btw it's so fucking stupid you can be anxious physically in your body even after you've decided mentally you don't care. I'm supposed to be in charge here

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btw it's so fucking stupid you can be anxious physically in your body even after you've decided mentally you don't care. I'm supposed to be in charge here

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between the lines
https://www.tumblr.com/julestrella/819153654126968832/between-the-lines?source=share (part one)
baran x afab!character; Afro-Brazilian Character.
Chapter 2/ “It’s a practice in Alabama”
Nothing like a rainy day to get to know your new coworker.
TW: medical inaccuracies, but nothing graphic
Al Hashimi and Parahyba didn’t cross paths again until two days later. It was raining, more like pouring. Tainá was driving home when she saw Baran in front of the hospital. The woman was looking at her phone, so the neurosurgeon honked to get her attention. The attending looked up at the sound, and Tainá rolled the passenger’s window down.
“Hey, Bambi! Need a ride?” She asked with a smug look. The attending rushed towards the car, her jacket on her head for minimal protection.
“You don’t mind?” Baran asked once she had reached the car.
“Get in,” Tainá told her, pushing the passenger’s door open.
Baran got in quickly and put her seatbelt on. The neurosurgeon took a quick look at her; her hair was in her usual half-up, half-down, a bit frizzy because of Pittsburgh's humidity. She had shed the scrubs for a Stanford T-shirt and some blue jeans. Except for the bags under her eyes, the woman looked good, Tainá thought.
“Ready?” She asked after the attending was done buckling up. Baran nodded. “Put your address in,” Tainá told her, handing her her phone.
“Thank you so much,” Baran said as she gave the neurosurgeon her phone back. “Most buses are blocked because of the flooding downtown, and Ubers are taking forever.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Tainá dismissed with a hand motion as she started driving, following the GPS instructions.
The two sat in the car in silence for a while. The only sound that could be heard was the rain hitting the car and the windshield wipers. The silence wasn’t awkward; it was peaceful, especially after a day working in the E.R. for the attending, and Tainá just liked silence sometimes.
Nonetheless, the journey to Baran’s house dragged on as they got caught in traffic. After about ten minutes of being stuck, the neurosurgeon tapped her fingers against the wheel.
“So,” She said. Baran turned to her, a smug look on her face.
“So what?” She asked.
Tainá turned to her with a glare, hands still on the wheel. “I’m trying to make conversation, Bambi. Don’t make it harder than it already is,” She told her with a shake of the head, a smile threatening her lips.
Baran laughed at that. “Alright, I’m sorry. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you around much.”
“Oh, I’m good. I’ve had three different procedures over the past few days. Long procedures,” She specified. “That’s why you haven’t seen me much in the Pitt.”
Baran groaned at that last part, “I hate this name.”
It was Tainá’s turn to laugh. “I heard about that, yeah,” Baran looked at her with a questioning look. “I have eyes everywhere, and also Trinity told me.”
“Dr Santos?” Baran’s brown furrowed. “I didn’t know you two were close.”
“We’re not,” The neurosurgeon said, her eyes widening just a bit, fearing she said too much.
“Is it because she’s got a thing for your friend, Dr Garcia?” Baran asked her. She knew the answer already, but it was fun seeing Tainá turn to her, shocked. “Relax, I know.”
Tainá leaned back in her seat. “How?” She asked.
It’s not that the two were discreet, but more so the fact that it took about six months for their coworkers to see that something was going on, yet Baran had known about it in not even three weeks of being here.
The attending shrugged. “I have eyes. Though I must admit I thought Dr Garcia was your ex-partner or something of the sort,” She added, which earned her another horrified look as Tainá fake gagged.
“Please never say that again! Yolanda’s my cousin, we grew up together,” The neurosurgeon told her, turning to look back at the road as the cars started moving at last.
“It’s a practice in Alabama,” Baran told her in all seriousness. Tainá shot her a quick, disgusted look that made the woman laugh. “I’m kidding!”
“Ah Ah, very funny,” Tainá said sarcastically before changing subjects. “How have you been? Your head?”
Baran took a breath, smoothing her hands on her thighs. “I’ve been fine and so has my head. The swelling went down drastically, and the headaches stopped,” She told the neurosurgeon. The latter stayed quiet, asking a silent question. “I haven’t had any seizures, if that’s what you were hinting at.”
“That’s good,” Tainá nodded. “I’m glad.”
The sincerity in her voice took Baran by surprise; the woman was used to her witty and sarcastic remarks. The attending took a moment to look at Tainá the same way Tainá did when Baran was buckling up. The neurosurgeon had her hair in the same fish braid as the day they met, and some curls had been let out to frame her face. She was wearing a half-sleeved top that revealed the tattoos on her arms and some regular dark blue jeans, similar to the ones the attending was wearing.
“We’re almost at your house,” Tainá said, shaking Baran out of her thoughts. The woman nodded, looking at the GPS to see that the ETA was 2 minutes.
A few minutes later, Tainá parked in front of Baran’s house.
“I cannot thank you enough for driving me home. I hope I wasn’t too much of a bother,” Baran told her as she picked up her bags.
“You weren’t, don’t worry,” Tainá said, giving her a tired smile. “Get some rest.”
Baran nodded as she got out of the car, yet she did not dare close the door. “Do you wanna grab a bite upstairs?” She asked. “As a thank you, I mean. I made way too much Morassa Polo last night.”
“I would have loved to, but I’m really tired. I’m going to get home and sleep until tomorrow,” Tainá told her. “But if you still have some left tomorrow, bring me some for lunch, then you won’t owe me,” The neurosurgeon teased.
“I’ll do that,” Baran said with a shake of her head and a smile. “See you tomorrow.”
Tainá was once again with Dana, signing a chart when the attending saw her.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Dr Dramatic,” Baran teased as she handed a file to one of the nurses.
Tainá shook her head with a smile at the voice. She handed the file back to the charge nurse with a small ‘thanks’ before turning to the attending. “Dr Al Hashimi,” She simply said, leaning with one elbow on the nurses’ desk.
“I already told you, Baran, please,” The attending told her before making a head motion towards a random part of the E.R. “Walk with me?” So Tainá did.
“How was your night?” The neurosurgeon asked as she walked next to the attending, supposedly nowhere (?).
“Fine. And you?”
“The rain put me to sleep,” Tainá told her before looking around. “So, where are you leading me right now?”
“Nowhere,” Baran shrugged. That made Tainá stop in her tracks and turn to her. “What?” The attending asked, also stopping, with a small smile on her lips.
“I got a surgery in thirty. I thought you needed my help on something.”
“Well, no. But it’s been proven that walking helps you relax, which you’ll most likely need for surgery,” Baran told her, cocking her head to the side with a smug smile.
“Walking anywhere but the E.D., sure. Walking around this E.D. feels like waiting for death to come get you,” Tainá told her.
Baran frowned at that. “I don’t get if you just hate the day shift, or if you hate the E.D., or if you just hate your job.”
The neurosurgeon laughed at that, seeing the seriousness in Baran’s eyes. “I love my job, don’t worry. Being a neurosurgeon is so much easier than doing whatever you do down here.”
“That’s debatable,” Baran muttered.
“For your information, I don’t actually hate any of this, but night shift’s more fun. It’s calibrated, organised, more put together,” Tainá shrugged.
Baran scanned the woman’s face, brown eyes shining with what Tainá knew was going to be a joke. “Are you saying my E.D.’s a mess?”
Tainá smiled at her with a pointed look. “Don’t put words in my mouth; that is not what I said. Though,” She added. “I will say that Robinavitch’s E.D. was a mess.”
“You don’t like him very much, do you?” Baran asked her, remembering their first conversation two days ago.
“I think ' at all’ is a more accurate description,” Tainá told her, not trying to hide her real feelings towards the man.
Nonetheless, as a new attending and a new doctor in the PTMC, Baran did not feel like partaking in this debate about Robinavitch, so she changed subjects. “Can I ask you a rather personal question?”
“Shoot.”
“Why did you switch to night shift? I heard that a year ago you were working the day shift.”
Tainá sighed. “The night’s quiet,” She simply said.
“So, basically, you chose night shift because you’re an introvert?” Baran asked with a teasing smile.
The neurosurgeon playfully glared at her. “What about you?” She asked, sizing the woman up briefly, “You like chaos? Is that why you chose this hellhole?”
Baran smiled at the remarks right as a nurse called for her. “PTMC is different,” She told Tainá as she started walking.
“And is that good or bad?” The neurosurgeon asked, slightly trailing behind the attending as she signed a form.
“It’s different,” Baran repeated with a shrug. “You’ve got one of the most dedicated doctors I have ever seen, but you also have a chaotic Emergency Department.”
“You can’t have your cake and eat it too,” Tainá told her, looking around at the E.D., her brows furrowing as she actually took a moment to take in the chaos around her.
Baran thanked the nurse before looking up at Tainá, who was now quiet. Seeing the frown on her face, she followed the woman’s gaze only to be met with a familiar sight. “You get used to it, eventually.”
“Well, since I don’t have to, I’m going to go back to the O.R.,” The neurosurgeon said, turning back to the attending. “Very nice talking to you, Dr Al-,” She was cut off with a glare. “Baran,” She corrected.
The other woman smiled at that. “You too, Tainá. Good luck on your surgery.”
“And good luck with your habitual mess!” The neurosurgeon exclaimed as she headed towards the elevator.
“Oh, wait!” Baran called after her, motioning for her to come back.
“What is it?” Tainá asked as she followed Baran.
“I brought you lunch, as promised,” The attending said, entering the break room before grabbing something from the fridge.
“Oh,” The neurosurgeon said. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”
Baran smirked at her. “I always follow up, so here,” She said, handing the lunch box to the surgeon. “Now, we’re even.”
Tainá hummed. “It all depends on how good this tastes.” She said, taking the box before giving a smug look to the attending. “Thank you, Bambi!”
Baran watched her go with a laugh before going back to work.
On her way back to the elevator, the neurosurgeon heard her name. She turned in the direction the voice came from, only to see Samira. The two had grown fond of each other over the two years Samira had spent at PTMC.
“Hey, Mirb. What can I do for you?” Tainá asked her, checking her watch briefly.
“Are you busy right now?” Samira asked her, her brown eyes looking sad.
“I have surgery in about twenty minutes, but if you need to talk right now, I can.”
Samira’s shoulders sank a bit. Tainá felt bad. Samira was always the sweetest.
“It’s alright, it can wait,” The R4 told her.
“Listen, some of the night shift, and I are going out in the next few days. I think it’d do you some good to relax outside of the hospital, so how about you come with? We can talk then,” The neurosurgeon told her. Sensing the other woman’s hesitation, she felt the need to bribe her better. “Parker will be there, so will Abbot,” She smirked at that last part.
Samira playfully glared at her. “I’ll consider it and not because of Abbot.”
Tainá smiled at that. “Alright! You have my number, if you need to talk before then, don’t hesitate!”
“I will,” Samira told her as the neurosurgeon went towards the elevator.
The surgery dragged on way more than it should have, and after four hours, Tainá was finally able to take some time for herself. She went to the break room and grabbed the lunch box Baran had given her earlier. She barely had time to enjoy her first bite when her pager beeped; they needed her downstairs.
The neurosurgeon went downstairs, where she was met with Yolanda and other doctors.
“What do we got?” She asked.
“Female, 34, responsive. She fell down the stairs and broke a leg. A few moments ago, she lost all sensation in her legs,” Santos told her, at the foot of the bed, far enough for the patient not to hear.
“Okay,” Tainá nodded, making her way towards the woman. “Hello, ma’am. I’m doctor Parahyba. What’s your name?”
“Melinda Doss,” The woman said, her eyes filling up with tears.
“Nice to meet you, Ms Doss. I was just told you stopped feeling sensation in your legs. Is that right?” She asked, bending down to see the back of the woman’s neck.
“Yes. I feel like it’s going up.”
The whole room froze at that.
“What do you mean by going up?” Tainá asked her, straightening up to watch the woman’s face.
“I could feel a sharp pain in my lower back, and now I can’t feel anything.”
“We need an MRI,” Whitaker said.
“We don’t have time for an MRI, call an attending,” The neurosurgeon said. “Now!” She called when nobody moved. “Melinda, you might have a spinal cord injury.”
“Is that bad?” The woman asked, turning her head as best as she could to look at the surgeon.
“It’s pretty serious, yeah. I have to turn you to the side to see what the problem is and then proceed with the surgery. You’ll need to undergo anaesthesia; the procedure is painful and has some risks, but we need to do it now, or you might not be able to walk again. Do you understand?”
The woman nodded frantically, seeing all the people in the room move around fast and whisper things she could not hear.
“Don’t worry. They’re doing the best they can to give you proper care. I’m going to perform what we call a laminectomy, which is a surgery where we remove part or all of the vertebral bone. This will help ease the pressure on the spinal cord or the nerve roots that may be caused by injury.”
“Am I going to die?”
“You won’t,” Baran told her as she came to stand on the other side of the gurney, looking at the woman with a reassuring smile. “Dr Parahyba is very talented at what she does. She’ll make sure you’ll make it out okay.”
With that, they all got to work. Not being able to do the surgery in the O.R. as she normally should, the neurosurgeon had to rely on people who had never had to deal with neurosurgery, which meant relying mostly on senior doctors like Yolanda and Baran, the other doctors hovering around to help in any way they could, as the three did most of the work.
“Okay,” Tainá said. It was the most she had said in an hour and a half. “We should be good for now, but she needs to go to the O.R. now so I can finish up!” She told them, taking her gloves off before grabbing the phone in the room.
The nurses in the room took care of sending the woman to the O.R. as the doctors in the room took off their protective gear.
“Okay… Thank you, Linda,” Tainá said over the phone before hanging up.
“Was that Dr Conley?” Baran asked her.
“Yes, she’s going to take the case upstairs.”
“That was impressive,” Whitaker told her.
She looked at him for a beat before nodding. “Sure. Let’s see if she makes it out with all functional limbs,” The neurosurgeon told him, leaving the room.
Once out of the room, she released a breath she did not realise she was holding, making a beeline to the bathroom. The cold water on her face helped ease her back in the moment.
As she was drying her face with a paper towel, she heard the bathroom door open. The neurosurgeon looked over, thinking Yolanda was going to be here, only to be met with the attending she had driven home the night before.
“Hey,” The attending said when their eyes met.
“Hi,” Tainá answered, turning to look back at the mirror.
“I know Dr Whitaker already said it, but what you did back there was truly impressive,” Baran told her as she leaned on the bathroom door.
Tainá gave her what seemed like a self-deprecating laugh. “Thank you, Bambi.”
The use of the nickname felt out of place in this context. Baran felt like Tainá was using it as a distraction more than her usual teasing.
“Are you okay?” The attending asked, cocking her head to the side as the neurosurgeon continued to lean on the sink.
Tainá nodded. “I’m fine. Just tired. I had just gotten out of the surgery I told you about earlier, only to come back down to this. Today’s unpredictability just got to me, that’s it.”
Baran nodded, walking closer to the other woman. “I understand, but I think I have a way to cheer you up,” She said with a smile, piquing Tainá’s curiosity.
“And what is that, Bambi?” The neurosurgeon asked with a genuine smile on her lips.
“My Morassa Polo waiting in your break room,” Baran told her.
Tainá laughed. “I can’t lie, the first and only bite I had was delicious,” The woman admitted, standing up straight. “We can call it quits now,” She told the attending with a smile, before leaving the room.
My mom likes to tell me about how when I was a little kid riding public transport with her I'd always smile and giggle and chat with weird old ladies who smelled like cat pee and homeless folks and strangers dressed in bizarre outfits but any time a tidy and respectable businessman in a suit and tie waved at me I'd immediately clam up, and she takes a great deal of pride in my supposed inherentability to clock personalities but the truth is I do vaguely remember those bus rides, and it was never about the clothes or the hair or the smell, but more because everyone "strange" asked interesting questions and listened to what I had to say and seemed to think about what I said while the neat and tidy and rigid folks only ever acted like they were going through the motions, which was boring as hell and also pretty annoying
Well-to-do finance manager with tidy shoes: "Why hello, sweetheart. Can you say 'hi'? Aren't you cute. Are you on a trip with your mom?"
4 year old me: why must we do this
Fantastic old woman in the leopard print coat: "Why yes, my tooth IS real silver! Nobody ever asks me that. Do you like cats?"
4 year old me, suddenly paying attention: Finally, A Person Of Intellect
oooh okay a human claiming an entire group of animals is useless. how novel.. and you think killing them all would do barely anything? that's so interesting! and you believe you're stating truth right? you're not a biologist either? damn... this... this may be a stroke of genius... you're so right... wow...
TWENTY MINUTES BABEY CAN WE HEAR IT FOR TWENTY MINUTES!!

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Absolutely fucking rich that Robby thinks Al-Hashimi can’t handle running the ED because she paused twice when working with kids. My brother in Christ you are on the killing myself world tour right now let’s self reflect maybe
Everyone stop replying this is the best one
just told my mom i was gonna freak it sensitive style and she hyped me up with “ooh quiet down…. quiet down..” while i was dancing
live reenactment
happy almost 80 thousand (?!?!??!?!!) notes to this post. Please stop asking to date my mom she is already married to the grind
I think one of the best and unintentionally funniest worldbuilding aspects in Star Wars is the reasoning of why did Bail and Breha adopt Leia instead of having their own children. Leia is first established as the princess of Alderaan before she is written to be Luke's sister. So now we need to figure out how she got to Alderaan. She was adopted because she needed to be hidden and separated from her brother. Bail was placed there to be one of the only people who knew so there would be a reason why it was them who got her. They specifically wanted a daughter. Why? Because Alderaan is a matriarchal society, so they needed a princess. Why didn't the Queen and her husband have biological children? Because they can't. Why? Because the Queen can't have kids. Why? Because she got injured as a teenager and got her internal organs replaced and her body can't handle a pregnancy. How did she get injured so badly? She fell off of a mountain. How did that happen? She was climbing it. Why was the future Queen climbing a mountain in the first place? Because she needed to go through three challenges in order to inherit the throne and one of them required her to go through something physically impressive. Why? Because before that they just held a Battle Royale for all the heirs and the one left alive got the throne and they at some point figured out that maybe they shouldn't be doing that, actually. Oh, okay.
I am once again reminded of this image
It’s extremely fucked up that some ppl try to make you feel stupid and immature for hoping for a better world. You say you want world peace and mfs think you need a pacifier; dawg, I just don’t want ppl dying from violence. This idea that ppl simply must die as casualties of war is misanthropic to say the least.
Biggest loss of Azula not being in the Legend of Aang was we didn’t get to see her buff and sleeveless like the others and honestly a fumble like that is one that needs to be taught in schools

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not to sound like a crazy sjw but parents putting little girls in frilly dresses/lavish clothes and telling them not to run, climb, play in dirt, etc lest they ruin their outfits or somebody look up their skirts is one of the most direct ways we as a society teach girls that they are only ornamental and cut their childhoods short
persuadable ⪩⪨
baran al hashimi x fem!reader - 2k words - age gap (r is late 20s, baran is 40) - you and baran have been hooking up for a few months, never really going beyond that. one satruday you run into her at your favorite museum, and she has a guest | from this poll |
note: happy pride month gays. love y'all. unhh. (the sound is included in the message.)
Every other week, Kaveh stayed at Baran's house, which meant that every other Saturday, they ended up at the Carnegie Museum of Art.
It was one of Baran's favorite traiditons. The museum itself was stunning on its own, but it was made lovier when a tiny little body was pattering next to her, pointing out this-and-that, talking his little head off with questions, darting around the exhibits while Baran tried to mindfully enjoy it.
everyone’s trying to stump the akinator so i’m gonna try and see if he’ll know that i’m thinking of the little symbol on the front of his turban
come on it hasn’t even been 10 fucking seconds
GOD DAMN IT
i fucking hate this stupid piece of shit genie fuck him i hate him so fucking much
𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 | 𝐛.𝐡
Tags: babysitter!reader, implied insomnia (baran), yearning, fluff, tiny bit of angst, age gap (but no ages mentioned), reader is a college student, the author is (briefly) projecting, petnames, one use of yn
Summary: In the dead of night, you and Baran find momentary solace.
Word count: 2.3k
You're painfully aware of the fragile silence around you, and yet you still can't stop yourself from stifling a curse into the palm of your hand.
"What the ever-loving fuck," you mutter, eyes scanning the document on your laptop. You have four whole pages highlighted in red. Four pages of straight bullshit that your classmate wrote, so neatly—so completely—countering every single point you've made in half your shared essay. A laugh bubbles out of you at the sight. "What the fuck. People don't have fucking eyes anymore."
You feel a near-hysteric panic start to take hold of you, creeping in under your disbelief and silently wrapping tight fingers around your throat. They squeeze, and your mouth parts open for breath.

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met someone the other day who had a mouse problem and thought they'd fix it by getting cats. normal thought process so far right. but they got two Maine coons. and I was like. you got the Lazy Affection Machines? the cats that have hunting.exe uninstalled at the factory to make room for Lårge.dll? nature's answer to the weighted blanket??
I’m p
Yes I’m
Yes hmmms ow
Eh
Tnhk
Tumblr wouldn’t let me upload the video but I let the mice write a tumblr post for me and this is the result :^)
i thought that was just. a regular tumblr post and accepted it