everything2go
everything2go
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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What's the best thing that happened to you?
Me: Oh I don't know MAYBE FINDING OUT ABOUT THIS 🙉👇
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(I HAVE NO IDEA IF THIS IS TRUE BUT IF IT IS THIS IS NOW MY FAVORITE EVER) Alex and Pierre in Turkey 2021 chef kiss
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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The Secret Love in the Paddock
Lando Norris had always been known for his cheeky personality and mischievous smile, but there was one thing he kept hidden from the public eye: his secret relationship with Aylin Aydoğan, the adoptive sister of the Leclerc brothers. They had been together for months, sneaking around, their moments of bliss stolen between races. It wasn’t that they didn’t want the world to know—they were in love, after all. But there was one problem: the overprotective Leclerc brothers.
Charles, Arthur, and Enzo were fiercely protective of Aylin, especially after their parents adopted her. Aylin had gone through a lot in her life, and her brothers viewed her as their little sister. They didn’t want any distractions, let alone a Formula 1 driver with a reputation for being a bit of a troublemaker.
Still, Lando and Aylin made it work. They communicated in secret, sneaking around the paddock or getting a few stolen moments after races when no one was looking. But fate had other plans.
---
It all started on a quiet Sunday afternoon, just before the race weekend started. The paparazzi had been hanging around the paddock, hoping for a glimpse of some juicy gossip. Little did they know, they would get much more than they bargained for.
Lando and Aylin were sitting together in a quiet corner of the team’s hospitality area, a rare moment of peace before the chaos of the weekend. Aylin was wearing a casual hoodie and jeans, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief as she laughed at something Lando had said. They didn’t notice the camera lens peeking from behind a banner, capturing a moment that would change everything.
The picture was out before they could even think to hide it. The headline read, “Formula 1 Driver and Mysterious Woman: Secret Romance Revealed?” and the image of Lando and Aylin laughing together, their faces close, was all over social media within minutes.
---
It didn’t take long for the Leclerc brothers to find out. Charles was the first to see the picture and his face turned crimson with anger.
“Who the hell is that?” he muttered under his breath as he scrolled through the social media post. He immediately called Arthur and Enzo over, showing them the picture.
“What is she doing with him?” Arthur said, his voice rising. “Is she dating that—Lando?”
“Unbelievable,” Enzo grumbled, shaking his head in disbelief. “She knows better. We told her—”
Charles was already on the move, marching out of the hospitality area with a determined look in his eyes. Arthur and Enzo were close behind him, their expressions dark with the kind of protective fury only older brothers could have.
---
Lando was enjoying a rare moment of peace before the race when he heard footsteps approaching from behind. The sound of hurried, almost angry footsteps. He turned around, only to see Charles, Arthur, and Enzo Leclerc storming toward him. His stomach dropped.
“Uh-oh,” Lando muttered to himself, realizing what was about to happen.
Charles reached him first, his voice low but menacing. “What the hell do you think you’re doing with my sister?”
“Hey, Charles, chill out, alright?” Lando raised his hands defensively, trying to keep the situation light. But it was clear Charles wasn’t having any of it.
“We told you not to get involved with her,” Arthur added, his tone cold as ice. “And now you’re sneaking around behind our backs? You think we’re going to let this slide?”
Lando took a step back, his mind racing for an escape plan. “It’s not like that,” he said quickly. “We—uh, we just—”
Before he could finish, Enzo, always the most hot-headed of the three, stepped forward, practically glaring at Lando. “You’re a driver, Lando! You’re a target for the media, for the paparazzi! She deserves better than someone like you!”
Lando felt his heart racing. He knew the Leclerc brothers had always been protective, but this was getting out of hand. Without thinking, he spun on his heel and took off running, hoping to lose them in the busy paddock.
---
The chase through the paddock was chaotic. Lando darted between teams, ducking behind trucks and tents, trying to evade the three furious Leclerc brothers. He could hear their footsteps behind him, gaining ground with every second.
“Lando, get back here!” Charles shouted, his voice echoing through the paddock.
“Run faster, mate!” Arthur teased, even though he was dead serious about catching him.
Lando’s adrenaline kicked into overdrive as he dodged a group of photographers. The Leclerc brothers were relentless, and there was no escaping them—not in this tight maze of the paddock.
Behind him, the other drivers and team members were starting to take notice. Max Verstappen chuckled as Lando ran past, shaking his head. “I’ll give him 10 seconds before they catch him.”
“Poor Lando,” joked George Russell, leaning against a barrier and watching the spectacle unfold. “Looks like he’s in trouble.”
“Should we help him?” asked Pierre Gasly, his voice laced with amusement.
“Nah,” replied Carlos Sainz, his grin wide. “This is better than any race. Let’s just enjoy the show.”
The paddock was alive with gossip, and soon every driver was watching the chase unfold. Lando was in full sprint, his face red and his breathing heavy, as he darted around, trying to lose the Leclerc brothers.
But no matter how fast he ran, they were always just a step behind.
---
Finally, Lando found himself cornered by the three brothers near the entrance of the track. He stopped dead in his tracks, breathing heavily, realizing he had nowhere to go.
Charles, Arthur, and Enzo stood in front of him, their arms crossed, looking like a trio of angry bodyguards. Lando tried to catch his breath, giving them an apologetic smile.
“You guys… really need to lay off,” Lando said, attempting to lighten the mood. But his smile faltered when he saw the serious expressions on their faces.
“You really think we’re going to let you date her?” Arthur asked, shaking his head. “Not happening, Norris.”
“Not unless you’re ready to face the consequences,” Enzo added, his voice firm.
Lando sighed, realizing this was going to be a battle he wasn’t going to win in the paddock. “Look, I care about her, alright? I’d never do anything to hurt her.”
Charles looked at Lando for a moment, his expression softening slightly. “You better not,” he warned. “If you hurt her, we’ll come after you.”
Lando nodded, relieved that Charles wasn’t going to murder him on the spot. “I won’t,” he promised, looking at Aylin’s three overprotective brothers. “I care about her more than anything.”
The Leclerc brothers exchanged looks before nodding in unison. “Fine,” Charles said, but his tone was still serious. “But if you hurt her, you’ll have to answer to us.”
Lando chuckled nervously. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
---
The drivers all gathered to watch as the tension started to ease. Lando’s face was still red from running, and the Leclerc brothers were no longer chasing him. But the moment had exposed the secret everyone had been trying to hide, and the paddock would never be the same.
And as for Lando and Aylin? They might have been outed, but their love was strong enough to withstand the scrutiny.
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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Ego and Obsession
Wanna read more on my Wattpad: EKthereader you can read more
Chapter 15: The Breaking Point
The race was intense. The final laps had been a blur of high-speed straights and sharp corners, the sound of the engines roaring in the backdrop of the packed grandstands. Lando was on the edge. This was his chance. He could feel the win within his reach. The finish line was almost there, and he could already picture himself crossing it, fist raised in victory, the cheers of the crowd ringing in his ears.
But then, just as he thought he had it in the bag, she appeared.
Cemre’s Red Bull surged ahead in the final corner, catching Lando off guard. The way she maneuvered, the precision in her moves, it was like she knew exactly what he was thinking. She passed him—just as he was about to cross the line. In a split second, Cemre's car swept past his, her Red Bull’s engine screaming as she claimed P1, crossing the finish line just ahead of him.
Lando’s heart dropped. He could hardly believe what had just happened. No... she didn’t...
His hands tightened around the steering wheel as he watched her car, far too close to his, disappear into the distance. The victory he had been so sure of now felt like a distant dream. All that was left was the bitter taste of defeat.
---
The cooldown lap felt like it lasted an eternity. Lando was shaking with anger, his chest tight. How dare she?
By the time he parked his car and stepped out, the anger inside him had consumed every last ounce of calm. His hands were still gripping the helmet in a white-knuckled fury, his jaw clenched so tight he could feel his teeth grinding.
He didn’t care about the fans. He didn’t care about the media. All he cared about was the woman who had just stolen his victory. The woman who was too damn good, who made him feel like everything he worked for—everything he was—wasn’t enough.
Without thinking, he marched toward the Red Bull garage, his eyes locked onto Cemre, who had just finished her own celebrations with her team. The crowd was buzzing, but it felt like the world had quieted to a dull roar in Lando’s mind.
He didn’t even notice the photographers snapping photos, or the murmurs from the nearby engineers and team members. All he could see was her—standing there, so damn cool and calm, as if she hadn’t just done the one thing he couldn’t let happen.
She stole my win.
Lando was already a few steps away from her when he raised his helmet, his fingers gripping it tight. His breathing was shallow, his vision narrowing. He had never been this angry in his life. This wasn’t just about the race. It wasn’t just about the position or the points. It was about her taking something from him—something he felt was rightfully his.
The moment he reached her, he let the helmet fly from his hand.
Cemre didn’t see it coming.
The helmet sailed through the air with speed and precision, its trajectory aimed straight at her. But in that split second, Cemre did the one thing that saved her—she took a single, graceful step to the right.
The helmet flew past her, just missing her head by mere inches. Lando’s heart skipped a beat as he watched it hurtle past her, the sound of it skimming the air like an arrow. It crashed into the concrete behind her with a loud thud, the impact echoing through the garage.
For a moment, everything stood still. The world seemed to pause, the crowd silencing itself in a mix of shock and disbelief.
Cemre didn’t flinch. She didn’t scream. She just turned slowly to face him, her expression unreadable.
Lando’s chest was heaving, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. His hands were still clenched, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He was furious—fury that was bubbling over, spilling out, and it didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t thinking about the consequences. He wasn’t thinking about anything except the fact that she had just stolen his chance at victory.
"You think you’re better than me?" Lando’s voice was a low growl, and there was venom in every word. His fists clenched tighter, his knuckles white against the anger that had taken over.
Cemre’s face didn’t change. Her eyes, calm and steady, locked with his. There was no fear in her gaze. No hint of retreat.
"I’m not interested in your drama, Lando," Cemre said coolly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. Her calmness only made him feel more unhinged. "If you want to keep playing these games, go ahead. But I’m focused on racing, not your tantrums."
Lando’s fists tightened further, his body shaking with rage. He could feel the heat of the moment getting to him, could feel how out of control he was. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t how he usually acted. But the more he looked at her—the way she stood there, so composed, like she didn’t even care about the battle they had—something inside him snapped.
"You always think you’re so above it all, don’t you?" he spat, his voice trembling with fury. "You think you’re better than me, and you don’t even care that I’m still fighting for a place here. I’m not going anywhere, Cemre. You’re not the only one who can fight for this!"
Cemre didn’t move an inch. She stared at him, her gaze unwavering, as if everything he said didn’t even register. She stepped to the side, just slightly, and with a quiet sigh, she spoke.
"Look at yourself," she said, her tone steady but firm. "This isn’t about the race anymore. It’s about your ego. You need to check yourself before you make a bigger fool of yourself. I don’t have time for this."
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Lando standing there, fuming with anger, frustration, and the sinking realization that the more he fought for her attention, the further she seemed to slip away.
The crowd had grown quiet. Lando could hear the murmurs behind him, the whispers of disbelief. But none of it mattered anymore. He was alone in his rage, and he had no idea how to fix it.
---
Chapter 16: The Weight of the Past
The aftermath of what happened in the garage had been immediate, the media frenzy an explosion of headlines that Lando couldn’t escape. It wasn’t just about the race anymore. It was about his actions—his anger, his reckless behavior—and how it had unfolded in front of the entire paddock.
The photos were everywhere: the helmet flying through the air, narrowly missing Cemre’s head, the cold confrontation, the fiery exchange between the two. The world had seen it all. The press wasted no time, painting him as the villain. The jealousy, the tantrum, the uncontrollable rage—it was all out in the open now.
But there was one detail that caught his eye more than the others.
"Lando Norris’ Outburst: Jealousy or Rivalry?"
The headline seemed to burn into his mind as he sat in his hotel room, reading through the various reports and commentary. Some of the articles speculated that his jealousy had been about the race, about the competition. But there were whispers that his frustration ran much deeper. They even referenced his complicated relationship with Cemre.
It made Lando’s skin crawl, the realization that everything he had done—everything that had built up to this moment—was out there for the world to dissect.
---
As the day wore on, Lando couldn’t escape the media storm. He tried to turn off his phone, but it buzzed relentlessly with notifications, messages from teammates, team principals, and even old friends. But it was one message from his mother that made him stop in his tracks.
"I know you’re upset, Lando, but don’t let your ego drive you like this. Think about it. Think about the past. You’ve always had a way of pushing people away, especially Cemre."
The words hit him like a punch to the gut.
He didn’t want to think about the past. He didn’t want to remember what he had done to her. But the more he tried to push it aside, the more memories came rushing back—memories that he had buried deep down, locked away in the darkest corners of his mind.
---
It started in kindergarten.
Lando remembered how he had always been the class clown, the one who loved the attention, the one who couldn’t stand anyone else getting too close to her. Cemre had always been different from the other kids. She was clever, serious—so serious, even back then. He had noticed her early on, how she would sit alone, her nose buried in a book, her brown eyes always so focused. He had wanted her attention. He had wanted to be the one who stood out in her eyes.
And then, one day, he overheard her talking to a friend. She had a crush on his best friend, Charlie.
Lando couldn’t stand it. Why not him? Why wasn’t it him? He had been the one who always made everyone laugh, always kept people entertained. But Cemre? She hadn’t looked at him the way she looked at Charlie. It made his stomach twist with jealousy. So, without thinking—without caring about the consequences—he had blurted it out to the entire class.
“Guess what?” Lando had said, smugly, to everyone around him. “Cemre likes Charlie! She has a crush on him! She’s totally into him.”
He had laughed as the other kids turned to stare at Cemre, who had flushed red, embarrassed beyond belief. She had avoided him for days after that, and Lando had felt a twisted sense of satisfaction in knowing that she was upset.
He had won. He had forced her to look at him, even if it was through humiliation.
---
As they grew older, Lando’s behavior only worsened. In elementary school, Lando continued to play the same game. Whenever he saw Cemre getting close to any of the other kids, he did whatever he could to drive them apart. He would spread rumors, tell lies, twist the truth—anything to make her feel like she had nowhere else to go but to look at him. To need him.
He didn’t care if he made her miserable. As long as he was the one she relied on, the one who had her attention, his ego was satisfied.
When they moved into middle school, things escalated. Lando had grown more popular, more outgoing. He had people around him, a group of friends who looked up to him. And there was Cemre, still that serious, clever girl who didn’t care about popularity or fitting in. She didn’t seek attention. She didn’t need it.
Lando had hated that. He didn’t want anyone else to get close to her, to take her away from him. And so, he did everything he could to isolate her. He spread more rumors, turned people against her, made sure that anyone who might have become her friend would eventually see her as someone they couldn’t trust.
She had to need him. He convinced himself it was for her own good. She didn’t belong with those people, not when she could be with him.
---
In high school, his manipulation continued, but it wasn’t just about isolating her anymore. Lando’s jealousy had turned into something darker, something more possessive. He would make sure she knew that no one else could stand in his way. He would flirt with other girls just to make her notice. He would do anything to get under her skin—to remind her that he was the one who was supposed to matter in her life.
And then came karting. He could still remember those days like it was yesterday—when the two of them were just teenagers, battling it out on the track. But even then, Lando’s need to be the center of her world didn’t stop. He made sure everyone on the track knew not to like her, not to support her. Every time she made a move to get better, he made sure to push her down.
Her success couldn’t be greater than his. Her victories were a threat to his ego. He couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else—least of all her—being better than him.
---
Lando’s hands trembled as he stared at the message from his mom. He had built his entire life around this need for attention, this obsession with being the best, being the one that people looked to. But now, as he thought about it—about how he had torn apart every connection she tried to make—he couldn’t escape the reality of his actions.
Cemre had never been a rival.
She had always been someone he wanted to possess. Someone he wanted to break just to make himself feel better.
---
And now, seeing her friendship with George and Oscar, Lando couldn’t bear it. They weren’t just friends to her. They were the ones who understood her, the ones who could see her for who she really was.
But Lando?
Lando had spent years making sure she didn’t see anyone else.
And now, as he stared at his phone, he knew there was no going back. The damage was done. He had hurt her beyond measure, and there was no way to fix it.
---
How does this emotional depth feel for Lando’s reflection on his past actions?
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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Ich glaube, diese Geschichte würde dir gefallen " Racing Against the Odds " von EKthereader auf Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/story/391202467?utm_source=android&utm_medium=com.tumblr&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=EKthereader
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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Racing Against the Odds
A Fanfiction by everything2go
---
Chapter 1: The Breakthrough
Leyla Demir stood at the starting grid of the Bahrain Grand Prix, her heart pounding against her ribcage. The hum of the engines around her sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. She was no stranger to racing, no stranger to defying expectations—but this? This was history in the making.
The first-ever female Turkish driver in Formula 1.
Her hands tightened around the steering wheel of her Haas VF-23. The past year had been a whirlwind—dominating in Formula 2, securing her Super License, and then, against all odds, signing with Haas as their second driver alongside Kevin Magnussen. The world had doubted her. The media questioned whether she had the grit, the skill, the resilience to withstand the ruthless world of F1.
She was here to prove them all wrong.
“Radio check,” her race engineer, James, called through the comms.
“Loud and clear,” Leyla replied, exhaling steadily.
Gene Haas himself had taken a gamble on her. The team had struggled in the midfield, constantly overshadowed by bigger names. But they saw something in her—her calculated aggression, her fearless overtakes, and her relentless pursuit of speed.
Now, it was time to deliver.
---
Chapter 2: The Race Begins
Lights out, and the 2023 season was underway.
Leyla reacted instantly, nailing the start as she darted between cars, her instincts razor-sharp. She squeezed past an Alpine, then found herself wheel-to-wheel with Yuki Tsunoda’s AlphaTauri.
“Nice move, Leyla! Keep pushing!” James encouraged over the radio.
By Lap 10, she had climbed into P12. The Haas wasn’t the fastest car on the grid, but she made it dance on the limit. Every corner was a test of precision, every DRS zone an opportunity.
She was battling Valtteri Bottas when the moment came.
The team called for an undercut strategy. She boxed, trusting them completely. The pit stop was flawless—2.4 seconds. As she rejoined the track, she found herself side-by-side with Bottas once again, only this time, she had warmer tires.
She sent it down the inside at Turn 4.
“P10, Leyla! Points on debut if we hold this!”
Her grip on the wheel tightened. She wasn’t just here to participate. She was here to fight.
---
Chapter 3: Making History
Final lap. P10 was hers, but Lando Norris was breathing down her neck.
“Focus, keep it clean,” James urged.
She blocked every attempt, placing her car perfectly through each turn. The checkered flag waved.
She crossed the line.
“YES, LEYLA! P10! YOU DID IT!”
Tears pricked her eyes as she let out a triumphant scream. The first Turkish woman in F1, and she had scored a point on debut. The paddock erupted in applause as she pulled into Parc Fermé.
As she stepped out of her car, draping the Turkish flag over her shoulders, she looked up at the crowd.
This was just the beginning.
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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Racing Against the Odds
A Fanfiction by everything2go
---
Chapter 4: The Aftermath
The moment Leyla stepped out of her car, the roar of the crowd nearly drowned out her own thoughts. The Turkish flag wrapped around her shoulders felt like armor—proof that she had shattered yet another barrier. Cameras flashed, and her Haas crew cheered as she climbed onto the car, pumping her fist in victory.
Kevin Magnussen was the first to greet her, clapping her on the back. “Damn good racing out there, Demir. You’ve got guts.”
She grinned, chest still rising and falling rapidly. “And this is just the first race.”
Guenther Steiner, Haas' team principal, pulled her into a quick hug before stepping back, his usual blunt tone softened. “You proved a lot of people wrong today. This team needed a fighter, and we got one.”
As the reporters swarmed her, she took a deep breath. She had faced media pressure before—countless interviews questioning whether a woman could handle the brutality of F1. Whether a Turkish driver could rise through the ranks without billionaire backing.
She had let her driving do the talking.
---
Chapter 5: The Headlines and the Haters
The world had taken notice.
"Leyla Demir: The Trailblazer F1 Has Been Waiting For"
"Haas Rookie Scores Points on Debut – A New Star in the Making?"
"History in Bahrain: Turkey’s First F1 Driver Breaks Barriers"
Social media exploded with support from Turkish fans, motorsport enthusiasts, and even veteran drivers. Lewis Hamilton, always an advocate for diversity in the sport, tweeted:
"Incredible debut from Leyla Demir. This is what progress looks like. Keep pushing!"
But, of course, not everyone was thrilled.
Online critics claimed it was luck. That her point was only possible due to other drivers’ misfortunes. That she was just a diversity hire, not a true competitor.
Sitting in her hotel room that night, scrolling through the comments, she exhaled sharply. It didn’t matter what they thought. She had earned her seat.
A message popped up on her phone from her father:
"Seninle gurur duyuyorum kızım. (I’m proud of you, my daughter.)"
She smiled. That was all that mattered.
---
Chapter 6: Battle at Jeddah
Two weeks later, under the neon glow of Jeddah’s street circuit, Leyla strapped into her Haas once more. She had silenced doubters in Bahrain—now it was time to prove she wasn’t a one-hit wonder.
Qualifying had been brutal. The Jeddah Corniche Circuit was unforgiving, a high-speed maze where the walls felt inches away. She had pushed her car to the limit, securing P12—another step forward.
As the race began, she felt the adrenaline flood her veins. She defended fiercely against Esteban Ocon, then made a bold move on Zhou Guanyu into Turn 1.
Her radio crackled. “P9, Leyla. Keep your head down.”
But trouble was brewing. Lap 37—she was running eighth when Carlos Sainz’s Ferrari suddenly cut across her line. A snap of oversteer, and she barely managed to avoid the barriers.
“Did you see that?!” she yelled into the radio.
“Yeah, that was close. Keep going!”
She fought tooth and nail until the checkered flag, finishing P9—two points in her second race.
As she stepped out of the car, Turkish flags waved in the stands. The paddock was starting to take her seriously.
And she was just getting started.
---
Chapter 7: The Season of Proving Them Wrong
Race by race, she fought. Miami—P7 in a chaotic wet-to-dry race. Silverstone—an epic duel with Fernando Alonso. Monza—a breathtaking double overtake on the Alpines down the straight.
With every result, Haas climbed the standings. No longer just a backmarker team, they were in the midfield fight, and Leyla was leading the charge.
The doubters grew quieter.
The support grew louder.
She was no longer just "the first female Turkish F1 driver."
She was a racer.
And she was here to stay.
---
TO BE CONTINUED...
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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Title: The Unspoken Affection
Lando Norris sat on the edge of the team’s motorhome, his eyes trailing absentmindedly over the garage. He was supposed to be gearing up for a debriefing, but his mind had wandered, as it often did when he was in the presence of her.
Meryem.
Oscar Piastri's PR manager. She was always in the background, moving swiftly, commanding the room with a quiet confidence. Brown straight hair, brown eyes that never seemed to look at him the way he wanted, and those glasses that made her appear all the more professional. She was the embodiment of seriousness — nothing like the bright, carefree energy he exuded. Yet, somehow, she captivated him in a way he couldn’t explain.
Every glance she gave, every sentence she spoke, had a thousand unspoken meanings. But those meanings never seemed to include him.
"Earth to Lando," a voice pulled him from his thoughts. He blinked and looked over at his teammate, Oscar, who was smiling with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"Sorry, mate. Just... thinking."
"About Meryem again?" Oscar teased, leaning against the wall with a knowing smirk.
Lando’s face flushed, but he tried to play it cool. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."
Oscar laughed and shook his head. "She doesn’t look at you the same way, Lando. I mean, she’s not interested."
Lando didn’t need to hear it again. He’d known it from the start, but the words still stung a little. Meryem was always so focused, so absorbed in her job. She was nothing like the casual flirts he was used to; she had a sense of purpose that was hard to break through. She was a professional — and he, well, he was just a driver.
Lando thought back to the few moments they had exchanged words. The way she’d always addressed him with respect, her tone neutral, yet polite. He wanted more. But he knew better than to chase something that wasn’t meant to be.
Oscar’s voice interrupted his thoughts again. "You know, if you want to talk to her more, maybe don’t stare from across the room."
"Shut up, Oscar," Lando muttered, pushing himself off the seat and standing up. "I’ve got a meeting."
Meryem was in the midst of organizing schedules, tapping away at her phone, her brow furrowed in concentration. Lando hesitated by the door, watching her. He knew she wouldn’t give him the time of day if he tried to engage her on a personal level. She was far too focused on her work, far too serious.
"Meryem," he called out, his voice tentative.
She glanced up from her screen, her expression unreadable. "Yes, Lando?"
For a second, Lando forgot what he was going to say. Her direct gaze always threw him off, and the soft but firm way she spoke made him wonder why he even tried. She was never going to see him the way he wanted.
"I was... uh, just wondering about the press schedule for tomorrow," he said, his voice trailing off awkwardly.
Meryem didn’t seem to notice his discomfort. "It’s all set. You’ll be on at 10 AM sharp, followed by Oscar," she said, her tone professional as ever. "If you need anything else, let me know."
That was it. No lingering gaze. No small smile. Just a matter-of-fact response.
Lando nodded, his heart sinking a little. "Thanks, Meryem," he managed to say before walking away, pretending to be focused on the meeting ahead.
As he left the motorhome, Oscar was waiting by the door with a sly grin. "See? What did I tell you?"
Lando sighed. "You were right."
Oscar raised an eyebrow. "You know, there's always the possibility that Meryem is just... well, focused on her job."
Lando smiled a little, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Yeah, I guess so."
He didn’t mind the way she didn’t look at him. He respected her dedication, her professionalism. He just wished she’d see him in the same light — as something more than just another driver.
But as the days passed, Lando realized that he didn’t need her to feel the same way. Maybe it was enough just to appreciate her from afar, even if she didn’t know. Even if it was one-sided.
Meryem never looked at him the way he wanted. But that was alright. Lando wasn’t in love with the idea of her. He was in love with the person she was — serious, smart, and focused on something she cared about deeply.
Maybe one day, in another lifetime, the circumstances would be different. But for now, Lando would content himself with his quiet, unspoken affection for Meryem.
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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HELLLLOOOOO EVERYONE,
So "Racing Against the Odds" is out Capter 1-3 on my Wattpad account EKthereader and "Rhythm of the Shadow" Chapter 25 + 26 is also out and pls I would be happy for some comments and likes pls don't be a silent reader🥲
Thanks and have a good day/night
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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HIIIIII GUYS
If you want to read "racing against the odds" I will be dropping it on Wattpad and the updates will be faster there and I will be dropping it most likely on Friday or Tomorrow maybe today but it's really late now so who knows and I would be very happy for some comments I like reading them 😅
Thanks and byeeeee
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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Racing Against the Odds
A Fanfiction by everything2go
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Chapter 1: The Breakthrough
Leyla Demir stood at the starting grid of the Bahrain Grand Prix, her heart pounding against her ribcage. The hum of the engines around her sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. She was no stranger to racing, no stranger to defying expectations—but this? This was history in the making.
The first-ever female Turkish driver in Formula 1.
Her hands tightened around the steering wheel of her Haas VF-23. The past year had been a whirlwind—dominating in Formula 2, securing her Super License, and then, against all odds, signing with Haas as their second driver alongside Kevin Magnussen. The world had doubted her. The media questioned whether she had the grit, the skill, the resilience to withstand the ruthless world of F1.
She was here to prove them all wrong.
“Radio check,” her race engineer, James, called through the comms.
“Loud and clear,” Leyla replied, exhaling steadily.
Gene Haas himself had taken a gamble on her. The team had struggled in the midfield, constantly overshadowed by bigger names. But they saw something in her—her calculated aggression, her fearless overtakes, and her relentless pursuit of speed.
Now, it was time to deliver.
---
Chapter 2: The Race Begins
Lights out, and the 2023 season was underway.
Leyla reacted instantly, nailing the start as she darted between cars, her instincts razor-sharp. She squeezed past an Alpine, then found herself wheel-to-wheel with Yuki Tsunoda’s AlphaTauri.
“Nice move, Leyla! Keep pushing!” James encouraged over the radio.
By Lap 10, she had climbed into P12. The Haas wasn’t the fastest car on the grid, but she made it dance on the limit. Every corner was a test of precision, every DRS zone an opportunity.
She was battling Valtteri Bottas when the moment came.
The team called for an undercut strategy. She boxed, trusting them completely. The pit stop was flawless—2.4 seconds. As she rejoined the track, she found herself side-by-side with Bottas once again, only this time, she had warmer tires.
She sent it down the inside at Turn 4.
“P10, Leyla! Points on debut if we hold this!”
Her grip on the wheel tightened. She wasn’t just here to participate. She was here to fight.
---
Chapter 3: Making History
Final lap. P10 was hers, but Lando Norris was breathing down her neck.
“Focus, keep it clean,” James urged.
She blocked every attempt, placing her car perfectly through each turn. The checkered flag waved.
She crossed the line.
“YES, LEYLA! P10! YOU DID IT!”
Tears pricked her eyes as she let out a triumphant scream. The first Turkish woman in F1, and she had scored a point on debut. The paddock erupted in applause as she pulled into Parc Fermé.
As she stepped out of her car, draping the Turkish flag over her shoulders, she looked up at the crowd.
This was just the beginning.
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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Title: Always Second
Gotham was a city of shadows, and I had spent my life living in them. It was almost poetic that I had fallen in love with a man who belonged to them just as much as I did.
Bruce Wayne.
He was my best friend, my partner in charity work, my silent protector when things got dangerous. And I was just another woman in his orbit, never quite the one he reached for.
I had known him since childhood. Our families moved in the same elite circles, though I had never quite fit in. Unlike the other socialites vying for his attention, I wasn’t interested in the Wayne fortune or his playboy persona. I loved Bruce, the man beneath the mask—both of them.
But I was never the one he loved in return.
There was always someone else.
First, it was Rachel Dawes. She had his heart in a way I never could. She was his anchor to a normal life, his reason to believe in justice outside the cowl. I stood beside him as a friend, offered quiet comfort when she chose another, and again when she was lost forever. But even in grief, I knew—I was still second to her memory.
Then came Selina Kyle, the enigmatic thief who slipped through his fingers as easily as she did through Gotham’s streets. He was drawn to her in a way that was wild and reckless. I watched as he chased after her, as he let her in just enough before she disappeared again. And when she returned, it was never for me.
There were others, of course. Talia, Diana, even women from his carefully curated public persona. Each time, I smiled, told myself I was happy for him, and buried the ache deep inside.
But the worst part wasn’t that he didn’t love me. It was that he did—but never enough.
I saw it in fleeting moments, in the way his gaze lingered just a little too long when he thought I wasn’t looking. In the nights when he showed up at my apartment, exhausted and battered, because he knew I would be there. In the way he trusted me with his secrets, his fears, his pain.
But love? Real, undeniable, consuming love? That belonged to someone else.
So I stayed in his life, playing my role. Loyal, dependable, always there when he needed me—never when he wanted me.
And I told myself it was enough.
Even as my heart broke, again and again.
Always Second (Part 2)
The worst part of loving Bruce Wayne wasn’t the heartbreak. It was the hope.
Hope that maybe, one day, he’d look at me the way he looked at them. Hope that, after all the years, after all the wounds and losses, he’d realize that I had always been there. That I wasn’t just another presence in his life, but the one who never left.
It was a quiet kind of pain, the kind that settled in my bones and made a home there.
Tonight was one of those nights.
I sat on the balcony of my apartment, nursing a glass of wine as Gotham’s skyline flickered in the distance. It was late, but I wasn’t surprised when I heard the familiar, subtle footsteps behind me.
“You should lock your doors,” Bruce said, his voice low and rough with exhaustion.
I turned my head slightly, offering a small smile. “And deny you your dramatic entrances? Never.”
He smirked, just a little, before sinking into the chair across from me. His suit was disheveled—Gotham’s golden boy, but only to those who didn’t know better. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the weight he always carried.
“Rough night?” I asked.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached for my glass, taking a sip without asking. It was a habit of his. One I never protested.
“Selina’s gone,” he finally said.
I stiffened, just slightly. “Again?”
He gave a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Yeah. Again.”
I should have been used to this by now. The pattern was always the same. He’d let someone in, just a little, and when they left—because they always did—he’d find his way here. To me. The safe place. The steady one.
I could have said all the things I wanted to. You knew she would leave. You always pick the ones who leave.
Instead, I reached out, my fingers brushing over his knuckles. “I’m sorry, Bruce.”
His hand curled around mine for just a second, and for that moment, I let myself pretend it meant something more. That maybe, this time, he would see me.
But then he let go, leaning back in his chair with a tired sigh. “She’ll be back.”
And there it was. The unspoken truth. She’ll be back, and when she does, I’ll go to her.
I looked away, focusing on the city instead of the man beside me. Because if I met his eyes, he might see it—the quiet devastation I had long since learned to hide.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I’m sure she will.”
And when she did, I would fade into the background once more.
Always second. Never first. Never enough.
Always Second (Part 3)
I had spent years convincing myself that being in Bruce’s life—no matter the role—was enough. That I could take the scraps of his attention, the brief moments of tenderness, and pretend they were whole.
But tonight, as I watched him sitting on my balcony, his mind already halfway to the woman who had left him, I wondered how many more times I could do this.
I sighed, standing up and gathering our empty glasses. “You should get some sleep,” I said softly. “You look like hell.”
He smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ve looked worse.”
I rolled my eyes, but there was no real amusement behind it. “That’s not exactly a defense, Wayne.”
I moved past him toward the kitchen, expecting him to stay where he was, lost in his thoughts. But then, just as I reached the sink, I felt him behind me. His presence was a weight, familiar and impossible to ignore.
His voice was low. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
I turned slowly, frowning. “Do what?”
“This.” He gestured vaguely between us. “Picking up my pieces. Letting me in when I don’t deserve it.”
My chest tightened. It wasn’t often that Bruce acknowledged what we were—what I was to him. And maybe that was the problem.
“Do you ever wonder,” I asked quietly, “why I keep letting you in?”
He looked at me then, really looked, and for the first time in a long time, I saw something in his eyes that wasn’t just gratitude or guilt. Something deeper. Something dangerous.
“I do,” he admitted. “And I wonder how much longer you will.”
I swallowed hard. “Maybe I should stop.”
The words hung between us, heavy and uncertain. I had never said it out loud before. Never dared to voice the truth that had been gnawing at me for years.
Bruce didn’t move. Didn’t blink. “Do you want to?”
I wanted to say yes. Wanted to say that I was done, that I was tired of waiting for something that would never come. But when I opened my mouth, the word caught in my throat.
Because the truth was, I didn’t know how to stop.
He must have seen the answer in my silence because something flickered across his face—something close to regret. He reached out, his fingers barely brushing my wrist before he pulled back, as if realizing that touch would make this too real.
“You deserve better than this,” he said, so quiet it was almost a whisper.
I let out a shaky breath, forcing a small, bitter smile. “I know.”
And yet, as he lingered there, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him, I knew that neither of us would walk away.
Not yet.
Because love—especially love that was never quite returned—wasn’t something you could just turn off.
Even when it was killing you.
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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Title: Second to None
Summary: She had always been there—watching, waiting, hoping. But for Dick Grayson, she was always the second choice. Until she wasn’t.
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I should have known better.
I should have known from the moment I met him, with that easy grin and bright blue eyes, that I would never be the one.
Because there was always someone else.
First, it was Barbara. The perfect partner, the perfect match. The girl who could meet him blow for blow in a fight and still laugh at his jokes. Then Kory—the alien goddess with fire in her veins and love burning in her heart. After her, it was someone new, and then another.
And then there was me.
The one who listened when he needed to vent. The one who patched up his wounds when no one else was around. The one who stayed up late researching his cases, only to hand him the credit when the mystery was solved.
I knew I wasn’t first. I knew, in his eyes, I was never going to be the girl who stole his breath away. But I thought, maybe, just maybe, if I stayed close enough, he’d see me.
But Dick Grayson didn’t look at me that way.
“Thanks, you’re the best,” he’d say, ruffling my hair like a kid sister before running off after someone else.
I would swallow the lump in my throat, put on a smile, and say, “Anytime, Grayson.”
It wasn’t fair. I knew that. I deserved more.
But love makes fools of us all.
It wasn’t until the night everything fell apart that I realized how much of a fool I had been.
Bloodhaven’s sky was alight with fire, the acrid smell of smoke thick in the air. Dick was on the ground, battered, bruised, but still standing. And in his arms, she lay unconscious—his latest love, the one he swore was different.
I watched as he murmured her name, his fingers brushing against her cheek with the kind of tenderness I had dreamed of for years. My heart clenched, not just with jealousy, but with exhaustion.
I was tired. Tired of waiting. Tired of being second.
And in that moment, something inside me snapped.
I turned on my heel and walked away.
Not for the drama. Not for attention. But because I finally understood—he wasn’t my person. And maybe he never would be.
For the first time in years, I let myself breathe.
Maybe I wasn’t his first choice.
But I could be my own.
A week passed before he knocked on my door.
“Hey,” he said, smiling like he always did, as if he hadn’t shattered me over and over again.
“Hey,” I replied, my voice steady.
“I haven’t seen you around.”
“I needed space.”
His expression faltered. “Did I do something wrong?”
I looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, I saw the truth. Dick Grayson was kind, charming, and brave. But he was also blind.
And I was done waiting for him to see.
I smiled, small but sure. “No, Dick. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I did.
But not anymore.
I closed the door, leaving him standing there.
And for the first time in years, I didn’t look back.
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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Title: Second Place
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She wasn't sure when it started. Maybe the first time she saw him, hunched over a keyboard, eyes scanning endlessly over case files while a half-empty coffee cup sat forgotten beside him. Or maybe it was later, when he actually smiled at her—one of those rare, genuine smiles that Tim Drake didn't give out lightly.
Either way, Sophie knew she had fallen for him long before she had the courage to admit it.
But there was always someone else.
First, it was Steph. The bright, bubbly hurricane of a girl who could make Tim laugh even on his worst days. Then, Cass—the quiet, strong presence who understood him in a way no one else could. Even years later, when the Bat-family had changed and evolved, Tim always seemed to have a "someone" who wasn’t her.
And yet, he was kind to her. That was the problem.
He called her when he needed help hacking into a system. He trusted her to cover his back in the field. He told her things he didn’t tell most people—his frustrations, his exhaustion, his rare moments of vulnerability.
But he never looked at her the way she looked at him.
Sophie tried to be okay with it. She told herself that being his friend, his partner, was enough. That she didn't need him to love her the way she loved him.
Then she saw him with her.
The newest "her." Someone perfect. Someone who, this time, he wouldn't let slip away.
Sophie had seen Tim in battle, seen him bleeding, bruised, at death’s door. But she had never seen him as alive as he was when he looked at her.
And in that moment, she realized—she was tired of being second place.
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That night, when Tim called her, she didn’t answer.
Second Place (Part 2)
Sophie stared at her phone as it buzzed on the nightstand.
Tim Drake.
Her fingers twitched, instinct screaming at her to pick up. She always did. Always answered, always showed up, always helped—because it was him. Because it was Tim.
But this time, she let it ring.
The voicemail notification popped up a minute later. She didn’t listen to it.
For the first time in years, she let herself sit in the silence. No late-night crime scene stakeouts. No frantic hacking sessions to bail him out of whatever impossible situation he’d stumbled into. No watching from the sidelines as he gave his heart to someone else.
It was suffocating.
She shoved her phone into the drawer, slamming it shut.
But ignoring Tim Drake was harder than it seemed.
---
Three days passed before he showed up at her apartment.
She shouldn’t have been surprised. Tim wasn’t the type to let things go.
Sophie sighed, rubbing at her temple before yanking the door open. “I’m busy.”
Tim stood there, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, dark circles under his eyes. He looked at her like he was trying to solve a puzzle. “You didn’t answer my calls.”
She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Figured you’d get the hint.”
Tim’s brows furrowed. “What’s going on?”
The way he said it—confused, genuinely concerned—made something snap inside her. She let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head.
“What’s going on,�� she echoed, voice dripping with disbelief. “Tim, do you even hear yourself?”
He blinked. “What do you mean?”
She exhaled, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “I mean I’m tired, Tim. I’m tired of always being your second choice.”
The words hung in the air between them, thick and heavy.
Tim’s expression shifted—something like guilt flashing across his face. “Sophie—”
She held up a hand. “Don’t. Just… don’t.”
He hesitated. “I never meant to—”
“I know,” she cut him off. “You never meant to hurt me. You never meant to take me for granted. But that doesn’t change the fact that you did.”
Tim looked away, jaw tightening. For once, he didn’t have an immediate answer. No perfect, calculated response.
Sophie sighed, her voice softer this time. “I can’t keep doing this, Tim. I can’t keep waiting for you to see me when I know you never will.”
Silence.
Tim swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. When he finally met her gaze, there was something raw in his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.”
She smiled, but it was sad. “You already have.”
And then she closed the door.
For the first time in a long time, Sophie chose herself.
(Sorry kinda feelt like writing something sad)
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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HIIII EVERYONE,
so my book Rhythm of the Shadow out now on my Wattpad account EKthereader.
I hope you guys like it.🤗
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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1. Code and Chaos
The Batcave was eerily quiet—except for the faint sound of The Weeknd playing through Leyla’s headphones. She sat at the Batcomputer, fingers flying across the keyboard, eyes locked on the lines of code flashing in front of her.
"Talk to me, Leyla," came Dick Grayson’s voice through the comms. "We’ve got a major arms deal happening in Gotham Docks, but Oracle’s feed is glitching out."
Leyla smirked, adjusting her hijab as she leaned back. "Lucky for you, I’m better than Oracle."
"She’s gonna hear that," Jason Todd chuckled in the background.
Leyla ignored him, cracking her knuckles before typing again. "Alright, found the issue. Someone’s jamming the signal with a rotating encryption key. Cute trick. Let me just…"
She entered a command, and suddenly, the Bat-family’s HUDs flickered back to life.
"Boom. You’re live. I also took the liberty of rerouting the jammer’s location—looks like our mystery hacker is holed up in a warehouse near Park Row."
"You’re scary good at this," Tim chimed in.
"Scary smart," Leyla corrected. "Now go punch some criminals while I sit here and make sure none of you get killed."
As the team moved in, Leyla switched her playlist to Kendrick Lamar. Gotham’s villains thought they could outsmart the Bat-family. But they didn’t know about her.
Their mistake.
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2. Silent Echoes
Leyla perched on the rooftop of a Gotham high-rise, watching the city lights flicker below. She wasn’t a vigilante—no cape, no cowl. Just her mind and a phone filled with hacking software that could shut down half of Gotham if she wanted.
Tonight, she wasn’t on a mission. She was just… existing.
Soft music played from her headphones—Billie Eilish, her voice haunting and beautiful.
"You okay?"
Leyla turned to see Cassandra Cain standing behind her, silent as ever.
"Yeah," Leyla lied.
Cass didn’t move. Just tilted her head, studying her like she always did when words weren’t enough.
Leyla sighed, tugging at the sleeve of her hoodie. "Sometimes I wonder if I actually belong here. You guys are out there, fighting, making a difference. I just… sit behind a screen."
Cass stepped forward, placing a hand over Leyla’s. A rare, deliberate gesture.
"You save us," she said simply.
Leyla swallowed hard, the weight of those words settling in.
Maybe she wasn’t out there throwing punches. But in a city like Gotham, where shadows ruled, her voice, her skills—her music—kept them all standing.
And that was enough.
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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Rhythm of the Shadows
(A Batfamily Fanfiction featuring Leyla Yılmaz)
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Chapter 17: The Encounter with Talia al Ghul
The night air in Gotham was thick with tension, as it usually was. But tonight, something felt different. Something unnerving.
Leyla Yılmaz sat on a rooftop across from the Wayne Tower, her laptop open in front of her, tracking a strange digital signal. She’d been keeping tabs on various suspicious activities around Gotham, working with the Batfamily to unravel a new conspiracy.
The wind tugged lightly at her hijab as she adjusted the fabric, the cool night air brushing against her face. Her dark brown eyes scanned the screen, fingers tapping rhythmically as she worked. There was a sense of peace to the night, as rare as it was.
Until she heard it.
A soft but unmistakable click of boots on the rooftop behind her. Leyla’s head snapped up, her instincts immediately alert. She had learned by now that Gotham was never as peaceful as it seemed.
And then she saw her.
A woman clad in a black suit, her dark hair flowing behind her, a piercing gaze locking onto Leyla.
Talia al Ghul.
Leyla’s breath caught in her throat. She had heard the name before. Daughter of Ra’s al Ghul, leader of the League of Assassins, a woman with a reputation as dangerous as they come. Yet, here she was, standing only a few feet away from her.
“Leyla Yılmaz,” Talia said smoothly, her voice a melody of calm authority. “I’ve heard much about you.” Her eyes took in Leyla’s appearance—her hijab, modest clothing, and quiet confidence. “Interesting. I didn't expect to find someone like you in Gotham.”
Leyla straightened, her fingers hovering over the keys of her laptop. Her usual confidence began to waver, but she knew she couldn’t let Talia sense her uncertainty.
“Nice to meet you,” Leyla said, her voice measured. “Though I’m not sure it’s the best time for a chat. I’m a little busy right now.” She gestured to her laptop, clearly trying to show Talia that she had no time for games.
Talia’s lips curled into a thin smile. “I’m sure. But you see, I have a very particular interest in you. You’ve been... causing quite the stir in Gotham.”
Leyla’s heart raced. She could already sense the danger, the weight of Talia’s words. She could tell the woman wasn’t here for a friendly conversation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Leyla said, trying to play it cool. “I’m just doing my thing—helping Gotham.” She took a breath, then added, “I’d suggest you leave before things get ugly.”
Talia raised an eyebrow, almost intrigued. “Is that a threat, Leyla? You really think you can intimidate me?”
Leyla felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. “Not trying to intimidate anyone,” she said firmly. “Just stating the obvious.”
Talia’s eyes flickered to the laptop, then back to Leyla. “You are impressive with your intellect. I can see why Bruce Wayne keeps you close. But you’re so... naïve.” She stepped closer, her tone cold and calculating. “You think you can play in this world without understanding the true dangers?”
Leyla stood up slowly, her eyes narrowing. “I know exactly what this world is like,” she said quietly. “You think I’m some naïve girl because I wear a hijab? Because I dress modestly?”
Talia’s smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. “I never said anything about your... appearance.” Her eyes flickered with something dark. “But I do wonder how you’ll fare when things get truly dangerous. When your little world is shattered.”
Leyla’s fingers tightened around the edges of her laptop. “You can try. But I don’t think you know what it’s like to face someone who’s fought for survival every single day.” She took a step closer, her voice steady. “And I don’t need to be like you to be strong.”
Talia’s gaze hardened. There was a long pause, and Leyla could almost feel the venom in the air between them. It was like two predators circling each other, each waiting for the other to make a move.
Talia let out a slow breath and looked her over one last time. “You’re not as weak as you appear, I’ll give you that. But don’t mistake your place in this city. There are forces here that you cannot control. Forces that you don’t understand.”
“I understand more than you think,” Leyla said, her voice low but fierce. “And I’m not afraid of you.”
A flicker of something—perhaps respect—crossed Talia’s face. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by an icy calm. “We shall see, won’t we?” she said, her tone as cold as ever.
With that, Talia turned on her heel, her figure disappearing into the shadows of the rooftop. Leyla stood still for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest, trying to shake off the tension that lingered in the air.
---
Later that Night
Leyla returned to her room, the weight of her encounter with Talia still lingering in her mind. She sat on her bed, her fingers running over the fabric of her hijab as she thought about what had just happened. Talia had tried to intimidate her, to make her feel small. But Leyla wasn’t the type of person to be cowed by anyone, least of all someone like Talia al Ghul.
As she opened her laptop again to review the data she had been tracking earlier, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before Talia or the League of Assassins came after her again. She knew that being part of the Batfamily was dangerous, but this felt different. Talia was a different kind of threat.
And Leyla wasn’t about to let her or anyone else scare her. She had her own strength, her own will, and she was determined to make sure that Gotham stayed safe—even if it meant facing down the likes of Talia al Ghul.
After all, no matter who you were or what you wore, strength wasn’t about how you looked—it was about how you stood tall when the world tried to push you down.
And Leyla Yılmaz wasn’t backing down.
---
To Be Continued...
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everything2go · 2 months ago
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Rhythm of the Shadows
(A Batfamily Fanfiction featuring Leyla Yılmaz)
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Chapter 12: Red Bull and Cherries
Leyla Yılmaz had two great loves (aside from music and hacking): Red Bull and cherries.
She wasn’t sure when it started, but somewhere along the line, caffeine and fruit-flavored sugar had become her coping mechanisms.
Jason, watching her crack open yet another can of Red Bull, raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not secretly Tim’s twin?”
Leyla took a slow sip, holding eye contact. “Unlike Tim, I actually sleep.”
Tim, half-conscious at the Batcomputer, grumbled, “Betrayal.”
But her obsession didn’t stop at energy drinks.
If something was cherry-flavored, she wanted it. Cherry soda, cherry candy, cherry pie, actual cherries—didn’t matter. She’d eat it.
One time, Damian had casually mentioned this fact in passing.
A week later, she walked into the Batcave to find a massive box on the table.
“What is this?” she asked suspiciously.
Jason, leaning against the wall, smirked. “Just open it.”
She did.
Inside was every cherry-flavored snack imaginable. Cherry Twizzlers. Cherry Pop-Tarts. Cherry M&Ms. Even cherry Turkish delight.
Leyla’s eyes widened. “Holy—”
“You complain about my caffeine intake,” Tim muttered, “but you’re about to consume enough sugar to kill a horse.”
Leyla ignored him, turning to Jason. “Did you do this?”
Jason shrugged. “Told Alfred to order some stuff. Figured you deserved a treat.”
For a moment, she just stared at him. Then, to his absolute horror, she hugged him.
“Gross,” he muttered, but he didn’t pull away.
Dick, passing by, grinned. “Aw, Jason’s gone soft.”
Jason flipped him off behind Leyla’s back.
Leyla just grabbed a pack of cherry gummies and grinned. “This is the best day of my life.”
Jason muttered, “You need better life experiences.”
But secretly? He was just happy to see her smile.
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