[headtoheels]

#HEADTOHEELS  ⸻  'cause  when  trouble  comes  in  town  and  men  like  me  come  around  /  oh,  my  daddy  said,  "shoot"  .  a  private  ,  dependent  blog  affiliated  with  deervalley,  featuring  GUNES  HEPNER  .  thirty-two  .  EMT  .  rancher  .

intro .  pinterest  .  musings  .

[s1ipns1ide]

for: everyone ( 0/5 cap ) where: the barn nightclub

"sorry about that, last guy ordered fifteen tequila shots for his group," he pauses, lips pursing, "well, at least... i hope for a group. you don't think he'd take all fifteen by himself, right?" ren lets out a breath, shaking his head, "alright, anyway, what can i get you? please don't say tequila shots."

[headtoheels]

“   no  need  to  apologize.   ” she  flashes  him  a  smile,  leaning  back  despite  the  obstructed  view,  certain  that  she'll  somehow  get  a  look  at  the  man  of  the  hour  juggling  fifteen  shots  for  his  table.  “   i  hope  so  too,  because  i  know  whose  duty  it'll  be  to  get  him  to  a  hospital.  ”  she  makes  no  attempt  to  elaborate  beyond  that,  the  comment  clear,  though  laden  with  levity.  “  two  jägerbombs  please. ” because  tonight,  she's  in  the  mood  for  a  heart  attack.

[sercndipiitous]

where: sebastian's home.

when: late at night.

who: günes hepner @headtoheels

with the tone of a known melody coming from the speakers and hummed back in return while dexterous fingers work through shaving the last pieces of chocolate for the dessert, sebastian's attention shifts quickly from the task ahead to the next— the stove currently melting some chocolate for the very last touches of the meal. half of the stuff he had already prepped are half done either cooling down or about to be nearly done. the theme of the night: texas dishes he'd grown up loving. every time the opportunity arose for his neighbor to either come by or have him over, sebastian took it upon himself to not only muster an entire meal for them to share, but themed each one with either a story or whatever movie or tv show the two had decided to watch. this time, however, the chef was aiming for his friend to know him a bit more and in return, hopefully find out more about günes.

"hey, come lick the spoon!" he calls out to his usual visitor for the night, his grin growing slightly as the sound of his friend approaching entered his ear drums. "i have a whole feast for ya so i hope you're hungry. seriously considered making some dr pepper texas sheet cake and everything" sebastian jests as he turned his attention to gunes, a cheeky smirk stretches through his features "but chocolate will have to do for now, my mom wouldn't give me the recipe" he feigns disappointment, handing her the aforementioned spoon, his gaze falling from her face to his labradoodle, pollux, just by the woman's feet. "come on, i'm just gettin' on your cat's good side. if you get home smelling of pol I will once again go down a tier and i can't afford that. the growls are just getting better!" he complains although the light tone in his voice gives his amusement away. "you've been sleepin' good? or do i need to buy a bottle of melatonin for the two of us like two old people? want anything to drink? i got that thing you mentioned last time, it's on the fridge but there's some other stuff, make yourself at home."

[headtoheels]

he's  an  anomaly.  the  exception  to  every  written  rule  that  exists.  she  doesn't  just  let  anyone  in.  she  can't.  it's  violently  impractical.  useless  too.  but  he's  found  her  blind  spot.  or  at  least  tries  to,  piece  by  piece,  meal  by  meal.  it's  bad  that  she  lets  it  happen.  even  worse  that  she  does  nothing  to  stop  it.  “   coming,   ”  güneş  counters,  barely  moving,  her  fingers  still  combing  trough  pol's  fur  when  she  saunters  closer,  hooked  on  the  smell  that's  permeating  through  the  kitchen.  “  don't  play  coy. you  know  that  you're  his  favourite.  he's  never  tried  to  scratch  you.  not  even  once.  it  must  be  because  of  your  names.  he's  nash  and  you're  bash  and  i'm  just  there.  ”  she  trusts  that  cat  more  than  she  trusts  people.  his  intuition  too,  despite  how  ill-tempered  he  can  be  around  most.

“  define  good... ”  because  her  judgment's  always  been  skewed.  “ i  guess  we  can  pop  some  melatonin  gummies,  get  matching  ugly  sweaters  and  sit  on  the  front  porch  until  one  of  us  falls  asleep  first,  like  true  old  folks.  ”  isn't  that  the  worst?  the  notion  that  she  wouldn't  mind  it.  no,  of  course.  the  worst  part  is  that  she'd  love  it.  a  beat  later,  tongue  meets  spoon  in  one  fluid  motion,  making  her  forget  the  very  thing  she  was  about  to  say.  “  this  is  divine,  by  the  way,   ”  she  sighs,  pauses,  reluctantly  lowering  the  spoon  into  the  sink,  no  better  than  a  spoiled  child  who's  just  been  given  spun  sugar.  “ you  got  the  new  cherry  soda?  you  remembered? ”  her  smile  underlines  the  question,  dark  eyes  widening  as  if  to  embellish  her  surprise,  but  instead  of  the  fridge,  she  finds  herself  reaching  to  open  one  of  the  kitchen  cabinets,  somewhat  assured  that  she  knows  where  all  the  plates  are  kept.  “  let  me  set  the  table  at  least.  can't  have  you  doing  all  the  work.   ”

[alkcline]

SETTING:   friday   evening   w/   gunes   hepner   (   @headtoheels   )

AERI   DID   A   QUICK   RUNDOWN   ALONG   THE   LIST,   albeit   short,   of   things   her   friends   were   allergic   to,   before   getting   herself   and   Gunes   something   to   munch   on   that   evening.   Although   she   knew   that   the   last   thing   the   young   EMT   would   need   was   a   warm   cup   of   coffee   as   she   left   her   shift,   sometimes   decaffeinated   drinks   were   a   blessing   to   this   world   —   and   Caroline   an   even   bigger   one   for   serving   those.   Cupholder   in   hand   and   a   to-go   box   on   the   other,   the   short-haired   brunette   waited,   leaning   against   her   car   until   she   spotted   the   other   woman.   ❝   Damn,   sugah…   ❞   She   teased,   whistling   playfully   at   Gunes   and   pushing   herself   off   the   passenger’s   door   to   greet   her.   ❝   Aren't   you   a   sight   for   sore   eyes…   ❞ The   hand   holding   the   sweet   treats   moved   up,   lining   up   to   both   women   eye-level   and   Aeri   smiled   as   she   cocked   her   head   to   the   side.   ❝   Cherry   danish?   Carrie   was   extra   generous   with   the   jam   today.   ❞   In   all   honesty,   Aeri   hoped   they   had   managed   to   secure   a   good   relationship   since   the   accident.   Of   course,   she   was   grateful   for   Gunes   being   on   site   and   helping   save   her   life,   but   she   also   enjoyed   the   other   woman’s   company.   None   of   this   was   still   to   thank   her.   Not   after   four   years   had   passed.   ❝   You   want   a   ride   home?   ❞

[headtoheels]

“  when  it's  coming  from  the  prettiest  girl  in  town  i  know  it  counts, ”   she  deflects  the  compliment  swiftly,  pushing  the  ball  back  to  aeri's  court.  it's  easier  at  least  than  accepting  it.  compliments,  praises,  accolades.  she  knows  where  this  is  leading,  why  aeri's  here.  why  she's  always  plying  her  with  sweets  and  offering  drinks  that  are,  always  somehow,  conveniently  tailored  to  her  liking.  guilt is  a  funny  thing.  sometimes  it  comes  dressed  as  gratitude.

“  you  didn't  have  to  get  me  anything.  really.  blow  a  kiss  to  carrie  the  next  time  you  see  her. ”  direct  and  yet  delicate,  with  everything  that  she  does,  other  than  goodbyes,  she  saunters  to  the  left  side  of  the  car,  barely focused , knowing  already  that  the  only  thing  she  can  say  after  spending the last twelve hours at work  is  yes.

“    why  not,  maybe  i'll  feel  less  alone  this  friday  night  while  everyone's  having  fun,  ” she  tosses  the  joke  like  a  penny  between  them,  a  half  smile  tugging  at  her  lips,  uncertain  if  it'll  land  where  it's  supposed  to,  but  the  last  thing  that  she  desires  from  the  other  is  commiseration.  notably  for  something  that's  downright  her  own  doing.  “  how  have  you  been?  ” 

[snailingmail]

when: sometime in april where: some florist who: barbie & open (1/3)

“Probably not any begonias — reminds me of condolences.” Barbie was prattling on about which flowers to send to her office, and a few sample bouquets to her fiancé’s office when she realized she was not, in fact, talking to her assistant any longer. With pinkening cheeks, she waved a hand in their direction and laughed. “Oh — sorry about that. Though, I didn’t think I could lose my assistant in this small a shop.” She craned her neck and saw no sight of the former intern, and heaved out a sigh. “You don’t look exactly like a floral connoisseur.” Barbie teased, a relaxed smile on otherwise hardened features. “But that might be a blessing in disguise.” She shrugged, recalling all the times she was able to think quick on her feet without a business degree. There was something to be said about the unexpected things in life. “So tell me — purple or red?” She gestured to two equally decadent bouquets, loud and glamorous, quite like her. It wasn’t that she would take her opinion blindly, but rather, it would give her insight to what others maybe expecting from the almost former Whitlock.

[headtoheels]

“   i  happen  to  agree  —  i've  never  liked  begonias.  ”   a  strange  thing  to  admit,  especially  to  a  stranger,  but  she's  always  been  most  fond  of  hydrangeas,  in  the  shades  of  blue,  despite  the  fact  that  they  could  hardly  survive  the  fluctuating  nature  of  the  valley's  strange  winters  and  dry  summers.  “ they're probably  around somewhere,  ”  gunes  says,  playing  along  simply  because  she's  used  to  feigning  interest,  happiness  too,  politeness  only  on  occasion,  but  it's  the  blonde's  following  remark  that  catches  her  so  carelessly  off  guard,  twisting  her  parted  mouth  into  a  frown.  “  well,  red  just  seems  too  predictable.  it's  classic,  of  course.  elegant.  but  purple  has  that  certain  level  of  mystery  that  no  other  colour  does.  i'd  always  go  with  purple.  ”  admittedly,  she's  not  a  connoisseur,  just  like  the  blonde  asserted  only  minutes  ago,  but  she  is  a  performer.  for  a  moment,  she  wonders  if  she'll  buy  it;  the  flowers  along  with  the  act. 

[headtoheels]

✧  ⸻  is  that  HANDE  ERCEL?  no?  that’s  GÜNEŞ  HEPNER?  are  you  sure?  she  has  been  here  for  MOST  OF  HER  LIFE,  and  they  now  live  in  THE  VALLEY.  no  wonder  i  missed  them!  it  seems  that  they  are  also  THIRTY-TWO  and  that  they  work  as  AN  EMT  at  STATION  7.  are  you  telling  me  that  they  are  conscientious  and  compassionate,  but  also  tenacious  and  elusive?  i  guess  it  makes  sense  they  would  remind  people  of  running  until  her  body’s  empty,  hair  sleek;  her  lips  dark  and  cheekbones  high,  wanting  to  be  seen  clearly  or  not  at  all.  now  i  can’t  wait  to  meet  them  !

i.

FULL NAME    GUNES HEPNER   NICKNAMES THOSE FOND OF HER CALL HER NESSA OR SUNNY, DEPENDING ON HOW WELL YOU KNOW HER   DATE  OF  BIRTH    SEPTEMBER 2ND 1993   ZODIAC SIGN VIRGO SUN PISCES MOON  AGE    THIRTY-TWO PLACE  OF  BIRTH  COLORADO SPRINGS, COLORADO  GENDER  AND  PRONOUNS    CIS  WOMAN  &  SHE  /  HER      LANGUAGES   ENGLISH, TURKISH, SOME SPANISH OCCUPATION EMT/PARAMEDIC @ STATION 7, FARM RANCHER EDUCATION AN ASSOCIATE OF SCIENCE / A.A.S. IN EMERGECY MEDICAL SERVICES (EMS)

ii.

HAIR DARK BROWN, THICK, STYLED IN SOFT WAVES, PERFUMED EYES BROWN, WARM AND INVITING, IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO MISS IT HEIGHT 175 CM BUILD LEAN, SHE HAS TO STAY IN SHAPE FOR WORK SCENT COOL, CRISP, SPIKED WITH SOMETHING FLORAL ALLERGIES SLIGHT ALLERGY TO BLACKBERRIES, BUT THAT WON'T STOP HER FROM EATING THEM EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE SCARS A SMALL SCAR ON HER TEMPLE, EARNED IN CHILDHOOD FROM A TREE BRANCH CLOTHING STYLE COWGIRL CHIC WHEN SHE'S OFF DUTY, BUTTON UP SHIRTS AND JEANS, BRIMMED HATS FOR SOME FLAIR ON OCCASION

iii.

MBTI ISFJ — THE DEFENDER POSITIVE TRAITS ADVENTUROUS , CHARISMATIC, COMPASSIONATE, COURAGEOUS, SENTIMENTAL NEGATIVE TRAITS STUBBORN, UNFORTHCOMING, PERFECTIONIST, AVOIDANT PRIMARY VICE PRIDE PRIMARY VIRTUE CHARITY CHARACTER PARALLELS TBA

iv.

MOTHER ZEYNEP HEPNER   FATHER ADEM HEPNER ( ESTRANGED ) SIBLING(S) ONE YOUNGER SISTER CHILDREN NONE OTHER A VARIETY OF PETS THAT SHE KEEPS, MOST FAMOUSLY A GINGER CAT NAMED NASH THAT'S BEEN WITH HER FOR AT LEAST 3 YEARS ( EVEN THE HORSES ARE SCARED OF THE CAT )

the firstborn out of the two hepner girls, with her younger sister trailing after her seven years later. her father named her güneş, after the sun, and her sister yıldız in honor of the stars. that is the tale of the sun and the star. she moved to deer valley when she was only three, retaining only faint flashes of memory of her life in colorado springs. the rest, the real and the raw, would find her elsewhere. like many of their neighbors, the hepners too, owned a ranch, specializing in cattle and horses.

of the two, gunes always held a preference for horses, much like her father, who had shaped a good portion of her childhood. those who remember adem hepner would always tell you that he was a a tough, often flawed father figure. he took many risks, loved fast horses and even faster cars, and through most of his life, remained loyal to his first two loves — adrenaline and cigarettes. he taught gunes how to play cards, blackjack and texas hold 'em, and had instilled a love for vinyl records in his eldest. and then adem hepner walked away. and never looked back. the divorce settlement was quick. painless as some would recall. over in just a week. the rest is dust. both daughters, respectfully fourteen and seven, remained by zeynep's side, attempting their best to keep the ranch alive, or afloat at least.

things moved quickly from there. they didn't just spiral. they galloped. high school graduation, 18th birthday, and years of training and education to become a paramedic. she took every course, got herself a degree, did everything in her power to forget, the past and along with it, everything and everyone that could hurt her again. it was easy, easier than it should've been.

the hepner ranch survived, some would even go so far as to say that it thrived, with added equestrian facilities, becoming a safe haven for horses. the family grew richer, but gunes, unlike her sister, didn't let it get to her head. she knew her duty. her calling too, despite its flaws.

when she isn't rushing to solve the next medical emergency, she's probably somewhere with her trusted horse, or roaming on foot in the valley, familiar even with the steep slopes, like a true phantom. when it gets dark, it's just her and the stars.

as much as she would hate to admit it, or worse, hear someone say it, gunes holds great resemblance to her father. she still loves horses, works as a rancher when she's got the time, just like her father did, drives recklessly ( it comes with the profession ), and is a hard person to get to know, on a personal level. everyone knows her, by name and face, but rare are those who have seen the depths of her soul. which is strange, of course, since she's rather lively, awfully kind, especially with her patients, but there's just something about her that's impossible to catch. now you see her, now you don't. it's an old trick, abracadabra, alakazam. maybe she's just as wild as the lands that raised her.

somewhat of a collector, has special interest in vinyl records, has over at least 200 hundred records, photographs ( her home is decorated with far too many framed photos of her friends and loved ones ), and a jar of pennies for every life that she gets to save.

her pet cat is the meanest cat in town. not really, but he does like to hiss at strangers and keep the horses in check. he's just ginger. he was actually rescued by gunes as a kitten and has lived with her ever since.

[iconsxnjj]

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[kisxmesoft]

[voguefashion]

Christy Turlington photographed by Pamela Hanson for Esquire, November 1997.