Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
barantos decompressing after a longgggg day of work… @_@ (sfw, so much fluff!!!!!!)
they both get home, and trinity can barely function. Baran has to lug her around just to make sure she doesn’t fall asleep without her washing off all the hospital musk . Trinity nearly lets out a whine, just begging for Baran to let her go to bed, that she’s soooooo sleepy and will shower in the morning… and baran just flat out refuses, the mom in her insisting she showers, and that she’ll just throw something in the oven for them to eat and be right there..
So eventually Trinity obliges, stripping her clothes off and discarding them lazily on the floor, certain that Baran will not be happy about it, but too tired to care. It’s only when she already has the water on that she remembers her forgotten towel and change of clothes, slumping herself against the cold shower tiles, hoping Baran will remember them as she dips her head under the stream of hot water.
the shower door is now laced with steam, but Trinity can still spot the unmistakable figure of Baran strutting to the shower, undressing. She hears her complain about her clothes on the floor, saying that there’s a hamper in the washroom for a reason, but there’s no real bite in it. She opens the shower door with a gust of cool air, swallowing Trinity, causing her half-asleep body to shiver as Baran walks in. Cooing reassurances at her, its just me, Trinity. Didn’t mean to make you cold, why are you so far from i’m the water? She questions while ushering her under the stream more so, her hands landing at her shoulders as she rubs her hand into the tender flesh. A groan escapes from Trinity, along with the tension of the day.
She turns to look at Baran, who trails her hands down Trinity’s body until it wraps around her waist, pulling their bodies close together, skin to skin, faces inches apart. Trinity’s heavy eyes meet hers as she questions, how are you not nearly as tired as i am? to which Baran responds with a laugh, tugging and a loose strand of Trinity’s hair as she tucks it behind her ear. Because I wasn’t awake all night studying and consuming caffeine, my love. trinity’s head falls against Baran’s chest, capturing another chuckle from the attending.
As they (as in Baran assisting Trinity) slowly wash and dry themselves, Baran goes to retrieve a pizza from the oven, Trinity lugged over her side as her now slightly less sleepy eyes land on the pizza. Baran, you hate pizza. she frowns, turning to face her. Baran pecks her in the lips, hand coming to cup her cheek briefly before letting go from Trinity entirely, trailing to the fridge. I have leftovers from yesterday, Joonam. But I appreciate the concern.
As the two of them finish eating and eventually make their way to bed, Trinity is slightly more awake, no longer lugging herself around as an accessory of Baran. the two of them reach the bed and Baran makes Trinity wait before getting in, fixing the bedsheets and such before eventually allowing them both to hop into bed.
Trinity instinctively reaches for her phone, to which Baran comes up from behind her, placing her chin on Trinity’s shoulder. That blue light will kill you, Trinity. to which she smiles, a hand snaking to touch any part of her she can awkwardly reach. M’just checking on Huckleberry. He’s going to the farm, just wanted to make sure he made it there safe.
Baran hums, planting her lips against Trinity’s neck and sucking gently. Trinity giggles at that, putting her phone down and turning herself to face her. the two meet in a soft kiss, tenderly exploring each other after a long day. the kiss grows in urgency, Trinity growing more and more sloppy until she feels Baran stilling. She pulls herself back, her expression bewildered as she realizes Baran is drifting into sleep, her eyes heavy as she blinks them quickly.
are you seriously falling asleep right now? she laughs, which causes Baran to laugh as well, the tiredness laced within it. Trinity tugs her closer, allowing Baran to bury her face in her grasp as Trinity draws light circles on Baran’s back, coaxing her into a deeper sleep. Ok, ok.. let’s go to sleep. Trinity mutters quietly, her own eyes tiring again.
And it’s all new for the both of them, Trinity is finally letting herself be cared for in a way she hadn’t ever experienced, and Baran is learning how to find time for herself and what she loves without throwing herself in her work. The two of them work hand in hand to confront their biggest challenges… awwwwww <33333333
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
this might be a slightly controversial approach, but i think baran could have optimization ocd. it's not very well-known or studied because it isn't really ocd, but a pattern of obsessive-compulsive behaviour. it usually gets the label "workaholism" even if it can be life ruining and really fucking intense.
in baran's case, it'd develop in her teenage years. as a child with a deliberating illness, she did not have freedom. she couldn't help with chores, couldn't run outside with other kids. she wasn't allowed to live her life because it was deemed too dangerous.
so when she was a teenager and her seizures became manageable, she got that freedom. she could do and experience things just like anyone else. that triggered a need to do everything "while she still can". she followed through with her mother's failed legacy, graduated med school, worked overseas and in active warzones, got married, had a child. a regular life. but it wasn't enough, nothing ever is.
she has to be in control of herself and the people around her. if she slows down, it feels like she's back in her childhood bedroom, sitting by herself with nothing to do. she thinks she'll lose her job and her husband and her kid if she stops for even a second, because they need to see that she's competent and capable. she's productive and ten steps ahead. she can do whatever she fucking wants and do it better than anyone else.
she goes above and beyond to be perfect at her job. she works long hours, back-to-back shifts, and never stops moving. not when her husband is concerned enough to threaten her with a 302, not when her son has fallen asleep without seeing her for the third night in a row, not when her boss calls a meeting to discuss her insane hours. not when her husband files for divorce. not when she almost loses custody of her son.
she never stops moving.
when one thing doesn't work, she obsesses over the next. she pours everything in her into proving that she can be the ideal mother and good at her job without having to quit either in favour of the other. it runs her down, but it doesn't matter. she can always be better, do better, make everyone see that she's great at everything she does.
when she starts at PTMC, her whole world comes crashing down. she has two seizures within fifteen hours, everything she does is questioned, no one believes she's capable of running the place. the constantly moving train of productivity comes to a sudden stop, and she feels like she's nothing again.
or something like that :)
honestly the intensity can be toned down a notch and turned into more control-based. like the need to be in control of her body at all times because her brain is unpredictable (doing yoga, running, food-prepping, drinking the exact recommended amount of water, taking medication at the same time on the dot every day, no alc, no drgus....). maybe control over sex with whoever she ends up with (coughs trinity so i can tag this with barantos coughs).
my original destination with this line of thought was that getting baran al-hashimi to willingly take a day off or submit is a Big Fucking Deal. because of a sickfic i'm writing. god i love this fucking woman and her stupid brain.
quick question, do people know that trinity having an eating disorder was like, a fully intended part of her past from the get-go or are we still in the hc area of it?
the concept of the pitt only being one work shift per season so they have to reveal crucial pieces of character lore via interviews that aren't even part of their official press junkets
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
let it be said that since this is a new blog, i’m holding out on you. in so many ways. god, just wait until i have free time in my hands and i’m shoving everyone into a blender and blending the shit out of them until they’re smooth, vibrant, freaky angst soup.
i’m a hurt/no comfort warrior through and through :)
let it be said that since this is a new blog, i’m holding out on you. in so many ways. god, just wait until i have free time in my hands and i’m shoving everyone into a blender and blending the shit out of them until they’re smooth, vibrant, freaky angst soup.
i’m a hurt/no comfort warrior through and through :)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
you ask and you shall receive — angst with a side of comfort nicely cut up on a silver platter!
wc: 685
warnings: none
Trinity has no idea how long it’s been, how long she’s been out of it. But, fuck, she can’t– she can’t breathe and the walls of the bathroom are closing in and Donovan Walker is dead because of her, because she wasn’t fast enough, because she didn’t focus enough, because she wasn’t enough– he had kids, for fucks sake. An eleven year old, a six year old, and a baby, and they all had to watch him die right in front of their innocent eyes, in her supposedly blessed hands. He’s dead, gone, away, all because Trinity is having a stupidly fucking horrible day and she can’t focus and–
Shit.
The door isn’t locked.
Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck, fuck–
Trinity scrambles up from the floor, wiping her eyes. She holds her breath so it looks less like she’s panicking, and turns to the sink like she’s just been washing her hands.
But the second her eyes meet a familiar, concerned expression in the reflection of the mirror, the shabby five-second coverup crumbles and her knees buckle. She braces for the impact, hastily grabbing onto the edge of the sink — but she doesn’t fall, doesn’t hit the floor, doesn’t collapse into herself. Instead, strong arms wrap around her midsection and pull her into a hug.
”I’m here,” Baran whispers right next to her ear. ”You can let go, I’m here.”
It feels like hours of Trinity sobbing into Baran’s scrub top, hands gripping the fabric with all her strenght. Baran stands there patiently, tapping a steady rhythm on Trinity’s back, right behind her heart. It helps, somewhat, because Trinity isn’t hyperventilating anymore. But the feelings of despair and disappointment and blatant fear still pulse in her veins, hot and intense.
”It’s okay, sweet girl,” Baran’s voice registers in Trinity’s mind at some point, and she wants to cry even harder because why does Baran have to be so utterly fucking perfect, when Trinity is just a huge fucking mess. It’s not fair.
Nothing is fair.
Life isn’t fair.
What happened to Donovan isn’t fair.
The way she’s thinking about herself isn’t fair— no, that’s not right.
She deserves to be blamed. It was her fault. She didn’t catch the rapidly forming pulmonary embolism fast enough.
Neither did anyone else, though. Neither could anyone else—
Fuck, no, these aren’t her thoughts.
No.
She’s supposed to hate herself for this.
What the hell?
The pure confusion breaks her out of it. The ringing in her ears subsides, leaving her with the hum of air conditioning and the steady sound of Baran’s voice.
”It wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have caught it. None of us did. He was gone before we could do anything,” Baran repeats evenly. Her right hand is cradling the back of Trinity’s head, and the left is still lightly patting her back.
Trinity takes a deep breath, another, and turns to look at Baran.
”I’m sorry,” she whispers hoarsely.
Baran’s eyes snap to her face immediately. She smiles softly, almost sadly, and shakes her head. ”Don’t be. None of it was your fault.”
”No I– I’m sorry for ruining your shirt,” Trinity mumbles and shifts her gaze to the wall behind them.
Baran laughs, moving her arms to squeeze Trinity properly once, and then she lets go. Trinity wishes she hadn’t, but she supposes they both need to get back to work anyway.
God, she’s exhausted.
”How are you feeling? Do you want to go back?” Baran asks, cupping her cheek with one hand.
Trinity frowns. Not really, she wants to say. But does she have a choice? Most likely not.
”Yeah, sure. Let’s get this over with,” she says with as much confidence as she can muster. Baran looks like she doesn’t really believe Trinity, but seems to let it slide — for now, at least.
”Alright, then. I’ll keep an eye on you for the rest of your shift, though, and you better clock out the minute it ends.”
Trinity sighs and rolls her eyes, but deep down she’s glad to have Baran by her side when they walk back to the chaos of the ED.
izzy806
germansingergirl
andulkaphoto
snowghoul
baratheonpilled
areudirty
