#Custom Logo Work Kit

[akshayaquapri]

Work Essential Kit

Work Essential Kit – Conquer Your Workday with Quapri

Give your team or clients a gift they’ll actually use! Quapri’s Work Essential Kit is packed with smart, stylish, and functional items—perfect for busy professionals. It’s fully customizable to match your brand and makes an impressive gift for onboarding, corporate events, or appreciation.

What’s Inside the Kit?

32 GB Pen Drive – Store all your important files in one place.

Metal Pen or Stylus Ball Pen – Choose between a sleek metal pen or a handy stylus pen for smooth writing.

Wireless Bluetooth Mouse – Stay productive with a reliable, portable mouse.

Diary with Magnetic Lock or 1000 mAh Power Bank – Pick a stylish magnetic diary for notes or a compact power bank to stay charged on the go.

Why It’s Great:

Eco Essentials Gift Set – Show you care about sustainability.

Beautifully Packed – Ready-to-gift with elegant packaging.

Welcome Kit for New Joinees – Everything a new hire needs to get started.

Luxury Feel – High-quality items for a premium unboxing experience.

Custom Branded – Add your logo or colors for a personal touch.

Perfect for Any Occasion – Versatile enough for corporate gifting, festivals, or milestones.

[cressidagrey]

System Failure - Chapter 4: Brackley

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Dr. Anastasia "Ana" Wolff (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen to Mercedes? The paddock is buzzing. The media’s in meltdown.

Dr. Anastasia “Ana” Wolff, Mercedes’ notoriously brilliant, emotionally unavailable lead systems engineer and Toto Wolff’s eldest daughter, is not handling it well.  Because Max isn’t just a potential signing, he’s the man she’s been sleeping with in secret for nearly a decade.

And if the rumours are true, and Max Verstappen really is joining Mercedes, then Ana’s carefully compartmentalised world is about to explode.

Warnings and Notes: George Russell Bashing. Ana has a meltdown. Questionable Engineering Science...also Questionable work ethic. Difficult Family relationships. Toto tries his best. Let me know if I missed something else, and I'll add it!

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Mercedes F1 HQ, Brackley, England - 5 June 2025

She didn’t expect anyone to notice.

It was just a shirt.

A black Mercedes team polo — same logo, same structure, same sharp lines.

Only it wasn’t.

It was softer. Cotton. Hers.

The first time in years she’d walked into the engine lab without feeling like her skin was crawling under her collar.

She was reviewing tire temperature data on her tablet when she felt it: eyes.

Not staring. But… watching.

First from one of the junior mechanics, a man with his hair tied in a tight braid and sweat forming under the high-poly collar of his regulation kit.

 Then from Fatima — PR, usually glued to screens and two phones, now blinking owlishly at Ana’s sleeves.

Then from a second-year aero analyst who tugged at the hem of her stiff-fitted polo and kept looking away like it hurt to stare.

Ana tapped a graph.

Waited.

Finally, Fatima stepped closer, voice pitched low. “Sorry — can I ask something?”

Ana glanced over. “You just did.”

Fatima grinned nervously. “That shirt. Is it… different?”

Ana paused.

Then nodded once. “Cotton blend. Custom seams. No tags.”

Fatima exhaled like someone had just opened a window. “God, I knew it. You don’t look like you’re dying.”

One of the mechanics — Leo, Ana remembered — leaned in. “I get rashes from these sleeves every race week. Yours look… soft.”

Another person joined. Then a fourth.

“Do you think they’ll make it standard?” someone asked. “The… your version.”

Ana blinked.

She hadn’t thought of that.

She hadn’t thought about anyone else when the prototypes arrived. Just getting through a day without feeling like she was battling her own clothes.

But now she looked around and realized: they were all tugging at their cuffs.

Unbuttoning their collars. Picking at the embroidered tags inside their necklines like they were trying to scratch out a secret.

Maybe she hadn’t been the only one suffering. Just the only one who refused to normalize it.

“I don’t know,” Ana said slowly. “But I’ll ask.”

Fatima smiled, wide and unguarded. “You should. It’d be the first time teamwear didn’t feel like armor.”

Ana didn’t say anything to that.

But later — in her office, with the door half-closed and the polo still loose against her skin — she opened her email.

***

Email Subject: Cotton Blend Uniform Feedback

From: Dr. Anastasia Wolff <a.wolff@mercedesamgf1.com> To: Team Kit Procurement <procurement@mercedesamgf1.com> CC: Toto Wolff (CEO) Claire Hammond (HR), Marcus Reidl (Design Lead)

Dear All, 

Several members of staff have expressed interest in the cotton prototypes.

If we can accommodate wider distribution, please proceed.

Also — suggest reviewing future apparel through a sensory accessibility lens.

Regards, Dr. Anastasia Wolff Lead Systems and Hybrid Performance Engineer Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS Formula One Team

***

Mercedes F1 HQ, Brackley, England - 5 June 2025

Toto read Ana’s email twice.

Then a third time.

Then he slowly took off his glasses and set them down with an almost reverent sort of care, like the weight of the message had finally sunk in.

He hadn't expected this.

He thought the clothing issue was singular. Specific. Ana-specific.

He thought — wrongly — that this was about her and her alone.

But then he reread the line:

“Several members of staff have expressed interest in the cotton prototypes.” “Recommend trial sizes for track staff and junior team members.”

And another:

“Suggest reviewing future apparel through a sensory accessibility lens.”

He leaned back in his chair.

God.

How many people had just quietly endured because they thought complaining about a shirt made them sound soft? Weak? Replaceable?

How many of them were right to be afraid?

He looked over at his assistant, who was sorting emails across the room.

“Leonie?”

She looked up. “Yes?”

“Can we… get feedback from staff before we finalize the 2026 team kit?”

She paused. “You mean from the senior leads?”

“No,” he said, frowning. “I mean… everyone.”

She blinked.

Toto tapped the desk absently. “Anonymous if necessary. Ask what they actually want to wear. What bothers them. What doesn’t work. Give them options. Not just sizes — materials. Seam styles. Fastenings. Tag placements. Everything.”

Leonie opened her laptop again, rapidly typing. “I’ll draft a feedback form today.”

He nodded.

Then, softer: “I don’t want anyone on this team to feel like they have to earn the right to be comfortable.”

She glanced at him, surprised.

“Not after this,” he added, motioning toward Ana’s email.

And he meant it.

***

Slack Channel: #brackley-nerds 

Private Channel. ~30 members. 

lorelai.pa: GUYS THE FORM THE FORM JUST DROPPED THIS IS NOT A DRILL

sam.transmission: wait the anon team kit feedback form??

jules.elec: YES check your inbox “2026 Apparel Feedback – Optional & Anonymous” Toto’s name is on it. He wants our thoughts.

jess.hr: this feels like that scene in Les Mis where everyone’s like “do you hear the people sing” but about polyester

ellie.electronics: someone’s finally listening 😭 i’m going to cry over a cotton-blend hoodie

fatima.pr: entered “the polos give me existential rage and also chafe my neck like I’m being strangled by a team sponsor”

nicola.sim: I said: “I have a recurring dream about removing the inner tags with fire” follow-up question was “any preferred materials?” i said: yes. soft.

rachel.aero:I just want a version of the rain jacket that doesn’t make me sound like a pissed-off bag of Doritos when I move

Sima.calibration:I said we should bring back zip-off trousers for variable pit lane conditions

you’re all laughing now but you’ll thank me at Monza when it’s 37 degrees

Lucy.comms: I asked if we could have those polos with the half zips again but in bamboo this time don’t judge me

leo.mechanic: I said “please no more fitted sleeves that cut off circulation like a blood pressure cuff from hell”

liv.strategy: I literally typed “I want to wear my team kit without itching like a Victorian ghost girl with TB”

benjy.data: someone’s gonna read this and be like “we’ve made a terrible mistake”

kayleigh.powerunit: seriously though do we think this is because of Ana? 👀

zahra.aero: 100% she wore The Cotton Polo and now we have a form she is the revolution

jules.elec: she suffered so we could be free

leo.mechanic: I still think Toto saw her pick at her collar once and commissioned an entire line of custom-engineered knitwear

lorelai.m: give that man a dad medal wrapped in organic bamboo jersey

tom.sim: if we get a fleece-lined travel hoodie that doesn’t trap heat like a dying star i will get “w21 lives forever” tattooed across my knuckles

***

Twitter Thread: Max to Mercedes?? Let’s Talk About It

@/F1Whispers: 🚨 Hearing whispers that the Max-to-Mercedes conversation isn’t just paddock fantasy anymore.

Apparently someone from Verstappen’s camp had an informal sit-down with a senior Mercedes figure post-Spain.

We’ll be watching this one very closely. 👀

↳@/charlottechicane:  “Informal sit-down” = espresso and ruin. I am so ready.

↳@/pitlanecryptid:  no bc imagine Toto walking into that meeting like “so are you finally done pretending Red Bull isn’t imploding?”

↳@/DataLapDan: i know we’re all excited but if max actually goes to mercedes i’m gonna be insufferable like "my world domination au is CANON" levels of unbearable

↳@/verstappensburner:  this entire fanbase is going to emotionally combust if max shows up to silverstone even looking at the Mercedes hospitality

@/laurensleftshoe:  you’re telling me that in the same season Red Bull fumbled strategy, pissed off Verstappen, and Mercedes quietly fixed their engine?? oh this is SILLY silly season.

@/PaddockWhispers: Not saying anything definitive (yet), but there’s a vibe shift happening. Hearing from more than one source that Mercedes talks with Max Verstappen aren’t as dead-in-the-water as they used to be. 👀

@/javi_ontrack: you mean to tell me we’ve entered the “what if Max leaves Red Bull” timeline in THIS economy????

@/amberflagf1: Reminder: Max has a Red Bull contract until the end of 2028. Also reminder: contracts in F1 are written in pencil and everyone knows it.

@/formula_flirt: I cannot emotionally handle Max Verstappen in Mercedes silver. I would combust. Respectfully.

@/f1firestarter: Max Verstappen to Mercedes would be the biggest defection since Lewis left McLaren. This sport hasn’t known peace since 2007 anyway. Let chaos reign.

@/deaddownforce: Christian Horner if this actually happens: 👨‍🦲🪑😭📉📉📉📉📉

@/helmutvision: Toto’s going to sign Max out of pure spite and call it “a long-term strategic investment.”

@/emiliapits: just saying… Max Verstappen looks one engine failure away from handing in a transfer request #SpanishGP

@/tirewearupdates: We are entering that delicious stage of Silly Season where the rumors go from “lol imagine” to “wait is that actually happening” Max to Mercedes is no longer a meme it’s a threat

@/f1teaaccount: 👀 multiple paddock sources are now saying that Max has “not ruled out” a conversation with Mercedes about 2026 Red Bull’s collapse + Mercedes’ 2026 PU project = ✨spicy✨

@/wheresthegrip: red bull’s falling apart, toto’s wearing that tight smile like he knows something’s already signed, and max looks 4.6 seconds away from choosing violence every sunday we’re so back

@/karunactually: Look, it’s all smoke until there’s fire, but I’ll say this: Mercedes’ power unit development is the most locked-down I’ve seen it in years. And Max is asking very smart questions about 2026 aero.

@/engineerera: If Max goes to Mercedes and GP goes with him… I will simply combust. Red Bull who? I don’t know her.

***

Text Messages: Kimi Antonelli & Oliver Bearman

Kimi: OLIVER. Have you seen Twitter.

Oliver: Always a good start to the day Which bit this time?

Kimi: VERSTAPPEN TO MERCEDES??? People are saying it's real now Like meetings and talks and performance clause drama levels of real

Oliver:

Lmao yeah.

That’s just a rumour. Chill.

Kimi:NO YOU DON’T GET IT If it’s true I’m SCREWED I’m a rookie George has won races They’re not going to fire the guy with media training and four trophies They’ll fire me

Oliver: Okay. One: You haven’t even done half a season. Two: You literally out-qualified him in Miami. Three: You are Toto’s investment. They’re not firing you.

Kimi: I saw Toto smiling in the paddock after Spain Like a knowing smile Like a “I’ve just offered Max Verstappen a multi-year deal” kind of smile I’ve barely been here five minutes. I just stopped getting lost in the motorhome. Toto’s going to be like “you’ve had a nice gap year, off you go.” I’ll be back in F2 by Spa.

Oliver: Toto is not sending you back to F2.

Kimi: He’ll send me to Formula E. Or worse. Endurance.

Oliver: Please breathe.

Kimi: He’s going to call me into his office. And I’ll walk in and he’ll just gesture at a Mercedes shirt and be like “This is for Max. Pack your things.”

Oliver: Kimi.

Kimi: I JUST STARTED UNPACKING MY THINGS

Oliver: Kimi.

Kimi: Do you think Red Bull would take me? Do you think I could learn how to smile for their videos?

Oliver: You hate their social media team.

Kimi: Yes but I love not being unemployed.

Oliver: You're not getting fired. You're 18 and terrifyingly good. Max to Mercedes isn’t about you. It’s about Red Bull imploding.

***

Group Chat: “WHO IS MAX VERSTAPPEN DATING”

 (Members: Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Ricciardo)

Lando: GUYS WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP

Oscar: It’s 6:14am. What is wrong with you.

Carlos: You better be dying

Lando: HAVE YOU SEEN TWITTER check your feeds right now go go go

Oscar: Oh. Wait. What.

Carlos: Oh qué coño “Verstappen to Mercedes 2026”? Are they serious???

Lando: HE’S JUMPING SHIP MAX. TO. MERCEDES. I KNEW SOMETHING WAS OFF

Daniel: ...what did I just wake up to

Lando: I KNEW HE WAS HIDING SOMETHING and now he’s packing his bags and heading straight into Toto’s loving arms??? THIS IS A GRID-LEVEL EVENT

Oscar: There’s no confirmation. Could just be speculation.

Carlos: You don’t switch teams because of one bad race. That’s not Max.

Lando: that’s what you think but I think�� it’s the girlfriend 😐

Oscar: No.

Carlos: Lando.

Daniel: God.

Lando: what if she’s a Mercedes girl what if he’s been SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY THIS WHOLE TIME what if she's one of Toto's engineers or like. his race strategist or his cat sitter, I don’t know, everyone in that team is suspicious

Oscar: This is why no one tells you anything.

Daniel: I know for a fact she’s not Toto’s cat sitter. BECAUSE HE DOESN’T HAVE A CAT

Lando: SO YOU DO KNOW HER WE’VE CIRCLED BACK CONFESS

Carlos: Can we stay on topic

Lando: I am on topic Max is leaving red bull for love for romance for goddamn affection, carlos

Oscar: Or maybe for stability and a better engine

Lando: you’re no fun

Daniel: You really think Max Verstappen would switch teams because of a girlfriend?

Lando: Yes. Do we need to stage an intervention???

Carlos: You’re acting like he joined a cult.

Oscar: I’m muting again.

Daniel: Same.

Lando:

YOU’RE ALL BLIND

HE’S DEFECTING

AND HE’S TAKING HIS SECRET GIRLFRIEND WITH HIM

OPEN YOUR EYES SHEEPLE!

***

Group Chat: “TEAM 33”

 (Members: Max Verstappen, Jos Verstappen, Raymond Vermeulen)

Raymond: I just got three missed calls from Helmut. One from Christian. And one from someone in communications asking “how hypothetical this all is.”

Jos: 😂

Raymond: You think this is funny?

Jos: A little. They’ve spent the last year ignoring him. Now they remember his number?

Max: I got a text from Christian. Just said: “Are you free to talk later today?” Didn’t even put a smiley face.

Raymond: Yeah, they’re rattled. Now everyone’s watching every move you make.

Max: Good. Maybe now they’ll realize “next year” isn’t a plan. It’s a stall.

Jos: Told you this would get their attention. Should’ve done it back in Hungary.

Raymond: They’re already trying to spin it internally. Said you’re “frustrated but committed.” Which is rich, considering you’ve barely committed to a sandwich lately.

Max: I’m not saying anything to them until we decide what we want. Let them sweat.

Jos: They deserve to sweat. They built an empire around you and assumed you'd never walk away.

Raymond: You sure you’re ready for the chaos if this keeps escalating? Sponsors. Media. Internal leaks. They’re going to start dangling upgrades and favors like candy.

Max: Let them. I'm not interested in words. I'm interested in performance. And in options.

Jos: He means Anastasia Wolff.

Raymond: Oh for god’s sake

Max: I mean winning. And maybe a competent power unit.

Jos: Just admit it, you want a new car and the girl to match.

Max: I want a future that actually exists.

***

Mercedes F1 HQ, Brackley, England - 9 June 2025

Ana didn’t usually pay attention to gossip.

She didn’t have the time. Between engine simulations, thermal load mapping, and trying to outsmart the very laws of physics that governed engines, her brain had better things to do than scroll through rumor threads or listen to whatever the hell the factory gossip mill spat out between coffee breaks.

Gossip was for bored comms interns and second-tier Twitter accounts and the anonymous message boards she refused to acknowledge she read. Gossip was an inefficient use of processing power, and she had an engine to build.

Well—part of an engine.

 Ana was deep in the work. She liked that about engines: either it ran, or it didn’t. It didn’t hide behind charm or half-truths or the kind of smile that curled just at the corner like it knew what your heartbeat did at 2 a.m. when it whispered your name.

She was elbow-deep in the systems diagnostic interface when it happened.

“...bet Toto’s buzzing. I mean, Verstappen in Mercedes? That’s headline stuff.”

Ana didn’t look up immediately. The interns chatted all the time. She’d learned to tune them out like background static.

But then someone laughed.

 “That’s the thing, though. Apparently the talks are real this time. Like, post-Spain. Horner looks ready to combust. Heard Max’s team asked for a second round of briefings already.”

Her fingers froze. Not stopped—froze. A full system hang. The kind that required a hard reboot.

She stood up too fast, knocking over a container of diagnostic strips. “What are you talking about?”

Three junior engineers blinked at her like deer in carbon-fibre headlights.

“I—uh—sorry?” one offered. A kid. Probably twenty-three. Probably didn’t know the laws of thermodynamics, much less the laws of personal space.

Ana’s voice came out cold and precise. Like dry ice instead of fire. “You said Verstappen and Mercedes. What talks?”

He hesitated. “It’s just, um, what people are saying. Apparently he’s… not thrilled at Red Bull. And with the new regulations—”

“What talks?” she repeated, sharper now. “With who? When? On what basis?”

Silence. Someone coughed.

Another engineer—Liam—spoke up, clearly trying to calm the waters. “Ana, it’s probably nothing. Just paddock noise. Silly season stuff.”

“I don’t care if it’s silly season or the Book of Revelations,” she snapped. “You don’t bring that name into this building without—”

She cut herself off.

She had not meant to sound that emotional. She didn’t do emotional.

Emotional was messy. Emotional got you left in a cold Vienna apartment when you were eight years old and didn’t understand why Mama never came back. Emotional got you 10 years of therapy and a lifelong fear of letting anyone close enough to notice that your heart beat out of time when Max Verstappen so much as looked at you.

“Forget it,” she muttered, already crouching to pick up the diagnostic strips. “Get back to work.”

She tried to focus again. Truly, she did.

But all she could see was him.

Max, in a Mercedes fireproof. Max, in her garage. Max, here.

That wasn’t just gossip.

That was personal.

And she had to find out from watercooler gossip that he might be walking straight into her father's garage next year?

She dropped into her chair, jaw tight.

She was going to kill him.

***

Slack Channel: #brackley-nerds 

Private Channel. ~30 members. 

liam.engine: okay so… ana just full-on snapped because someone mentioned max verstappen in the breakroom

tom.sim: like snapped snapped?? or ana-normal snapped??

liam.engine: diagnostic strips were flung. her eye twitched. she pulled rank with a voice that could’ve cut titanium.

kayleigh.powerunit: i was THERE. i thought she was going to throttle poor benjy. he looked like a ghost.

tom.sim: to be fair benjy always looks like a ghost. poor child lives on vending machine coffee and hope.

ellie.electronics: wait wait back up. what about verstappen?

liam.engine: someone mentioned the rumors he’s been in talks with merc and she lost it. like. visibly rattled.

sam.transmission: are we… not supposed to know that? because we all know that.

jess.hr: you didn’t hear it from me but… there have been board-level discussions. like actual meetings.

kayleigh.powerunit: george is going to combust. first his championship dream, now his dream girl?? mans cannot catch a break.

ellie.electronics: okay first of all. ana does NOT know george exists in that way. he flirts, she blinks and changes the subject to engine temperature mapping.

tom.sim: yeah but he tries. like, tragically hard. someone should tell him.

liam.engine: we have. multiple times.

sam.transmission: i think he genuinely believes if she just softens a little she’ll like him.

jess.hr: spoiler alert: trying to “soften” Ana Wolff is a career-limiting move.

liam.engine: but imagine…george losing both the girl and his seat to the same man. brutal.

tom.sim: “he came, he saw, he took your garage and your girl” – max verstappen, probably

kayleigh.powerunit: no but seriously, if verstappen joins next year…ana is going to short-circuit.

liam.engine: she already has. i swear i saw her hand shaking when she went back to her desk.

ellie.electronics: …do we think they’ve got history?

tom.sim: mate. that wasn’t “history.” that was “I will end you for not telling me yourself.”

liam.engine: also. george absolutely walked past Toto’s office ten minutes ago and didn’t even look inside. he knows.

kayleigh.powerunit: press F for george russell. he’s not getting the girl. he’s not getting the seat.

sam.transmission: this team is going to be absolute chaos next season.

liam.engine: so…basically. max to mercedes: 90% confirmed george: 90% doomed ana: 100% about to kill someone

kayleigh.powerunit: can we get hazard pay?

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Anastasia “Ana” Wolff

Ana: You unbelievable, reckless, arrogant bastard.

Max: Hi Poekie 🥰

Ana: Don’t you dare call me that. is it true?

Max: you’ll have to be more specific. i do many things. most of them well. 😏

Ana:Is it true you’re talking to mercedes?

Max: define “talking” Like… theoretically, if a man was tired of his car dying every other Sunday and wanted to drive something that didn’t sound like a blender full of nails and steers like a shopping trolley, would that be so shocking? Was wondering when that would land in Brackley. Impressive it took this long, honestly.

Ana: You think this is funny?

Max: I think it’s adorable that you're this worked up. Is that a little engine rage I sense? Or something else?

Ana: You’re unbelievable.

Max: You say that every time I make you come.

Ana: You’re smirking through text. I know you’re smirking. Wipe it off your face or I swear to God I will personally rig your MGU-K to explode.

Max: You threatening to blow me up is the highlight of my week. I wasn’t hiding it. Just… hadn’t mentioned it yet. It’s not official. I haven’t signed anything. But yeah. I’m thinking about it.

Ana: Why?

Max: Because Red Bull’s a shitshow. Because the car’s not where I want it. Because 2026 is a clean slate. Because Mercedes has the best shot at nailing the regs.

Max : I was waiting for the right moment to tell you. You know. When you weren’t actively building the engine I might end up driving.

Ana: You absolute—

Max: Careful. You call me enough names, I might think you miss me.

Ana: You were going to let me build that engine and not say a word?

Max:I think it’s poetic. You building the engine I win my next championship with.

Ana: You’re not funny.

Max: A little bit. Also… If I do come to Mercedes, I’d get to see you more. You sure you want to complain?

Ana: Max.

Max: Ana.

Ana: This isn’t funny.

Max: It’s not meant to be. It’s serious. I’m serious. This team. This future. And you.

Max: You can throw everything you want at me, but I’m not pretending this isn’t personal.

Max: You and I never weren’t personal.

Ana: Stop flirting with me.

Max: You texted me first. Angry. You’re always hottest when you’re mad.

Ana: unbelievable.

Max: you should see how good i look in silver might need you to help peel the fireproofs off after practice. for research. obviously.

Ana:I hate you.

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Victoria Verstappen

Victoria: Are you seriously considering Mercedes or was that just a fever dream I saw on Twitter this morning?

Max: Depends. 

Victoria: MAX. Are you actually considering it??

Max: I’m thinking about it. New regs. New challenge. New team that isn’t Red Bull collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

Victoria: So that’s a yes.

Max: It’s a maybe. A serious maybe.

Victoria: And what does your situationship think about this?

Max: She’s not my situationship.

Victoria: Max.

Max: What?

Victoria: You’ve been sleeping with the same woman since 2016. You once skipped a Red Bull sponsor dinner because she had the flu. You got into an argument with Charles Leclerc because he flirted with her. You remember what day her mother left and make sure not to say anything soft around her that week.

That’s textbook situationship energy.

Max:No.

That’s Ana refusing to process any emotion stronger than mild caffeine withdrawal energy.

It’s different. She’s not my situationship. She’s the love of my life. She just doesn’t know how to be loved yet.

Victoria: Oof. That’s devastating. And also weirdly poetic. Have you told her that?

Max: She’d run.

Victoria: So you’re just gonna… casually defect to her team and hope the proximity therapy works?

Max: Basically, yeah.

Victoria: You’re unhinged.

Max: She’s worth it.

Victoria: Jesus.

Victoria: Fine. But I’m getting front row seats when she inevitably explodes at you in the Mercedes garage and you just stand there like a golden retriever in love.

Max: She already threatened to rig my MGU-K. Does that count?

Victoria: God. She so loves you.

Max: I know.

Victoria:I reserve the right to say I told you so if she makes you cry in an airport again though.

Max: That was one time and I was jetlagged

***

Mercedes F1 HQ, Brackley, England - 11 June 2025

The thing about working for 48 hours straight is that eventually, the code starts humming. Not metaphorically. Literally. The numbers pulse on the screen like they're breathing. The engine model almost sings.

It was beautiful. Or maybe that’s just the hallucination talking.

Ana hadn’t meant to do this. Not really.

But the rumours wouldn’t shut up.

Every thread. Every whisper in the office. Every poorly disguised hallway conversation that cuts off when she walks by. They all hum with the same goddamn thing:

Max Verstappen. Mercedes. 2026.

So Ana did what she’s always done best: work.

And then kept working.

And then kept working past the part where most people would’ve gone home, or taken a nap, or consumed anything other than coffee and three-day-old protein bars.

The Max-to-Mercedes rumors had detonated in her skull like a landmine, and the only solution was to outpace the noise. To code faster than she could think. To simulate until reality bent around the dyno and all that existed was pressure ratios and heat recovery systems. 

Ana had not slept in—well. She couldn’t quite remember. Forty-eight hours, give or take. Possibly more.

Sleep was inefficient. Feeling things was inefficient. If she could out-engineer her central nervous system, maybe she wouldn’t have to think about him walking into her garage wearing her team kit and asking her to act like they were nothing more than a very well-documented HR violation waiting to happen.

Nope. Absolutely not. Rejected.

It was fine.

Totally fine.

She stayed.

Skipped lunch. Skipped dinner. Drank whatever sludge passed for coffee in the staff kitchen. Ate two protein bars and a half-bag of Haribo from someone’s drawer.

By hour 36, her eyes twitched when she blinked. By hour 38, One of the CFD renderings had started to look like Max’s smile and she’d closed the window with so much force the monitor flickered. By hour 42, she had a conversation with the exhaust flow diagram.

Ignoring your feelings via work? Ten out of ten. No notes.

The door to the systems lab opened, and James—sweet, anxious James—peeked in with the caution of a man trying not to get yelled at.

“Hey, uh… Ana? You’ve been here a while.”

She didn’t look up. “I’m busy.”

“Yeah. No, I see that. It’s just… someone said you haven’t gone home since Monday?”

“I took a nap during the CFD cycle.”

“You mean the thirty-two-minute cooldown window?”

She adjusted her monitor. “Power naps are valid recovery strategies.”

James stepped back like she was radioactive. “Okay. Yeah. Coolcoolcool.”

***

There were a few things Lorelai had learned about Dr. Anastasia Wolff after working as her PA for years: 

She did not like phone calls.

She did not tolerate inefficiency.

She did not, under any circumstances, do emotional meltdowns.

Which was why Lorelai was… confused.

Because there was currently a meltdown happening. A very quiet, very clinical, very Ana-coded meltdown. But still—an undeniable one.

The first sign something was off: Ana had skipped her 2 p.m. apple.

Now, most people wouldn’t clock that. But Lorelai kept receipts. Not metaphorical ones—literal, detailed, colour-coded records of Ana Wolff’s habits. Not because she was creepy (debatable), but because being Ana’s assistant was like managing a billion-dollar Formula 1 car that had decided to develop sentience and reprogram itself with C++ and repressed trauma.

And now Ana had been in the systems lab for forty-eight hours. 

Which is why Lorelai—personal assistant, keeper of the calendar, shepherd of wayward engineers—was deeply, profoundly concerned.

Forty-eight hours.

Straight.

No shower breaks. No meal breaks. Just coffee, simulations, and whatever slowly crystallizing protein bar graveyard she’d built next to the dyno monitor.

And the thing was… no one knew why.

At first Lorelai thought maybe it was a tight deadline. A design review. A manufacturing delay. Ana loved a crisis, thrived on impossible timelines like a cryptid built from caffeine and elite academic trauma.

Something was wrong.

And it had started the exact same day the rumors about Max Verstappen coming to Mercedes had hit the media cycle like a wrecking ball dipped in silver paint.

Lorelai had seen the slack channel, of course. Heard the whispers. Everyone had.

Max Verstappen. Mercedes. 2026.

A little gossip grenade tossed casually into the Slack channels and now rolling around under everyone’s desks.

Still, she didn’t get it. Ana didn’t even like Max Verstappen. Or… well.

She never talked about Max Verstappen.

Which, knowing Ana, might’ve meant something entirely different.

Now, Lorelai wasn’t stupid. She’d worked at Brackley long enough to know that F1 was held together by caffeine, duct tape, and gossip. She’d been in procurement for four years before Ana had stolen her during a lunch break by asking, “Would you like to stop being bored and start being indispensable?” And frankly, that had been the sexiest job offer she'd ever received.

But she’d never—never—seen Ana like this.

Forty-eight hours in the lab. No sleep. No food except Haribo and the kind of protein bar that tasted like bark. No interactions with the outside world except for three short, sharp emails, all time-stamped between 3 and 4 a.m., and all featuring increasingly unhinged demands about airflow telemetry and torque mapping for 2026.

At first Lorelai thought it was just a normal hyperfixation spiral. Ana had those sometimes—one moment she’d be designing cooling systems in her head, the next she’d be elbow-deep in CAD software muttering about slipstream efficiency like it owed her money.

But this?

This was personal.

Which didn’t make any sense, because Ana didn’t do personal. She did spreadsheets. She did systems.

And yet here she was.

Working like her brain was on fire.

Refusing food.

Snapping at poor James from aero like he’d suggested they reintroduce porpoising for fun.

And most concerningly…

Whispering to  the exhaust flow diagram.

Lorelai watched her from the doorway, nursing her third espresso and wondering how many HR policies were currently being violated by pure sleep deprivation.

***

Slack Channel: #brackley-nerds 

Private Channel. ~30 members. 

james.aero: okay so question hypothetical if someone’s been working for maybe 48 hours straight and won’t make eye contact and is whispering to the exhaust flow diagram should we… like… do something?

liam.engine: oh no is it Ana please tell me it’s not Ana

james.aero: uh how long has Ana been in that lab?

zahra.aero: Since… Monday?

james.aero: It’s Wednesday evening.

ellie.electronics: Guys. She just asked the exhaust rendering if it wanted a break.

daniel.it: ok but like in a normal voice or a soft voice

ellie.electronics: a soft voice like it was a hamster

mira.simulations: Jesus.

felix.eng: Should we… call someone?

daniel.it: like who? HR? Her dad? Her exorcist?

ellie.electronics: I vote Toto. This feels above our pay grade

felix.eng: No offense but I’d rather arm-wrestle a live inverter

daniel.it: Wait what if it’s the Verstappen thing You know… the rumor. Max to Mercedes? 2026?

mira.simulations OH MY GOD

james.aero: Wait wait wait are we suggesting that Ana Wolff —Dr. “emotions are for the weak” Wolff— is spiraling because of… a driver transfer rumour?

ellie.electronics: what if they used to date

daniel.it what if they still do

mira.simulations she did flinch when someone said “Red Bull” in the hallway earlier

james.aero: i thought that was about the drink

mira.simulations: she called it “synthetic capitalist battery acid” and kept walking

felix.eng: idk guys she’s brilliant but she’s acting like someone just told her her pet died and the pet was responsible for aero performance

sara.branding: ok but why does she care so much about Verstappen joining? she’s literally never mentioned him

jess.hr: maybe she’s secretly in love with him like that weird Wattpad slow burn where the ice queen and the golden retriever fall in love after ten years of mutual pining

matt.merchandise: first of all: I’d read that second: why is that so specific

nicola.sim: does anyone know if they’ve ever even spoken????

james.aero: i once saw them pass in the paddock she nodded he blinked it was the most emotionally loaded 0.7 seconds of my life.

amelie.procurement: guys. if Max Verstappen signs with Mercedes Ana is going to have to see him every single week

james.aero: …should we start updating the fire protocols now

liam.eng-lead: does this mean we’re in an enemies-to-lovers arc or a “do not engage unless you want the hydraulics to burst” arc

kayleigh.powerunit: 

yes

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Anastasia “Ana” Wolff

Max: so hypothetically if someone were to show up in Brackley wearing silver and looking criminally good in it would you throw a wrench or just ignore them

Max: also asking for a friend: is rigging an MGU-K to explode technically a war crime

Max: …ana?

Max: ok you’re mad. that’s fine. you’re cute when you’re mad. well. terrifying. but also cute.

Max: is this you icing me out for flirting too much? because i can do more flirting like a lot more no one’s stopping me

Max: okay you’ve never taken this long to respond even when you pretended to “accidentally” leave your phone in a Faraday pouch because you were “busy” mapping thermal decay

Max: (yes i remember the exact phrase. no i don’t forgive you)

Max: ana please just text me that you’re alive i’m starting to imagine really dramatic things and you know my imagination is unhinged i saw you break a torque wrench once with your bare hands i believe you could disappear into a server rack and never come out

Max: i know you’re not answering because you’re working. but 36 hours without sleep isn’t working. that’s crashing.

Max: okay. seriously. this isn’t funny anymore. are you okay? did something happen?

Max: Nastya. please just let me know you’re okay. i don’t care if you’re mad. i don’t care if you’re busy. i care if you’re breathing.

***

Mercedes F1 HQ, Brackley, England - 11 June 2025

Toto Wolff was not a man easily rattled.

He had survived backmarkers, boardroom politics, and the 2016 championship. He had learned to speak calmly while millions watched his drivers threaten to kill each other in front of national cameras.

But nothing—nothing—quite sent ice through his bloodstream like hearing Lorelai say, in her deceptively calm tone:

"I think there’s… a concern. About your daughter. From a safety protocol perspective.”

He looked up from his laptop.

Lorelai stood in the doorway to his office. Immaculate as always. Her glasses perched at the edge of her nose. Her iPad hugged tightly to her chest like it was the only thing keeping her from losing her grip on reality.

“She hasn’t left the building since Monday. And she’s… uh… talking to herself. In at least three languages. Possibly four.”

Toto sighed. Pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll handle it.”

He didn’t ask why no one had handled it sooner.

Because he knew the answer.

People didn’t tell Dr. Anastasia Wolff what to do. They let her work, in awe and slight terror, until she disappeared again like some kind of ghost of the dyno bay—brilliant, brutal, and untouchable.

He strode through the corridors with long, purposeful steps. 

Anastasia was exactly where he expected her to be: hunched over the control interface, surrounded by code, still wearing that black fleece with the fraying cuff. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her hair braided but unraveling, and she didn’t even glance up when the door opened.

Toto felt that ache in his chest again—the one he always got when she was like this. Too quiet. Too still. Too close to the edge of something brittle.

He still remembered the first time he saw her.

Vienna. 2005.

Anastasia Yelena Volkova had arrived on his doorstep like a misdelivered package—tight-lipped, red-eyed, nearly eight years old, wearing a coat two sizes too small and clutching a Soviet-era suitcase with her initials stitched inside in Cyrillic.

Her mother hadn’t come in. She hadn’t even looked back.

Just a stiff nod, a clipped explanation in Russian that amounted to your turn, and then she was gone.

Anastasia had only spoken Russian back then. Refused to answer in anything else. It had taken months for her to say “yes” instead of da. A year before she started using “Papa.” Two before she stopped flinching when someone raised their voice.

And even now, nearly two decades later, Toto still wasn’t sure she believed she belonged.

She’d grown into someone sharp and strange and brilliant. She didn’t cry. She didn’t ask for things. She lived in the folds of logic and simulation code and thermal maps, and most of the time he let her stay there. Let her be who she was without trying to shape her into something softer.

Because Toto was a smart man.

He knew his daughter was clever—anyone with two Cambridge degrees and a doctorate was clever. 

But Ana wasn’t just smart. She saw things. Solved problems that hadn’t been named yet. She treated the 2026 PU like a living thing, coaxing performance from it the way some people coaxed birds into their hands.

He didn’t always understand her—but he never underestimated her.

Now, nearly  twenty years later, that same girl was barricaded in a dyno bay surrounded by code and caffeine and emotional landmines he still didn’t know how to read.

He walked in and saw her hunched over a workstation, hair fraying from her braid, muttering in a furious whisper about battery drain cycles like the fate of the earth depended on it.

She didn’t even flinch when the door opened.

He used the only thing that still worked.

“Anastasia Yelena Wolff.”

She froze.

Like a gunshot. Like the echo of a childhood too sharp around the edges.

Slowly, she turned. Her face was pale, eyes glassy and over-bright, like someone walking the tightrope between clarity and collapse.

“Papa?” she asked. Quiet. Distant. Like maybe her brain hadn’t caught up yet.

“Anastasia,” he said more gently now. “You need to stop.”

“I’m fine,” she murmured. “I’m just—working through the module delay. If I can get the compression sync to balance before the next sim—”

“You’ve been awake for two days.”

“I’ve done worse.”

“That’s not comforting.”

She didn’t answer.

Toto stepped around the desk and crouched down beside her chair, like he had when she was small. He’d always been a tall man, but he’d never once tried to loom over her. It never would’ve worked. Even at fifteen, Ana had stared him down like she was the one writing his performance reviews.

“You need to sleep,” he said softly.

Anastasia looked away. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“Why?”

Her jaw flexed. Silence.

He didn’t push.

Instead, he stood and held out a hand.

To his surprise—she took it.

She didn’t argue.

Didn’t speak much on the drive, either. Just curled into the passenger seat, like her bones had finally remembered they were tired.

When they arrived at his house, she walked in automatic. Like the muscle memory never left. Same bedroom. Same old lamp.

Toto handed her a bottle of water and told her to brush her teeth.

She didn’t even roll her eyes.

When she curled up under the duvet, he pulled it gently over her shoulder and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, unsure if she was asleep yet.

Then she whispered, “Thanks.”

He paused.

“Always.”

He sat there a few minutes longer, watching her breathe.

Still brilliant. Still so sharp it scared him sometimes.. Yet he still wondered if her mind was something even bigger than what she let people see. Something that frightened her, too.

She was lethal.

Not just degrees. Not just intellect.

A mind like a scalpel.

And a heart she kept padlocked, duct-taped, buried somewhere beneath layers of grit and code and engine schematics.

He stood.

Turned off the light.

Closed the door behind him.

And told himself—once again—that he was doing his best.

***

Text Messages: Toto Wolff & Susie Wolff

Toto Just brought Ana home. She was in the systems lab. Forty-eight hours. Maybe more. Lorelai says she didn’t leave since Monday.

Susie: Oh no. That’s a full bender. Did something trigger it?

Toto:I don’t know. No one seems to know what triggered it. She wouldn’t say. Just kept muttering about engine logic and simulation lag and something about thermal sync ratios. She looked… hollow. Not angry. Not manic. Just gone. Like she disappeared behind the code and forgot how to come back.

Susie Was it the 2026 revisions? The PU development?

Toto I asked. She just said she was working. You know how she gets. That thing where she locks in and forgets she’s a person.

Susie And you think it’s just work?

Toto No. I think it’s something. But she won't let me see what it is. She never has.

Susie: Poor girl.

Toto: Her brain doesn’t stop. Not like other people. She doesn’t feel things in real time — she just stores it somewhere deep and then short-circuits under the weight of it.

Susie: You’ve always said she runs like an engine.

Toto: Yes. High power. No governor. And when it overheats, she doesn’t shut down — she redlines. Quietly. Efficiently. Until she crashes.

Susie: You did the right thing bringing her home.

Toto: I hope so. I don’t always know how to help her. She’s brilliant. But it’s like she’s made of glass sometimes. The high-grade kind. Sharp edges. Carries voltage.

Susie: You help by being there. That’s always been the way. She came home with you, didn’t she?

Toto: Yes.

Susie: Then you’re doing fine.

Toto: She thanked me. Before she fell asleep.

Susie: Then she knows.

Toto: Knows what?

Susie: That you love her. Even if you don’t always know how to say it.

Toto: … I hope so.

Susie: She’s not broken, you know.

Toto: I know. She’s just wired differently. And sometimes… I think the whole damn world should rewire itself to match her, instead.

***

Toto Wolff’s House, Brackley, England - 12 June 2025

Ana woke to the uncomfortable sensation of… stillness.

Not quiet, exactly — her brain didn’t really do quiet — but a kind of post-storm silence. Her skin felt too tight. Her throat dry. Her tongue like the underside of a radiator cap. Muscles ached in places she didn’t even remember using.

It was bright. Too bright. Morning light spilling past gauzy curtains that weren’t hers, across a room she hadn’t slept in for years.

Her old room.

Her father’s house.

She groaned, curling onto her side, eyes scrunching against the sun like it was personally trying to shame her. Memories came back in flashes — the hum of the dyno bay, the way the monitor had started pulsing, the battery flowchart she’d argued with at hour 45. The moment she’d looked up and seen Toto there, like a conjured hallucination.

Except it hadn’t been.

He’d come. Scooped her up like she was still eight years old with a head full of Russian grammar and trauma. Sat her in the passenger seat. Put her to bed.

Now she was here.

And she felt awful.

Everything in her body was slow. Her brain was fogged with something like grief and guilt and tech fatigue. And under all of it — beneath the espresso crash and cognitive flatline — there was shame. Deep and bone-quiet.

He’d used her full name.

And she had gone with him.

God.

Ana sat up slowly, wincing as her body protested the motion. Her hoodie was twisted around her like a straitjacket. Her braid had mostly unraveled and clung to one side of her face. Her glasses were missing. Probably lost in the chaos. Her socks didn’t match.

Everything hurt.

She dragged herself to the kitchen by muscle memory, following the smell of espresso and something warm and toasty.

Toto was already there. Reading something on a tablet. A second coffee sat waiting beside a plate of toast — buttered, crusts cut off, just like she used to eat it when she was too tired to argue with food.

He didn’t look up when she entered.

“Good Morning,” Toto said, still reading.

“Is it?”

“You’re upright, so that’s progress.”

She sipped the espresso, wincing slightly. “My brain’s still buffering.”

“You were arguing with a bar graph last night.”

Ana gave him a tired glare. “It was slow.”

Toto set his tablet down and looked at her properly. His expression was unreadable in the way that always made her bristle.

“You look terrible,” Toto added.

“That’s not comforting,” she rasped.

“I don’t do comforting. I do espresso and early exits.”

Ana smiled. Brief. Real.

They lapsed into silence.

Eventually, she spoke. “I’m sorry.”

Toto didn’t say anything.

Then, softer: “You came to get me.”

Toto met her eyes. “You’re my daughter.”

After a moment, she said, very quietly, “Do I… scare you?”

He looked up.

Ana didn’t.

“I scare myself sometimes,” she murmured. “When I get like that. When I forget to stop. It’s like—if I pause for even a second, everything will catch up.”

Toto exhaled. “You don’t scare me.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Confuse me. Force me to Google terms I’m pretty sure you made up. Yes. But you don’t scare me.”

Ana looked away. “You didn’t even know I existed until my mother dumped me at your door.”

Toto’s voice softened. “I didn’t know you existed, no. But the moment I did, you were mine. There’s a difference.”

Ana looked away. “Sometimes I feel like you don’t know what to do with me.”

“Most of the time,” Toto said bluntly. “But that’s not the same as not wanting to try.”

She didn’t say anything.

“I don’t always know what to do with any of you,” Toto said. “You just require… a different operating manual.”

She glanced up. “German or Russian?”

He smirked. “It’s in Hieroglyphs. I’ve given up trying to read it.”

Ana huffed a laugh, tears stinging the corners of her eyes.

He slid a plate across the table. Toast. Buttered. Cut into quarters.

Ana stared at it.

“I’m not eight,” she muttered.

“You’re acting like it,” he replied, sipping his espresso.

She snorted. Picked up a piece. Ate it.

Then after a pause: “Thank you. For coming.”

Toto nodded.

“You’re not alone in this,” he added quietly. “Whatever this is.”

She didn’t answer.

But she finished the toast. Drank the rest of the coffee. Sat there just long enough for him to believe — maybe — that the worst had passed.

And maybe, just maybe, it had.

***

Text Messages: Susie Wolff & Dr. Anastasia “Ana” Wolff

Susie: Hey love. Just checking in — how are you feeling?

Ana: Hungover. Except without the alcohol that usually causes it.

Susie: So the 48-hour no-sleep, Haribo-and-coffee-fueled science bender finally caught up with you?

Ana: Might’ve run out of caffeine before I ran out of coping mechanisms. Or the other way around.

Susie: Ana. Darling. You do know you’re allowed to feel things, right? Even difficult things. Especially difficult things.

Ana: I didn’t want to think about my feelings. I wanted to out-engineer them. Put them in a box and simulate them into submission. It worked for 47 hours and 17 minutes.

Susie: And then the crash?

Ana: Then the crash. And the hallucinating of a CPU diagram that was smiling at me.

Susie: Oh Ana. That’s when you close the laptop, sweetheart.

Ana: I was hoping I could outpace it all. The noise. The feelings.

Susie: You're not a robot. No one’s asking you to be.

Ana: I have too many feelings, actually. They just… don’t like being perceived. Especially not by me.

Susie: You are so your father’s daughter it’s terrifying sometimes. You know I love you, right? Even when you’re a sleep-deprived raccoon in fleece.

Ana: Thanks, Susie.

Susie: Next time, text me before the Haribo hallucinations kick in, okay? I’ll bring tea and non-emotional distractions. Like British Bake Off reruns.

Ana: Deal.

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Dr.Anastasia “Ana” Wolff

Ana: I’m alive.

Max: you’re texting which means you didn’t die which is fantastic news for my blood pressure

Ana: Calm down.

Max: Calm down?? Ana, are you fucking kidding me right now?

Ana: I just woke up.

Max: You disappeared for three days, ghosted every message, probably rewrote half the powertrain manual, and now you want me to act normal?

Ana: Yes.

Max: absolutely not.  I thought something happened. I thought you collapsed at your desk or got electrocuted or walked straight into a jet fan because you were thinking about combustion ratios and forgot how walls work.

Ana: …only one of those is remotely plausible.

Max: Which one.

Ana: None of your business.

Max: You scared the shit out of me.

Ana: I didn’t mean to.

Max: Then what were you doing?

Ana: Not thinking about you. That was the plan. Didn’t work.

Max: You pulled a 48-hour lab lockdown to avoid your feelings for me?

Ana: I didn’t say that.

Max: You really need to work on your emotional repression outlets.

Ana: You’re the one making everything complicated.

Max: I texted you that I might change teams. You started hallucinating torque values and drinking Red Bull like it was IV fluid.

Ana: Max.

Max: Ana.

Ana: …my father had to tuck me in, you asshole.

Max: 😭���😭😭

Max: god i wish i had a photo framed. on my wall. above my sim rig.

Ana: I’m blocking you. Papa took me home. Tucked me in. It was deeply humiliating. Do not make it worse.

Max: i’m going to make it so much worse you got papa’d. your dad tucked you in like a little burrito. this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Ana: I hate you.

Max: it’s horrifying for you i understand

Ana: Do not send me memes. I’m still rebooting my brain.

Max: too late [attachment: “YOU WORKED 48 HOURS STRAIGHT? BABE YOU’RE A BIOHAZARD 💅” meme.jpeg]

Ana: I should’ve stayed asleep.

Max: i missed you. next time, disappear for less than 12 hours or i’m coming to Brackley and starting a dramatic scene in the simulator bay

Ana: That’s not a threat. That’s workplace misconduct.

Max: Try and stop me. You scared me. You don’t get to do that again.

Ana: I didn’t think you’d care that much.

Max: I do. ***

[formulafanfics13]

An Oscar fic where the F1 grid has cheer teams (like the NFL does) and the reader cheers for one of the teams and Oscar is very flirty with her and etc.

Eyes On Me, Boy - OP81

Masterlist

Summary: When F1 launches a cheer squad initiative — Grid Girls 2.0 — you become Ferrari’s top performer. What starts as light teasing turns into a months-long slow burn between you and Oscar Piastri. From backstage banter to thigh-high marker flirtations, the tension builds until Monaco, where one pre-race high kick too many finally breaks him. You find him after the race. And this time, he doesn’t just watch.

Warnings: Slow burn tension, flirty banter, public teasing, paddock gossip, heavy sexual tension, suggestive content, makeout scene, implied smut, cheerleader uniforms, mutual pining, Oscar Piastri being dangerously hot in race gear and saying exactlythe right things.

It’s the weirdest thing Formula 1 has done in years. And that’s saying something. The FIA’s latest rebrand idea, likely cooked up in a post-Monaco marketing coma, is simple: if the NFL has cheerleaders, why can’t F1?

Enter: The Grid Girls 2.0.

They’re nothing like the grid girls of old. This isn’t about standing still with an umbrella. This is choreography. Uniforms. Sponsor tie-ins. Full-on routines. Each team gets a cheer squad, custom kits, custom chants, fan interactions, full paddock presence. And somehow, you end up on the squad for Ferrari.

Which means every race weekend, you show up in navy blue crop tops and white pleated skirts, pom-poms in hand, fake lashes on, ready to sweat your ass off through a three-minute pre-quali routine that gets live-streamed to the world.

At first, the drivers hate it. Then they start watching. And then Oscar Piastri starts noticing you. It begins in Bahrain.

You’re stretching behind the paddock before your first run-through when he walks past. McLaren shirt. Slightly disheveled hair. Backpack slung over one shoulder. He slows. Glances back.

And doesn’t look away. You raise an eyebrow, grinning. “Can I help you, Piastri?”

He smirks. “Just admiring the competition.”

“I cheer for Ferrari.”

“I know. That’s what makes it fun.”

The teasing escalates. In Saudi, he brings you a Gatorade after practice and says, “Didn’t want you fainting in the heat. Gotta keep the entertainment alive.”

In Australia, you write “GO #81” on your thigh in marker as a joke. He notices. Hard. Can’t stop staring during media rounds.

In Miami, you’re mid-routine when you catch him filming you from the McLaren pit wall with a smug little smile. Later, he reposts the clip with a simple caption: “Good form. Could use work on the dismount though. — Coach”

In Spain, he shows up early to watch your full rehearsal. You come off the stage sweaty and out of breath. He offers you a towel and two fingers of a protein bar. “You stalking me?” you ask, tilting your head.

Oscar shrugs. “Maybe I like watching.”

You blink. He grins.

You eat the bar. “I’m still not switching teams.”

“Oh, I’m not trying to recruit you.” His eyes drop to your legs. “I just think you look better in orange.”

The paddock starts noticing. Lando’s the first to tease. Charles joins in when he sees you high-fiving Oscar outside the McLaren motorhome like it’s something you do now. Alex mutters “he’s gone” after Oscar zones out mid-strategy meeting staring at a TikTok you posted. Even Christian Horner asks if Oscar’s “considering a switch to cheer management.”

Oscar plays it cool. You don’t. You walk past the McLaren garage before every race and blow him a kiss. You leave little stickers with your squad number on his water bottle. You write “nice overtake, baby” on his driver room mirror in lipstick after his best quali of the year. And he loves it.

It comes to a head in Monaco. You’re in a new uniform, short white tennis skirt, tiny red tank, team logo embroidered in black thread. Hair up. Lip glossed. Confidence dialed to one thousand. You’re mid-pitlane walk for the pre-race hype routine, high kicks in full force, when Oscar stops walking to watch you. In front of everyone.

Sky Sports is mid-interview with Lando. Charles is tying his shoes. Lewis is sipping his bottle. And Oscar? Frozen. Staring. You catch his eye and wink. He mouths something. You can’t hear it over the music, but you read his lips perfectly.

“Come find me after.”

You do. His hotel room smells like eucalyptus and cologne. He opens the door shirtless, still in race pants, damp hair curling over his forehead, eyes dark with something that makes your stomach flip. “Took you long enough,” he murmurs.

You raise an eyebrow. “I was stretching.”

He steps closer. “I’ve been watching you stretch for months.”

Your breath catches. He notices. Of course he does. You shove him lightly in the chest. “You gonna kiss me or just flirt forever?”

He grins. “Both.”

And then he kisses you. Hard. Sweet. Addictive. Like he’s been waiting to do it since Bahrain. Like he wants to kiss you through every routine you’ve ever done.

You tangle your fingers in his hair and smile against his mouth. “Still think I look better in orange?”

He pulls you closer. Slides a hand up your thigh. Smirks. “I think you look best on top.”

[glowcircuit]

I built a miniature Va11 Hall-A Bar inside of my PC!!

Va11 Hall-A PC Parts & Build list

PC:

CPU : Intel I9 14900k

GPU: Intel Arc A770 16gb

Ram: Corsair Dominator 64gb 5600

Mobo: Maxsun Terminator Z790 D5 wifi

Hard drives M.2: Samsung 990 pro 2tb, Samsung 970 evo plus 1tb, CT 1tb,                                 Adata 500gb

PSU: ROG Thor 850 P2

Cables: Cablemod.com custom shortened and sleeved

Water loop distro : EKWB FLT 120 reservoir + D5 pump

Water loop cpu block: ThermalTake Pacific Mx2 Ultra 

Water loop radiators: Alphacool HPE 20 x 2

Water loop hardware: 15 Alphacool, 3 EKWB, 2 Alphacool soft, 2 granzon    

Water loop tubes: EKWB Acrylic tube 14mm, Alphacool 13/10 soft

Air Cooling : ThermalTake Toughfan 120mm x 3  + Controller

Air Cooling : Noctua 40mm pwm server fan x 2 (non visible)

Additional RGB Control : Coolermaster controller

Case:

Lian Li PC V600, left side mount, released in 2006, I acquired it in 2015 from PC Recycle in sodo Seattle.

I had to track down a new foot, one had been missing since I acquired the case (ebay)

Mods:These are the case mods I did personally

Cut a hole for the cpu mounts in the Motherboard mount plate as this case was designed for older hardware 

Cut two 120mm blowholes and added aluminum covers (Dremel)

Cut Front and rear windows into side panels (Dremel Max)

Moved PSU from vertical placement in the lower right side of the case in front of the CPU  to horizontal placement in the top left in old drive bays. 

The PSU bracket had to be cut to show the OLED on the side. 

Modded the side panel rail slide to accommodate the PSU, I used the original aluminum stand the psu was on, cut in half and epoxied with JB weld. 

Changed and moved Power/ Reset switch to the back of the case, shortened and spliced the cable

I cut and bent my own 14mm acrylic tubes (hobby miter, heat gun). 

Cut and made two way mirror for the front panel

Plastic "truss" is both functional and aesthetic. It came from a Gunpla accessory kit and has two cables passing through it and it acts as the GPU support. I could only get red and had to paint it.

Notice that some logos are missing/ covered, I dislike having a case as an advertisement. The Rog eye on the PSU is mostly covered but iykyk, most of the word "Intel" on the ARC GPU, Two of the Thermaltake logos on the fan edges, the Paint on the Thermaltake Mx2 Ultra and Maxsun terminator heatsink. (I will eventually cover the visible SSD with a heat sink, cover the fan info on the rear and work a cover for the word "dominator"). the one logo explicitly unchanged is the LianLi case badge, if I think of a perfect replacement, maybe then.

Mod I did not do:

I did NOT shorten and sleeve my own cables, I used cable-mod.com. I am not confident in my ability to do this.

BAR:

"Bar Tiny" Re-ment sets from Japan, 17 sets involved. 

 I customized the color of the bar and chairs and shortened one table for the mezzanine. The whole bar, minus barback- is on a removable 7 inch piece of black acrylic for cleaning.

Jill Stingray Nendoroid

Jils Cat, it sleeps on the GPU

Jill Stool: Jill is glued to a cute doll stool to see over the bar

Jill Accessories non-Nendoroid: cellphone, purse, coat (ebay)

Dorothy Haze Nendoroid

will be added on release.

Bar Back:I made this myself

Black acrylic sheet, and frosted acrylic rods.

Doll Light power kit: 8 Led lights, 4 incandescent lights

USB Doll light power strip

Other Bar Accessories:

Overhead Hanging farmhouse light

trash, mop, broom, pan, mop bucket, 

2 blue fuzzy chairs 

Miniature plants

Miniature Microphone

Mini bottle Dom Perignon, an xmas gift from my friend nemo, it's

 on the top shelf 

Problems and changes:

1. ARGB, pretty pretty pain in the ass. 4 pieces of software........

2. The water loop was changed extensively as hardware came in and space limitations were discovered. The biggest change is that I originally planned to have one radiator on the front of the case, the tubes running over Jills head and to light the tubes as lighting for the bar, to do this the fan would have been in the case proper pushing the whole bar to far into the mobo, it didn't work, so the loop was moved to the top of the case and caused me to have one complex bent tube 

 Second, I had planned the loop to use one sideport on the distro, but space limitation moved both ports to the top causing the complex fittings setup in that corner.   

3. The MOBO, sigh. This has been clearly the most challenging choice I made in this build, I really wanted it to work perfectly too, but I rolled those dice because: Aesthetic+function, the board I wanted (https://en.colorful.cn/en/home/product?mid=84&id=400d19bc-5655-49e1-b391-df00b60935ef) was to great a risk for the cost. This was a silver medal. 

I generally dislike the design options I had in the Z790 series of the big board makers (I  HATE big logos), especially the full ATX, there was one M that interested me, I should have picked it . This board has potential, but the BIOS is underdeveloped and compatibility has been problematic, I had to do a tricky outdated style BIOS update right from the box, and have had to reset the cmos a couple times. It skips BIOS on general boot and though stable, it will have to be addressed eventually, it doesn't have a proper sleep because of some issue between uefi & legacy. It may end up replaced, which will require a full build teardown.

the Turbo fan built into the board doesn't seem to function

Alos, the two argb connections on the mobo dont work, or I can't get them to recognize anything, necessitating the Coolermaster controller for the PSU and Distro. it is shoved behind the distro along with a Noctua 40mm

[athena-gundampla]

HG 1/144 World Economic Union Mass Production Transformable Mobile Suit SVMS-01 "Union Flag"

Picked up this funky little HG 00 kit from model building club last weekend. It's a pretty simple late 00s kit, just like others from its time, with just three sprues and not much in the way of optional parts. Regardless, it's still a very creative kit with a surprising amount of colour separation, even if it really only has two colours.

The Union Flag is one of the grunt suits from 00 Gundam, being the main fighting unit of the Union of Solar Energy and Free Nations or World Economic Union (world here being Europe, Australasia, and Japan, like some sort of bizzaro NATO, probably leading to the UN baby blue of the kit). It's a very Macross looking design, "transforming" into a fighter jet inspired flight form in a very seamless manner, without any parts-forming whatsoever (more than one could say of the HG Zeta or HG Macross kits). There's a bit of clever engineering in the waist and pelvis that lets everything rotate into orientation.

There's stil a fair amount of painting, despite the simple bicolour scheme. I added grey to the backs of the hands, the barrel and top of the linear rod rifle, and the insides of the air intakes and jet exhaust ports, as well as adding my standard metallic drybrush and pigment powder to all the grey sections. I also made sure to add a lot of sooty oil staining over the intakes and exhausts to give the impression of use. I also painted over the safety nubs on the wings, turning them into blue and green navigation lights (as I don't have a metallic red). I still don't trust myself to cut them off cleanly. I also added a bit of metallic weathering pigment over other high-points on the blue parts of the kit, helping accentuate the worn and used nature of the machine, and mask how plasticky the blue looks right out of the box.

This is a pretty simple and plain looking kit, with no included marking stickers so I made sure to deck it out with a ton of custom markings and decals. I don't have any 00 decals, so I had to just freehand the Union logo, but I think I did an alright job at it.

I also included some hit markers, a flying group decal on the leg, and a unit number, as well as some cool stripes and caution markers. There's a metallic silver sticker that goes behind the (UV reactive trans orange) visor, which was appreciated as it added a lot of nice shine even without a UV light. The M motif works well as a pilot identifier. I stole it from the Gyan decals meant for M'Quve, but I think it looks great here, contrasting nicely against the blue. I just wish I had some proper NATO or UN decals, as I feel these would've been thematically appropriate and gone well with the blue colouration of the kit.

I do think I should've placed the wing markings the other way around, as they look upside down when the kit is viewed from the rear.

This kit included the linear rod rifle, which slots into the waist in flight mode to form the "nose" of the plane. It's a little loose in the hand, and being designed to look good in plane mode makes it look a little awkward as a weapon, but I think I managed to make it look cool in a few poses. The gangly proportions of the kit certaintly don't help.

The kit also includes the bizzare "defense rod", a shield modeled after an aeroplane propeller that is meant to rotate in order to deflect incoming damage. It seems super impractical, but they manage to make it look cool and effective in the anime. I painted on the white tips as I don't like dealing with foil colour correction stickers when folded over sharp edges - they tend to lift.

Oddly enough, there are these little tabs under the wings that look like spots to add missile pods or other weapons, although none are included. If I find any spares from other people in my model club I'll probably come back and add them.

Further included is the sonic blade/plasma sword. In the anime, it's a small flip-out combat switchblade that vibrates at ultrasonic frequencies to cut through armour. It can also generate a plasma blade turning it into a large sword. Unfortunately, the age of the kit relegates this weapon into a single "chopstick" piece, only allowing display of the plasma sword form. There's also not really anywhere on the kit it can be stowed, so I'm not sure where it comes from. I painted it with metallic blue, but I really would have preferred a traditional transparent beam effect piece.

Overall it was a fun little build, that let me prectise using my new liquid panel liners, as well as pracitse decals and weathering. Might take a bit of a break from gunpla for a bit, until I have more display room.

[shiggybrainr0t]

you encounter a rude customer on your night shift at the convenience store.

a/n: just wanted to write something quickly !! this was inspired by all the times people obviously stole at my job and how often i let them get away with it because i do not get paid enough to care 🫶🏻 also shigaraki’s handwriting would look like a kindergartner’s and no you can’t argue. not edited.

It’s a stormy night the first time you see him.

Working 3rd shift at the convenience store down the block from your apartment meant you were going to see some dodgy characters every now and again. Tonight just happened to be one of those nights.

He looked like a drowned rat standing in the doorway. His hoodie was soaked through, which made it stick to his surprisingly toned torso. His long white hair was plastered to his face and neck, that were covered in itchy looking patches of dry skin and scars.

His eyes, a muted shade of red, narrowed your way as you propped on the counter lazily. With a huff, he completely ignored your muttered “welcome” and walked off towards the back coolers where you knew the energy drinks were displayed.

You shifted your eyes back to large windows at the front of the store and watched the rain hit the pavement outside for a little longer until something in the large round mirror placed specifically at the corner of the store caught your eye. The drowned rat was stealing.

And not very well. Honestly, you don’t even think he was trying to hide it. Various candy bars got stuffed into his hoodie pockets before he made his way back to the front where you were. He placed a single energy drink on the counter; its gaudy logo of a lightening bolt glaring at you in all its neon glory.

With a sigh, you scanned it before looking up at him. He already seemed to know what you were thinking, if the sneer on his face begging you to make a comment implied anything. In the split second you made eye contact with him, you decided that you really did not get paid enough to care if the cute but raggedy drowned rat stole some candy bars at one in the morning.

“That’ll be $4.24 sir.”

He seemed surprised. His facial expression smoothed out, and in place of the sneer was casual indifference and maybe a little bit of gratitude. He seemed really tired now that his face wasn’t curled up, and you could appreciate his good looks for what they were. He was shockingly pretty, even with the scars.

With crooked fingers, he counted out the exact change on the counter. Without ever speaking a word, he left the change scattered on the counter before turning around swiftly and heading towards the automated doors.

“At least leave me a candy bar!” This was said mostly out of spite for his rudeness, but later that morning whenever you finally left the store, there was a matcha Kit Kat placed on the ground by the door with a small note stuck to it. In honestly some of the worst handwriting you’ve ever seen, it only had one word written: thanks.

[chimaerakirin]

SOULSEKAI

It's the end of the world as they know it, and Shigaraki Tomura feels fine. February 26, 6 AM. This is not what he was planning to do today, but he can work with it. Frankly, this might be even better. This is not at all what Midoriya Izuku was planning to do today, and it's a disaster. He's going to miss the UA Entrance Exam! Where are his shoes, and who's this voice in his head calling him Ninth?

Rated M for violence (Soulslike-appropriate) and Language (also Soulslike-appropriate). Later chapters may go up to E, because I will not allow Tomura to be maidenless.

<-First - Ninth - TENTH - Eleventh->

Reunion

Tomura turns around and scans for the source of the voice. "Kurogiri?"

The one person looking back at him raises a hand. The height is right, a good twenty centimeters taller than Tomura, and the coloring of the ends of the hair and the pupils of the eyes is familiar, but the fact that this guy has visible pupils, or a face at all, doesn't match any more than the rest of the hair and eyes (pale and sky blue, respectively). He's not sure what to think of the outfit either, which looks like mage/fighter hybrid armor (a robe, but a short one for good mobility, with leather for extra defense), and the Wukong-looking staff slung over one shoulder. The weirdest thing though, is probably the mix of hope and relief he can see on this guy's face. Kurogiri doesn't emote like that.

He takes a half-step back automatically. "You don't look right. Prove it's you."

The guy blinks at him for a second, then he reaches up and pulls two things out of his inventory. A pack of matcha-flavored Kit-kats, and a Swiss Army Knife with custom translucent dark purple scales and a tritium-yellow logo. "Does this count?"

He knows that knife. He remembers swiping the credit card Sensei gave them to order it online, the extra fees for the special colors and rush delivery, and the post box rental for the delivery so Kurogiri wouldn't find it at their usual pickup address. How he waited until Kurogiri went out to get the spare game controllers and Panda Express he had delivered to the usual address, then snuck behind the bar, stole the normal bottle opener and left the knife in its place.

And the matcha candy, which Kurogiri never seems to run out of. Tomura hates sugary things, flavors like milk chocolate and strawberry make him choke, but green tea cuts through the sugar in other sweets, so Kurogiri always offers him this when he wants something. He's not stupid, he knows they're bribes, or treats for good behavior, but it's one of the few things Kurogiri didn't forget after that time the Doctor took him away and gave him back wrong, so he goes along with it.

"…Do you really just keep that candy in your pocket all the time?" he finally asks.

The man laughs. "What, you didn't think I kept it in a box under the bar, did you?"

Okay, the knowledge is Kurogiri's at least. "You don't?"

"No, I kept the important stuff hidden in my warp gate."

"Wait, in?" What kind of portals— Oh. Ohhh. Kurogiri would tell the bar patrons that he hates cleaning viscera out of his gate as a threat to keep them from brawling. But that implies there's somewhere for the blood and guts to get caught. That means Warp Gate has hammerspace. Had. Same difference. "Where did it all go when Warp Gate stopped existing? Is that why you have a face now? What Skill did Warp Gate turn into?"

"Inventory, I always had a face it just wasn't visible, and Circle of Recall." The man — Kurogiri — stashes the pocket knife and puts the Kit-kat in his hand, then pulls him into a hug. "I'm so glad to see you again. This is definitely not a place I would want to go without you."

Suddenly, he's eight years old again, just woken from a nightmare where everything falls apart around him, and he can't stop himself from hugging back, hands clenched into fists to keep from accidentally decaying the only person who genuinely made things better. "Giri—"

"Tomura!"

…He completely forgot about Midoriya, didn't he.

"Tomura, why'd you run off— Oh. Um, wh-who's this?"

Two weeks ago, Tomura would have jumped back like he'd been burned. Now, he's oddly reluctant to let go, and has to work at peeling away from the hug. "Remember I told you about my butler?"

Midoriya lights up. "Oh, the one with the really cool warp Quirk?"

"Yeah. This is him. Kurogiri. Kurogiri, this is my party." He points to each of them in turn. "Cleric, Ranger, Cleric's level-up girl—"

"Hey!" Yoichi yelps.

Tomura flips him off then switches fingers and points to Ciaran. "And Dragonhound. Some kind of DPS. I'm not sure which yet."

Ciaran yips.

"I'm glad you've made friends, Tomura. Why don't you all come with me, and you can tell me what you've been up to since you got here while I get you some drinks."

Tomura stares at him. "We went through a mass isekai event, and you're still tending bar?"

Kurogiri stares back. "Of course. Gotta make money somehow. I was actually on my way to work when you caught up. You never said how close you were to Bellhaven, so I didn't call out." He turns and starts heading toward… the next building, actually.

Tomura follows automatically. "Money's good, but what about Motes? Please tell me you figured out how to level up."

"Of course I did. I'd have been pretty well screwed if you didn't talk my ear off about these games though. We farm motes during the day and cash in the evening." Kurogiri's hand skips through the air, and his outfit changes to the same sort of shirt and pants Warrick gave them all, except the shirt has the usual baggy sleeves tied tight around the upper arms, the pants are a little looser, and there's a belted apron and leather boots to go with it. He hangs a triple loop of some long bandage-looking fabric around Ciaran's neck, then loops his old striped necktie around that. "I don't think you'll fit inside buddy, but nobody will bother you if you're wearing this."

Ciaran glances at Tomura, who nods, then yawns and sits down next to the door.

Kurogiri leads them inside, then points to the bar while sliding around behind it, the guy who was already back there leaving with a nod and going to the back room. Since the rest of the stools are empty except for one, he immediately starts pouring. One mug in and he pauses, looking at Midoriya. "How old are you again?"

"Uh, fi-fifteen?"

"Right. You want a soft drink? I've got plum juice and chicory coffee, and I can probably manage mint or barley tea."

"What's chicory coffee?" the kid asks.

Kurogiri produces a plant cutting with a lightish blue flower on top. Tomura thinks he's seen it on the side of the road. "This is chicory. Grows all over the place, and the whole plant is edible. If you cut up and roast the root, you can brew it like coffee. There's no caffeine in it, but it tastes similar to real coffee, if a bit nuttier. A bunch of people from… our neighborhood, let's say, drink it just for the habit."

"I'll try that then, I guess. I don't really drink coffee but if there's no caffeine…"

Kurogiri pulls a clay jug out of his inventory and pours a dark brown liquid into a cup, which steams slightly as he pushes it over to Midoriya. The jug goes back into his inventory, and he looks at Yoichi and Beros.

"Beer's fine," Yoichi says, and the first mug is slid in his direction. Beros nods, and gets an identical one.

Tomura opens his mouth.

"You're not getting whole beer," Kurogiri interrupts. "It's still three weeks until your birthday."

"There's not even a law about that here!" he complains. "It was stupid enough when there was a law!"

"If you don't want your birthday present…"

Tomura freezes. Closes his mouth. "…What present?"

"Not telling. But if you want it on your birthday and not whenever you hit level… I don't know, fifty, you'll wait until you're legal by Japanese standards."

"That's blackmail! When did you even learn how to do that?"

"It's incentive, and I always knew how to do that. Sensei just wouldn't let me. So what'll it be?"

Tomura glares at him for a minute, then unwraps the Kit-kat and shoves one of the bars into his mouth. "Small beer," he grumbles around the candy. Kurogiri doesn't lie, so odds are that whatever the present is, he really wants it, and talking with his mouth full is as far as he's willing to go to show his annoyance if the man really can tell him 'no' now.

Kurogiri beams at him, almost as bright as Midoriya's smile, and gives him a pint of liquid bread. One more mug for himself, out of the same barrel as Tomura's drink, and he looks over the group. "So, I can guess your skillsets, mostly, but what are your names? And the dog's name, for that matter."

"The dog is Ciaran," Tomura says.

"Beros," the archer says quietly. "From Otheon."

Kurogiri squints at her. "I know that name. Aren't you one of Flect Turn's highest-ranking officers?"

"Yes," she admits. "But in his absence, and the absence of Quirks, I have accepted the leadership of the Pure Ones."

Kurogiri raises an eyebrow. "Pure Ones?"

"Yeah, the red shoe thing," Tomura explains, staring as hard as he can at the bartender.

Said bartender's eyes narrow. Tomura can make out a flash of realization and anger before his expression clears. "Well, I hope you've got a clear idea of what you'll do if you find him. If you're only in the group temporarily, everyone should be clear on that ahead of time so there are no surprises or hard feelings."

He and Beros stare at each other for a second, then she nods. "I understand. I will… have to consider it."

"And you two?" Kurogiri asks the kid and the old man.

"Um, I'm Midoriya Izuku, and this is my uh… great-something uncle? Shigaraki Yoichi."

Kurogiri chokes on his drink. "Sorry, could you repeat that? Without the hat on?"

Tomura gives him a weird look. Midoriya just unequips his helmet and stutters, "Mi-Midoriya Izuku and um, Sh-Shigaraki Yoichi?"

"What's your father's name? And where does he work?"

"Midoriya Hisashi, in the American office at Arukan Solutions? Is something wrong? Tomura said his dad owns the company, do you know him?" Midoriya frowns. "Wait, hey Tomura, what's your dad's name?"

Tomura stares between him and Kurogiri. Which given name does Sensei use with the surname he gave Tomura again…? Oh, right. "Shigaraki Hisashi."

Yoichi lets out a muffled groan. Midoriya doesn't ask why though, and instead stares at Tomura in confusion. "But… you said he founded Arukan. Arukan's founder is Marubashi Akihiko."

Shit. He really did fuck up then didn't he. "He used an alias. It's a big company, he likes his privacy."

"Tomura, don't…" Kurogiri sounds incredibly tired. And sort of baffled. "Midoriya-kun, when's the last time you saw your father in person?"

"Oh, um… When I was about four, I think? That's when he got transferred to the American office. We used video chat after that… But then when I was nine something happened, I think he said a security breach, and it's only been voice calls since then…"

Kurogiri gets even more tired-looking, and turns to Yoichi, who just nods. Then he turns back to Tomura. "How much do you remember before Sensei changed… my terms of employment?"

"You mean when I was nine? When you were more… like this? What about it?"

"Do you remember why he changed the rules?"

Tomura stares into his drink, at the grain floating like boba. There's something Kurogiri's trying to tell him, but he can't figure out what. Why did Sensei send him to the Doctor? What was Kurogiri doing wrong? He remembers being absolutely miserable when he was nine. Constant nightmares, itching like never before, anger and fear and so much dusted furniture that even Sensei got tired of it. There was something he wanted. And Kurogiri just kept repeating in a monotone that there was no such thing. And Sensei kept telling him he must have imagined whatever it was, that it was just a dream, and he was too old for that, and gave him a giant pile of pre-Quirk games when he finally stopped asking. What was it that he wanted? Wait. No. Who. Who did he want? "He told me I was too old for… imaginary friends?"

"Go a little further back. Do you remember me arguing with him?"

"You can't argue with him," Tomura objects automatically. But his mind is still running. Kurogiri's voice, raised. He never raises his voice. But he did, once. What were the words, something about… Needing stability? Routine?

You gave him a younger brother, told him he would be his to protect, then took that away! Of course he's upset! And a change that significant after two years, when I've told you how important routine is to him! And he isn't the only one either!

What are you suggesting?

I'm saying that your son is very much like Tomura in that regard. I would hazard a guess that the young master is also rather upset by the change. To split them up like that—

ENOUGH. I chose you for your caring nature. Perhaps I chose too well. You will report to the good doctor tomorrow for adjustment.

That… that was the last night Kurogiri tucked him in, wasn't it? Little brother? Sensei's son? What did he look like?

The Yoshi pajamas again, Tomura? It's not Friday, you know.

But Yoshi is Zuzu-colored, and Zuzu's more important than Fridays!

Green. He was green. Fluffy, curly green hair, huge bright green eyes, freckles, and always following Tomura around like a little duck. Zuzu. Zuku.

Izuku. Izuku who has the same eyes as Yoichi, Yoichi who died a hundred years ago, who had no idea how old he was but played all the same old games that Tomura has, the same old games that Sensei gave him.

Wow, where did you get all these games, Sensei? These are really rare!

They belonged to my brother. You'll treat them well, won't you?

Yoichi who looks so much like Sensei when he's angry, who looks at him weird whenever he mentions Sensei, and Izuku, who also looks sort of like Sensei, who Yoichi says looks like his brother did when they were young.

And all the things that he's just been. Not thinking about. Fall out of the box he shoved them into in the back of his head. The red shoes, the stats and name the system gave Father, the lack of itching and reflexive, visceral hate for the whole idea of Heroes…

The title the system gave him.

"Why?"

"Tomura?" Kurogiri's voice.

"Why did he keep taking things away? Even you, he took you away and only pretended to give you back. He said I could have anything, why'd he take it away? He didn't even let me remember!"

"He's always been like that," Yoichi says quietly. "Why do you think I didn't know how old I was when I died? There were two vaults. One was a gilded cage. The other was a black box. Every time he moved me from one to the other, he'd reset all the clocks. Forty was just the bare minimum from the save files I was able to add up after he tampered with those too."

"Wait, how old were you then?" Midoriya asks, wide-eyed.

"About five minutes younger than him. A year older than the Glowing Baby. I was born weak, I was allergic to practically everything, asthma and a heart condition, I should have died by the time I was thirty. I didn't realize exactly why he did what he did until you said how long it had been. I assumed it was another control thing. It was almost always a control thing."

"I think it was your games he gave me. I started playing because he gave me your games. It was a reward for… For forgetting." Tomura swallows, nauseous.

"What'd he make you forget that time?" 'That time,' like it was a given there was more.

Tomura gives Kurogiri a pleading look, and the bartender sighs and reaches into his inventory. "If he knew I had taken this in the first place, let alone kept it…" He hands a square of glossy but battered paper over, laying it between Tomura and Izuku.

Tomura remembers this… His ninth birthday, the last time he celebrated it. Katsudon, matcha ice cream, and a visit from Zuzu. In the photograph, three-year-old Zuzu is clinging to his shoulders, smiling like the sun with a hand tangled in Tomura's hair, a bright yellow onesie hood falling off his stupidly fluffy green hair. A Pikachu onesie, Tomura suggested it to Sensei himself because Zuzu's favorite was, gag, All Might, and the Pikachu ears might confuse him into wearing stuff that wasn't Hero-branded. It didn't, but Zuzu loved it anyway because Sensei let Tomura give it to him. Zuzu loved anything Tomura gave him.

Izuku stares at the photo, wide-eyed. "Is that me? I don't remember that… I mean, the hoodie yeah, but not…"

"Yes you do," Yoichi tells him. "Just not consciously. You were dreaming about something like this that night back in Gnarlwood. I can't read your mind, per se, not like flipping through a book, but if I'm not out here I can still see what you're thinking at the moment. Dreams count."

"Light hair… red eyes… I thought that was Kacchan. Dad told me I was talking about Kacchan. Why'd he…?"

Kurogiri sighs. "Because you were diagnosed Quirkless. Specifically, your mother took you to the doctor on her own. She wasn't supposed to do that, and the doctor didn't know which of his patients he was maintaining that clinic for. Sensei had him set up that practice under alias because he didn't trust anyone else with your health, but didn't tell him you were the priority in case he got… weird ideas about being helpful. Sensei was going to take you for a development scan himself if you didn't show signs of a Quirk by five, but he was away for a week unexpectedly, after a Quirk trafficking ring turned out to be poaching, selling out of the country without giving him a list of 'product.'"

"That's disgusting, and yet I'm not at all surprised," Yoichi says dryly.

"Major rule in the underworld, Sensei has dibs in perpetuity on all Quirks for sale. He takes the ones that interest him, and they don't get taxed on percentage." Kurogiri shrugs. "Or at least that's how it was until six years ago. Anyway, once your mother had the diagnosis, he couldn't order the doctor to fudge the results and say you were a late bloomer. And for some reason he didn't want to protect you 'the usual way' as he called it—"

"The vault," Yoichi translates.

"So he had to leave in case All Might tracked him down. I think he believed All Might would do to him what he had done to All Might's predecessor. I don't really know what that means, but he said something like keeping his eggs in different baskets."

Yoichi snorts. "I know what it means and it's him having no idea how normal people work. Again. The eggs comment is… worrying though. Please continue."

"He told Midoriya-san that he was getting promoted to the American office, but he never told her about the other household, meaning Tomura and myself. Still not sure how he got her katsudon recipe for me. From what I heard about her, if she knew about us, she'd never accept 'Quirk Issues' as a reason to keep her husband's adopted son away from the rest of the family, and he couldn't have Tomura raised the way he wanted if she was there to care about him. So the boys had to be separated. I told him it wouldn't go well, and it didn't. Apparently he gaslit the hell out of both of you to fix the problem. The plan was that when you, Izuku, turned sixteen, he'd offer you any Quirk in his collection, or more if your body could handle it, in exchange for coming to the Dark Side. You would be Tomura's sidekick, more or less, his analyst and advisor." Kurogiri hums in thought. "He hasn't said anything about it since he ended up on life support, but the doctor's recent experiments with that mercenary make me think he'd offer you a limited copy of his own Quirk."

"My dad's Quirk is Boric Dragonbreath though?" Midoriya whispers. "Breathing fire…"

"Are the flames green?" Yoichi asks. "Yeah, he's had that one since I died, at least."

"Sensei's Quirk is taking and giving Quirks," Tomura rasps. He's numb at this point, in a way he hasn't been since he was invisible on the streets. "I think he gave me Decay. I didn't have it until I was five. My family died because of that. I didn't even know it was me until only my father was left."

"And what happened to him?" Yoichi asks.

Tomura rubs the scar on his lip. "Him I killed on purpose, after he swung the garden shears at my head."

Yoichi stares at the scar, then narrows his eyes. "That begs the question of why he'd give a five year old a Quirk with that much power without saying anything. What was your name before he adopted you?"

"…Shimura. Why?"

"Weird, that's my mom's maiden name," Midoriya mumbles.

"I knew you two looked related," Beros says.

Yoichi just groans. "Nii-san you son of a bitch. And yes I know she was my mother too, my point stands. These are the eggs he was talking about."

"What do you mean?" Kurogiri asks.

"Shimura Nana was All Might's predecessor. His teacher. She was practically his mother, it's not like he had anyone else. But they only met after my brother killed her husband and left a picture of her son's preschool in the mess. She put Kotaro in foster care to protect him. Her daughter was born a few months later, and she went straight into the system from the hospital. Nana didn't even give her a first name, the nurses were told to pick one once she left the hospital, so she wouldn't know what it was."

"She was a Hero?" Tomura asks dully.

"Yeah. One of the best, if anyone asks me."

"Did she have yellow gloves and a white cape?"

"…You saw the picture she left with Kotaro then?"

Tomura scoffs. "Saw it. He beat my ass for looking at it, the day they all died. Told me she wasn't my grandmother, just a monster, and Heroes are people who hurt their own families just so they can turn around and help complete strangers."

"I knew that was going to backfire somehow, she should never have banned Torino from checking on him… My brother must have been collecting psychological weapons. He hid the Midoriyas away from himself because he couldn't comprehend the idea that All Might wouldn't be able to treat any of Nana's family like an enemy even if they walked up and stabbed him, and assumed that if All Might found them, he'd kill one and hang a death threat over the other to draw him out, because that's exactly what he did." Yoichi snickers briefly, ruffling Midoriya's hair. "He should have hid you in America or something, considering how you've spent the last year. Summer break would be just a bit too late for his plans."

Midoriya is quiet for several minutes, staring at the photo still lying on the bar. "…You said Shimura Nana was sort of All Might's mom? And she's my grandmother?"

"I've seen a few memories of your mom in your head, she looks a bit more like Kosuke than Kotaro did, she's definitely one of those Shimuras. And yeah, Eight was a foster kid. There was no legal adoption, that would have meant paperwork for my brother to find, but he ate more dinners with her than at his actual foster home."

"So that means…" Tomura can see the gears grinding in his eyes. It's extremely familiar. And worrying, given the topic. "All Might is my uncle?!"

"Eh, close enough. And Nii-san's brother-in-law now that you mention it, which is hilarious."

Tomura's head thumps on the bar. "That's the most depressing thing I've heard in this entire conversation, and I was just told I was only adopted to grief All Might, by a guy who made me kill my dog."

Someone, probably Kurogiri, pats him on the head. "Yes, but, you got Zuzu back and found out you really are related to him. So there's that."

This is true. Without raising his head, Tomura reaches out and flails around until he locates the texture of fluffy curls, then yanks the attached body over to hold protectively against his side. "My Zuzu."

Slowly, arms wrap around his ribs and squeeze. "It's okay, Tomu-nii. I'm back now. I'm not going anywhere."

The sound of a camera shutter goes off, and Tomura lifts his head just enough to see Kurogiri with his phone aimed at them. "What? I need an updated picture of you two."

Yoichi laughs.

[spacepepperstudios4]

Video Production Services in Delhi NCR – Tell the Story of Your Brand with Spacepepper Studios

Spacepepper Studios is a leading video production company in Delhi NCR, empowering brands to connect with their audiences through meaningful and impactful visual storytelling. With over a decade of experience, we specialize in producing videos that engage customers, inspire teams, and attract new business opportunities.

Video Production – The Modern Marketing Essential

In today’s digital world, video content is no longer optional—it’s a powerful tool to influence, inform, and convert your audience. When created strategically, videos can outperform nearly every other form of marketing. If your business in Delhi NCR isn’t leveraging video yet, now’s the time to start. Partnering with a professional agency like Spacepepper Studios can elevate your brand and deliver exceptional returns on investment.

Our Video Production Services

On-Location Videos

We specialize in shooting videos at locations that align with your brand's identity and message. With our skilled crew and advanced equipment, we ensure professional quality and storytelling that truly resonates with your audience.

Explainer Videos & Animations

Animated videos are the ideal way to simplify complex concepts. At Spacepepper Studios, we create visually engaging 2D animations that convey your message clearly and creatively, making it easier for your audience to understand and act.

Corporate Videos

Our corporate videos help establish brand credibility, build trust, and showcase your company’s culture, services, or milestones. Whether for internal communications or public campaigns, we help you make a strong and lasting impression.

Product Demo Videos

Demonstrate how your product or service works with clear, informative, and captivating videos. We blend narration, visuals, and music to create demo videos that educate users while reinforcing your brand value.

Video Ads & Commercials

From YouTube pre-rolls to television spots, we produce ads that grab attention and drive action. Our team can script, shoot, animate, and edit everything from branded content to sponsored videos tailored for digital and broadcast platforms.

Testimonials & Interview Videos

Customer testimonials and interviews are powerful tools to build trust. Let your happiest clients and team members share their experiences on camera to inspire confidence and increase conversion rates.

Social Media Videos

Tailored video content for platforms like Instagram, LinkedIn, Facebook, and YouTube is essential to stand out online. We craft platform-specific videos with the right tone, visuals, and strategy to captivate your digital audience.

Animated Logos

Give your brand a dynamic identity with a custom animated logo. These short yet powerful animations enhance brand recall and create a more professional and modern brand experience across platforms.

E-Learning Videos

We create educational videos for online learning platforms, schools, and corporates. Our engaging formats help learners retain knowledge better, making learning accessible, efficient, and enjoyable.

The Spacepepper Studios Process – From Idea to Impact

1. Pre-Production

We begin with understanding your goals, audience, and message. Our team then handles:

Audience and channel research

Concept development and scripting

Storyboarding and shot planning

Location scouting and talent sourcing

Scheduling and obtaining necessary permissions

2. Production

This is where the vision comes to life. Our production team uses the latest equipment, including HD cameras, drones, and lighting kits, supported by skilled professionals such as directors, cinematographers, sound engineers, and makeup artists.

3. Post-Production

In this phase, we enhance your video with:

Editing and sequencing

Animation and visual effects

Voice-over recording

Sound design and music scoring

Color correction and final mastering

4. Marketing & Distribution

We don’t stop at delivery. We also assist with strategizing the launch, optimizing for platforms, tracking performance, and refining content to meet KPIs and generate maximum ROI.

Why Spacepepper Studios for Video Marketing in Delhi NCR?

At Spacepepper Studios, we believe that personalized, impactful videos are key to modern marketing. We help brands communicate their unique value with clarity and creativity.

We understand that your business is dynamic and complex—so we create layered visual stories that go beyond plain words. Whether you need a brand film, an explainer, a social ad, or an educational module, we can bring your message to life through video.

[digitalsfontssoccer]

Argentina 50 Años Jersey Font – Celebrate a Legacy in Style

Celebrate the golden legacy of Argentine football with the exclusive Argentina 50 Años Jersey Font – a tribute to the nation’s rich history and its collaboration with Adidas. Perfect for custom jerseys, Cricut projects, or football-themed gifts, this font echoes the design of Argentina's 50th Anniversary Kit and honors their 1978 World Cup win.

👉 Get the Argentina 50 Años Jersey Font on Etsy

🏆 Adidas x Argentina 50th Anniversary Kit – On-Pitch Tribute

Kit Release & Debut: Adidas released the Argentina 50th Anniversary Kit on November 14th, 2024, and the national team debuted it during a match against Peru on November 19th.

Design & Features: The kit blends classic white and light blue stripes with gold details, including the Adidas Trefoil logo and AFA lettering. It features a special collar graphic, black and gold shorts, and matching socks. The look is both modern and nostalgic.

Historical Significance: This is Argentina’s first-ever anniversary kit, celebrating 50 years of partnership with Adidas, which began in 1974. Though Argentina worked with other brands like Le Coq Sportif in the past, the Adidas connection was renewed in 2001 and remains iconic today.

Color Palette:

Main color: Ambient Sky

Gold accents for the Trefoil, AFA, and laurel wreath

3 stars symbolizing Argentina’s World Cup wins

🎨 What You’ll Get – Argentina 50 Años Font

This font is inspired by the unique number and name styling seen in the anniversary kit. You’ll receive:

✅ OTF & TTF files for easy installation

✅ Complete A–Z and 0–9 set

✅ Retro feel blended with modern block design

✅ High-resolution quality for vinyl and fabric use

👉 Get the Argentina 50 Años Jersey Font on Etsy

🖨️ How to Customize Your Jersey

Whether you're a collector or a fan who loves to wear your pride, you can apply this font to your own kit using:

Install the font on your computer

Open your software (like Canva, Illustrator, Cricut)

Create your name + number using this font

Export it for print

Use HTV or DTF printing with a heat press for best results

🛠️ 5 Best Tools for Using Football Jersey Fonts

To create your custom designs professionally, try:

Canva – Quick and easy mockups

Cricut Design Space – For vinyl cutting and layout

Adobe Illustrator – Vector editing and pro design

CorelDRAW – Great for large-format printing

Inkscape – A free alternative for SVG editing

🛍️ Why Buy from Etsy?

Our fonts are listed on Etsy, a safe and trusted marketplace for creatives. With instant download and secure checkout, Etsy gives you:

🔐 Trusted payments

📥 Immediate access to your files

✉️ Easy communication and support

🌍 Global accessibility

👉 Get the Argentina 50 Años Jersey Font on Etsy

❓ Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ)

Can I use this font with Cricut or Silhouette? Yes – the SVG and vector files are fully compatible.

Is this an official AFA font? No. This is a fan-made recreation inspired by the 50 Años kit for personal use.

Can I sell jerseys made with this font? The font is for personal use only. Contact us if you need a commercial license.

What formats are included? You’ll get OTF, TTF, SVG, AI, EPS files in a zip download.

How do I install the font? Just double-click the OTF or TTF file and click "Install" on your Mac or PC.

—

Unlocking the Style: The Significance of the 🇦🇷 Argentina 50 Años Jersey Font

The Historical Context of the 🇦🇷 Argentina 50 Años Jersey

Argentina football history, 50 years celebration, soccer jersey design, iconic sportswear

The Design Elements that Make the 🇦🇷 Argentina 50 Años Jersey Font Unique

jersey typography, font design in sportswear, visual identity, branding in jerseys

Why the Right Font Matters in Sports Jerseys: A Look at Impact and Recognition

sports branding, jersey recognition, fan engagement through design, typography importance in sports

The Influence of Typography on Team Spirit and Fan Culture

fan loyalty symbols, cultural significance of fonts, community identity through jerseys

A Closer Look at How to Acquire Your Own 🇦🇷 Argentina 50 Años Jersey Font Design

where to buy jerseys online, custom jersey options, limited edition sportswear availability

Conclusion: Celebrate Argentine Football Legacy with the Iconic 50 Años Jersey Font Today!

👉 Get the Argentina 50 Años Jersey Font on Etsy

Unlock the Nostalgia: Discover the Argentina 50 Años Jersey Font

Introduction: The Significance of the Argentina 50 Años Jersey

Argentina football history, commemorative jersey, sports design, football culture, jersey typography

The Unique Style of the Argentina 50 Años Jersey Font

jersey font design, typography in sports, unique athletic fonts, visual identity, custom jersey fonts

How to Incorporate the Argentina 50 Años Jersey Font into Your Designs

graphic design tips, sports branding, using jersey fonts in projects, personalizing jerseys, font applications

The Legacy of Argentina's Football Achievements Celebrated Through Design

football achievements history, Argentine football legends, cultural impact of sports jerseys, iconic designs in football history

Where to Find and Download the Argentina 50 Años Jersey Font for Your Projects

font download sources, free font resources for designers, where to buy jersey fonts online, creative marketplace options for fonts

Conclusion: Celebrate Argentine Football History by Using the Iconic 50 Años Jersey Font Today!

👉 Get the Argentina 50 Años Jersey Font on Etsy

[eastlondonprinter1]

Feather Flags: The Smart Way to Boost Your Brand Visibility

If you're a small business owner, event organiser, or market trader, getting noticed is one of the most important parts of your work. With so much competition out there, you need something eye-catching, affordable, and easy to use. That’s where Feather Flags come in.

At East London Printer, we design and print custom feather flags that help you get the attention your business or event deserves. Whether you want to attract foot traffic, promote a special offer, or simply build your brand presence, our feather flags are a great way to do it.

 What Are Feather Flags?

Feather flags are tall, curved banners that are mounted on poles. They are usually placed outdoors, in front of a shop, on the street, at an event, or anywhere else with good visibility. These flags are shaped to gently flutter in the wind, which naturally catches people’s eyes — making them perfect for drawing attention.

Also known as:

Sail flags

Promo flags

Wind flags

Advertising flags

Beach flags

They are great for both indoor and outdoor use and can be reused again and again.

 Why Do Businesses Use Feather Flags?

Feather flags are popular for many reasons:

1. They Attract Attention

The movement of the flag and its tall design makes people look. That means more eyes on your brand.

2. They’re Customisable

You can add your business logo, colours, message, slogan, or contact details to the flag.

3. They’re Lightweight and Easy to Set Up

Anyone can carry, install, and pack away a feather flag. No tools needed.

4. They’re Cost-Effective

Compared to big signs or digital ads, feather flags are affordable and last a long time.

5. They Work Anywhere

Use them outside your shop, at a fair, on the pavement, in a field — wherever you are, your flag works for you.

 Who Uses Feather Flags?

Feather flags are used by:

Local shops and salons

Coffee vans and food stalls

Event organisers

Exhibitions and markets

Car washes and garages

Estate agents

Schools and community centres

Fitness studios and gyms

Festivals and charity events

Whether you're advertising a grand opening, limited-time offer, or open house, a custom feather flag can help deliver the message loud and clear.

 What Can You Print on a Feather Flag?

There are so many design possibilities! Common flag ideas include:

"Now Open"

"Today’s Special"

"Sale - Up to 50% Off"

"Welcome"

"Fitness Classes Here"

Your logo and slogan

Website, social media handles, or QR codes

You tell us what you want, and we’ll turn your idea into a bold, full-colour printed feather flag.

 What Sizes and Shapes Are Available?

We offer feather flags in various sizes to match your space and visibility needs:

Small (2.5m) – Great for indoor events or narrow areas

Medium (3.5m) – Popular for shopfronts and walkways

Large (4.5m) – Best for wide open spaces and busy roadsides

Each flag comes with a base suited to your needs — like a cross base for flat ground, a water-filled base for windy areas, or a ground spike for grassy surfaces.

 Fast Turnaround & Friendly Service

At East London Printer, we know how important deadlines can be. Whether you’re preparing for an event or launching a new service, we’ll make sure your flags are ready on time.

We offer:

Fast design support

Same-day or next-day printing (subject to availability)

Collection from East London

Delivery available UK-wide

Need help with artwork? Our in-house design team can assist you, free of charge.

 What’s Included in a Feather Flag Order?

Your custom feather flag kit includes:

Printed flag (with your design)

Lightweight, strong pole

Base (choose from 3 types)

Carry bag for easy transport

Just send us your design or idea, and we’ll handle the rest.

 Why Choose East London Printer?

We’re not just printers — we’re local, reliable, and care about your results. Our customers choose us because:

We offer honest, friendly service

We produce high-quality flags that last

We respond quickly and get the job done

We work with small and large businesses alike

We’re based in East London and offer fast service

Whether you’re ordering one flag or one hundred, you’ll get the same care and quality.

📞 Ready to Stand Out?

Let us help your business or event grab attention with a custom feather flag today.

📧 Email: hello@eastlondonprinter.co.uk 📞 Call: +44 (0)20 7041 9649 🌐 Website: Just search East London Printer

[vistaprintdillpo]

About this gig

Hi there! Many thanks for visiting my geometric logo gig.

Do you need a polished, eye-catching line art or geometric patterned logo for your company or brand? There's nowhere else to look!

I am going to provide you with outstanding designs that are polygonal and geometrical with depth. I will use the Fibonacci sequence, also known as the golden ratio, to develop a design that is visually appealing and harmonious, making it stand out and have an effect. The logos feel distinctive, contemporary, and digital. As a seasoned graphic designer, my area of expertise is producing original, imaginative geometric and golden ratio logos. You'll have a professional sense of my design.

Why me:

Custom professional logo

Unlimited Revisions

Vector file

High-quality JPEG and PNG

Source file

Quick response to queries

✅ What you'll get:

Unique initial letter logo tailored to your brand

Minimalist and geometric style for a modern appeal

High-resolution files (JPG, PNG, SVG, PDF, etc.)

100% original design — no templates

Fast and professional communication

Multiple revisions (depending on package)

💼 Perfect for:

Startups & Entrepreneurs

Personal Brands

Tech & Creative Agencies

Fashion, Beauty, & Lifestyle Brands

#geometriclogo #logodesigner #logo #modernlogo #branding #graphicdesign #logobranding #creativelogo #logofolio #minimallogo #logomarks #logogrid #minimalistdesign #logowork #makelogo #graphicdesigns #visualdesign #logodesign #logolove #logoidea #logodaily #professionallogo #designprocess #designwork #learnlogodesign #vectordesign #designerlogo #bestlogo #logomakers

LogomarksDesigngraphicLogo MakerMonogram LogoLogo DesignMinimalist LogoInitial Letter Logo

FAQ

What is needed to get started ?

What is included in Social Media Kit?

What is Vector/Source file?

What is 3D mockup?

About Revisions.

Reviews

0

•0 reviews

There are no data to show right nowGoldPlatinumDiamond

$20.00Delivery time: 1 day

Basic 1 Custom Polygonal Logo with High Resolution JPEG, 3D Mockup and PNG (Transparent)

Unlimited RevisionsOrder Now

Contact sellerShareReport

You may also like

You may also like the following gigs

small_business

I will design high quality beauty and cosmetics logo

N/A

( 0 )

Starting at$5.00

Toblerone

I will design a modern geometric clean business logo

N/A

( 0 )

Starting at$25.00

Toblerone

I will design a minimal geometric logo for your business

N/A

( 0 )

Starting at$25.00

Toblerone

I will do luxury and brand logo with geometrical shape designs

N/A

( 0 )

Starting at$25.00

Toblerone

I will create unique minimalist and geometric logo designs

N/A

( 0 )

Starting at$25.00

Toblerone

I will design unique modern, minimal, geometric golden ratio logo

N/A

( 0 )

Starting at$25.00

Toblerone

I will do geometric and hand drawn logo for your business

N/A

( 0 )

Starting at$25.00

adobe_logo

I well cosmetics logo design with creative concept

N/A

( 0 )

Starting at$5.00

Company

About dillpo

Become a dillpo Buyer

Become a dillpo Freelancer

Careers

Creating a Gig

Creating your Seller Profile

How to order Dillpo seller Gig

How to start selling on dillpo

Partnership

Legal

Do not sell or share my personal information

How Dillpo Works

Legal

Privacy Policy

Refunds Policy

Terms of service

Links

Quality Guide

Affiliates

Customer Success Stories

Freelancer Equity Program

Get Inspired

Get-dillpo Freelance Success

Invite a Friend

Workspace

Support

Help & Support

Trust & Safety

Address

1209 Mountain Road PL NE STE R, Albuquerque, NM, 87110, USA

Payment:

© 2025 Dillpo. HOLY LLC All Rights Reserved

Contact usPrivacy policyTerms of serviceBlog

[pinkcaraz]

idk what it is but i like carlos’s kit a little better with the white shoes, i feel like there’s less going on to distract my eyes which is very important since he’s still in jail 😌 i did like the logo on his last pair tho, rly hope he keeps that going on!

ooo yea i see what you mean it does look less busy! i really liked his previous shoes on their own, separate from the whole look tho. the colors worked really well with the clay and the custom logo was nice :) carlos still looks like he just escaped jail but at least the hair and beard and everything else are nice 🥰

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Bag Tag Game!

Hi guys!!! Sorry I've been AWOL for a while lmaoo. Been organizing some stuff in my life + dealing with my health & college but I'm working on making a comeback here lol

So I thought I might start off by making one of these for some of the cast of Crash Stardom! for starters lol

Let's go! <3

Rules: Name five things your OC would have in a backpack or any bag

Crash Stardom!

Tristan Mallory

His cellphone with a pink glittery casing

Ticket stubs from events and shows he's been to

Coffee candy + tutti-frutti bubblegum

Portable makeup kit

A custom self-defense taser and pepper spray

Trinkets given to him by his little brother

A cute gecko keychain he won at a fair

Nail polish and extra guitar strings

Noah Mallory

Polaroid pictures of cool places and random stuff

His cellphone, with a grey camo pattern

An assortment of stickers and cutouts

Extra hoodie or jacket

Many, many band-aids (both regular and colorful)

Stress ball

A thermos with coffee inside

An arcade gift card

Randall Sloanne

His water-filled breather for when land air gets too dry

A packet of dried fish sticks

Knife collection and ammo for his guns

Tech-gloves with different settings

Phone charger

Pen-drive with files on the Secret Society

Journal where he keeps his Revenge Findings TM

A change of clothes and extra kevlar vest

Arden Ellis

Bloodstained pocket knife and vigilantism stuff/serial-killing kit TM

Memorabilia from targets they have taken down

Drawings Fabian made when he was a kid and Arden cherished

Small laptop for occasional hacking

Climbing gear and lockpicks

Strawberry lip gloss

First aid kit they barely use

Futuristic walkman/ipod with their favorite playlists

Fabian Styrling

Diary/journal with his personal notes and info for the rebellion

Lucky bracelet which his bestie Kit Lovotta gave him

A crumpled polaroid picture of him and Arden when they were younger, which Fabian still keeps despite them being estranged

Antidepressants (labeled as his "happy pills (:" with a scribble)

Small packet of cereal to eat on-the-go

Disguises for emergencies and some bandages

Brass knuckles and emergency stun gun

Ilya Morikov

Pastel blue hair dye and glitter gel

Extra charcoal black letter jacket

Notepad where he practices his autographs with cutesy handwriting (and stars on the I's)

Cutouts of his interviews on newspapers

Gold and silver earrings with tiny diamonds shaped like stars

Inhaler for emergencies + epipen

Fingerless gloves

Sketchbook where he occasionally draws (never lets anyone know)

Black (and dark blue) eyeliner

Beck Staudder

45mm handgun with customized grip

Extra scarves to hide the scars on his neck/throat

Heavy duty sunscreen and a small parasol

Painkillers

Blood-packs for emergency snacking

Regular face masks (usually dark grey) and contacts

His engagement ring

Embroidery kit

Derya Muirenn

Wallet with at least five different credit cards and extra change

DIY bracelets she makes on her free time with colorful plastic bands, charms and trinkets

Silk handkerchief with her family logo on the edge

Her cellphone with a reinforced casing and a cute cat meme phone grip/holder on the back

Tons of info for the rebellion and blueprints for new projects

Pictures of her many cats

Old candy wrappers

Aspen Staudder

Fidget toys

Tablet that voices what she wants to speak

Sign language guide book

Chocolate bars and tons of snacks for anxiety moments

Sunglasses with red-ish lenses

Bright, colorful markers

Material for pranks and jokes

Fuzzy cardigan

A book on mythology

Chion Strihdda

TRAIL MIX, TRAIL MIX, TRAIL MIX

Some of their feathers that accidentally end up everywhere

Fun, random trinkets they steal borrow from cool places

Nail file for keeping claws nice and sharp

Game switch and tons of comic books given to them by Noah

Oversized hoodie to hide wings, definitely doesn't belong to 'em

"Shiny things" (jewelry) they took from Tristan's room

A random spider they adopted

Tagging my Taglist gently:

@the-letterbox-archives

@kitty-is-writing

@sleepy-night-child,

@tabswrites

@kaylinalexanderbooks,

@smol-feralgremlin,

@oh-no-another-idea,

@littleladymab,

@little-peril-stories

@thelovelymachinery

@eccaiia,

@sarahlizziewrites,

@illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill,

@anoelleart,

@ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal,

@anyablackwood,

@forthesanityofstorytellers,

@finickyfelix

@i-can-even-burn-salad,

@cakeinthevoid,

@thepeculiarbird,

@clairelsonao3,

@memento-morri-writes,

@starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@winterandwords

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG

[middle-daisy]

DIY Band Merch

■□■□■□■□■□■ ■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■

Alright, DIY bros, gather 'round, because today we're diving into the art of crafting your own killer band merch from scratch! 🤘💀

Step 1: Design Your Masterpiece - Start with a killer design. It could be inspired by your favorite band's logo, lyrics, or album artwork. Sketch it out on paper or use graphic design software to create your vision.

Step 2: Gather Your Materials - You'll need a plain t-shirt, fabric paints, fabric markers, or iron-on transfers for clothing. For pins or patches, grab some sturdy fabric, a sewing kit, and your design printed on fabric transfer paper. If you want to cut up the shirt a bit, scissors or utilitiy knife will work.

Step 3: T-Shirt Transformation - If you're going for a custom band tee, place a cardboard piece inside the shirt to prevent paint from bleeding through. Carefully apply your design using fabric paint or markers. Let it dry according to the product's instructions.

Step 4: Iron-On Magic - For an iron-on design, print your band artwork on fabric transfer paper, cut it out, and follow the iron-on instructions to transfer it to your shirt. Voila, you've got a DIY band tee!

Step 5 (Grunge It Up) - If you're aiming for that rebellious grunge style, it's time to distress your shirt. Lay your t-shirt flat on a clean surface. You can use scissors, a utility knife, or sandpaper for this step.

Scissors: Make small horizontal cuts along the hemline, sleeves, and neckline. You can also create small snips at various spots on the shirt for a worn look. Pull and stretch these cut areas to create frayed edges.

Utility Knife: Carefully slice through the fabric at specific spots on the shirt, creating deliberate slashes or distressing. Be cautious and avoid cutting too deep.

Sandpaper: Rub sandpaper on areas of the shirt to create a faded, worn effect. Focus on seams, collar, and sleeves for an authentic grunge look.

Step 6: Pins and Patches - Cut your fabric into the desired shape and sew or iron your design onto it. Sewing provides a sturdy finish, but iron-on patches work in a pinch.

Step 7: Wear Your Art Loud and Proud - Put on your DIY creation and strut your stuff! Show off your unique band merch to the world.

Remember, DIY band merch is about self-expression and celebrating your favorite bands in a way that's totally your own. Share your creative process, and inspire your fellow rebels to craft their own masterpieces. 🎨🤟👕 #DIYBandMerch ■□■□■□■□■□■ ■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■□■■□■□■

[adultbabysteps]

My New Logo for my website www.adultbabysteps.com! Done by one of my amazing padded besties! I'm hoping very soon to add a store as well to my content selling custom made ABDL products like an ABDL Baby Gym kit, as well as adult bibs and paci clips.

Give Riley some love for her work her links are:

https://x.com/Cabbageagepatch?t=dUk2LOdcjE1E5Pu0yKFcYA&s=09

https://www.instagram.com/littlecabbagepatchgirl?igsh=OWhqd25jMTUzMWJ5

[athena-gundampla]

HGUC 1/144 E.F.F. Prototype Transformable Mobile Suit NRX-044 "Asshimar" (XW Knockoff)

The Asshimar!!! This is one of my favorite transformable mobile suits, and one of my favorite suits from Zeta overall. Its design is loosely based on the G1 design for the transformer "Cosmos", with a circular Mobile Armour mode and a chunky Mobile Suit mode standing at over 23 meters (making it a very large kit).

This kit is actually a bootleg, made by the company XW and sold under the dubious title of "Pumpkin Pie Warrior". The Bandai HGUC Asshimar isn't all that hard to get but I had to pick up this bootleg for the funky box art alone.

Surprisingly for a bootleg, the quality wasn't all that bad. It's a fairly good clone of the Bandai mould, with the same level of colour separation and detail. There's a little bit of flashing that needs to be trimmed, but the mould lines were no worse than most Bandai kits - better in some places. The clear piece that goes over the eye-sensor was a little warped but it's not noticeable once the kit is assembled. One issue I did find was that the tolerances weren't quite as precise as with Bandai kits, with some pegs being too big for their holes and certain pieces refusing to stay flush. If you assemble this kit be prepared to spend a little extra time widening holes and gluing parts down to get it to work.

In terms of the kit itself, the colour separation and level of detail is impressive. Unlike some other HG transformable kits, this one doesn't require any parts removal or replacement to transform, and there's some really impressive internal engineering to achieve this, especially with the way the legs fold in on themselves. The kit is completely colour separated, apart from a little red for the thrusters and some grey vents and minor details around the suit.

I also cribbed some of the Titans stickers from my unbuilt GM-II as well as a few other spare stickers, and added a bit of custom graffiti and markings in white, as well as some light weathering. The graffiti was a little hard to come up with given the Titans position as a fascist allegory, so I kept it limited to some kill markings and a message on the gun. The unit number is almost entirely a result of what stickers I had to hand.

The graffiti and markings were difficult to plan out, as several panels change orientation in Mobile Armour mode and I wanted to avoid parts appearing upside down.

I made sure to include a little homage to the knockoff kit's name with a custom suit name and logo!

The kit comes with very limited extra parts, including its Large Beam Rifle, two closed fists hand options, and two pistol grip hand options.

A neat bonus with this kit is that it includes an extra Large Beam Rifle, so you can pose it with two guns at once! The second rifle can be attached to the top of the suit in Mobile Armour mode, but I found this threw of the balance a little so I didn't take any photos.

Overall this was a really fun build and I'm pleasantly surprised at the quality of the knockoff. It's not as good as my XFS knockoff GM Spartan, but it's certainty commendable especially at the lower price.

Definitely recommend checking it out! Next up is another knockoff kit for AoZ April - the XFS HGUC Woundwort, if I get to it!