell if he was getting better or worse. He started talking again, but it was mostly just to yell.

He was just so angry and he didn’t know what to do with it all.

He was so miserable that even the air felt too heavy. It filled his lungs like lead and he constantly felt like he was drowning.

He just wanted it to stop.

“Danny, you haven’t been writing as much in your journal. Why is that?”

He shrugged but didn’t even bother to say anything.

“You’re not trying to hide things from me, are you?”

He kept his eyes fixed on the crack near the floor.

“You know you’re secrets are safe with me, right?”

He shoved his hands deeper into his hoodie.

“Because if I wanted to tell on you, I would have done it by now.”

That wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“I have a question for you, and I need you to answer honestly, okay?”

He really wasn’t in the mood to talk today. Couldn’t she just let him leave?

“Danny,” she said in a tone that almost sounded like a warning.

He looked up but didn’t say anything. If she wanted to talk then she could just go ahead.

“Have you ever hurt yourself?”

That was an odd question.

His confusion must have been obvious because she smiled before clarifying, “I meant on purpose. Have you ever hurt yourself on purpose?”

He shook his head. Of course he’d never hurt himself on purpose. Why would she ask him that?

“You’re not lying to me are you Danny?”

He shook his head with more determination. She had to know he wasn’t doing that. Sure he might be a little reckless when he hunts, but she didn’t need to know about that. Besides, that’s not what she asked about.

“Really?” she tilted her head to the sided curiously, “Despite all the pain you’re in? Don’t you want to make it stop?”

Of course, he wanted it to stop. “Why would I hurt myself if I’m already hurting?”

“Because the brain is an easy thing to fool. You can’t feel two types of pain at the same time. So if you, for example,” she opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a long pair of scissors, “we’re having a day so bad that it hurt just to breathe,” she stood up and slowly made her way over to him, “that it felt like your lungs were filling up with molten hot lead,” she grabbed him by the left wrist and pushed his sleeve up to the crook of his elbow, “that it felt like you’re head was going to explode with all those dark horrible thoughts of yours”, she opened the scissors all the way and pressed the blade against his bare arm, “you could just cut it out!”

The blade sliced through his skin much easier than he would have imagined. The sharp sting as the skin tore and the blood pooled to the surface was so sudden all he could do was gasp.

“See what I mean?” she carefully tucked the scissors into his waiting right hand, her slender finger just as cold as the blade. “You want to give it a go?”

She guided his hand back to his bleeding arm and placed the blade parallel to the first cut, “just think about the things that hurt you, and then slice along the dotted line.”

Danny’s hands shook. Did he really want to do this? Was this really the best way?

It had to be, right? She wouldn’t make him do this if it didn’t help. She was a professional.

“Just remember Danny, you only ever want to cross the street” she lightly scratched her nail across this arm the same way the scissors were aimed, “But never go down the lane.” she scratched a little hard down the length of his arm all the way down to his wrist. “You’d bleed out too fast for anyone to help you.” she pet his cheek, “if you did that you’d die. And you don’t want to die, right?”

He blinked and for a moment he wasn’t sure.

“Danny,” she warned.

He looked up when she called but kept quiet.

“You don’t want to die. You’re no good to me dead.”

“No good?”

“No.” she sat on the edge of her desk, “I want you to repeat after me, okay?”

He nodded slowly. He could still feel the cold metal against his arm.

“I,” she started.

“I,” he repeated and he focused on how it bit into his fingers.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t”, He gripped it a little tighter.

“Want.”

“Want,” Just to feel something.

“To die.”

“To die.”

“Now again. From the top.”

“I don’t wanna die.” he relaxed his grip on the blade.

“Again.”

“I don’t want to die.” he pushed it into his arm instead.

“Again.”

“I don’t want to die.” he bit his lip to keep from whimpering.

“Cut yourself.”

And he did.

“Again.”

He did.

Over and over until all he could see was the color red.

His arm.

Her dress.

Her smile.

Why was she always smiling?

She lifted his head up with just one of her long red manicured nails, “I think that’s enough for one day, don’t you?”

He heard a thump and realized he dropped the scissors. He was surprised he had been able to hold on to them for as long as he did considering how wet they were.

She cleaned and dressed his wounds chatting all the while.

She was always so happy. He wondered if he’d ever be happy again.

“Alright, now Bertrand has your new clothes so go ahead and use the closet over there to get dressed.

“Clothes?” he turned to see that, yes he was there and he was holding a perfectly folded outfit that looked suspiciously similar to something he owned but thought he had lost a while ago.

“Well you can’t go walking around the school looking like that?” she said pointing down to his outfit like it personally offended her.

He followed her gesture and saw that there was a lot of blood there.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He hadn’t meant to bleed so much.

“Oh it’s fine.” she waved him off, “Now get dress. You do have class in less than ten minutes.”

“Class?” His head felt so fuzzy like it was full of static. He wasn’t sure he would do very well in class now, but what else was he going to do. “Okay.”

“That’s a good boy.” she placed a gentle hand on his cheek and he didn’t resist leaning into it. “Perfectly scrumptious.”

================================================

It was Spirit Week when everything fell apart again.

First, Valerie noticed his scars after he had to roll up his sleeves during science class. She hadn’t said anything, but he caught her staring.

Second, the ghost girl revealed that Spectra was actually a ghost that fed off of people’s misery. Well that certainly explained a lot.

And he hated it.

Third, after finding out he was a favored snack to a terrible demon woman, he didn’t exactly take the news well. In fact, he took it so poorly he decided to break his razor and take a nice warm bath with the blade.

The doctor said he was lucky his sister found him when she did.

He wasn’t so sure about that just yet.

[tokyoteddywolf]

An Armful Of Feelings, A Shance One-Shot

*wheezes* okay, this grew way over what i originally planned, but i also kind of like how it turned out, so here, have a Shance one shot with a lot of fluff, a splash of angst, and a bit of a surprise. :)

keep in mind: Lance is 22, Shiro is 26, Pidge is 20, Hunk is 22, and Keith is 23.

Enjoy! (This is 5,000+ words that got way out of hand....)

Prompt: “it seems we’re the only two people in this class that actually know what the fuck is going on want to team up for this project and ruin everybody’s lives” au

Lance yawned as the teacher droned on and on about some cellular structure, and sleepily scribbled down the notes. Even if he was twenty two, college could still make you feel like you were back in middle school. He took this Human Based Technology class mainly because he was a top student when it came to human anatomy and specialized in nerves and muscles, and planned to go into neurology. He figured it would be an easy class to pass, and boy was he right. His friend Pidge, who was an actual certified genius, flicked a small paper ball at him to get his attention. He looked over at her and snorted at the dead look on her face. Yup, she was bored too.

“Alright class! As you know, the Fall Semester is ending soon in a little over a month. Therefore, your final assignments shall be given out today so that you may have the entire month to work on your projects.” Lance perked up at this information. Final assignment? A month? Why would they need a month to work on a project? “The reason you have the rest of the semester to work on this, is because it is a contest as well. You must take some form of human based technology and either produce a study on it or improve it so as to better improve the lives of those who use it. If you decide to do a study paper, you are excused from the contest as everything is graded based on presentation. If you decide to improve the technology you've decided on, you must bring a model, blueprints, a speech on how it works, and a demonstration or slide. You may work in pairs for this project, and everything is due before the final day of class.”

Lance and Pidge slowly turned to each other and grinned like a pair of wicked Cheshire Cats. “Wanna team up since we're the only ones who know anything in this class?” Pidge asked, smirking. Lance's face matched her own. “Fuck yes, let's wreck these losers.” He purred, the two friends chuckling evilly as the rest of the class realized that there was no way in hell they would beat these two at their best subject.

“So, what should we try first? Wheelchairs? We could attempt hover technology...” Pidge said, idly nibbling the end of her pencil as she lay on her bed with a notepad in front of her, Lance eagle spread on the floor staring at the ceiling. “Nah, hover technology hasn't been researched enough yet, and people are already working on improving it.” The Cuban male huffed, waving his hand in dismissal. Pidge hummed thoughtfully, wracking her brain for any more ideas, and blinked as her phone dinged and lit up with a notification.

She unlocked her phone and checked the message, noting that it was from her brother's friend Shiro. Shiro went to the same college as her and Lance, actually. He was working on a Masters degree in veterinary practice after his break in the Military. He was four years older than Lance, six older than her. She glanced over to her bored meme loving pal, smirking slightly. Lance and Shiro actually knew each other through Shiro's younger brother Keith, though Shiro hadn't really talked with Lance much, and Lance had the biggest fucking crush on the Japanese-American she'd ever seen. It was admittedly kind of cute yet frustrating because when Lance pines, he pines hard.

Sighing, she read the message.

Absolutely Shiro-Done With Life

hey pidge my arm is acting up again, can you come over to take a look at it real quick?

Pidgeotto The Great

yeah sure give me a while tho im busy thinking of a project to work on for a class.

Absolutely Shiro-Done With Life

okay thanks. :)

Pidgeotto The Great

ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Absolutely Shiro-Done With Life

why are you like this

Pidge laughed and shook her head, grinning. Lance sat up. “What's so funny?” He asked, raising a perfect eyebrow. Pidge shrugged. “Just Shiro. He needs some help with his prosthetic. It's probably the inner joints again, probably just flexed something wrong and the attachment slipped.” She explained, blinking at the sudden thoughtful look on Lance's face. “I know that look. What idea do you have this time?” She asked, sitting up properly as Lance got to his feet and grabbed the notepad and pencil, scribbling something down and mumbling to himself.

Pidge knew better than to interrupt him while he was in Thinking Mode, so she settled against the wall lining her bed and watched him pace back and forth while he jotted down notes and was muttering something that sounded like calculations. When he finally turned to Pidge, she blinked in surprise as he suddenly shoved the notepad into her lap. “We can do this for the project! It's perfect!” Lance chirped as his small genius friend read over the notes with a critical eye. A huge grin split her face as she looked from the notepad to her beaming pal. “Okay, but if we do this, we're gonna have to ask Shiro for help. You gonna be able to control your awkward crush self around him enough to get any work done?” She teased, noting how he got a little red cheeked and shuffled in place.

“Yeah, as long as I focus on the project and not Shiro himself...” Lance explained, still a little flustered. “I'll give him a quick text and have him come over so we can chat about this in person!” Pidge cheered, picking up her phone and quickly typing out a message to the source of the project's idea.

Pidgeotto The Great

actually, do u think u can come over to my dorm real quick??? I need to talk to you about smth and id rather do it in person than over the phone. I'll fix ur arm while ur here, since I keep my tools with me.

Absolutely Shiro-Done With Life

Yeah, sure, I can do that :) What exactly do you want to talk about?

Pidgeotto The Great

u'll see when you get here, its nothing bad. I have smth to show you as well, so hurry up and get ur ass over here!

Absolutely Shiro-Done With Life

Language, Katie. But sure, i'll be there in a few minutes.

Pidgeotto The Great

ur not my dad (=^=) but yeah see you soon!

Lance was the one to open the door and let Shiro in, since Pidge was busy working on the blueprints Lance had roughly sketched out. “Hey Shiro! Glad you got here so fast, me and Pidge really need your help on this.” The skinny man said, grinning and thanking everything holy that he'd taken all those drama and acting classes back in high school, appearing as his normal, aloof self while Shiro smiled back. “Hey, been a while since we've talked, huh? So, what do you two want to talk to me about?” Shiro asked as Lance let him inside, shutting the door behind him and moving over to where Pidge was working at her desk.

Pidge looked up at the sound of Shiro's voice and grinned. “Well, you know how me and Lance have that Human Based Technology class? There's a big project we have to do, and me and Lance got to team up for it!” The small girl explained cheerfully, though the light malice in her smile had Shiro shuddering a little. Pidge had no mercy in competitions, she was a terrifying opponent in a battle of technology and wills. “And I'm supposed to help you how?” Shiro asked with a raised eyebrow, curious.

“Well, we're supposed to take a human based technology and improve it further, so Lance and I were thinking of doing prosthetics and wanted to ask you if you'd let us modify your arm!” Pidge declared, sitting up and pushing her glasses back into place. Shiro blinked, startled, looking over to Lance, who nodded, then focused back on Pidge. “You… want to make me a new arm?” he asked, a little confused and a slight bit apprehensive. His current prosthetic wasn't all that advanced, and often ached during cold weather or the joints would stick and refuse to bend, and would twinge painfully at the connections sometimes. Lance jumped into the conversation to explain. “No, not a new arm, a better arm, one that should work like it was your old flesh one instead of metal, at least according to my calculations.”

Pidge nodded enthusiastically, and picked up the notebook to show him the detailed layout of the arm Lance had sketched, complicated words and numbers scribbled next to the diagram. Shiro scanned the page, eyebrow raising higher and higher until he looked at both students with a conflicted expression on his face. “If I agree to this, what exactly do you need me to do?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. Pidge motioned to Lance.

“Well, all we'd need at first are measurements. Once the prototype is finished, we'd test how the cuff attachment fits on you, then make sure it was comfortable before connecting it to the actual prosthetic. Once everything is done and all the tests are finished, we'd have to take off your old prosthetic to put the new one on. The new arm is supposed to use extremely tiny needles to enter your, ah, stump, and connect to the proper nerves and muscles like how it is for a flesh arm, and connects to your neural pathways so that the electric impulses you use to move your body are used by the prosthetic as well. Basically giving you an arm you use with your brain rather than your muscles.” Lance explained in all seriousness, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Of course, you don't have to if you don't want to. We can always just do a model and some blueprints and just explain how it works...” He mumbled, scuffing at the carpet with a sock covered foot. Shiro hummed thoughtfully, turning the idea over in his mind for a few minutes.

“Pleeeeaaaaseee Shiro?” Pidge whined, turning big brown puppy eyes to the six-years-her-senior man. “You'd let me and Lance build you a new arm, right? I am the little sister of your best friend after all~!” Shiro wavered, before glancing over to Lance and immediately regretting it as the Cuban male also turned the pleading pout on him, big blue eyes and trembling lips and oh god dammit he was going to agree to this one way or another wasn't he?

Shiro sighed. “Alright then, I'll let you do this. But you better go all out. Anything less than an A and I'm calling Matt.” Pidge whooped and Lance grinned before yelping as he was yanked into a group hug by the excited girl, Shiro getting dragged in and pressing against Lance's side and oh boy he hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt- “Thank you thank you thank you Shiro!!! Me and Lance are gonna build you the best fucking arm this side of the moon!” Pidge declared, arms around both of her taller friends. Shiro laughed and contributed to the group hug, a quick squeeze, before pulling back. Lance missed the heat almost instantly.

“Come back over tomorrow and we should have some blueprint outlines done. I'll take your arm measurements then. For now, let me take a look at your current prosthetic. You said it was acting up, right?”

Lance sat on the bed, fighting down a blush and distracted himself with scribbling out more detailed sketches of the new prosthetic, listening to Pidge and Shiro chat as she fixed up his arm.

A week later, Lance hissed in pain as a piece of the metal arm shell he was working on slipped and cut his palm. Pulling back, he shook his hand, trying to work off the sharp throbbing pain. “Lance, are you okay?” Shiro asked from where Pidge was examining his arm again, the joints having been sticking a lot more than usual recently. “Just peachy. The metal doesn't want to work with me today.” Lance groaned, scrutinizing the blood welling up from the cut. It wasn't very deep, but not shallow enough that he wouldn't bleed.

Concerned, Shiro got up, moved over and took his hand to take a look, not noticing the sudden flush on Lance's cheeks as he clicked his tongue in worry. “That's going to need a bandage for sure… Hey Pidge, where are the bandages?” Shiro asked, turning to where Pidge was watching the exchange with amusement. “Desk drawer, third from the top.” She replied, and Shiro dragged Lance over to sit in Pidge's green swivel chair, rummaging around in the mentioned drawer and pulling out a box of large band-aids, the kind you use for knee scrapes.

“Here, let me see.” The larger man ordered, and Lance swallowed thickly before holding his bloody hand out, palm up. “Here, use this to wipe up the blood before he drips on my floor.” Pidge called, tossing an old towel over to Shiro, who caught it and started cleaning away the red liquid before unwrapping and carefully pressing the band-aid on. Lance was 90% sure his heart was about to jump out of his throat. “There, is that better?” Shiro asked, and released Lance's hand. The Cuban male laughed awkwardly and stepped back to breathe. “Uh, yeah, it does feel better. Thanks, Shiro.” He admitted with a wry grin, Shiro smiling back in relief.

“Okay, tender bro moment over, Shiro get your ass back over here so I can finish up adjusting that joint.” Pidge drawled lazily from her spot on the bed, amused when both men jumped, startled, like they'd forgotten she was there. “Ah, right. Sorry.” Shiro muttered, before moving away to go sit next to Pidge and her array of tools. Lance cleared his throat nervously before going back to working on the model prosthetic he was attempting to build.

To be honest with himself, that was probably the closest he'd ever gotten to holding Shiro's hand…

“No no, Lance, the blue wire connects to this finger, not that one.” Hunk directed his best friend gently, as Lance was working on the hand part of the prosthetic back at his own dorm. It had already been two weeks since the whole bandage incident, and Lance's crush had started to spiral out of control the more time he spent with the older man. Ever since then it just seemed to get worse and Lance had no idea how to fix it. Small encouraging comments as he worked on the wiring, smiles and soft looks, they'd even started trading stories on their families. (Lance had so much blackmail on Keith now, it made even Pidge impressed. And she was the Queen of blackmail.)

Sure Lance was known as the campus flirt, but he never really succeeded in any of his endeavors. He'd dated before, but it's not like he ever had to deal with a crush this bad, and he really didn't want to mess up the current dynamic he shared with Shiro, so confessing was a no go. Sighing, he set the tangled up mess of fingers and wires down and groaned into his hands.

Hunk, his roommate, best friend and mechanical genius, raised an eyebrow. “You doin' okay buddy? If it's too confusing I can always take a look for you...” He asked, concerned. Lance huffed out a short laugh. “No, it's not that. I'm just having some… problems with my feelings lately, that's all.” Hunk made a soft, drawn out 'oh' sound and smiled sympathetically, patting Lance on the back.

“Ah, I see, you're crushing hard on someone again. Still Shiro or do you have your eye on someone new?” Lance sighed. “Nope, still stuck on Shiro… and now that we're doing this whole new prosthetic thing, we keep spending more time with each other and it's doing bad things to my heart, Hunk! I don't know how many more looks or praises I can take from the guy before my heart decides to give up and die in my throat! I'm dying from love, dude!” he whined, slumping against his pal. Hunk chuckled and ruffled his roommate's hair affectionately.

“You'll live, buddy. Remember how bad I was with Shay before I told her how I felt?” Lance snorted. “Yeah, I remember. You kept baking foods that were a little too salty and binged on chocolate chip cookies. You were afraid of her brother and how he'd react if you tried dating her.” Hunk grinned sheepishly. “Don't get me wrong, he still scares me, but everything ended up just fine once I confessed and I now have the sweetest girlfriend on campus.” “Dude, you and Shay have been the reigning champions of the Cutest Couple title for two years running.” Lance deadpanned, and Hunk laughed. “I think you and Shiro would be cuter than me and Shay, honestly. But, if you're going to confess, you'd better do it in the best way possible.” The engineer said cheerfully. “Oh yeah? How?” Lance grumbled, tilting his head from his pal's shoulder to look at Hunk's smirking face.

“Why, in the most dramatic and Lance-like way possible, of course!”

The two boys didn't stop laughing for hours after that.

“So, exactly how is this supposed to work?” Keith asked the tiny technology expert as she finished adjusting the attachment cuff and corrected the size, looking intrigued by the now mostly formed arm. Pidge sighed.

“Well, this cuff keeps his arm from falling off. All we have to do is slide the inner mechanism parts into the metal casing we made from the mold we made from Shiro's left arm and hand, though we flipped it so it became a right arm and hand, and then we connect it to this cuff that's supposed to fit over Shiro's stump to keep the prosthetic from falling out or disconnecting, which would probably be a little painful. The cuff is designed to hold onto the skin around his arm, tight enough to stay but loose enough to be comfortable and not constricting the blood flow. The arm itself is going to basically use a bunch of tiny, dissolving needles to shoot wires into his body and connect to the proper muscles and nerves you use to move your arm. Everything is going to be secured so that it won't disconnect, and the wires are supposed to also attach to the bone so that tugging on his prosthetic won't make it pop off. The cuff is just an added measure to keep everything from aching, since even though it's lightweight it's still going to ache a little if left hanging for too long. The adjusting nanomachine fabric I added will prevent chafing and will adjust when Shiro flexes or moves his arm. It also covers the scarring, which is an added bonus, since we all know he doesn't like looking at the reminders...” Pidge trailed off, and Keith nodded grimly.

“Yeah… I'm just glad the nightmares have mostly stopped...” Keith muttered, flopping down onto the ground. Shiro had gone to the Military after high school, and had stayed there for a few years before being honorably discharged after losing his arm during his time as a POW. Army life had changed his brother, and Keith was pretty sure most of it was for the worst. Nightmares, PTSD, a lost arm and a changed personality. He wasn't as happy-go-lucky as he used to be, and had lost a few memories too. It took him a long time to go back to college, but Keith was glad he did. He seemed to open up more nowadays, and was much less closed off than before. The young astrology student sighed and tilted his head to look at Pidge with a sudden smirk, and the upside down girl at the desk turned to give him a raised eyebrow look.

“So, how's the plan going?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Pidge laughed. “Stop that you dork. And the plan is working perfectly. It's only a matter of time now~!” The twenty year old woman sang, as her partner in crime gave her a thumbs up. “Soon, my conspiracy theory comrade, soon.” Keith purred sinisterly, and Pidge giggled evilly. “They'll never know what hit them.”

Lance exhaled deeply and rolled his shoulders. Today was the day. The deadline was tomorrow, and they had finally finished building the prosthetic arm and put it through more tests than he'd taken in his junior year of high school. Every single test proved the arm was ready. Now all that was left was actually attaching it to Shiro. He knocked on the door, and when he was let inside, he was faced with Pidge, more serious than he'd ever seen her before. “You ready for this?” The gremlin asked, quirking a brow at him. Lance nodded firmly. “Let's get this show on the road.”

They started setting up everything they needed, like pillows, towels, adjustment tools and double checked the testing checklist they would use once the arm was properly connected to Shiro's body. “Okay, I called Hunk and Keith over as well, because we need to document this and I can't hold a camera while adjusting connections and you can't either since you're the one moving it into place.” Pidge informed him as she prepped the prosthetic for attachment, as Shiro would arrive with Keith. Lance nodded from his spot on the bed, where he was arranging the pillows for Shiro to sit with in order to keep him as still as possible while they put the new arm on.

Sure enough, less than a half hour later, an engineering student, an astrology student and a veterinary student walked through the door like the start to a weird joke with a bad punchline. “You ready for this, Shiro?” Pidge asked as said man settled onto the bed and clutched a pillow with his good arm. “As ready as I'll ever be.” He joked, though it sounded a little strained. “Okay, first things first, we have to take off the old arm. Try not to freak out, okay?” Pidge warned, knowing about his panic attacks and giving fair caution before she tried anything.

Shiro swallowed thickly and nodded. “Don't worry, it's not going to hurt, and I'll stop if it gets too bad.” Pidge soothed before she moved around him to start undoing the latches and connections to his stump. Shiro did really well, at least until she actually pulled off the arm. That's when everything went wrong. Shiro started hyperventilating, eyes darting around frantically and pained noises leaking through his tight-lipped mouth.

“Shiro, calm down, you're okay, it's just me, Pidge, see? I'm not hurting you, you're in my room, and- WOAH!” Pidge tried to calm down the former soldier, but ducked with a short scream when Shiro lashed out at her. Good thing nobody was in the dorms at this time of day. Lance was thankful for the soundproof walls as Shiro panicked through his flashback, the older man wheezing for the people he couldn't see to leave his arm alone.

“Shiro! Snap out of it! You aren't in the enemy camp, you're safe, it's okay!” Keith yelped, attempting to hold down his big brother, and ultimately getting hurled across the room. Hunk stepped in and managed to hook his arms around Shiro's shoulders to restrain him, but his legs still flailed and kicked frantically, and Lance was terrified that he was going to hurt himself like this. So he did a stupid, very Lance thing and stepped closer to the writhing, screeching man, ignoring the sharp flash of pain across his arm when nails sliced into them, and carefully put his hands on Shiro's cheeks to force him to look into ocean blue eyes. Hunk tightened his grip on the man.

Shiro panted and wheezed, chest heaving, his knee drove itself into Lance's gut but Lance was more durable than he looked, so he toughed it out and spoke as calmly as he could. “Shiro, you have to snap out of it, buddy. You are just fine, nobody here is taking your arm. You're okay. It's not real. Look at me, because I am real and whatever you're seeing isn't. Just, focus on me, okay?” He asked, though his stomach ached and was probably gonna bruise and his heart was pounding like crazy. Shiro slowly started to calm down, silver eyes unclouded and looking at him, and Lance could hear the background sound of Pidge helping Keith up.

Less than twenty minutes later had Lance sitting next to a prosthetic-less Shiro, rubbing small circles into his back as his crush quietly sipped a glass of water. Pidge was doing a minor repair to the new prosthetic, since it had gotten knocked over in the struggle, so they had a little while to breathe. Shiro cleared his throat gently. “I uh, I'm sorry for freaking out like that… you were all just trying to help...” He murmured, subdued and solemn.

Lance laughed lightly. “Nah, man, it's okay. I've had worse from my siblings. Plus, we knew you might freak, going in. Nobody blames you for having the reaction you did, it's only natural after what happened to you back then… But, now everything is okay again, and once Pidge finishes up you'll have a new arm!” He reassured, smiling. Shiro huffed, mouth twitching up in a faint smile.

Keith and Hunk were currently in the dorm kitchen working on getting some food after the whole fiasco, so it was just Lance, Shiro and Pidge in the room for now. Pidge piped up from her spot at her desk. “Lance is right, Shiro! Though he still shot down my idea of getting a bulletproof vest.” She sounded like she was pouting, and Shiro blinked. “They only stop projectiles, Pidge, they don't protect you all that great from a kick to the chest. You'd still get tossed and bruised.” Lance defended himself, rolling his eyes. This led to an intense debate between the two on force, inertia, the density of padding versus the strength of a kick, the vulnerability of the human body, and a bunch of other terms that had Shiro feeling like he was in the middle of a scientific lecture on physics.

Luckily, the debate ended with the return of Keith and Hunk with a large plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and various other snacks. Pidge finished checking the wiring and nodded in satisfaction, moving over to Shiro. Hunk held up the camera. “Right, we're rolling!” The big man signaled. “Okay, on three, big guy.” She muttered, Lance getting into position to hold the arm steady. Shiro nodded, keeping as still as possible as Pidge unlatched the cuff and pressed it into place at the edge of his stump, lining up the tiny near-invisible needles to the correct marks Lance had traced onto a diagram earlier.

Lance's sharp eyes and steady hands guided the robot arm into place, and Pidge counted under her breath. “One...two...three!” On three, she and Lance moved and quickly attached the prosthetic, Pidge's quick fingers moving up to lock the cuff over the held position of the arm, which triggered the launching of the needles and wires.

Shiro grunted as a prickling feeling erupted all over his shoulder and stump as the needles did their work, attaching the wires to their assigned places and nerves. The needles were made of condensed nutrients that were absorbed by the body once their job was done. The cuff locked into place, keeping everything still as the tingly feeling faded away and Shiro now had a hunk of metal connected to him.

“Alright, now we just wait a few moments for the nerves to kick in… Shiro, let me know if you start feeling any phantom pains or anything like when you had your actual right arm, because that means it's starting to work.” Lance ordered as he and Pidge moved away to let the arm do it's work. Shiro nodded, his brain getting used to the new attachment, until he suddenly jolted and started staring at the arm in shock.

“Shiro?” Keith asked, worried. Shiro's reply was a near whisper. “I- It's like I can feel the wires like muscles…” Pidge's eyes lit up. “Okay, try telling it to move with your brain!” Shiro nodded and narrowed his eyes, concentrating, and the fingers twitched. A quiet gasp echoed in the room. “Try again, like, give us a wave maybe?” Lance asked, and Shiro complied, the arm twitching and suddenly moving up to wave at the camera. A grin started to spread over Shiro's face. Pidge bounced up and down on the balls of her feet excitedly as she whipped out the testing checklist.

Shiro then proceeded to ace every single test with ease, becoming more and more used to using the arm as each test went by. Soon he didn't even have to focus too hard in order to move it, as it worked just like a real arm. Shiro couldn't stop smiling, and it was honestly the most adorable thing Lance had ever seen. Once the final test had passed, Pidge declared him officially cleared to use it however he liked. The first thing he did was scoop the prosthetic creators up in a huge hug, laughing joyfully and spinning them around, much to  Pidge's loud squawking protest and Lance's surprised yelp.

Shiro actually even kissed the girl on the forehead and Lance on the cheek in gratitude before letting them go and practically bounding over to his brother like an overeager puppy to show off how his new arm moved. Keith had never seen Shiro like this before in his life, so he was a little blinded by the beaming smile on his older brother's face.

Hunk wandered over to Lance, trying not to laugh at how the biologist student was bent over, one hand supporting him on the desk while the other clutched at his heart as he wheezed and sputtered through a blushing face that put the color of a red bell pepper to shame. Hunk gently reminded Lance to breathe while Shiro practically sang praises behind them. Lance couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day, and neither did Shiro. Pidge had new blackmail material on Lance, and quite happily shared it with Keith. Lance also didn't sleep that night, at least not as well as usual.

They got an A+, and the blueprints were actually being sent to the top research facility in prosthetics! Pidge could not stop freaking out over this news, and was currently walking behind Lance and Shiro, babbling to her parents about it. They were on their way back from the last class of the day, as everyone was getting ready for the break between semesters since the last day of school was tomorrow. Pidge waved them ahead as she continued to talk with her brother over the phone, so it was just the two college students as they walked towards the dorm building.

Lance walked next to Shiro, humming idly as his eyes flicked over to the taller male now and then. “So, Lance?” Shiro started, and Lance jumped slightly, not having expected Shiro to start talking. “Uh, yeah? What's up?” He asked, trying not to seem a little panicked. “So, uh, I was wondering… are you free this weekend?” That was not a question Lance was expecting, and he stumbled over a loose chunk of concrete on the sidewalk, falling forwards with a yelp, scrunching his eyes in anticipation for the inevitable crash to the ground.

Which… never came, as two strong arms shot forward and caught him before he hit concrete, one smooth metal and the other firm, warm skin and muscle. “Woah, are you okay?” Shiro asked, concerned, and Lance blinked up at him and offered an awkward smile as he scrambled to stand back on his own two legs. “Yeah, I'm cool, just didn't notice the pothole, haha.” He joked, attempting to cover up his embarrassment. Letting go of his hold on the other, Shiro smiled warmly at him. “Oh good. So, about this weekend… maybe I could treat you to lunch or something?” Oh, they were already at the dorms...

Lance smiled at the slight flush over the taller man's cheeks. “Yeah, I'm free on Saturday, if you'd like...” Shiro's smile widened. “Great! It's a date then. See you around, Lance!” Lance's jaw dropped as Shiro gave him a friendly wave goodbye and started jogging up the stairs to his floor. Lance could practically feel his face turning redder and redder as he processed the words.

“It's a date then!…..It's a date then….a date….”

Later, Hunk came home to find Lance screaming into the thickest pillow they had, and laughed like crazy when he learned the reason why.

That year, there was a new Cutest Couple in the yearbook. Lance had never been happier in his life, and Shiro was just as pleased.

Two college students, finally free from school, sat next to each other on lounge chairs outside a cute little drink store and watched people walk by. Both were wearing clothes more suited for summer, the man in a tank top and shorts, the woman in a t-shirt and jean shorts. Oddly enough, both were wearing sunhats and sunglasses.

The shorter woman sipped her lime green syrupy drink and smirked at her phone where a picture of two men holding hands, laughing, popped up on a Facebook post. The man next to her mirrored the smirk, and reached out his fist to bump against hers while he drank his own cherry red Italian soda.

“What do you think, Keith?”

“Pidge, I do believe that we can proclaim this mission, accomplished.”

The plan had worked, and the two lovebirds were none the wiser.