baran.

baran.

[s4nsfrontieres]

S4NSFRONTIERES. an indie, selective interpretation of dr. baran al-hashimi of the pi.tt. established july 2026. low and sporadic activity. mostly canon compliant. mutuals only. written by steph.

affiliated with... tbd.

a study in… the impossibly high achiever. the humanitarian. fighting for the underdog. justice prevailing.

blogroll: @ltnsingh, @sc4torccio, @danviers rules:

I will not follow anyone back who is under 21. I'm in my mid - thirties, so this is non - negotiable.

baran is very bisexual.

please feel free to send memes! these are great icebreakers, and can serve as a jumping off point before we plot further.

I have a zero tolerance policy for racism, xenophobia, antisemitism, homophobia, facism, zionism, or any kind of bigotry. if you display any of these behaviours, I'll hard block without hesitation.

in addition to the above, if you take part in excessive vague posting or callouts, you will be blocked. I don't care for callout culture unless the subject is a legitimate danger. I am a big believer of just blocking and moving on if someone is writing something I don't like.

themes on this blog will include canon typical medical gore and traumatic events, consistent with both the nature of the ED and baran's backstory and medical history. common triggers will be tagged upon request.

[mctrouble]

@s4nsfrontieres ' you did good today. really good. '

"----thanks." it shouldn't make her brain buzz the way it does. the easy praise, the emphasis, the way it feels like her boss means it. their gowns are both blood covered and she barely has the energy to pull hers off yet. but it's over. finally over. and she did good today. so that counts. "it wasn't special. everyone did."

[s4nsfrontieres]

" yes... and those patients you assisted were lucky you were here today, " baran pressed, her tired, half - hazy eyes only momentarily leaving the vibrant red still staining her hands, forearms, shoes, to appraise her R2; the same violent shade that soaked through the thin sheet draped over the unmistakable shape of a human being in her peripheral.

luck seemed a mockery of a word, given the extent of the carnage. the term building collapse only meant so much in the abstract — but that so many had pulled through long enough to head up to the surgical floor almost felt like a modest victory. " take the compliment, doctor santos. "

[s4nsfrontieres]

out. consider: baran just... sitting there in her car in the parking lot post - s2, for hours, paralyzed by the thought of trying to drive after the day she's had because what if she'd had a breakthrough seizure with her son in the back seat. she considers sleeping there, but then eventually ubers home at like 4am the next morning before the next day shift starts. she doesn't want to be seen.

[wesandresons]

SEPIDEH MOAFI as GIGI GHORBANI THE L WORD: GENERATION Q “Season 2, Episode 1 - Late to the Party”

[s4nsfrontieres]

out. didn't get much sleep last night because of the heatwave we're having and I have a busy day, so I most likely won't be getting much done here today

[rpsourcedmemes]

Ask my muse anything you want on anon!

[mctrouble]

charming or offensive. people don't usually give her a choice in the matter. she'd crafted sharp edges that crafted edges of their own so that no one who approaches her gets anything but a mouthful of brick.

she'd had dreams growing up -- still has them now sometimes -- that her mouth is full of fragments trinity can't get out. sometimes sharp, sometimes fibrous, sometimes gravel or sand. and the more she tries the more there is and there's no clearing the wreckage and her jaw aches from the time it takes to pry her mouth open, fit her hands inside, and try to claw it all out. a stupid website had said the symbolism indicated a fear of saying hurtful things. an explanation that had felt so on the nose, trinity swore her subconscious just stopped having the dreams out of the stubborn desire to not be so fucking obvious.

trinity had said a thousand hurtful things in her life but no one had ever stopped and asked if they were supposed to hurt. doctor al-hashimi probably doesn't even mean all that much by it, by the word charming bounces around trinity's head like it's suddenly hollow. "neither," she shrugs, offering absolutely no other indication to the contrary.

crossing her arms, trinity rocks back on her feet almost to the wall, looking at the space between her and her boss's shoes instead of her serious, intent stare two feet away. what she wants to say is i don't know what the fuck to do with that. but all that comes out is "if we want to make the ED more comfortable maybe we can start asking upper management for better chairs--" bullshit it's more bullshit. and her mouth feels full of fibrous nonsense again. "look, I just came in here for a second, okay? it's not that serious. i needed a minute, i took a minute. isn't that what we're supposed to do?"

[s4nsfrontieres]

she knew the strategy well enough: humor as a defense mechanism. flimsy, blasé, sometimes dark humor; the kind that came from the gallows and kept heads above water in times of emotional strain. it wasn't uncommon in places like this — just human, like the sudden, pressurised beginning of a crushing panic attack in the middle of chairs. like the onset of brain - buzzing drowsiness at the end of a twelve hour shift marked by death and disturbance. ( like the feeling of an examination room suddenly fading out into a blur, the hands of the clock on the wall stalling for five, ten seconds: not long enough to draw attention, but enough for that sensation of disconnection to feel quietly, privately threatening. )

baran's hands unclasped from behind her back, the movement measured, close to perfect. as subdued as the contemplative purse of her lips.

" or, we could start with honesty. " there were a myriad of suggestions she could make for the betterment of the ED and its inhabitants — suggestions that'd started with reminders about completing urgent documentation and notes around efficiency that'd been shot down instantaneously, swatted aside, and belittled. if any idea she'd come up with might've constituted a possible forward step toward improving staff morale, toward helping doctor santos get through the next few hours, new seating certainly hadn't entered the equation.

" fine, " she conceded. " I will leave you to your minute. but I don't want this situation with doctor langdon escalating. and I want you to remember that as your attending — you can come talk to me. "

[s4nsfrontieres]

out. manifesting sepideh for the emmy win, please and thank.

[robaran]

Dr. Baran Al-Hashimi and her huge dewy haunted brown eyes against the world

THE PITT 2.02 | 2.14 | 2.15

[s4nsfrontieres]

@pittbroke asked: if you need to cry, i'll look the other way.

" I don't need you to hold my fucking hand, robby. " she hadn't meant to snap. hadn't meant for it to come out so abrasively, so indiscriminately.

but it'd been a day of disappointments married with minute victories, a single shift comprised of small and imperceptible personal catastrophes — a day that'd started with so much pre - dawn promise that had still, somehow, managed to nosedive into a wreck beyond her anticipation. one she'd been eager to keep behind closed doors.

wheeling around, the tips of her fingers nearly instantly grappling for the thin blinds half - drawn down the trauma room's window, baran pressed the palm of her other hand into her eye like the pressure might release something; like it might ease the pounding in the base of her skull, the prick of frustrated tears starting to burn behind the mascara - less, dark defenses of her lash - line. it hadn't needed to happen here, like this: this complete, semi - public shattering of the perfect mask she'd held up for herself when the foundations she'd spent years stabilising had started to rattle. but in robby's capable hands, hands she'd decided to place her faith in, it had, like a sledgehammer crashing against bowing plywood.

to break down now, here — it was beyond considering. " what I need is some fucking trust. "

[s4nsfrontieres]

out. already thinking about giving baran a star trek verse. HELLO chief medical officer al - hashimi

[s4nsfrontieres]

i love your baran so much already i am actively reading all of your posts like a rabid little freak. i especially love the way you've got her dialogue right now and her measured but sometimes playful tone. i can not wait to do more things and read more things and when everyone's obsesed with you i AM going to take the credit for dragging you here but you can keep the credit for being amazing.

I love youuuuuuuu and you absolutely can take all the credit for this blog existing

[s4nsfrontieres]

from what i've seen, you've got a firm grasp on baran's voice. to me, there's such a strong similarity to the actual cadence of how sepideh speaks in the written dialogues in particular. but i think you've also got a great look into the internal dialogues as well. very excited to see more of you on the dash, and i can't wait to get power back after these thunderstorms blow over so i can actually write with you.

thank you so much! I'm obviously still getting to grips with her, but her voice is very important to me since it feels so specific, and it's the thing I've been trying to get down first and foremost. looking forward to writing more and plotting with you! 💕

[musingmeme-blog]

beep beep how’s my portrayal ?

[s4nsfrontieres]

@mctrouble asked: how much of that did you see?

" almost nothing, " baran supplied, any underlying concern that'd taken residence in her voice smoothed over by distraction, by dawning exhaustion. " I mostly overheard it. "

technically, she'd practically caught the entire discussion: almost every warning - laced word that'd come out of doctor garcia's mouth, the intimate particulars of a conversation not meant for the ears of the hospital's wider delegation only partially muffled by a set of half - closed doors, and every deflected response that she'd registered from santos in return.

it certainly hadn't been her intention to eavesdrop — neither had it been any of her business.

[drsntos]

[s4nsfrontieres]

@pittvet asked: how much of that did you see?

" enough to know that injury should have been documented, " baran offered, through a pinched smile, though she knew better than to force her hand further.

it'd been a quick flash amidst a barrage of chest tubes and blood, saline and the overpungent smell of newly bleached floors: a swatch of gauze and clean dressing patched over some unseen wound at his shoulder blade that she hadn't seen a patient passport or chart for. maybe it was just some innocuous oversight, or maybe it wasn't — but that was where she let her less than subtle suggestion die.

" impressive, by the way. not a lot of physicians are pushing for extracurricular work. "