#Form I-20

[edwisefoundation]

How to Apply for a USA Student Visa from Nepal: A Step-by-Step Guide

Applying for a USA student visa from Nepal involves several key steps. First, secure admission to a U.S. institution certified by the Student and Exchange Visitor Program (SEVP) and obtain Form I-20. Next, pay the SEVIS fee, complete the DS-160 visa application, and schedule a visa interview. Gather all required documentation, including your passport, Form I-20, DS-160 confirmation, and academic records. During your interview, be prepared to discuss your study plans and financial arrangements. For more detailed guidance on the application process, visit How To Apply USA Student Visa From Nepal.

[ri-afan]

I need a Misunderstanding trope where Phantom is put with one of the ‘kid’ groups because everyone assumes he’s a teen, but Phantom (he’s, like, 28) thinks he’s just like… co-managing/supervising the group with another Justice League member.

Asked if he’s in school thinking high school? He says yes, thinking of college where he’s going for his graduate degree. His grumbles over homework and time management skills cements it.

ICE contact? Frostbite. Yeah, that’s really his name. (Jazz talked him out of putting her because if it’s an emergency then they likely need medical history and support.) Here’s a device to actually reach him. His parents? Uhhh, nah, I would put my sister second.

It just goes on.

The guy snarks, puns, and throws jokes, clearly up-to-date with internet culture. He’s a casual dude, loves video games, burgers, and space. He’s kinda short and a little lanky, but he’s stupid strong (like he both forgets he is strong and doesn’t know his strength at times).

Phantom’s checking all the boxes as a teen hero both visually and on vibes with the League so they put him there. Danny’s touched that they think he’s responsible enough to put him in charge of the kids, so he does his best.

(Batman finds out about the appointment after it’s approved, but before he says anything he sees how much the teens open up around Phantom and… well… if they didn’t do their homework to see that the Phantom persona has been active for 14 years with pop-ups through history then that’s not really his problem, is it? He might miss that Phantom doesn’t realise this for a while…whoops.)

[bowenoke]

if you like florence + the machine and also kristen applebees and figueroth faeth. may i offer you cassandra

[xxxfoxflowerxxx]

Here’s my moonpaw design before the Erins inevitably make her a solid gray cat with blue eyes.

I’ve seen loads of torti/ calico moonpaws here on tumblur. Maybe if we manifest enough, they might let her finally be a torti 😭

[milkcos]

lemonade mouth/band au! more notes under the cut

lemonade as in like the disney movie! so there are a couple like clear comparisons but mostly it's the bad kids get stuck in detention together except they form a band instead of an adventuring party

fabian > no equivalent (olivia vibes)

the most popular kid at school who is both in dance and on the football team. somehow gets decent grades as well. no close friends, but a lot of people who know him and want to get on his good side. kind of depressed, and his dad's currently in prison. he started playing the guitar as a way to show off and then genuinely started enjoying it

adaine > mo

she's a concert violist (playing the viola) always an accompaniment for her sister and is striking it out on her own for the first time. her family is very upset about this, and consistently puts her down so she'll go along with they want her to do. also she recently transitioned to going to public school for the first time, making her the new girl.

kristen > no equivalent

she's recently ex mormon, got out of her parents house (currently living in her car) and without all of her former friends stuck in a student president position that she got when she was still with the religion. questioning her sexuality after one too many encounters with the soccer team captain, tracker. used to be on the church choir, was a bit too enthusiastic about it.

gorgug > no equivalent (charlie vibes)

he's got like one or two kinda friends (mainly fig). extremely busy with his classes and with marching band and self isolating as a result. he's stressed out about living up to his parent's name (they run a very successful electric engineering company). signed up to work as a sound tech for the theatre department bc one of the female stage managers is very cute (zelda) and then discovered that he rlly like it.

riz > no equivalent

no friends! (other than maybe the AV club + penny) too used to burying himself in work at both his part time gig and with his insane amount of extracurriculars. started playing the piano bc he heard it helps with memory retention and overall cognitive ability.

fig > stella/wen

she's the cool loner skater kid who is the floater friend mostly? she's got a maybe relationship with ayda, who she loves to annoy at the school library. very interested in making her own music not very interested in school. freaking out over her parents getting remarried. her mom enrolled her in music lessons when she was younger, and it's one of the only things she can talk about with her mom these days.

[treasureplcnet]

inverness here they come!!!!

[buwheal]

If it has a pen and a canvas spamton will be drawn‼️

Never finished the neo XP piece </3

Plus also my DS case !!!

Get turned into a sticker idiot (he looks weird though its been a month or two)

[red-dead-sakharine]

20 INT Tav: *Ignores him and grabs something to eat*

Raphael: "Not easily rattled I see. Good. Makes this next part, that much more straightforward." *reveals himself*

20 INT Tav: *No reaction*

Raphael: "I'll admit, I expected you to look at least a little bit surprised."

20 INT Tav: "You were standing right in front of a portrait of yourself as a devil. That wasn't exactly hard to figure out..."

Raphael: "...you're no fun."

[ligninn]

"This is called the "Rippling Sword". "Rippling Ophelia"… Great name, don't you think? But it's not too well known yet. Because most of the people who've seen it are dead."

For better quality, you can check here

The frame is on amazon btw :)

[to-be-a-dreamer]

I just think that Kristen "I was my God's chosen one and I met him and he adored me but he wasn't what I needed and I didn't like the kind of divinity my church had turned him into so I left and created a pantheon dedicated to the lost and the confused and the hurt because no one should have to feel the way I did" Applebees and Ostentatia "My God barely knew my name and I met him and he was dismissive of me but he loved me and always provided what I needed and when I looked at him I only saw my father so I helped him because no one should be left to drown under their burden when all they need is a little help" Wallace should meet and be friends and maybe kiss on the mouth

[frogsandmagic]

Cackling at how Jawbone never found out that riz stole kipperlilly’s files and he will NOT be facing any consequences for doing so. Go silly little man!! Steal private files from someone’s counseling sessions!! When the counselor is also your friends dad who you see regularly!!

[roamwood]

What praise will you have in death

[askblueandviolet]

I need to see the spider demons please 😭🙏

[bacchuschucklefuck]

Riz has counted four casseroles this week alone. Five, if one goes by the method of cooking, but Yelen's scary when she's crossed, and calling her burek by its proper name is important to her, so Riz does her the courtesy and doesn't include it in his mental tally.

He holds the tupperware over his head to keep it out if the way as he takes careful steps over the piles of notes in his path. The dockman case just closed, relevant documentations handed over to relevant personnels, evidences dealt with as needed; all he has lying around now is just record of the process and traces of himself thinking through it. Unsurprisingly they still haven't invented a surface more convenient for people under five feet who like to pace to put pieces of paper on than the ground.

Actual records go into the case folder with the other documents. Anything else with at least one side still blank is going to the school kids in the block - they chew through an astounding amount of paper just learning arithmetic. The rest is for the recycling basket.

Later. It's his mandated lunch break right now.

Riz sits down in front of the corner file cabinet. In an office often overrun with papers and strings and sometimes even thumbtacks, he's never really managed to clutter up this exact square of surface like every other ones. Ever since the bottom drawer rattled for no discernible reason a day long past, his eyes have always just kinda decided to slide across the space without acknowledging it.

It's years out, now. Riz doesn't know why he thought it such a big deal anymore, back then. He wasn't scared, he doesn't think. Not anymore. Maybe just uncomfortable with the idea that certain things persist despite all efforts to change.

He opens the tupperware. Dame Carabelle's experiment greets him with enough spice in the aroma alone to knock out a small mammal. When he chopped the vegetables for this casserole he couldn't really imagine the eventual heft of it, evident even through just these few ladles' worth, maybe weighing heavier for being still warm. His folk eat more through the smell and the textures and the aftertastes than the taste itself. His folk's meal is really the cooking rather than the eating. The eating is the meal's end.

"Hey," he tells the file cabinet's bottom drawer. "Um."

It's the anniversary. Riz doesn't know the exact date of his dad's death; nobody currently alive does. He and Mom both use the date of the funeral, though as he moved out to Bastion and then got more directly involved with Interplanar he hasn't really been going to Dad's grave as much. Doesn't seem like very efficient use of his time, catching a train or borrowing a car or spending a whole spell slot on going somewhere he knows Dad isn't at. They're sorta coworkers now. They talk on and off every other week between missions. When he goes now, it's just to clean up the place, keeping the landmark tidy and respectable.

Without that work to mark the date he doesn't really know what it serves anymore. But he still remembers it. Still takes note, absently or not, when it comes around.

There's not really a good way to tell the drawer that. Riz looks for another way to start the... conversation, hopefully. The question at play, he'd guess, is why he's doing this. He's been pretty content ignoring all the rattlings and the knocks from inside and the times it sits slightly ajar without him ever opening it himself; hell, he still uses the three drawers on top of it. Space is fucking precious in Bastion.

Precious enough to finally fix this damn drawer so he gets his turn to use it? Riz asks himself. Is that what we're getting to? Then he dismisses the thought - he didn't manage to fix it the times he actually tried, let alone-- now. When he doesn't really care that much to.

That's probably a good place to start. "'s fine if you keep being in there, turns out," Riz says.

The lunch hours are quiet in the block, sleepy and bright with the brief window of sunlight that manages to break through roof overhangs and extended balconies and laundry lines and climbing vines. Riz's work isn't loud here (the loud parts happen away from his office, if everything goes right), but the fragment of early summer heat reflected in the steady warmth his meal still carries compels him to lower his voice even more. It makes the words feel intimate, in a way he's never been familiar with - if he says something he just says it. He doesn't whisper. If he gives his friends something, he gives it open-palm. He's found out, along the way, that people usually don't think of rituals and courtesies the way he does.

Small voice for a diminished monster. "You know why I think so?" Riz asks. "Because almost two decades ago you kidnapped me and almost killed me, and now you rattle a drawer in my office."

It doesn't sound as much like a taunt as Riz wanted it to; the drawer has made a lot of noises again this morning when he checked the calendar, and he was definitely annoyed at it. Now, though, facing it like this after cooking the whole morning with more grandparents and peers from the block than he can count on both hands to cater for a tenant union meeting, he thinks the annoyance has morphed. Changed shape.

It has the shades of something like pity. Riz is not prone to pity, and especially not at these kinda matters. It's slightly maddening that he coheres perfectly outside of this one spot. That he commands his spaces, except for a drawer.

He puts the tupperware onto the floor between himself and the cabinet. "I know we're aware it's the anniversary," he says at the drawer. "You do this every year. You make a ruckus every time I decide to go do my job instead of mooching off my friends' aircon, and every time I get an invitation to some stupid social thing I want to turn down, and every time one of the old people tries to introduce me to a child or a nibling, because being a bachelor over thirty is weird," he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I have three fucking jobs. I love doing my fucking jobs. I'm forcing funds into infrastructures. You're never leaving, are you."

The drawer vibrates lightly. It's a very, very mild acknowledgement, considering the history of reactions Riz has gotten from this thing. Riz thinks it's emanating joyous agreement, or satisfaction.

It only sharpens the pity. Riz doesn't like that, but it's how it is. That's, ultimately, the lesson he's been taught over and over and over again, just by existing as himself, turned every which way by space after space that don't see him eye-to-eye: it's not like he'd quit living over any of it. It's not like any of it can sand off these fundamental pieces of him.

He's outgrown a lot of things, he's found out. Again, and again, and again. A childhood home, a yearly trip, a monster.

"'s probably scary for you, huh?" He asks. "Because I left."

He thinks he hears joints creak that sound like you did. Probably the way a scorned lover would say it, in a movie or a yellowback. He has no more connection to the idea than he did as a kid. Less, because it doesn't even scare him.

"That's what it is, right? That it's the anniversary, and I'll never be like Dad." He raises a knee from the floor, pulls it back closer to him. Slings an arm over it. "You love to remind me. The thing is, Dad also left. He loved Mom and he loved me, and none of us wanted it to happen, but it still did. Because love does fuckall to make anyone stay on its own."

He's long past being bitter about it. It's just the facts. Once upon a time he looked into the future and the specter of his friends' happily-ever-after casted lightless, fathomless shadow over him. Love, marriage, that kind of devotion, to a fifteen-year-old with more solved cases than friends seemed so eternal. Final.

But you can only watch your friends build up apps' worth of jilted lovers for so long before getting over it.

"You know what I learned?" Riz tells the drawer. "Love doesn't make anyone stay. Project management does."

He stands up, and picks up the tupperware of Dame Carabelle's casserole, that he helped make, that he helped share with a block's worth of neighbors and members of a community he's at home with, and goes sit at his desk to eat. "Last chance to get any," he drops an offer over his shoulder as he walks away.

He doesn't eat all of his share in one go. What he's spared he leaves on the desk when going outside for a smoke break. Baron looks the exact same as when he saw them last, when he catches a glimpse; they haven't grown at all. They aren't there when he comes back inside, but the leftover has gone days-old cold, like someone's sucked the future out of it.

[nightcorecarseatheadrest]

The little boy that nobody came looking for

[tea-cat-arts]