What's the best thing that happened to you?
Me: Oh I don't know MAYBE FINDING OUT ABOUT THIS 🙉👇
(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
Sweet Seals For You, Always
$LAYYYTER
todays bird
Sade Olutola

Kaledo Art

roma★

tannertan36

No title available
Stranger Things

oozey mess
noise dept.
Misplaced Lens Cap

Love Begins
Cosmic Funnies
One Nice Bug Per Day
Peter Solarz

Origami Around
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
No title available

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from T1

seen from Canada

seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Philippines
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Puerto Rico

seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
@everything2go
What's the best thing that happened to you?
Me: Oh I don't know MAYBE FINDING OUT ABOUT THIS 🙉👇
(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
I need a YJ fanfiction about when Bart travels back he doesn't arrive late he arrives with a girl same age as the original YJ like Nightwing, Artemis and so on. The girl also is a speedster but she is like Makkari from the MCU the eternals. And I really want Nightwing to slowly fall for her but he still can't get over his two break ups (Zatanna and Barbara) so he doesn't try to make a move. Makkari just think about keeping Bart save and save the world and isn't even thinking about love. [AND PLS Wally shouldn't die]
I meant he doesn't arrive alone🤦♀️
I need a YJ fanfiction about when Bart travels back he doesn't arrive late he arrives with a girl same age as the original YJ like Nightwing, Artemis and so on. The girl also is a speedster but she is like Makkari from the MCU the eternals. And I really want Nightwing to slowly fall for her but he still can't get over his two break ups (Zatanna and Barbara) so he doesn't try to make a move. Makkari just think about keeping Bart save and save the world and isn't even thinking about love. [AND PLS Wally shouldn't die]
Chapter 1: Downloaded Fate
Setting: Seoul, South Korea
---
Aylin Gökce – 2:37 PM – Hankuk University of Foreign Studies
Aylin sat in the back row of her “Strategic Brand Management” class, her fingers idly spinning a pen while the professor spoke with too much energy for a Tuesday afternoon.
The air conditioning hummed above her, and the sunlight filtered in through the dusty windows, casting soft lines over her open notebook—filled more with doodles than notes.
She wasn’t ignoring the lecture. Not entirely. But her mind drifted, as it often did, to anywhere but here. Seoul had been… overwhelming lately. The crowds, the language, the feeling of being alone in a city with millions of people.
She adjusted her glasses and zoned in when the two girls in front of her started whispering.
> “Did you try ANO last night?”
“Oh my god, yes. I actually had a convo with someone deep. Like, not creepy. Nice.”
“Right?! You don’t even know if they’re male or female. It’s just… honest. No filters.”
Aylin blinked.
ANO? Never heard of it.
Her ears perked up. An anonymous chatting app? That sounded like the exact opposite of what she usually did. She was shy, guarded—even online. But something about it made her curious.
What if I could just talk to someone who doesn’t know me?
Someone I don’t have to impress.
Someone who doesn’t expect anything from me.
She opened her phone under the desk and typed:
ANO anonymous app Korea
A sleek, black and white icon popped up in the Play Store.
She didn’t download it.
Not yet.
---
Bang Chan – 3:11 PM – JYP Studio
The main room of the studio smelled like iced coffee and fabric softener from Felix’s hoodie, which was now draped over the back of a chair.
Bang Chan was half-listening to the beats Han was mixing through his headphones while he sorted through lyric drafts on his tablet.
His brain felt fried from producing until 2 AM the night before.
Felix suddenly broke the silence.
> “Hyung, have you heard about ANO?”
Chan looked up, eyebrow raised. “Ano?”
> “Nah, not Japanese ano. ANO—like, Anonymous Network Operator. It’s an app. You text random people, and they don’t know anything about you. Total mystery vibe.”
Changbin snorted from the corner. “So basically a modern pen-pal app.”
Felix shrugged, chewing on the straw of his iced Americano. “It’s kinda fun. You don’t know if you’re talking to an old man or an idol.”
That caught Chan’s attention. He didn’t say anything, but his fingers itched.
He smiled slightly, casual. “Weird stuff. Be careful who you trust.”
They laughed. The conversation shifted. Hyunjin asked something about dinner.
But Chan’s mind stayed on the app.
---
Bang Chan – 5:04 PM – Alone in the Studio
By now the others had left to eat. The studio was quiet, save for the occasional rattle of the AC and the soft ticking of the analog clock on the wall.
Chan leaned back in his chair, phone in hand.
He opened the app store.
ANO: Speak without fear. Connect without labels.
No profile. No image. No bio.
Just words.
He downloaded it.
---
Aylin Gökce – 6:16 PM – Her Apartment, Mapo-gu
Back in her small apartment above the record shop, Aylin had changed into her oversized hoodie and worn-out joggers. A candle flickered beside her on the desk, and her laptop hummed with a half-finished assignment she had no motivation to finish.
Her mind was still on the app.
Eventually, she gave in.
ANO: installed.
She stared at the empty screen. A blinking cursor. One open field.
What do you even say to a stranger?
After several deleted drafts, she sighed and typed:
> Hi, do you wanna talk?
Her thumb hovered. Then, she hit send.
---
Bang Chan – 6:17 PM – JYP Studio
Chan was leaning over his keyboard, tweaking a melody when his phone buzzed softly beside him.
A notification from ANO.
He blinked.
> 1 New Message: Hi, do you wanna talk?
He stared at it. Something about the message felt… genuine. No emojis. No pretense. No overthinking.
Just a quiet question from someone who probably needed to be heard.
He smiled faintly, fingertips moving before he could second-guess it.
> Sure. I’m all ears.
And with that, something began.
---
End of Chapter 1
This Idea came to me a 3am.
Bookname: Text me Forever
By: EKthereader
On: Wattpad
(Which is me😝)
how it feels trying to find a fanfic/imagine about a fandom that’s dead and dry
DAMNNNN
That is just so true
“my boyfriend wants to show you his books, and you better say they’re cool,” you demanded while glaring at the camera. an amused jason could be seen in the back as you made way for him to take center stage. “go, babe.”
“hi,” your boyfriend awkwardly greeted before showing off the two paperback books in his hands. “so this one is ‘frankenstein’ by mary shelley. i know we all dreaded reading it in high school, but i really relate to frankenstein’s monster, and the story’s pretty good if you just give it a chance. plus, it’s a pioneer for the science-fiction genre, so that’s cool.”
you could be seen behind jason making threatening gestures with your hands, almost as if to say ‘leave a nice comment or you’re getting blocked!’
“and this one is ‘pride and prejudice’ by jane austen. another oldie but a classic,” jason said with a nonchalant shrug. “the writing’s beautiful, and i love elizabeth’s character because she reminds me of a certain someone. probably one of my favourite books of all time and just a really good comfort read.”
he turned to see your face quickly morph into heart-eyes and a sweet smile.
“good job, honey. that was a great presentation,” you praised before giving his cheek a loving kiss.
“oh, and i’m also part of a book club. we meet at the community center in the bowery every thursday evening. new members are always welcome,” jason off-handedly added.
“and new members are always welcome,” you sharply reiterated, glancing at the camera with a scary scowl and furrowed brows. “see you thursdays.”
gothambaddiexoxo commented: this man was written by a woman lol singleasaprinlge commented: girl, where can i get myself a boyfriend like this 😭 birdzofprey0 commented: sooo does everyone in this book club look like him or?? asking for a friend
inspired by this video here. REBLOGS and COMMENTS are greatly appreciated
That's so cute
So true
Ich glaube, diese Geschichte würde dir gefallen: " Name in the Shadows " von EKthereader auf Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/story/395932669?utm_source=android&utm_medium=com.tumblr&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=EKthereader
Aylin Yılmaz has always been an outsider. First, as an immigrant child growing up in Austria, and now as the new girl at Gotham High after h
Hey I'm trying to save money to buy this dream bike. It is my dream since I was a kid. Right know I'm going to S… Efsa Aktas needs your supp
Hey Guys I'm trying to save money for my dream bike. Right now I'm a student in last year high school (19).
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.
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?
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
Being a young Woman was hard but being a young Turkish woman as a driver in F1 yeah that was harder.
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.
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...
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.
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