cotton candy water .

[aylindemrci]

❛ 𝙿𝙰𝙻𝙴 𝚂𝙷𝙰𝙳𝙾𝚆 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙳𝚁𝙰𝙶𝙾𝙽 — 𝗠𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗔𝗬𝗟𝗜𝗡 𝗗𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗥𝗖𝗜 . ❜

𝗔 𝗗𝗘𝗣𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗗𝗬 𝗜𝗡 the unreliable narrator, price-gouging a secret's cost to cheapen your own, how an invasive species destabilizes the environment around it in an attempt to find home, penning the narrative of the collective, your life as performance art, your worth trapped up in the opinions and decisions of others, lies, strategy, illusion, and what remains of who you truly are beneath it.

౨ৎ　𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖 𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡.

full name: aylin dilara demirci

age + date of birth: thirty-one, born on november 7, 1994

zodiac sign: scorpio sun, cancer moon, libra rising

gender + pronouns: cis woman ( she/her/hers )

place of birth: windsor bay, oregon

current residence: coral coast

sexuality: homosexual and deeeeeep in the closet heterosexual but get enough liquor in her & she'll kiss a girl !

occupation: manager at poshed & sloshed

faceclaim: bensu soral

positive traits: intuitive, winsome, resolute

negative traits: machiavellian, vindictive, restrained

character inspirations: alison dilaurentis ( pretty little liars ), brooke davis ( one tree hill ), shadowheart ( baldur's gate 3 )

౨ৎ　' 𝗦𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗕𝗬 𝗠𝗬 𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗞 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗬 𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗘. '

great-great-grandparents: murat demirci & selin demirci neé yılmaz great-grandparents: yusuf demirci & nuran demirci neé aksoy

grandparents: metin demirci & aylin demirci neé tekin

parents: yankı demirci & aydan demirci neé sezer ( family 38 ) 

sibling(s): four siblings ( at this time i am headcanoning the birth order as an eldest brother, older set of twins, aylin and then a youngest sister )

cousin(s): leyla demirci.

partner: none.

pet(s): ragdoll cat named marshmallow (3), labradoodle named aslan (5)

౨ৎ　𝗦𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦.

aylin demirci doesn't really know who she is. not really, anyways. it's never mattered much, the personalities she's wanted to try on for size; she slipped right into the roles that demanded to be filled. tucked dead between four other siblings, it was easy for aylin to go forgotten. not intentionally so, but she was a plant that demanded a lot of water, lots of soil, lots and lots of sun. she was a lot, but being A Lot wasn't savory for many, so she instead decided to be everything to everyone. cheerleader, tutor, grand party hostess, salutatorian, humanitarian, your best friend and your worst enemy, a prude and a slut, the girl you were in love with and the girl you wanted to be. being everything to everyone meant that she accumulated stories, secrets, knowledge — and knowledge was power. aylin got a high from it, knowing what was bouncing around in everyone's minds. she'd be whoever you wanted her to be, so long as she got what she wanted, and when she learned she could use it to her advantage? game over. besides, you'd want to return the favor for a friend like aylin demirci, who'd go above and beyond for you at the first heartbeat. being a friend to all meant she really was a friend to none, though. graduation meant leaving behind the little world she'd crafted for herself, and while aylin paved her own way with a smile and steel determination, nowhere was ever able to scratch the same itch of windsor bay. when it came time for her parents to retire and dip out of the family business some 8 odd years ago, none of her other siblings showed any interest in the upkeep of their share — really, they were all content to let it pass over them, let the others buy out their share, let them be free. to aylin, it did not feel like freedom. it felt like taking something laying down, and there was great discontent in that. she uprooted her entire life to come back home and slot into a managerial position at poshed and sloshed, helping to keep books, fulfill orders, and on the rare occasion, slip into a bartending role should staffing come up short one night. by no means is it what she wants to do with her life, but her conditioning has taught her that her wants never come first. they don't even come last. as far as appearances go: aylin's never once said an ill word towards being home, helping run the business that has been in her family since windsor bay's inception. if anything, she's a queen returned back to her kingdom. she is all red lipstick smiles and polite laughs and miss windsor bay, but there's a longing for more that gnaws at her bones, and she's got no fuckin' clue what more could possibly look like.

౨ৎ　 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦.

aylin is my case study into the unreliable narrator: what is true for someone who's entire life, lies are the only way to feel good about herself? aylin is capricious, vindictive, the type of girl to hold a grudge and hold it until it suits her to drop it — if she wore her true colors, she'd be utterly abhorrent. she doesn't, though, because she has learned the art of her little psychological games. half the time she doesn't even realize she's doing it... or, does she? she certainly has her ulterior motives for why she is the way she is. she paints herself in a way that feels real, like she still sees herself as good but allows for the bit of flaw that anyone would see in themselves. maybe you believe her wholeheartedly, or only take her as face value: trust that she, of all people, spins her web so all the threads look like tricks of the light and she maintains the appearance of walking on air. either way, she's such a good manipulator, so utterly calculated and strategic, half the time even she's not sure what's true and what is merely her own creation.

i was really inspired by early brooke davis & alison dilaurentis especially — they're some of my favorite characters on television. i'm at a weird point in my own life where i'm revisiting a lot of high school tropes and thinking a lot about how these "mean girls" came to be & how it looks when that's something you never grow out of. i also think alison dilaurentis's character was tarnished with poor writing ( sasha pieterse i am ur biggest fan ) so consider aylin my years-late exploration on what it looks like when That Girl from high school grows up and comes back to her hometown.

aylin is a dragon. perhaps she is andarna from fourth wing ( i certainly see her as such ) or maybe she's smaug from lord of the rings. idk. depends on the day.

lovingly named after her father's mother, with the albatross hopefully eliciting her likeness in aylin. she could not be further from her grandmother — she is everything that aylin tekin was not & everyone who knew her knows it. or, maybe she is, and it's just a side one of them's kept under lock and key all this time.

there's a little black book that aylin keeps on her at all times, whether it's tucked in her purse or underneath her mattress and box spring, and in it is the collective of every state of affairs she's heard of around town. she keeps dirt on people for when it will benefit her, and aylin's got her hand in so many different pots she's got to keep her stories and timelines straight — a girl's got to keep a ledger of it somewhere!

wears the nazar on a golden chain around her neck and is never seen without it on; superstitions belong to children but some things are, in fact, bigger than her ( a shocking revelation ) and whatever she can do to play to the favor of the universe, she's not considering herself beneath it.

if you've a direct tie to a founding family... well, it's not unheard of for some descendants to find letters in their mailbox from an ana temel that demands burning upon reading. the meetings the letters advertise hold no consistency in their date and time, but aylin keeps the family business alive with her little underground society that she uses to keep the reins tight and nooses tighter. good luck if you ever try to bury her with it.

aylin's not the type to make underhanded comments to snipe at you — she likes to think she's got the difference between a mean girl and a bitch chasing power all figured out. talking shit behind someone's back is juvenile. she knows flies are caught faster with honey than vinegar, and for her muscles' memory, it's easier to lie right to someone's face than whisper in someone's ear what she really thinks. she's sweet 'til she's sour; she'll ride or die for you until you no longer serve her any use. when she's mad, she doesn't lash out. she simmers and waits for the opportunity to strike in a way that it'll hurt most

there's only a small, select handful of people who see through aylin for what she really is ( a manipulative bitch ) and of those few, even less see the front as just that: a front. there's a lot of fear and insecurity that roots her facade in place, but the question is, who's to blame for that? who threatens the very keeper of secrets?

when it comes to numbers, aylin is a fuckin' genius. girlie could accurately do long division in her head in fifth grade. her post-secondary education was an absolute breeze; her finance degree was too easy to complete, so she double majored in philosophy. ( she is Scary to me and i'm the one who dreamed her up lmao ) that said, her number sense is never off, so she's got a great way at making the books at poshed and sloshed look incredibly balanced even if some of it's money she's cleaning for other... less than savory things...

she is so pedantic and rigid that it's actually painful. she is not fluid like water, she's a fucking brick wall. she gets so set in her ways that it's impossible for her to see past herself sometimes.

in a dream world, aylin would ditch her role in the family business, start a nonprofit, marry a woman, and own horses. this is not a dream world.

[brendannichols]

"I feel like inline skating or roller skating is more popular in hell, simply because the ice is impossible to keep in the fiery pits." A soft laugh rang from his lips. Over the years, Aylin had grown to become one of Brendan's closest friends. She understood him in ways that many never would, seeing past all of his trauma and demons and still sticking around anyway. "Not only would we melt, but it would deduct major cool points from my aura if I fell flat on my face or ass."

[aylindemrci]

the words fell off her lips without thinking, the intrusive thought entering the space between them before she could rein it back in. "who do you think's in a roller derby down there?" this was the beauty of her dynamic with brendan — even if he didn't know the full deck she was playing with, he had some semblance of an idea. she'd made peace with that a long time ago, when he snatched her number, and now it gave her a sense of stability she didn't have elsewhere. ironic, that brendan nichols of all goddamn people brought about peace and balance into her life. she pretended to ponder a response to his statement, lips peeling back into a wicked grin. "deduct major cool points? absolutely. it'd do numbers on social media though. who knows, you might even make the top headline on the daily's website." aylin nudged brendan with her elbow, leaning in slightly into his space. "'s that mean you're not up for the challenge?"

[ishowdespair-deactivated2026012]

[gvzel]

BENSU SORAL    |    ELLE MAGAZINE  －  ISSUE NO.O4

[amaraxhawthcrne]

open starter @windsorbaystarters location: the lucerna (new year's eve)

Once outside, Amara pressed her back to the cold brick wall and exhaled, slow and deliberate, like she'd been taught in therapy; nights like this always buzzed too loud, too bright, too much for her. Her breath fogged up immediately, briefly luminous under a street lamp before it vanished. She glanced back over her shoulder, looking through the fogged up window — looking at the party going strong inside. She repeated the exercise a couple more times.

Just when she was about to drop her shoulders and relax, she heard the door opening and instinctively wrapped her arms around her. "Needing a breath of fresh air, too?" Amara smiled softly and stepped to the side.

[aylindemrci]

what a night, new year's eve — tangled in the throes of other people trying to close out their year and ring in a new one, end on the same high note they started on. to aylin, part of it felt tired. the same people in the same town, another year of tangling her fingers around a frayed thread. she was the maker of her own fate, and by that extent, the maker of entertainment to keep stagnancy from setting in. coming out for the evening was a way to maintain perfectly ironed appearances, but she had her ulterior motives: she always did.

grabbing another flute of champagne making the rounds on a tray, she stepped outside for a brief reprieve, a solitary check-in and inventory before dipping back into the madness ( selfishly, she always loved when someone noticed her absence and couldn't resist posing the question of her whereabouts ) . a voice caught in the wind once the door had closed behind her, long straightened hair whipping with the movement of her head in the direction it came from. her lips pressed into a thin smile at the other woman. "something along those lines," aylin replied, filling the space carved out. "you partied out already?"

[aylindemrci]

౨ৎ  closed, with love / jj hayes @jj-hayes ౨ৎ  the location ⦂ farmland fairgrounds

"is mia too big for that?" aylin asked, stopping in her tracks as the patron trap of blinking lights, oversized stuffies and ( the proving of a point to one obnoxious game attendant heckling her three stalls over ) an empty game booth resting on the outskirts of their path. granted, outright buying jj's daughter something would've been the wiser route, but when it came to children, aylin's knowledge surmounted to a zero sum. winning it and giving the spoils of war — also known as the ornament toss — away seemed like a rite of passage. amber eyes were locked on a white snowman wearing a pair of earmuffs and its objective cuteness. "i mean, if she is, i'll just win it as a chew toy for aslan," she countered, feeling the flare of her competitive streak. "but c'mon. you know you wanna try to beat me for it. loser has to buy the next round."

[aylindemrci]

౨ৎ  closed, with love / brendan nichols @brendannichols ౨ৎ  the location ⦂ belmont park

"y'know, i'd suggest we give skating a try, but seeing as how they've yet to implement a rink in our hometown of hell..." arms folded over her chest and surveying the scene in front of her like an outcast observing the social hierarchy — an otherwise uncrowded skating rink, clearly a lull in its peak times — aylin cast a quick glance over towards brendan with one eyebrow already lifted in question. "you think we'd melt it if we stepped foot out there?"

[aylindemrci]

౨ৎ  closed, with love / holiday diaz @holiday-diaz ౨ৎ  the location ⦂ farmland fairgrounds

aylin's breath puffed out in a cloud as she stared upright, an otherwise dark night illuminated by the same carnival lights her childhood had incandesced this time of year. normally, she wasn't the type for tradition — she was more of the active defying sort — but the ferris wheel clawed at a thread of something she could not allow to unravel. summer and winter were bookended by the ferris wheel, a six month survey of how insurmountably small windsor bay actually was and a glimpse of an otherwise eclipsed beauty of her hometown. the opportunity was one she rarely turned down, especially now that she was older and seemed herself constantly looking for a reminder that this was a life she'd not only signed up for, but was okay with. she'd go to her grave before she admitted it, but akin to a child, she couldn't ride the rickety thing alone. it wasn't a fear of heights, but a fear of falling to her death on a ferris wheel that had likely been in operation since electricity's invention. typically one of her siblings or cousins or even a friend's kid could've been swayed to accompany her, but this year, she was a party of one. this wouldn't be the year of facing her fears, either, so between the rock and hard place of her stubbornness, she decided on making a friend. "you need a partner for the ride?" aylin found herself asking the woman standing behind her, hint of a smile curving along her lips as she clocked a lack of company. "the kid operating this thing hasn't shut up about equal weight distribution and i don't think they spiked the cider nearly enough this year to make him remotely tolerable."

[thegirlthatcriesacademia]

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath // art by @/kosmiklia on ig // William Chapman // Virginia Woolf // Brian Andreas // artwork - flowers by Hanna Ilczyszyn // Elizabeth Kinkaid-Ehlers, Still Searching

[aylindmrci]

club opal was far from her favorite in-town haunt, but it did the trick well enough. it was perfect enough a place to people watch, keep her friends close and those she was keeping tabs on even closer — for aylin, it was a boredom stifler, going out. the couch didn't sound as appealing as it did most nights, and at the bare minimum, she knew the drinks wouldn't be horrid. the speakeasy had refined her taste into something acquired and peculiar, but a sweeter drink painted the picture she wanted others to see, so she kept her spot at the bar and ordered specials like they were going out of style. she wasn't even sure at what point in the evening adrian sinclair appeared, like a chintzy magic trick that unfortunately, she and everyone else in the bar had fallen for. everyone else made their moon eyes, whereas she just rolled hers.

"oh, sweetheart," aylin purred, the patronizing pout of rose-red lips only adding to the natural simper. "don't flatter yourself in thinking i'd waste my time stalking you. bigger, better things to do." she reached out, patting adrian on the shoulder before spinning around, belly pressed against the edge of the bartop as she motioned for a bartender.

she was good at pretending she wasn't listening to a word coming out of adrian sinclair's mouth, but her brain was spinning through tape cataloging every word and poking holes to find where to bite down. this was the game they played, and for aylin, it was a fucking field day: whether it was the generations old hum of a little sinclair trouble that the demirci in her loved to stoke the fires of, or just the fact that someone in this town could manage to keep her on her toes, she enjoyed it more than she should. it was a heady rush, the flexing of her metaphorical fingers around his throat. all of it likely some larger-than-life metaphor, but here, under the swath of lights at club opal, it wasn't anything more than aylin playing her most favorite game. the bartender returned with another round of her champagne cocktail, aylin grabbing it by the stem and bringing the glass up to her lips.

"sorry, were you still talking to me?" she asked after a moment, angling her body ever so slightly towards adrian. her lipstick smirk immediately melted into a full-blown smile, something warm and utterly terrifying on all accounts. "i don't think anyone but you is thinking that, adrian — tell me, is this you just verbalizing what you're manifesting? because..." she paused for a moment, eyes raking his frame slow, methodically, calculated. "i'm still trying to figure out if you've even got it in you to be in the wings."

[adriansinclair]

Adrian's laugh was soft, sharp, and entirely unasked for, the kind that slipped out against his will because she always, always hit her mark. Aylin Demirci didn't just play the game, she rewrote the damn rulebook every time she opened her mouth. And she patted him. On the shoulder. Like he was a golden retriever or an intern trying his best.

He tilted his head, watching her with that slow, amused squint he saved for people who managed to surprise him, and people who were dangerous enough to enjoy doing it. "Bigger, better things," he echoed, eyes following the line of her drink down to her hand, then back up again. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

She pretended not to listen, and he pretended not to track every flick of her attention even while she “ignored” him. They were both full of shit and equally delighted about it. But then she turned, angle of her body precise, her smirk melting into that warm, lethal smile. The one that made his heart drop a half-step and then recover with attitude. "Still talking to you?" he repeated with a low scoff. "Sweetheart, if I stopped, you'd notice. Instantly."

Her gaze dragged over him, slow enough to be insulting, thorough enough to be devastating. Adrian held it without flinching, even as something in his chest tightened in a way he'd never admit. Then she delivered the line, if you've even got it in you to be in the wings. He laughed once, low and disbelieving, leaning in until his shoulder brushed hers. "Wings?" he repeated, voice dropping into something smooth and unimpressed. "Aylin, I don't do wings. If I'm anywhere near a stage… I'm center of it."

He lifted his drink when it arrived, turning it lazily between his fingers as he watched her over the rim. "But hey," he added, grin slow and edged, "if you need me to demonstrate where I belong, I can always give you a front-row seat." The challenge in his eyes landed with surgical precision. "Your move, Demirci."

[aylindemrci]

he flattered himself in a way that had aylin choking back her scoff of a laugh. "sweet," was all she managed to comment on the matter. one of these days, a voice taking the same tone of her siblings or cousins rang in her ears, you're going to wind yourself into a situation you can't get yourself out of, aylin. that tongue won't talk you out of everything. but that was the fun of it, she internally argued, the puzzles her brain loved to scramble and put together with every string of syllables, always looking for the exploit. always pressing hard on nerves, waiting for something to shatter underneath her fingertips. little fragments and pieces that could sparkle in her clutches once she swept them up into her pockets, and aylin loved shiny things. she collected them, like her precious secrets and stories and tidbits that she lined her pockets with like kevlar.

"you don't?" aylin echoed, the simper on her face exaggerated. "i thought it'd be quite the becoming look for you. after all, someone who likes to run their little shows down at the lucerna can't exactly stand on stage. we might get bored after awhile."

the lights swirled overhead, garish shades of pink and blue that filtered everything in their monochromatic glow — aylin allowed her body to fully shift in adrian's direction, eyelashes weighted with her mascara fluttering a few times. "tell me something worth my time, sinclair. you know i wheel and deal exclusively in secrets." she lifted her own drink, pressing a lip print into the side of the glass as her eyes trailed up the slope of adrian's throat and up to his eyes, the eye-contact enough to simmer and start throwing rogue embers. if there were ever two in this town set for arson beyond a ford and hawthorne, it'd be adrian sinclair and aylin demirci. "c'mon, i'm sure there's something you could part with in exchange for a dance."

[aylindmrci]

౨ৎ  closed, with love / naina vyas @nainaxvyas ౨ৎ  the location ⦂ corks and wine

poshed & sloshed didn't have competition, as far as aylin was concerned, hence feeling no moral conflict sitting ( skulking ) at corks & wine, wrist circling the stem of an empty wine glass. the normal slicked-back ponytail she often found herself wearing was already loosening from a day's efforts, the wisps falling in her eyes and catching on the ends of her lip gloss. the hoods of aylin's eyes lifted just enough at the sight of naina, a knowing smirk tugging on her lips. "you in the mood to try and guess what i'm going to order next?" she couldn't resist the tease, letting the wine glass rest back on the surface of her table.

[nainaxvyas]

One of the things only a few close people to Naina Vyas knew was that she was known to given out a couple extra tasting glasses to friends and people she considered family. That was just a perk special people in her life got. These ranged from favourite customers, to close neighbors, to people who had welcomed her to town and pretty much anyone she had a good bond with. That included Aylin and so while she rolled her eyes at the other's words about ordering a drink, Naina still humoured her with a smile. "Given that smirk on your face...I'm thinking it'll be a Merlot or Cabernet Sauvignon." Her eyes darted to the few customers being helped by her employees before she looked back at the other girl. "You know right--this isn't a wine bar, that you're ordering drinks." She said those words in a more hushed manner before raising it slightly, "we're just doing a tasting." That was said loudly for the other's benefit; a fact her own employees would tease her about. Because really--what kind of owner gave away so many free bottles of wine.

[aylindemrci]

"tasting. right," aylin echoed, a loose slip of her eye into a wink. naina certainly gave her enough inches that it spanned the distance of a mile, and aylin was certainly the type to keep taking — she at least returned the favor on nights the roles were reversed, and she tipped heartily, so any ill she could've possibly pretended to feel dissipated before it touched her tongue. after all, she liked naina, very few strings rigging that favor. powerful women would always be her achilles heel. she cocked her head to the side as the glass kissed the top of the table once moore, aylin's finger idly circling the rim. "what's the year on that merlot? haven't had a good red in a while."

[aylindmrci]

౨ৎ  closed, with love / yara aslan @yaraaslan ౨ৎ  the location ⦂ yara's home in the mountainside

few people on the face of the planet knew aylin demirci's true colors, as the golden hour in which they were visible only lasted for a matter of seconds. if you weren't standing at exactly the right place in that sliver of a window, you'd miss them, too — a calculated attempt in keeping her armor tougher than the tenderness of the bruised insides ( or what was left of them, anyways, following the severe rot spreading in her chest ). soft would never be used to describe her, and she preferred it that way. but for yara, she would be everything she did not fully understand how to be. aylin still didn't understand if it was the cacophony of her own grief, guilt gnawing on hollow bones, or the small grains of love that slipped through the tight bottleneck, but there was a softly knit cradle around the space in her life yara and emily occupied, as if lylah herself had made before her departure. an early evening off meant she didn't have much to do other than entertain marshmallow and aslan at home with the mindless flickering of channels, so aylin swung through juniper grill with more food than most people could consume in one sitting and let the winding roads take her up to the cabin. sunset was just beginning to bleed out into the color of the sky as she stepped out of the car, heading up to the door and letting her fist graze the wood grain with her usual four-rap knock pattern. "delivery," she said in a sing-song voice upon the door's opening, hopeful smile lighting up across her features.

[yaraaslan]

Yara hadn’t expected anyone that evening. She had just gotten Emily down for her nap after a full day of tantrums, melted crayons, and spilled soup that still lingered faintly in the air, no matter how many windows she’d cracked open. The quiet was rare, nearly sacred at this point; but it didn’t feel disrupted when she heard the knock at the door.

Four raps. Familiar.

Even Yara could use a break from reality, desperately. Just five minutes where the weight on her chest didn’t feel like it was sinking deeper.. At this point, it could’ve been anyone, a neighbor dropping by, someone asking for directions into town, she didn't care.. Honestly, she would welcome it. Anything that didn’t start with why is the sky blue or, worse, when is mommy coming home. Just a regular conversation, something light, something that didn’t tug at the part of her constantly trying not to fall apart.

By the time she moved to open the door, her tired features brightened almost instantly. Aylin. The armful of takeout and a hopeful sort of grin were lifesaving, and she didn't even know it. "Your timing is a gift from God." Yara muttered, the corners of her lips tugging upwards. "Come in, come in. I was this close to losing my mind today."

[aylindemrci]

"c'mon, you know god wouldn't deploy me anywhere," aylin chuckled with an exaggerated wink, feet crossing over the threshold into the house. she'd been in this cabin a numerous amount of times, its contents ever changing even when the shape did not. there was no need to voice an observation about how the space could not fill the void lylah had ripped open in her permanent absence. it was evident to anyone with sight, anyone who could glimpse into the past before grief cast a gauzy smoke into the house and diluted the colors.

aylin was an engineer by trade though, and she would single-handedly clear the air and paint the walls to reflect the light pouring in somehow. if anyone deserved it, it was yara and emily. "busy day?" aylin questioned, her ask tossed half over her shoulder as she stepped through the house as if it were her own, beelining into the kitchen. she deposited both bags onto the counter, nimble fingers untying the knots and opening their contents to individually place things on the counter. "didn't know what you and the munchkin would be in the mood for, so i kinda cleared 'em out of one of everything. there's a caesar salad, that chicken bacon ranch wrap that sometimes tastes like they put a god back there in the kitchen to make it, few sides of french fries, cheeseburger, a little pasta moment..." what bits of the bag she didn't rattle gently swayed thanks to the shape of the breeze, filtering in through an open window.

she spun back around once everything was spread out in front of them, hands nestling on her hips as she surveyed the woman in front of her. something tugged at her insides in a manner that made her feel uneasy, almost nauseous. her lips twitched into a sad smile, before she opened her arms. for others, it may have been an easy thing, but for aylin, it felt like she was moving her bones in an unnatural way. "bring it in," she finally said, fingers motioning for yara to step closer.

[dinhui]

Visit Original Link

[aylindmrci]

౨ৎ  closed, with love / isabella mendoza @isabcllamcndoza ౨ৎ  the location ⦂ somewhere in coral coast

"lanet olsun," aylin swore underneath her breath, adopting the same tone she'd heard countless times huffing from her father and grandmother's throats as she jogged to try and keep up with the sudden burst of energy aslan had miraculously stumbled upon in the last thirty seconds. normally, she was all but pleading and bribing him to pick up the pace so they'd make it home before pitch black. "quit — fuck, as, quit tugging," she said, the words tight and strained between her teeth. a few yards ahead, her sights locked in on what had excited him: another dog. of course. aslan was, without a doubt, the social butterfly amongst them, which meant she was seconds away from either apologizing on his behalf or immersing herself in small talk. pasting the smile on her face, her free hand tugged the cardigan a bit tighter around her chest. the closer they got, she lifted her chin the slightest bit and let her voice carry between the distance that stood in the middle of her and her neighbor. "he's friendly — probably too friendly for his own good, no real concept of stranger danger. if he doesn't need to say hi, i can break his heart. he'll live," she tacked on with a thin laugh, her head tipping in a nod towards the other dog aslan was desperate to say hello to.

[isabcllamcndoza]

Hitting her vape pen, Isabella held onto Spot’s leash as she stared up at the sky and told her dog about her day. It would appear she was talking to herself, but she didn’t care. It helped pass the time as she did in fact have a long shift doing a double in both Upscale and Ink City that she was doing everything she could to keep her energy up.

“And then she had the audacity to say that I had an atti—woah!” Suddenly, she could see Spot excitedly zooming to a newcomer that entered the scene. Holding him back, she then listened to what Aylin had to say and chuckled in response, “Trust, he’s the exact same way.” Loosening her dog’s leash, she permitted him to socialize and said, “No need to break hearts, I can’t say no to a face like that. I fear that dogs are my weakness overall.”

[aylindemrci]

"fortunate for him," aylin replied with a smile, still keeping her grip somewhat tight on aslan's leash to keep him from fully sprinting off ( to what freedom, she'd never understand — she took care of him like he was a prince and he had the audacity to act like the pauper ) . still, he was allowed to get close and sniff to his heart's content before he flopped over on his back, the fully submissive side of him taking all of four seconds to emerge. "he's awfully cute, that's for sure — after this he'll be sending a personalized thank you card for not breaking his heart. he seems to think that's all i'm ever in the business of, the way i deny him ten meals a day." she shot a quick, playfully pointed look down at aslan, who was currently having the time of his life with his newest friend. "your little guy have his own sense of math he expects you to know, too?"

[aylindmrci]

౨ৎ  closed, with love / leyla demirci @leylademirci ౨ৎ  the location ⦂ poshed and sloshed

mornings at the speakeasy were aylin's personal midnights at a grocery store — time felt disjointed, society on the other side of the doors falling away to the dull hum of the electricity in the room. the quiet unsettled her for the most part, which meant one ear was blocked off with a lone airpod, dj x on spotify guiding her through what should have been payroll and figuring out schedules for the upcoming few weeks. instead, playing jenga with a master schedule felt abstract, and she needed tedious: by the time she noticed someone walking into the bar, she was halfway through coat number two of dior's plum parade on her right hand. her sights tipped up, the delighted quirk of her lips at seeing her cousin. "howdy," she called out, dipping the brush back into the bottle. "was beginning to think you'd stood me up — i know you're completely opposed to rummaging in the basement for the umpteenth time."

[leylademirci]

Leyla stepped inside with the same energy she always carried at this hour, like the world was still booting up and she was the only one who'd read the manual. She shut the door with a soft click, the quiet settling over her like an old, familiar coat. Morning at the speakeasy wasn't eerie for her, it was home before the world woke up. And seeing Aylin sitting there with one earbud in and half-painted nails? That was the closest thing Leyla had to a sunrise.

Her eyes dropped immediately to the Dior bottle. "Plum Parade," she said without missing a beat, already judging her from ten feet away. "Second coat. You should be supervised." But the smile on her face made it clear that she wasn't actually annoyed, just stepping into their usual rhythm.

She slung her bag onto the bar and slid onto a stool, elbows braced on the counter like she'd been expected all along. "Howdy?" she echoed, deadpan. "Aylin, if you ever greet me like that again, I'm calling an intervention. I'll bring the elders. They'll pray over you. It'll be a whole thing.” Her eyes flicked toward the basement door, that dark pit of mislabeled boxes, generational secrets, and whatever mystery their great uncle left down there in '94.

"I didn't stand you up," Leyla said, leaning in slightly, voice dropping into its usual low, amused cadence. "I was mentally preparing myself. That basement hates me. It moves things when I'm not looking." She reached out with one finger, lightly tapping Aylin's half-painted hand. "Also, you can't go down there with wet nails. We both know you'll smudge them, get mad, and blame the Ottoman Empire somehow."

Leyla's gaze softened and she added, quieter, "Besides. You know I show up for you. Even for basement duty. Now hurry up. Whatever cursed box we're looking for isn't going to find itself."

[aylindemrci]

"you know, one of these days you'll be wrong, and lightning may strike you where you stand," aylin muttered, mostly to herself. her focus lay on the careful precision of not getting nail polish on the counters — lest she place a generational curse on her own head — but in her peripherals, she tracked leyla across the bar, pressing footsteps into the same rutted paths they'd tracked across the speakeasy for their whole lives and the lives of their families before them. there was a comfort in the predictable, easy relationship she had with her cousin, a comfort she'd take to the grave before verbalizing and one she knew she'd never have to try to string onto a verbal thread. that was the rare glimmer of a demirci's beauty: despite the seclusion and mystery, there would always be a familiar face staring back.

it almost made her sentimental for a family dynamic that she knew at the depths of her ribcage she exploited and leached dry for all it was worth.

a soft noise akin to a scoff snagged in her throat, her eyes circling in a quick roll. "you know the crones are looking for any chance to smite me where i stand — you give them a call and that'll be the last you ever hear of me." she paused, glancing up for her handiwork as her lips pursed. "on second thought, could be fun to be another long lost demirci. then i could haunt them."

"i'm hurrying, i'm hurrying," aylin deflected, her words made contradictory with the slow, methodical stroke of her brush over each nail. "which cursed box is it we're looking for again exactly? you know, just so i can take pictures and make sure to confirm it did not, in fact, move on its own volition." her cousin's sensitivity to the unexplainable of their family's more ironclad secrets and hard-to-explain was, at times, baffling to aylin. she knew it was most likely her own cynicism in the way of seeing the world the way leyla did — she'd gotten just as swept up in the detective work over the years, the two of them enough to put nancy drew far out of business, but the practicality that forced her spine straight often felt like a raincloud over her own head. the only merit it held was that it made her and leyla one hell of a team, the perfect harmony that balanced them into full equivalency. it meant she'd show up for leyla any time, no matter what, no holds barred.

bringing one of her hands up to her lips, she gave her nails a quick blow. "think we'll find another hawthorne thread to pull on today?"

[ssweeneys]

BENSU SORAL

[aylindemrci]