#not anon

What, exactly, qualifies as "eldritch"? Anyway, here's a couple quick ones.

Then could you do a fem maid reader that dazai keeps flirting with and she gets super annoyed, sprays his face repeatedly to test his patience now, and he continues annoying her, so she just gives up and hands him the cleaning stuff, telling him to clean if he wont shut up

Though if not open.

Feel free to ignore this like im a ghost..boo...

𝕱eather 𝕯uster

⌯⌲ hi there sweetheart, mini fic requests are currently always on, so i will definitely take this. i think i remember seeing this req from you before & you mentioned pm!dazai? i’ll have to make him at least 18 for this, since it might be a little suggestive, i hope you don’t mind~

“Oh~, if it isn’t my favorite worker,” that soft voice taunts behind you, usually one that would make anyone else swoon, but you’ve heard it so often that it’s flat out irritating at this point. A near constant that makes you want to quit, but the money is just too good to pass up — because where else are you going to make stacks upon stacks of cash for simply doing maid services? You sigh inwardly, ignoring him, continuing to wipe down the counters, doing your best to not let him know you heard him. “You always look like you know what you’re doing with your hands.” Dazai continues, leaning against your perfectly clean counter with his soiled clothes, and you side eye him — he has specks of blood on his shirt collar and bandages, and his nose is bleeding. “Forgive my appearance, I try to look nothing but the best for you, but I just returned from a rather difficult job and, quite frankly, you are all the medicine I need.” His overactive fingers reach out to twirl a piece of your hair around, and you just lightly swat his hand away.

“And if it isn’t the walking HR violation,” you greet sweetly with a tight smile, before turning back to your work. "What do you need now? Me to do your dry cleaning... again?" You sigh, gently nudging him out of your way as you re-wipe down the surface to avoid any remnants of his dirt and blood getting everywhere.

"I'd like for you to take me up on my offer," his wrist comes up to carefully wipe under his nose, eyeing the deep sanguine riddled on the gauze, and he can't help wondering if you think I look hot like that. However, without an initial reaction, he may have to try a different approach. Again. You stop to sigh heavily, rolling your eyes, then toss the towel at his chest before turning to walk toward your cart of cleaning supplies. His hand barely catches it, watching after you with his lone eye and a slight smirk dancing along his lips. "C'mon, what's it gonna take to finally get you to say yes?" He continues, following behind you and chucking the rag on the top as you start moving. Ignoring him.

"There isn't enough money in the world to get me to be your personal maid to clean a shipping container," you emphasize. "Heaven knows you'll put me in one of those dumb outfits." You sneer at the thought, shaking your head and trying to push farther to get away from him.

"I'll have you know, mi bellisima," his steps float along the floor, spinning him around to be in front of your cart, hands coming down to grip it to prevent you from going forward. "I have moved up in the world. I have an apartment now." He tells you, proud, definitely trying to show off now since part of the reason you wanted nothing to do with him since the jump is that he seemed like the type to absolutely free load. You didn't want him to try moving into your place, invade your space, and eat all your food.

"Wow," you drawl, faux impress, but your expression is a blank slate of absolutely not caring. "I'm sure that hurt your heart and wallet to break away from your precious container." You try being more forceful when pushing the cart, but he is shockingly stronger, it hardly budging, and he is still sporting that infuriatingly boastful smile as he gazes at you. "Please let me through. I have more of the building to clean, and I'm the only one on staff today so I need to hurry."

"See? If you were working for only me, you'd have one floor to clean," he purposefully entices, propping his elbow on the cart's surface, other hand out in a form of offering. "It's a simple two-bedroom, two bathroom, but it has an expansive living and kitchen area. Luxury, of course, all shiny, hardwood flooring or tile, and I don't own any pets." He rattles all of this information off to you, as if trying to sell it to you, and you merely continue to stare at him blankly.

"Dazai, are you trying to play that your penthouse is a simple apartment?" You ask, blunt, taking a guess. Anything "expansive" typically means it is more than an apartment. Though, two bedrooms and two bathrooms don't seem like much for a luxury living space that most higher-up mafia members live in. You had heard a rumor that Chuuya's place has at least three bedrooms and is a bi-level.

"Now, I wouldn't call it a penthouse, per se," his voice is airy and nonchalant, head tilting as his cheek rests in his palm. "Why don't you come home with me tonight to see for yourself?" His tongue pokes out between his teeth when he grants you a cheeky smile, and your shoulders slump from agitation. You adjust your grip on the handle before aggressively and roughly jerking it backwards, causing him to stumble forward, and you turn around to find a different route.

"You make me sick."

"Why would you leave me alone in my time of need?!" He laments, overdramatic. "I'm injured and in need of medical attention!"

"I'm a maid!" You yell back over your shoulder. "Go to Mori if you're in the much pain!" You turn your nose up, a soft 'hmph' following when you round the corner and disappear from his eyesight. He sighs, pouting, and folds his arms as he tries to think of other methods to get your romantic attention.

"Mori's not even anywhere remotely like a cute maid though," he grumbles, trudging down the hall with his head hung as he makes way for the boss' office for pain pills and fresh bandages.

All day, Dazai had followed you around the building while you were just wanting to get your job complete, already discouraged since you were working alone, and he wasn't making it any better. He would put his hands on stuff you just wiped down or polished, mess with the supplies in your cart, take things from your hands when in the middle of using them, and at one point, he hoisted himself up on your cart to sit comfortably. You are incredibly used to his antics, his annoying tendencies, his overall overbearing and intruding personality, but this is the most insistent he has ever been, and you're overwhelmed. You typically leave Mori's office for last, since he'll be gone by the time you get there and won't be in his way, but you're one more comment from the executive about 'how cute you'd look in a maid dress' away from storming in there and quitting on the spot.

"What do I need to do to get you to be my maid?" He sighs heavily, leaning on your cart beside the windows, cheeks propped on his fists, and wearing an extremely pathetic pout. Your finger stills mid-squeeze of the window cleaner in your hand, and you faintly make out your reflection in the glass as the sun is setting. You've been there since five in the morning, and it is way after five in the evening, and this smooth-talking teenager has been talking your ear off for hours, bitching and complaining about how he doesn't like cleaning his own place, the maids he did hire aren't 'nearly as thorough as you' or 'aren't as cute either', droning on and on about how he just doesn't have the time or energy to do much in general — but apparently having 'mi bellisima' there every day would surely 'make everything better'. Why does he think he has the right to call me that anyhow?!

"Dazai, this is your only warning," you begin, hands gripping tight to your bottle and wiper, staring straight ahead with your eyes starting to shake in your sockets. "Shut up, go away, and leave me alone, or you're going to be the one finishing cleaning this building." He blinks a couple times, his visible eye widened some at your octave, and he can't help a small smile inching on his face at your hostility. What can I say, he's a sucker for a woman that's mean to him. His teeth briefly bite down on his teeth, gently dragging them back and bats his lashes, you unaware that he is gearing up to call your bluff.

"Oh~, mi bellisima," he softly swoons, his cheeks suddenly beginning to flush. "Have I ever told you how stunning you are when you're angry?" The worst part: he means it. What an outdated and overused line! Your jaw tightens, lids dropping for a long moment, taking in one long inhale, then slowly exhale through your nose — almost resembling a bull preparing to run through the matador in the ring.

You abruptly turn, smile sickeningly sweet, and his features drop. One thing he has learned with all the ways he has tormented you is that expression means the opposite: you're livid. You walk over, steps slow and calculated, and his eye darts to your spray bottle as he gradually straightens himself up, taking a small step backward. "Don't leave now, we were having such a great conversation." You say, voice dripping in honey, and you're honestly sending him mixed signals.

"I think you were right earlier, I have so much stuff I need to do," he tries, but it's wasted breath now. The rag drops on the cart when your other hand reaches out — swift like a cobra — to snatch at his tie to yank him closer. "Hey, remember, I'm your superior." He reminds, but for once, his voice is shaking and none of those words are steady.

"Like I care!" You shout, spraying his face repeatedly with the window cleaner, his eye squeezing shut and biting down on the inside of his cheek as his lips stay tightly closed together. His bandage around his head soaks up some of the liquid, the smell permeating his nose, and you only release him when your finger starts to hurt. You chuck the bottle to the side and storm off without another word, leaving him there drenching in lemon-scented window shine, confused about his feelings toward the incident, and conflicted with chasing after you to make you regret doing that.

Much to Dazai's dismay, his partner happens to be passing by, gloved hands in his pockets, and his feet come to a slow stop as his blue and brown gawk at the state of him. Chuuya stands beside him, eyeing him up and down, silent, the chain of his hat lightly rattling with his head movements, and he suddenly snorts without hiding his grin. A dark brown eye glides in his direction, jaw tight, and he exhales through his nose just as you did. "Do not say a word." He whispers, threatening, as if that would have any affect on Chuuya.

"How much more cleaning supplies getting dumped on you until you learn women don't like being harassed?" He laughs, throwing his head back while he returns his journey off elsewhere in the building, taking patrol, and leaving behind his counterpart the way he found him. Dazai's arms come up to fold over his lightly damp chest, the lemon overpowering, and starts wondering if his "magical charm" has worn off since it doesn't seem to work on you. At all.

boo, it is done <3

- ghxst

mini fic masterlist

THREE. maybe my fave murderbot character full stop. in a series that also has murderbot.

volescu who was in one (1) book and then went well that was stressful i think i will retire actually. ONLY RATIONAL ACTOR IN THE UNIVERSE???

amena. she is having the weirdest scariest time but somehow stays true to her roots as a snarky teen raised by hotshot hippies. WHILE wielding a weapon she's never been taught how to use. hello, dr. president mom. i have just had a traumatic experience. allow me to introduce the new parent i just adopted, Killing Machine With Feelings. today i watched it rend several people limb from limb and then make a baby.

thiago. if murderbot wasn't so pissy about him, i might not care about him so much. but as it is, i derive great pleasure from him and his role in the story. his concerns are reasonable, he's brave, he has people skills. he's a language nerd! sure, he doesn't understand what's happening sometimes unless you explain it to him, but that's true of literally everyone. meanwhile murderbot has cast him as Asshole Who Doesn't Like Me primarily because it needs someone handy it can attribute those feelings to, and gurathin stayed home this time.

AAAAAAaAaaaaaa I'm so normal about this actually. Totally normal.

Anyway loving your Trinity learning ASL and HOH Walsh headcannons/fics I’d love to see something where Walsh and Trinity work a case together where the patient is deaf. I’d love for it to be a paediatric case but it’s up to you.

Maybe the patient needs a procedure in the ED that requires a surgeons skill along with an emergency medicine doctor so Trinity and Walsh take care of them while also communicating with them in ASL

Anyway no pressure but if you’re interested I’d love to more from this au!

I love this!!!! Thank you for the prompt!!! I mentioned a case in these hcs, but here's a full mini fic...

Signs and Jewels

Tags: emery walsh, trinity santos, nurse jesse, medical inaccuracies pls be nice, walshtos if you squint, baran is also there for some reason sorry

A/N:

Simcom means speaking and sign at the same time!

I’m going to start tagging these posts as #pittasl so the au is compiled!

"Santos! Incoming pediatric case, 5 minutes out, young girl fell from some playground equipment, she vomited and passed out. They're suspecting head injury but are having trouble communicating with her, could be shock."

"Got it Dana! Prepping peds now!"

Trinity hops up from her desk, grabs a couple of nurses, and heads toward the pediatric trauma room.

After Trinity's residency was over, she stayed on for a new fellowship at PTMC, for pediatric emergency medicine. Dr. Al-Hashimi had been the catalyst for the development of the program, as she found that PTMC did not have enough staff trained in dealing with children. Baran has a medically complex child and wanted the ER to be prepared to treat children, especially those with complex diseases or conditions. She had personally asked Trinity to consider the program after watching Trinity work with children and wrote her a letter of recommendation.

Trinity loves her job. Many of the people who come into the ER do because they've done something stupid, and Trinity can't help but make fun of them. Kids were different-they were exploring, learning, and Trinity could never fault them for that. They deserve to make mistakes, get back up, and try again. Trinity wasn't always given that chance.

5 minutes later, Trinity meets the gurney as it is wheeled into the ER. A young girl, maybe 10 or 11, is looking around at all of the adults running at her.

"Young girl, bradycardic at 60 bpm, blood pressure is 145/90 mmHg, teacher said she fell from the monkey bars and was fine, but started wandering around and collapsed about 15 minutes later."

As they rush into the trauma room, the adults surround the child.

Trinity looks down at the girl and gives her a reassuring smile.

"Hi, I'm Dr Santos, I'm the pediatric ER specialist here. You're at the hospital; we just got to check some things out since we heard you aren't feeling good. We are going to move you over to this big table, how does that sound?"

The girl just stares at Trinity. Trinity takes the opportunity to check her eyes with a flashlight. The girl shrieks and swings her arm weakly over her eyes.

"Whoa, okay. We definitely have some sort of neurological injury. I think she's a little out of it, Jesse, can you pick her up and move her over? Make sure you communicate with her about what you are doing. I am going to call for Baran for a 2nd opinion."

"I'm here" Baran calls as she walks in. "Do we have contact information for the parents?"

"We're attempting to get it from the school."

While Jesse moves the girl over, Baran looks over at Trinity.

"What are we thinking, Dr. Santos?"

"Possible concussion, sensitive to light and apparent confusion, however I'm worried about a possible ICH as her blood pressure is really high. I think we need to get someone down from surgery in case we need to do a decompression."

"I agree, you get a name from her, and I'll check for muscle weakness and ataxia. Jesse, can you start an IV?"

Trinity turns back to the girl.

"My friend Dr. Al is going to check to see if your muscles are working properly. What were you doing when you fell?"

The girl is staring at Trinity's mouth. She yanks her arms away from Baran, who was examining them. Baran looks at Trinity.

Trinity is stumped. The girl is old enough to be able to understand that she and Baran are doctors, but she's beginning to wonder if the confusion is more severe than she thought.

Walsh walks in at that moment.

"Alright, what are we working with?"

Trinity looks up.

"Head injury, heavily suspecting of ICH. Blood pressure is so high we may need to prep for a Burr hole. We've already called CT. If we get this IV in, we can sedate to scan and do the procedure before any major damage is done."

"Without parental permission?"

"We haven't gotten ahold of them yet. And we haven't gotten a name to see if she's in our system. I don't think we can wait."

While they were talking, Jesse was speaking kindly to the young girl as he prepped an IV line. As he gently took the girls hand to put the IV in, she begins to wave her hands around, knocking the needle out of his hand and trying to get away.

Trinity and Walsh run to either side of the girl.

"Hey hey hey, it's alright, we're not here to hurt you! Nurse Jesse here is going to start an IV, there's gonna be a needle but only for a second!"

The girl panickedly looks between the two of them. She waves her hands around weakly but drops them after a moment.

"Walsh, I don't think she speaks English."

"But that doesn't explain why she isn't speaking at all. And she won't let us get this IV in her hand. I don't want to have to restrain her to get this IV in, that's traumatizing."

Trinity reaches out her hand to the little girls to try to hold it. The little girl moves her hand away, in tears. Emery turns to help Jesse set up another IV, and Trinity sees the girl's eyes light up in recognition. She points to Walsh, and then puts her pointer finger to her ear, then down to her mouth.

The sign for "deaf?"

Trinity immediately starts to sim-com.

"Are you deaf? Do you sign?"

Walsh hears Trinity speak behind her and turns around to see the little girl weakly sign back,

"Yes. Head hurts. Bad."

Walsh jumps into action and signs,

"I'm Deaf too. We are here to help you. We need to put a very small needle in your hand to help you rest, then the headache will go away. Is that okay? Are you comfortable signing with one hand?"

The girl hesitates, and then signs "yes".

Emery sim coms,

"Ok Jesse, go ahead and prep the IV."

She turns back to the girl.

"My name is Dr. W-a-l-s-h. My sign name is,"

Emery makes the letter E sign in front of her mouth.

"And this is Dr. S-a-n-t-o-s"

Trinity gives her sign name, forming the letter T with her right hand and touching both her cheeks back-to-back. Trinity then signs,

"What's your name?"

"J-U-L-E-S O-D-O-N-A-L-D. I'm ten. I want to go back to school"

The girl signs the letter J next to her ear after she spells her name.

Emery calls to the nurse behind her and says,

"Check the EHR for a Jules O'Donald. Get in contact with her parents immediately."

Trinity leans down to Jules.

"You sign beautifully. It must have been so scary to come here without being able to talk to anyone. You are so brave."

Jesse inserts the IV, and the little girl signs "Thanks" with her other hand.

Walsh smiles at Jules.

"You are going to take a nap now, okay? But when you wake up your parents will be here."

"And you'll have goodies!" Trinity signs.

"What's your favorite juice?"

Jules grins and signs,

"Apple!"

"Do you like dogs, Jules?"

"Yes!"

"You going to wake up in the part of the hospital that has kids, okay? There will be a therapy dog, and juice, and so many games. We will make sure somewhere there knows sign language."

"Will you be there, Trinity?"

"I can be."

Jules smiles at the doctors and signs,

"Okay, I'm ready now."

. . .

you draw chubby Miku in a similar body type I have

does your chubby Miku have a similar body type to me...

..or do I have a similar body type to your chubby Miku...?

I scream for I do not know