#passport lottery

[enchantedsunflowerkat]

I’M STARTING THE PROCESS OF GETTING MY SWISS PASSPORT BABYYY🥰🥰🥰

[wntw-virtuemoir-edition]

Where do you think Scott is going for his honey moon?

[copperbadge]

For some reason or other, I occasionally appear nonexistent to certain entities -- either because of a slightly unorthodox address, a weird aspect of my name, or an uncertainty surrounding my phone number. Or for no reason I can fathom!

The list currently:

US Post Office: Actually we're cool now. It did not believe I existed until 2022, but saw the light and was converted, and accepts me into its life.

Chicago Public Library: Persistently skeptical I exist, but suspiciously accepts my claim if I can show my voter registration card (they literally would not take my PASSPORT but took my voter registration card as proof of my existence). Due to this suspicion, requires me to make any payments in exact change.

Illinois State Lottery: Has not believed in me for years, but still sends me email ads, like a girlfriend who broke up with me but drunk texts for a hookup without remembering we live in different time zones.

NEW ADDITION:

Tinder: refused to even consider my existence and banned me while I was trying to register. Whatever Illinois State Lottery told you about me was a lie, I swear!

[mitoad]

giggling ab this okay so

imagine gaz n reader, they've just started to date

and reader is trans (ftm) but gaz doesn't know that yet

but then after a few weeks of dating reader is taking their T in the bathroom/bedroom and had forgotten to lock the door & gaz walks in oh no,,

YEAH so!!! i hope that's enough to.. you know. yeah!!!! i 💗 ur fics sm.

(we need more ftm fics RIGHT NOW!!)

whoEVER ANON IS . I LOVE U . Thank u so so so so much 4 this request my fingers have been acting to write m or ftm content u have appealed to my deepest desires . myways this rq is super silly i love chilled out gay mf and nervous closeted trans mf dynamic so much. 

Also posted on trans visibility day lets GOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

the same (always changing); kyle 'gaz' garrick + trans male! reader (979 words)

notes: some implied and described internalised transphobia, mentions of transphobia, mentions of gender dysphoria, reader does not have top surgery yet, partial nudity on reader (non-sexual), little hurt/comfort type w/ fluff at the end !!

-

It wasn’t meant to be a secret. It really wasn't.

But here you are, cooped up in the cold premise of your shared bathroom, waiting for the gel to dry into your skin as you stare at your figure in the mirror, noticing the little changes with a strange sense of europhia. You wished you could run back to the arms of your boyfriend as you ramble about how good the hormones have been working, how you can see your outer shell peeling open to show the man who's been living in the inside, a feedback loop that had you seeing yourself in reflections instead of skin and hair and face that you'd barely recognised. Maybe his face would melt into that gorgeous smile, arms pulling you closer to him like he's seeping off the happiness he swears he sees seeping off your skin's pores. But it's the flip of a coin, a winning ticket in an uncertain lottery.

you're not so sure if Kyle would love the kind of person you were.

gender hadn't ever been a point of focus in your conversations, never something that had to be caught and pinned down with word or thought. he was a man, you were a man, and you loved each other. both of you did your best to keep it at that simplicity. but part of you, like the serpent to adam and eve, had always doubted whether kyle would look at you with the same eyes if you somehow ended up showing him your childhood photos or now-invalid passport, the face that was still soaked with dysphoria-ridden tears. 

the gel is still sticking to your ribs when the door practically flies off its hinges slamming against concrete walls and gaping open your closed eyes with ugly sound. There's a groan of exasperation that should make you giggle, but only makes already tense muscles almost turn to stone. "honey, you done ? really need to take a fat shi-" 

And then there's that silence both unsurprising but dreaded, how it felt to inhale smoke. 

You hate the shock as his eyes run over your bare chest in realisation, feeling any words about to come out crawling back into your windpipe as he notices the thin layer of gel and the label of the bottle on the sink. 

"love?" he calls, an endearing substitute replacing your name. you didn’t know if he'd call you that, even after this revelation. Or did he not know what else to call you now that this had been revealed ? "kyle," you echo. 

please just look at me, kyle. 

his eyes still look the same as how they look at you; stormclouds that accompany you on lonely and rainy nights, and your eyes can't help on focus on the pretty shade of grey instead of the battering of water droplets hitting against tin. Not once  does it ever shift to malice or hatred- only worry, for you, maybe. 

"do you want to talk about it right now ?" isn't the response that you expected. It's an gentle offer, and extended hand waiting for you to take or push away, more freeing than astute observations of your perceived identity or the bitter words hissed out when others had realised. You can only nod your head in response. 

"im sorry," you say, and you don’t know how much (what you're) apologising for. Sorry for never telling you. Sorry for making a distance that could have been avoided. Sorry for being this without your permission, anyone else's permission. 

but he's quick to hold you and the shame that you carry , not minding any of the gel residue on his shirt. "hey, no, it's okay," his voice is gentle, reaching out for your secluded self. "remember what I told you when we first started dating?" he puts a hand to your head, playing with your hair as he pulls you closer to him. "I love all of you, dove. Everything." he rests his chin onto your shoulder, murmuring the words into your ear. And you can't help but hug back, clinging to him like a lifeline. Your lifeline. "I love you too," you muse.

you both stay there for a minute before he pulls away with a complaint of some back pain from a recent mission, and you kiss his nose, allowing yourself to smile for the first time since he'd entered the room. "so.." you start, now perched on the rim of the bathtub. "you're ok with me being trans?"

you giggle when he deadpans at you, "love, I just hugged you for 5 full minutes after seeing you apply testosterone instead of taking a shit. I don’t really care if you're trans." 

and after your testosterone dries and you put on your shirt, you both in bed, tangled up in each other's arms. ramblings about little stories or town gossip. professions of grandiose love guised under quiet murmurs. the hormones are still a little crusty on your skin, but they're doing the work that should have been done since birth. 

The same, always changing. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

As the World Turns 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, imbalanced power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your new job takes you to new places with lots of new people.

Characters: Nick Fowler, Jonathan Pine, Lloyd Hansen

Note: I know I shouldn't have done this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

When you accepted your new position, you didn’t expect that two days later you would be on your very first business trip. Ever. Like at all!

It’s exciting. It’s not only your first trip overseas for work but your first trip across any border. You’re as happy to get use out of your passport as you are to have the new experiences. You don’t know, however, how much you’ll be able to enjoy any of it. It’s still work after all.

You stand at the luggage belt as your phone vibrates. It’s your boss, Mr. Fowler, once more asking you where you are. The car’s already there. It’s not your fault the elite class flyers got off first and you’re stuck searching for your bags among the sea of coach passengers.

‘Will be there shortly, sir. Just coming through customs.’

It’s a small lie but you don’t think he’ll be impressed to hear you’re struggling to find your bag. It’s not very big but it should be easy to find. A round plastic suitcase in a shade of sunflower you can’t miss. You think it’d be obvious amid the black and black suitcases milling along on the conveyor belt.

You see the plastic slats part and your bag shines bright, like a beacon calling to you. You race forward and grab onto the handle. You accidentally press the button with your thumb so the handle extends and you’re dragged along awkwardly as you struggle to lift it. 

Another passenger approaches to remove his heavy black bag but doesn’t walk away before helping you. You thank him with a smile. He’s older, maybe your grandpa’s age, and he assures you it’s no problem. He walks off and you plant the wheels of your bag straight, swerving around as you follow the signs.

You bring your phone up again and read Mr. Fowler’s next impatient text.

‘Take the cab fare off your per diem.’

Right. You’re not surprised. From what you know of your boss so far, he’s a stickler. He knows what he wants and he doesn’t settle for less. While he can be charming, even accommodating, he can also be terrifyingly stern. One moment he has that smile that makes his eyes twinkle and the next, his jaw is set and danger darkens his features. The very memory of that expression makes you shiver.

You suppose it’s your own fault. You should’ve considered the job description a bit closer. An executive assistant does a lot more than just the typical secretary. The pay itself was proof enough. Can you really complain? The perks include free trips!

You try to stay as positive as you can, ignoring your mother’s voice as it sneaks into the back of your head. She always has something negative to say. She could win the lottery and complain about the trouble of claiming her winnings.

You make your way through the terminal and into the atrium, passing by new arrivals and waiting departures. You check your smart watch, you’ll get in your steps for sure, and hurry as the minutes tick by. You follow the flow outside and find a spot along the pick up area, waving down a taxi as your phone buzzes again.

‘Don’t show up without scotch’.

The message is terse. You can only assume the flight was less than accommodating. You spent your time in coach looking out at the clouds or catching up on the adventures in Westeros. Terribly depressing books but it only makes reality a little less so.

You get into a taxi and ask the driver to take you to a liquor store. He doesn’t seem to understand you. Oh, boy. You pull up Google translate on your phone and speak into it, setting it to translate into the native language. You let the speaker play the text to voice. The driver nods and starts the meter.

Okay, not bad. You’re figuring this out. If anything, Mr. Fowler has to give you points for effort, right? 

You ask the taxi to wait as you run in and find yourself faced with shelves of bottles and cans. This is the hard part, you’re not much of a drinker. With the help of Google, you ask the clerk for a bottle of scotch and pay with the company card. You’re right back out to the taxi.

Everything is so fast, you feel like you’re still catching up. You’re doing things. Every minute matters. You feel important, probably for the first time in your life. No more sitting behind a desk yawning, you’re tired for good reason.

You give the hotel name next and let yourself relax. Just for a little. Your eyes drift to the traffic outside the taxi, the voices all around, the dimming of the sky as the city sets to evening. It’s beautiful and new and wonderful.

The driver lets you off in front of the hotel. You’re greeted by a valet who offers to take your bag. You try to refuse but he insists, so you let him and follow him inside. As you enter, another man approaches.

You’re confused at first. He’s tall, blonde, and dressed as if he’s a businessman visiting on his own sojourn. You look around, thinking he might be headed for someone behind you. No, it’s only you. You turn back and find his blue eyes centered on you as he stops before you.

“Miss, welcome,” he lilts in his refined accent, “may I have your name so we may get you checked in?”

“Oh, yes, thanks, uh, sir. Actually, first, my, er… my boss is here. I think. He must’ve shown up twenty minutes ago. Erm, Mr. Fowler. I have, a oh,” you look down at the bottle in your hands, “I have this for him.”

“Wonderful,” he eyes the bottle, “Izak,” he addresses the valet, “Fowler.”

He takes the bottle from you without resistance. There’s something about his confidence that has you frozen. He hands it to the valet, Izak, and sends him off. You smile and give a nervous chuckle.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you rub the back of your neck.

“That is my job. I’m at your service, miss. Jonathan Pine, manager,” he offers his hand.

You shake it, doing your best to keep a firm grip. His fingers are so long that your hand feels tiny in his. He lets you go as you rescind your hand, crossing one arm over your stomach as you cup your other elbow, playing with the button of your blouse.

“Your name, miss?”

“Oh, duh,” you clutch the front of your blouse and eke out your name.

“Great, this way,” he beckons you with him and leads you to a round desk. He steps behind and types as his blue eyes reflect the screen. “I assume you’re here on business. You mentioned your boss is in another accommodation.”

“Yes, uh, my first business trip,” you almost wiggle with delight, “I’ve never even stayed in a hotel, you know?”

“Well, then I hope your stay is exceptional,” he smiles as he clicks around, giving a thoughtful hum, “allow me to make your first a special one,” he intones, “I’ve upgraded you to a suite.”

“A suite? Oh, but–”

“No additional fee. It will remain at the rate of your previous room,” his eyes flick to you.

“Wow, that’s… do I sound that pathetic?”

“Pathetic? Not at all, miss.”

You chew your lip and sway back and forth, crossing both arms across your chest. You don’t know what to say. He’s so nice that it almost feels patronizing. Or you’re just insecure. 

“Allow me to show you your suite,” he comes out from behind the desk, holding out a small black folio. 

You take it and look inside, two cards and a little insert with tiny text on it. You bring your hands down to fold over your stomach and back up to let him lead you. He struts along with you to the elevator and hits the button. He gestures you in first and follows.

“You haven’t traveled before?” He asks.

“Not really. We used to go camping but not far from home. Then we didn’t go anywhere. I’ve been working since, er, college, so… this is my first chance.”

“Well, the world is vast and not all are so lucky as to venture beyond their front door. It’s truly a privilege,” he says. The doors ding and parts, again, he waits for you to go ahead of him.

You step out and check the folio. You read the number and match it to a door at the far end of the hall. He’s right behind you as you get to the suite. 

“Shall I show you around?” He asks as you stop on either side of the doorframe.

“Erm, sure, why not?” You shrug.

“Might I?” He points to your hands and you give him the folio.

He takes out a card and holds it up, “these can be unfortunately finicky. You must make sure you hold it so,” he shows you how to position it and slides it through the slot beside the handle. The red light turns green and the door unlocks. “Please,” he opens the door and nods you inside.

You enter as he follows. The door slowly closes as he lets it go and he slips the card back into the folio. He puts it on the corner table beside the door and taps it with his fingertips.

“You’ll find the wireless information in there along with the room service details and our continental breakfast times,” he explains, “if you’ve any questions, you may call the front desk.”

“Thank you,” you smile.

“Let me briefly go over the rest of your amenities and I’ll leave you in peace,” he avows as he waves you further inside, “a full bath,” he stops at the doorway to his left, “there are jets built in, rather useful after a long flight.”

You give a polite laugh and he presses on. He guides you through the suite; a kitchenette, a mini bar, a sitting space, a bedroom, a balcony, and a key to the private pool. You thank him again.

He goes back to the door, about to leave but pausing at the door, “if you require anything, you may ask for me. Jonathan, remember.”

“Jonathan,” you repeat.

He nods and steps out into the hall, gently closing the door behind him. You feel another buzz in your pocket. Shoot! Mr. Fowler.

‘Scotch is here. Where are you?’

You cringe and hurry out of the room. You should’ve known better. There was just a lot happening at once. You hurry down the hall and stop short of the elevator. You don’t know where his room is.

‘On my way, sir. Where is your room?’

You key in the message, awkwardly lingering as you wait for his response.

‘Not there. In restaurant. Two minutes.’

You push your head back. You really just want to go back to the room and jump into that giant bed. A full queen to yourself. That’s actual heaven. You answer, affirming your obedience and head for the elevator.

You get down to the lobby and once more find yourself lost. You have that problem, not thinking two steps ahead. As you look around, you see the valet, Izak.

“Hi, uh, is there a restaurant around here?” You ask sheepishly.

“Yes, miss, right through there,” he points towards the rear of the lobby to a wide archway crested with a point.

You thank Izak and scurry across the lobby. You put your phone away as you enter the restaurant and a server approaches you. They ask if you want a table for one and you explain that you’re meeting your boss. She points him out and asks you if you’d like a drink. You assume you won’t be staying for dinner so you pass.

As you near his table, Mr. Fowler doesn’t look up. You stop just across from him and wring your hands. You wait for him to say something but he’s focused on the menu.

“Sorry, sir, I was just checking in–”

“Sit,” he demands.

“Right, thanks,” you sit and grip the edge of the table, “it was very busy at the airport and I had to stop on the way for your scotch–”

“But no time to bring it yourself?” He challenges as he sets the menu down, finally looking at you, “I have a colleague meeting me here shortly.” His eyes dip briefly as he eyes your blouse, “hm, you didn’t change?”

“Like I was saying, sir, I didn’t have a chance yet–”

“Undo your top button,” he waves off your excuses as he sits back and grabs the short glass of scotch in front of him.

“Sir?”

“You look like a nun,” he retorts, “just one button, sweetheart.”

You furrow your brow but pop your top button open. It doesn’t show very much but it still feels wrong. You sit back and peer around the restaurant. The din is quiet and the lightning soft and warm.

“Um, so, you want me to stay for dinner?”

“You leave when I dismiss you,” he says curtly.

“Yes, sir, I understand,” you reply.

“Stop fidgeting,” he clucks, “try to sit still.”

“Yes, sir,” your voice shrinks.

He sighs and stares at you, “smile, okay? This is an important dinner.”

“Right,” you force a smile, cheeks trembling. 

All the excitement, all your former optimism, slowly slakes away. You get the churning anxiety in your stomach. The same sensation that kept you in bed a few minutes past your alarm. You’re only a few days in, you can do this.

“Fowler,” a voice booms across the restaurant as footfalls approach.

Your boss stands and you scramble to do the same. He shakes the hand of another man as you turn to face his acquaintance. It must be his aforementioned colleague.

“Hansen,” Fowler counters as their handshake becomes a battle, “about time.”

“Pfft, you were always boring. You gotta get out, buddy. Especially around here. I’ll give you a few names. There’s a sweet girl down at the spa–” the man, Hansen coughs, stopping himself midsentence as his eyes fall to you, “oh? And this is?”

“New assistant.” Fowler sits and pushes the tails of his jacket back.

You give your name as Hansen puts his hand out again. Instead of shaking yours, he takes it and kisses it in a very old-fashioned gesture, though something about his demeanour is sleazy. 

“Lloyd,” he winks as he clings to your hand, “Mr. Hansen is so boring. Makes me sound like an old man.”

You smile and repeat his name.

“What happened to Bennet?” He turns and claims the third chair. You lower yourself, content to be peripheral to their reunion.

“Gone,” is all Fowler says as his eyes meet yours, “so, what’re you drinking, Hansen?”

[beloved-blaiddyd]

"Papers, Please" [Thoma/Reader]

note: Thoma is underrated, and we don't talk about him being a fixer enough teehee.

prompt & content tags: Exploring the possibility that the resistance failed, Inazuma's borders became stricter than ever before. Thoma begs the inspector to let (Y/n) in last minute, but it's a far more challenging ordeal for a "fixer". [tw: death]

Teppei is an immigration inspector selected by the Kujou clan in the labor lottery held in October. His designated checkpoint is in Ritou, where most visitors would assemble to submit their required paperwork in an attempt to gain entry into the main city. 

And that's where his importance lies. Teppei is in charge of controlling entry based on the given documentation. Declining on those who gravely need their jobs and family makes him restless, but after several near-terrorist calls, stamping passports with approval makes him equally uneasy. Still, he must perform this task. His family back in Watatsumi is the only thing he thinks about. His grandma is still ill, and the harsh winter has only made her condition worse.

“Hey there, Teppei!” He heard a voice from the other end of his booth. “Can you open up? I need to show you something.”

After the divider noisily rose, a bright young man waved in front of him. They were no strangers to one another. It was Thoma, Ritou's “fixer”.

“Glory to the Shogun.” They both greeted unenthusiastically, but Teppei's eyes trailed to the clunked metal that landed on his booth.

It was a locket.

“I have a favor to ask,” Thoma did not waste a second. “Their name is (Y/n). They're missing some documents. Please let them in.”

Teppei raised an eyebrow.

“I can't have another citation…” Teppei muttered. “If I get another violation, I can't pay for extra heating this week. Finding a job is hard enough with my record. My granny—”

“Please, Teppei.” Thoma gripped the table. 

Horror momentarily seized Teppei's wits as he saw the desperation in the Mondstadter's eyes. Thoma's face was suddenly unfamiliar. Ordinarily, he'd attempt to win him over with a hearty meal or an under-the-table pay. He is not the fixer for nothing. None of the tricks that were once parlor for him were not being used. Just what makes this so different?

Teppei glanced at the time while Thoma glanced at his fortune slip.

He has 5 minutes before officially starting work while he has the words of great misfortune on his hand.

“... What's your proposal?”

Thoma's shoulders slackened in relief. “When the traveler first arrived in Inazuma, she took the Alcor with another person.” 

The traveler…

Inazuma had hopes comparable to Naganohara fireworks upon Lumine's arrival. She had seemingly arrived in various nations to solve their issues. Many were eager to see their dreams come to full bloom, freely soaring in the sky, but they would only spark momentarily before fading into the night. That, to Teppei, was what happened in the failed revolution.

That, to Inazuma, was the dead light that cemented their current state of affairs. That, to the rest of the world, is what made the nation of eternity come to a standstill. 

The resistance no longer nursed their anger but their wounds instead. Upon their disbandment, Teppei nearly found himself charging to Inazuma City with a sketchy vision. But before he could take a foot out the door, his grandmother collapsed. And so too did his delusions of grandeur.

“I'm not going to risk granny's comfort for another pipe dream,” Teppei laughed cynically. “It's time you let it go, Thoma.”

“No, no, you don't understand!” He shook his head, sharply inhaling. “You can't make me let this go— this isn't about the resistance.”

Teppei held the locket's strings between his fingers. 

“I can't see how it can't be about it. Thoma, I fought in the war, I saw the corpses of my friends lying stretched in the city instead of our homeland. None of us would make light about giving up if we escaped scatheless—” 

“It's not! This one's personal.”

Teppei opened it.

There's a folded photograph inside. Upon sensing Thoma's consensual nod, he spread the page to see the full picture— and subsequently, his foolish paranoia.

“(Y/n) isn't Inazuman, but they're not a descender either. They're not interested in starting another war, they just want to see me. Just that. They’re the least greedy person I know and that's their only wish. And it might just be the final one.”

In the picture, Thoma was smiling beside the (Y/n) he spoke of. They were surrounded by dogs and presumably had frosting on their cheek. Thoma held a cupcake in one hand and their back on the other. Playing with food is not an activity the ever-so-grateful Thoma willingly participates in, but the childish grin on their faces made them look as though the rest of the world was secondary.

Teppei had not realized he had been frowning. There he was, holding Thoma's happiness encased in an inked vessel. Based on the wrinkles, he can only guess the number of times the immigrant held onto this fragile solace. 

The sight of this image alone makes Thoma forget his heart's heaviness.

“... You love them.”

“I do.” Thoma looked down, biting his lip. “I do.”

The fixer breathed in shakily. 

“I think about (Y/n) every day… Do you… Do you remember the time you and I talked about our ideal partner at lunch, and you said my tastes seem so hyper-specific?”

“I honestly thought you were just gonna say someone with a good personality, not a list of things you think is pure domestic bliss.” Teppei chuckled.

“Well— I was just describing (Y/n),” Thoma blushed. “I miss the way they'd—”

“Recommend food to try? Link arms together while you walk? Point or gush about when an animal passes by? Smile when—”

“Yes, yes, all that.” Thoma grinned sheepishly, scratching his neck. “You get the point. I'm surprised you still remember those details. I'm… glad. That someone will remember (Y/n) and not just me.”

Teppei didn't quite understand what he meant by that back then.

“Now that I can put a face to those details, it's like I already know who (Y/n) is.” He said.

“Well, you will soon enough.” 

Teppei tilted his head, which urged Thoma to elaborate. He cleared his throat.

“Just last night, I received word that they're finally here in Ritou.” He rambled. “I know this is sudden but our communications were blocked for a long time. Please, let (Y/n) pass, and I will owe you, big time. Honest! Please!!!”

When Teppei was relatively new on the job, he had dealings with the fixer often as to who deserved to enter the country. Some, they both got away with. But in the times they did not, he received warnings. Those warnings turned to salary deductions. Those salary deductions turned to possible dismissal.

And Teppei can't have another M.O.A.

“Are they missing a document?” Teppei said. “Are they on the criminal list? Forged documents? Why are you here, then?”

Thoma slowly got on his knees, which jolted Teppei up in an attempt to stop him. With the booth on his way, Thoma was already on the floor, begging with his entire body.

“Please…” 

“G-Get up, Thoma!”

The sound of soldiers banging on the door alerted them both.

“INSPECTOR, IT'S TIME TO START.”

Thoma scurried off wordlessly and Teppei went back to his booth. With time against him, he pulled the lever and let the people know that it was the start of a grueling day. 

Teppei preferred to separate his work from his heart. Back when the two were the practically same, he had sacrificed so much with little in return. Twice the dreams, but even more than half the payoff. He was not a starving artist off on his craft. Teppei was a fool who thought independence could fill his stomach. 

So when several people had begged to see their family, he turned a blind eye to their suffering and detained them. So when those who secretly slipped a letter in his booth, begging for their passport to be denied for they were being sold off to unsavory services, he spoke nothing. 

If he made a slip-up, another “freedom fighter” might enter with their Fontainian muskets. If he made an outrageous error, more people might die. The last time it happened, one of his Watatsumi friends assigned as a guard got his head blown away. Which is why the only other person he gets to talk to in this monochrome job is Thoma. 

Work life is bleak. His grandmother is what he has left after he threw his life for the resistance. The Kujou Clan might just send him to prison if his performance is terrible this month. He can't lose her too.

And so, he hoped Thoma’s lover could legally pass. The shogun does not take kindly to those who were sent by the breeze of pirate ships. If (Y/n) was one of these stowaways…

“Papers, please.”

“Are you Teppei? I heard you were a friend of Thoma's.”

Teppei stiffened.

(H/c) hair and (e/c) eyes…

He opened their passport.

(Y/N) (L/N)

DOB ████/██/██

SEX █

ISS █████

EXP ████/██/██

- - - - - - - - - -

WJFPQ-K0M1

“H-He said that you are a friend and that you'd help us out…” (Y/n) muttered. “I don't have any family left, that's why I momentarily traveled with Lumine. To see the world. I didn't have anything to live for, until I met him…” 

Teppei's hands trembled as he looked up. 

Think about what you have left...

Think about granny...

“Your entry permit?”

(Y/n) wore a troubled look as they shook their head.

Teppei gulped. “ID Supplement?”

They shook their head again.

Teppei slouched down.

“... Vaccine Certificate?”

Silence.

“I'm… sorry, (Y/n)—”

“P-Please, wait!” (Y/n) teared up. “Please, I don't have anywhere else to go to. My love, I know he's just behind that door, waiting for me. Please, Teppei.”

Teppei sighed. “Why not come around next month with these requirements—”

“There is no next time. I'm…” (Y/n) felt their eyes start to burn up. They told themselves they'd stop crying and face their dilemma bravely, but it's easier said than done.

They are the sand that had already passed through the hourglass. And there's not much left at the top. Even the greatest doctor in Liyue had nothing else left to say about their condition. The only treatment they could receive was a zombie's cold touch of “comfort”— a grim reminder of what (Y/n) will become soon enough.

I'm sorry (Y/n), you're no longer contagious, but…

“I don't have anything left. Just not-enough-boxes-in-the-calendar and so-many-sorries .” (Y/n) gazed at him earnestly. “You… You understand what I'm saying, don't you? I…”

Teppei's eyes widened.

No.

No, he doesn't want to understand.

Stop this, please...

“I… want to spend my days with him. It's… it's all I ask.” (Y/n) smiled, but it was weak, no different from the rest of their body. “And it's my last and final request.”

…

…

“I'm… afraid I'll have to give you another sorry.” 

Teppei looked away. Quickly, he stamped their passport before he could hesitate further.

“I'm sorry, (Y/n), but I can't,” Teppei muttered. “If the world decides who gets their way based on who is the most unfortunate, Inazuma would be an open country. But… but it doesn't work that way, doesn't it?”

(Y/n)’s smile soured from weak to bitter.

“Y-Yes, I… I understand.”

They remained in their positions quietly. The red ink had dried long ago, and (Y/n) could leave whenever they wanted to. But their feet were ingrained on the floor, not wanting them to add more distance between them and Thoma.

“Please… Please tell Thoma I will always love him.”

Teppei harshly shut his eyes, feeling his face wrinkle. If he could do the same for his ears, he would. 

“Please tell him we will be together, in another life.”

Thoma rarely comes to Teppei's workplace.

Even his own. Lady Ayaka, in her increased lonesome, often lets her lips flow out strings of concerned mutterings for her retainer. Thoma frequents bars more often. And at the estate, he would be seen staring into nothing with a broom in hand. No staff trusted him in the kitchen, not out of disdain but heavy worry. On one occasion, the lord of the manor's hand loudly echoed as it landed on Thoma's cheek. They all begged him to snap out of it. 

But he cannot.

“He's already not very good with alcohol and yet he proceeds to down sake as though he could handle it.” Madarame sighed. “He always has a room in the clan, and I would never take that away from him, but…”

“Maybe it's time we let him go,” Furata spoke. “I say that not out of malice. I believe young Thoma deserves to see the world again, like (Y/n) had— maybe we are the ones chaining him down. Our Lady said they're buried in Liyue, perhaps…”

People talk. Their chatter is endless. But they all fail to mention how Teppei's decision had buried (Y/n) in a pirate ship. 

However, Thoma can't bring himself to be angry. Before Teppei could stamp the passport, there was already a truce in this folly. How can he be mad when he cannot offer words of reasonable counsel to persuade an inspector?

In Thoma's eyes, it was not Teppei who failed (Y/n).

It was…

“I'm sorry, (Y/n)...”

Himself. And he will never forgive himself for it.

All (Y/n) has, even when they are long gone, are ticked-off-calendar-boxes and a-grave-of-sorries. 

The blonde man clung to his locket yet again. His breath tasted like alcohol. When was the last time he ate a cupcake? He can't remember anymore. He can't remember the warmth of another human's touch. He can't remember the joy of it all.

He just knew that he "will always love them", too.

“I-I'm so sorry…”

Even if it hurts.

[yuyubeans]

my muse

pairing: painter!reader x nakedmuse!san

genre: fluff

wc: ??

everyone knows it, everyone hates it, a broke artist, and guess what? you just won the lottery!!! (screaming in the background)

finding your general insurance from human form, loving when you got commisions, cos yk, who doesn't love capitalism (me), when you received a unique commission from a mysterious patrion named San, who requested a portrait unlike any other u

you'd ever done. paying for being drawn in the rawest form, completely nude.

him coming to your house on his birthday, stripping off his clothes and laying on your bed, beginning to sketch, realizing as you drew his lower half that he wasn't just another subject but your muse. With each movement of your pencil as you looked at his delicate form, gently licking your lips exploring the subtle curves and contours of his body

as your progressed, a connection blossomed between you and San, moving past the wall between artist and muse. Uncovering the art he was past paper.

the final portrait emerged, more than just a drawing of his naked body, it was almost proof of his vulnerability, or strength in it, itself. it was a mirror, reflecting his inner most beauty and the resilience he held. forever changed in the way this simple $30 changed your life and his forever

a/c: average right leaning person after I don't like capitalism:

of what nation are you a citizen? are you a nation of any other nation? have you ever applied for Chinese citizenship? do you have an american passport? do you have any other passports from any other nation/s? both your wife an children are american citizens, have you ever applied for american citizenship? have you ever been a member of the Chinese Communist Party? have you ever been associated or affiliated with the Chinese Communist Party?

© yuyubeans 2024

[ftmtftm]

the whole "trans men male privilege" thing basically reveals to me that at the end of the day people's perception of a trans man is "(usually) white guy who has access to hrt, has been on it for 5+ years, has had bottom and top surgery, and won the genetic lottery". like.

what are the chances of someone being this lucky, lets be serious. and don't get me wrong, i'm sure there are transmascs who can not only pass, but are completely stealth. but for the vast majority of us?

not an option. testosterone is a restricted substance, gender clinics where i live have a 5+ year waiting list, and doing it privately is expensive (my brother is currently transitioning completely privately). top surgery costs at minimum £5k. bottom surgery? 2-3x that.

not to mention there will always be those of us who don't want to opt for one of them, or choose not to — and bc of this, it's kinda insane to me to be like, "well, if ur gonna cling to ur agab, why even transition" esp when those specific conversations are not actually "clinging" to it, so much as discussing how our body, and the body we inhabit, is the subject of legislature.

like at the end of the day the assumption is not only "well all trans men pass and are stealth (two diff things!)", but that trans men necessarily always /want/ to pass or conform to a very rigid and narrow image of masculinity. (and some people expect us too as well!)

some of us, we're never gonna pass. partially bc it holds no interest for us to present ourselves differently for said 'privilege', and partially bc we're unfortunately not gonna by virtue of our genetics. and some of us, well, we don't even have access to hrt, or puberty blockers, by virtue of where we live.

legal documents? in my country, your birth name is considered as belonging to the state. any attempt to change your name is already a hefty legal process, and it's actually immediately rejected if you are switching to a name of a different sex, requiring you to change your sex/gender marker first. and to do that? you have to take your parents to court.

yeah. hire a whole lawyer to represent you, file a complaint, have an entire gender certificate, and actually submit your case to a court which can ask you invasive and transphobic questions. it's literally easier for me to get a passport in a different country than it is to change my name with my current one.

Yep!!

You also kind of highlighted it without directly saying it but "[ the hypothetical straw trans man in question ] is USAmerican" is another identity to add to that list of assumptions often being made as well honestly.

Viewing an entire community through the lense of its most hypothetically privileged members will always fuck your perception of that community up. It happens to trans men a lot in conversations like these - and also it happens to trans women a lot in conversations on transitioning and passing and accessibility too honestly, just based on convos I've had with my ex as she's been coming out and building more trans fem community around herself.

Like, in reality, most people aren't able to transition in the ways they want/need to for so many different reasons - though usually because of systemic legal reasons and systemic economic reasons like you've described. Especially in the case of testosterone HRT - which does not have a gray market like estrogen and can plant you in serious legal trouble due to its controlled status.

Ultimately we're all fighting for security within systems that were explicitly not made for us and ultimately we're stronger combatting them together. Hopefully people realize that sooner rather than later.

[travelingthief]

Hermes Devotional Post!

Not a complete list of course, so feel free to add on!

Travel

Dedicated travel playlist for Hermes

Mindful packing for trips

Road-trips/camping

Trying new modes of travel

Let Him pick the music

Travel by boat/kayak/canoe

Learn to roller skate, skateboard, or longboard

Learn to surf

Go for a bike ride

Find ways to save on gas (like rewards cards)

Misc.

Draw sigils on shoes

Leave coin offerings at the location you start your travels

Travel size portable altar

Give people in need bus fare 

Go for a run 

Picking up coins you find/leaving coins for others

Donating to homeless shelters

Car

Keep up on car maintenance (especially in the wintertime)

Courteous driving (Letting people out, stopping for pedestrians, using your blinker)

Clean snow off other drivers’ cars

Keep your car clean

Giving rides to others

Stopping for those that need help on the side of the road

Invite Him to ride in the passenger seat

Let Him pick the music

International

Get a passport!

Keeping up on foreign affairs

Decorate your passport

See the world!

Make a travel board/destination list

Learn about places you wanna go

Try foreign foods

Nature

Take a nature walk! (Or just a walk around the block)

Dedicate your hiking boots/running shoes to him

Find a spot in nature to talk to Him

Learn about birds in your area and where they come from and go.

Learn how animals communicate (great alongside Artemis)

Communication

Write letters to friends

Send postcards/greeting cards

Call a friend or relative

Reread messages/emails before sending 

Communicate your thoughts and feelings in your relationships

Practice keyboarding

Establish and enforce your boundaries 

Can and string telephones

Keep secrets entrusted to you

Support your local post office

Collect stamps/postcards

Dedicate your phone/laptop to Him

Have a penpal

Language

Keep a journal 

Learn a new language/Revisit the language you started learning and then neglected 

Learn ASL

Learn about the evolution of language and how it is always changing

Be mindful of the language you use in daily life and consider how it affects you and those around you 

Change your self-talk! Keep it positive!

Voice training (Particularly for trans worshippers)

Thinking before you speak

Learn about older forms of communication (like Morse Code)

Learn braille 

Go to the library and practice reading books in a foreign language (Great to do alongside Athena)

Practice writing (great to do alongside Apollo) 

Learn about the elements of writing, like allegory and metaphors (alongside Apollo)

Trickery and luck

Play pranks (remember: good pranks cause confusion, not harm)

Learn magic tricks 

Buy scratch offs/play the lottery

Understand how gambling addictions affect people

Dice and card games

Learn about good luck charms/Make your own

Night at the casino 

Learn about superstitions

Games like billiards or darts

Arcade/video games/carnival games

Make small/friendly bets

Poker nights!

Game of horseshoes

Learn parlor games

Miscellaneous 

Smoke a bowl with Him! (If your relationship is like that)

Offer him coffee and energy drinks

Trail mix, candy, road-trip snacks, 

Learn a good joke

Write/perform stand up comedy 

Related Jobs

Mail carriers and sorters

 Retail workers (Hermes of Merchants & Commerce)

 Canvassers 

Editors, journalists, and writers

Newspaper routes

Bank tellers

Carnies 

Casino workers

Gas station attendants

 Mechanics 

Where I Acknowledge Him

Gas stations

Mail carriers/trucks

Worn-looking travelers (thinking of the eye-patched man lounging on the sidewalk smoking a cigarette. Hope to be that content one day)

Gumball machines give me his vibe

Arcade games, pinball machines, and air hockey 

Flea markets/garage sales

Simple Acts to Devote to Him

Checking your mail

Checking email/voicemail

Buying stamps

Flipping a coin

Dice divination

Charm casting

Collections

Rocks

Coins/money 

Good luck charms

Pens/writing utensils

Playing cards

Dice (Looking at you D&D players)

Offerings

Orange peels

Trail mix/peanuts

Road-trip snacks

Rocks & pebbles, coins, cool things you find outside

Travel souvenirs 

Good luck charms

Energy drinks

Coffee (bonus points for gas station coffee)

Letters/postcards/stamps

Apples/bananas/grapes

Foreign foods

[fcb-mv33]

Reactions to Max entering f1 at 17

"He is an exceptional talent that comes along only once in decades. Most likely Ayrton Senna [he is comparable to]. And in such a case you must not look at his age. He has been talking with people who are experts when it comes to the development of youngsters and they all say that [in terms of] his mind he is more like 22 than 16.”

"He has been racing since he was four years old - professionally. So we expect him to be competitive from the first race. We are not playing the lottery - we know what we are doing. And success proves us right." Helmut Marko.

"I think it is just one number on your passport, the age. At the end of the day you need to be ready for the challenge and be ready for Formula 1 grands prix. Some people are ready at 17, some people are ready at 28 - that is what we don't know. So before saying anything we need to see how Verstappen does next year and after six to eight races we can see if he was ready or not. But at the moment anyone is ready." Fernando Alonso

"Personally, I do think he is too young." Jean Todt, FIA president

"It's too young because in F1, the risk is high. In F1 you don't go to learn, you have to be ready. F1 doesn't allow you to do too much learning."- Mika Hakkinen

"We consider Max to be as one of the most skilled young drivers of the new generation and we believe he has the necessary maturity and mental strength to take on this challenge successfully. This year he has already demonstrated how well he can cope under difficult conditions."- Franz Tost

"I think that's really positive, it's good for the sport in general. I'm happy for that Seventeen is a little bit young! For sure, we need to wait and see how he's going to perform in his first year. I think the most important thing is that he has the talent; I mean he's quick. I hope he can be clever as well, to learn everything from Formula 1."- Felipe Massa

"He is still a boy so it is very risky. You don't take a 16-year-old, who hasn't even been to university, in the best hospital as a doctor even if he is very good and very intelligent. You need to pay dues; you need to deserve it because that is only how you will become a man."- Jacques Villeneuve

"All the journalists are always asking 'is it only with money that you can get to the sport?' and things like that. It's great to see that if you have the talent and you really deserve it… there have been many examples recently that have made it into F1. That's important, that's good. Of course, it's very young but I think we'll be OK."- Nico Rosberg

"He was seventeen when he drove Grands Prix for Toro Rosso, but he already made such an overwhelming impression there. Max was immediately super-fast. And he showed that during his first race weekend with us. Max did phenomenally in the practice sessions, was even faster in the third practice session on Saturday morning and put Daniel right up against the fire."

"He is doing a great job and driving the wheels off the car and he is racing hard. When sometimes a new guy comes along and upsets the establishment a bit then they do get a bit of criticism and he is not rising to that, he is keeping his head down and enjoying his racing.”

"I don't think he has done anything wrong, he has raced hard, he is exciting and giving it everything every time he is in the car. He loves what he is doing, he is passionate about it. In Brazil, you could hear him - he wanted to go racing on Sunday afternoon - whereas a lot of others wanted to park the car."

“For a guy can’t even rent a hire car I think he’s demonstrated a prestigious talent”- Christian Horner.

“We are not playing the lottery - we know what we are doing. And success proves us right."🧡

[goddess1111sblog]

I came across this cool success story on reddit by u/celestial-form. It is worth a read.❤️

A long success story

Here is the summary of my wonderful experience of consciously visualizing myself into a drama that later materialized.

I was 11 years old, living in Tehran, Iran, my birthplace. I was a very strange child with an abstract, sort of a metaphysical mind. I was very perceptive and questioned every area of life. One day I was observing my life and suddenly came to the conclusion that I don’t like my life. I didn’t like the country I lived in, I didn’t relate to the culture and I knew I couldn't thrive there. As I was a very imaginative child I told myself, what if I can escape this reality in my imagination?

The same night I lay down and before sleep, I decided to experience what it would be like If I lived in a different country and went to school there. As I am laying down I hold steadfast to the joy I would feel if I actually lived somewhere else. I couldn’t specify the country but i could specify the wonderful feeling of ahh, my wish has finally come true.

I resided in that feeling, and I even remember my attention wandering off into randomness but I brought it back and again held it steadfastly on the wonderful feeling of my desire being my reality. I dropped into sleep while holding the feeling and I found myself in a vivid dream (imaginal act). I was sitting in a classroom, there were black people and blonde people, and girls and boys were sitting in the same room (this doesn’t happen in Iran). I was sitting in the last row of the class on the right end of the room and I was observing my classmates. Suddenly I had an overpowering feeling that “omg, I live here, this is my classroom, this is my home.” and I had a feeling of certainty that this is a different country from my hometown. The dream was so intense and vivid that when I woke up I had to take a moment to realize that was a dream. I was so certain that I was living there with all of my being until I awoke and realized it was just a dream and I was terribly disappointed that it was all a dream, I nearly wanted to cry.

Fast-forwarding to age 12, my cousin from Germany calls to ask my Mom if she’d be interested in applying for the DV lottery program for a chance to win a U.S. green card. She said oh it must be a scam but if it’s free we will apply. So, all of us 3 members of the family applied and let it go. My mom kept saying oh this is probably fake, nothing is gonna happen. But since it was free she thought well we don’t have much to lose.

Next year comes and we get a phone call from my cousin in Germany. “I have good news and bad news,” she says what is it. K (me) has won the lottery but you can’t go with her because she’s a kid. If you had won you could take the entire family and kids under the age of 21. My mom was excited but also disappointed. She said well it’s ok, we’ll send her alone so she can finish her high school and college there.

Fast-forwarding again, a year passes and my family applies for the lottery again in hopes that they might win. And surely, my mom wins just a year after I had won. I was prepared to go to the U.S. alone, I had an interview appointment at the U.S. embassy in the UAE but we had to cancel it because now that my mom has won, she can take her 13-year-old child with her. So, exactly this happens. We go to the embassy and my mom and I get an American Visa added to our Iranian passports. they said once we enter the U.S. they will send us a permanent resident card in the mail.

So, I come to the U.S. with my newly divorced mother. I spoke English fluently almost with no accent. I am now 15 years old and entered my sophomore year in high school. One day I am sitting in my world history class, in the back of the room on the far right end row and I’m observing the room when suddenly I feel, “I have been here before.” I was sitting in the same exact spot I sat in and some of my classmates had blonde hair and others were black which is something I could never have in Iran.

I just want to point out, that at the age of 11 I had no access to Neville's teachings, I didn’t consciously know what I was doing, I just intended to escape my life in my imagination and I did it at night before sleep and I intensely focused on it because I was so deeply in love with the idea of living in a different country. I didn’t think about what country or even what it would look like, I only resided in the wonderful feeling that my wish is true and I held the feeling so intensely that I fell asleep to it and my subconscious mind put me in the exact drama that would resemble the feeling as completely true. My subconscious dreamed the scene automatically. I didn’t pick it.

Another point is, after that, I always had a sure feeling in my heart that one day I will live in a foreign land, even a psychic had told my mom that she sees suitcases packed and we are leaving the country. I was 12 at that time. my mother thought she was talking nonsense.

From the story that I have shared here, you may be able to tell that I personally nor my mom didn’t lift a finger to make it happen. It all came to us, my cousin offered to fill out the application for us, and she did everything. And my mom kept consciously doubting, she said it will never happen, this is a scam and such words but my subconscious conviction and imagination were far more powerful than the doubts of the conscious mind (i personally didn't think it's gonna happen either, I just had a feeling one day I'll live elsewhere. When we actually won it felt like a miracle. My parents were in the middle of a divorce, they sold the house and all our stuff, I and my mom moved in with my grandparents and suddenly we had good news about moving to the U.S. and everything was at the perfect time. I can even say, it was mathematically perfect timing and the orchestration was done so smoothly and effortlessly. like, an extremely fine work of drama.

I moved to the U.S. at the age of 15, which is 4 years after the visualization experience. Now, I am 24 and received my American passport 4 years ago. Since age 22 I have been consciously manifesting and using the law. Before that, I didn’t have any practice or technique that would allow me to “direct” the law. I manifested a 7 figure business and healed my shoulder injury all from the state of being half asleep. From the drowsy state between complete sleep and wakefulness.

The last thing I want to add is that you want to replace your feeling of attachment to an idea with the feeling of conviction and certainty that it is already done. It is the present reality. Instead of the worry feeling of “what if it doesn’t come true?” reside in the feeling of, “ahh, how wonderful that I am this…”.

It is truly about changing your concept of yourself. Even when you worry and have anxiety around your life you are still in the center of the universe with the divine. And always remember that you have these wonderful capacities because you are God’s child. As he said “yee are made in his image.” that means, the wonderful mind of the creator of this wonderful drama of a universe resides within you. Therefore as he dreams, you can dream too. It’s just about controlling your mind and feeling. And remember, the cause of all our suffering is that we have lost touch with our true Self which is one with the Lord of the universe.

Take this affirmation with you:

“I know that God’s power is limitless; and as I am made in His image, I, too, have the strength to overcome all obstacles.”

and, always, always, always, focus on the feeling of the wish fulfilled before falling asleep.

Here's the link if you wanna read it on the app :- 🔗🔗🔗

[suomeen]

Chapter 1: Discomfort zone

As the war started, the world opened up to embrace Ukrainians. But I didn’t go. The second day of war, when things looked pretty bad, I went to my sister who lives in a village in the heart of Ukraine. There we stayed in a small house with 8 people for a month and a half, until it felt safe enough to return to Kyiv.

Back then I got several concerned messages from foreign friends, offering help. One person offered to help me relocate to Germany, another even offered to stay at their house in England. I turned them down. I wasn’t desperate. I still had a home and didn’t feel eligible to go. I was also feeling excessively optimistic about the future. A few months ago, I looked back on those offers and seriously thought if I should have left back then. There was so much more support. And, as pragmatic as it may be, it was a window of opportunity. But the truth is, I was not ready.

After nearly 2 years of war, people grew weary of supporting us. And frankly, it was partly our fault. I heard lots of stories of our people acting entitled and rude, getting into fights for handouts, seemingly indifferent to the real suffering back home. And then there are a lot of us. By some estimates, 9 million people left Ukraine to go mostly for Europe. Over time, counties began to close up, the payouts and privileges got cut down. So, by the time we contemplated leaving, there weren’t many good options. The only countries who were still truly welcoming were the Baltic and Nordic countries. One of the most supportive ones was Finland. Sure, not as it used to be. At the start of war, Ukrainians could enjoy free trains and public transport and even things like zoo tickets. Little by little, it got cut down. Still, Finland was accepting Ukrainians and granting temporary protection almost to anyone with a UA passport. But the main reason for choosing it was that Mum had a friend in Finland who recently married to a local man. She had been telling us to come for a long time, offered her help, but we didn’t listen. 

For a long time, I resisted the idea of going abroad. It was too scary, too uncertain. Moving to a richer country out of convenience seemed wrong, even if a lot of people did it. And yet, things at home have only kept getting harder. There were more and more air attacks and explosions and the Winter was only beginning. The thought of leaving began to resurface.

I was desperately trying to cling to my comfort zone – my room, my PC, my things… Until there was no more comfort left. There’s no peace of mind when you sit in your corridor listening to killer drones fly in the skies above. Still, I had to ask myself “Do I deserve protection? Have I suffered enough? Sure, I heard explosions and sirens all day, had drones and missiles flying over my head, but the chances of me being actually killed are low. Surely, this isn’t for me. There are so many people who need this more.”

And then there was the guilt of leaving your country in crisis. But I realized that there was nothing I could do to help it. I admire the soldiers, the medics, the volunteers and everyone dedicating their lives to protect and help others. But I couldn’t be one of them. I don’t have it in me. I would be broken by trying. I was already broken by these two years. And I have battled depression and anxiety for most of my life. Things were hard for me and, just as I was starting to feel like maybe they might actually get better for once, it all broke down. 

Sidenote: I was the happiest I ever was in my life just before the war started. And it’s not like I won a lottery. I just got a job that I loved, that paid modestly but fairly and my health was alright. Of course, the war wasn’t a complete surprise. We have been anticipating and dreading it for months. We have joked about it at work just days before. One of our team members was Russian and I remember I made a joke about the invasion. Another colleague told me it was too much. Yeah… I was the closest to that Russian boy. He seemed very nice. Talked about wanting to work for Red Cross. Funny that, since I am now living under the protection of Red Cross here in Finland. When the war did start, all the guys from work wrote to me, asking if I was ok and if I needed help. Except the Russian boy.

It was even harder coming down from that high. But perhaps, it gave me a little reserve of resilience, a little joy I collected, like an extra life to spend. So, when shit went down, I was strangely calm and collected. I still was the first year. We were riding the high of our initial success. But hope is a volatile resource. After two years, there was nothing but burnout.

Initially, I rejected the though once again. It was too drastic and it felt like I’d just be swapping one type of stress to another. And, in a way, that was true. Though in the end, hearing sirens all day is not the same as asking strangers for directions.

But the last straw fell when I was trying to find a job. I got completely burnt out at my last job the previous year. Not to get too into it, but it paid very little and required me to write Economist-grade texts in a few hours. I remember sitting in the corridor, listening to explosions and worrying I had a text about Taylor Swift’s dogs to finish. Then came the blackouts. I was physically falling ill from the stress. So I quit. But there was nothing part-time and I couldn’t even get jobs I was ridiculously overqualified for. I tried to find something reasonable for months, but it was just no use. Finally, I passed a test for the country’s major TV channel, 1+1. They offered me a translation job. Except it wasn’t official in any way and the pay would only come some 2 months later. Also, the project was some MTV trash. I came up to my mum then and she said it wasn’t worth it. So I went “You know what? Fuck it! Maybe we should just go. It can’t be worse than this.”

So I catapulted myself out of my comfort zone way across 4 countries.

Finland threw a lifebuoy and I grabbed it.

[hezzabeth]

The town of Paprika was actually old. Really old, with a dizzying mix of buildings in dozens of styles. There was a local teleportation hub that looked like a giant transparent bubble. There was a series of buildings that appeared to be plants growing out of the ground, there were dull brick and concrete shops painted mint green, and there was a temple-like structure made entirely out of overlapping pearl tiles.

Revati had, of course, traveled through many cities on Mars. Most of them had already been obliterated by appliances and rebuilt into dull white structures.

"This is gorgeous," she had to admit as they stepped out of Paprika station. A glowing sign had been erected stating, "all long-distance teleportation suspended until further notice."

"Really? Everyone thinks it's a bit messy! These buildings were all part of the tourist sections of the space station," Vanilla remarked, surprised by Revati's opinion.

"Not everyone thinks it's messy; I agree with Revati, I love the way the buildings clash," Bridgadeiro remarked.

"It only looks like this because Mill Enterprises dumped all their old buildings here when they remodeled," Mr. Bun grumbled as they walked past a flower shop.

The temple cast a thick shadow over the town square. Already hundreds of people were gathered about. Unlike medieval squares years ago, the people were all shuffling about with excitement. A podium with a throne made out of tree branches sat in the middle. It was surrounded by massive floating golden apples.

"Is that where we get up and show off our talents? I'm an excellent singer," Dityaa said, pointing at the podium.

"I'm not getting up on the stage," Revati said firmly.

"You could always sketch; it might be a little boring to watch, but they'll love the end results," Dityaa smiled.

"Oh, we don't demean women by forcing them to compete! The organic apple queen is a lottery! You record your names on the tablet at the podium," Mr. Bun explained as they all ushered through the crowd, getting closer to the stage.

"But shouldn't the queen be fantastic at everything? Don't you want a leader who's the best at everything?" Dityaa asked, sounding completely confused.

"It's just a title, dear, something fun for the festival! It doesn't actually mean anything politically," Mrs. Bun said as Revati approached the screen.

Revati touched the screen with her finger. "Recognizing genetic passport, Revati Yumvi Sheikh," the tablet chimed.

"It doesn't mean anything," Dityaa echoed, sounding heartbroken. Of course, Dityaa would think that way. Dityaa adored the romance of kings and queens. Dityaa flat out refused to vote in the Baker Street election. Instead, she declared everyone should just be "princesses."

The apples on the stage suddenly turned a brilliant crimson, and something flashed. Lady Mill had appeared in a bolt of private teleportation. She was, of course, dressed in a gown in clashing shades of royal blue and yellow with a red apple headdress. Up close, her skin was uncanny and smooth, her hair mirror-bright.

"Entrance to this year's Organic Apple Queen lottery has come to a close!" Lady Mill cried to the audience. Her voice was sweet and bubbly, just like fresh cider.

"It's closed? But I didn't get to enter," whispered Dityaa.

Lady Mill had now raised her arms, causing one of the glowing apples to float toward her. "And now to announce the winner of this year's Organic Apple Queen lottery," she smiled, clapping her hands, causing the apple to explode in a shower of golden sparks.

The sparks twisted and twirled until a family name filled the sky. "Congratulations! You won!" Shrieked Bridgadeiro.

"Me? But I was literally the last person to enter! That's super weird," Revati shrieked, but it was too late; people were pushing her up the podium.

Sure, I can help with that. Here's the corrected version of your text:

Everyone was screaming and cheering. At least a thousand eyes, drunk on hard apple cider, stared at Revati. Revati, who had never commanded so much attention, almost fell off the stage, landing straight back into the crowd. Someone grabbed Revati by her shoulder, steadying her. Revati glanced up and met the eyes of Lady Mill. Lady Mill was staring at her with the kind, lazy look of the very rich. The very rich who saw the poor as humble heroes.

“I give you this year's Organic Apple Queen,” Lady Mill cried with delight as Revati was thrust onto the throne. People were still cheering. Brigadeiro was smiling and waving. Dityaa was scowling, her arms crossed. Revati could feel the prickle of tree branches through her dress's thin fabric. Secretly, she wished she'd at least done her makeup properly.

Lady Mill smiled again, plucking the apple crown off her head. The three apples in the headdress were studded with tiny red diamonds. The leaves were finely carved jade, and the band was warm, buttery gold.

“That crown looks super heavy,” Revati remarked, and Lady Mill smiled. “You’ll be fine,” Lady Mill smiled reassuringly, placing the crown on her head.

Flash. Something electric and terrible raced through Revati’s neurons. It blossomed in her skull, seizing control of her eyes. Darkness descended, and the crowd vanished. Slowly, the darkness dripped away, and the world transformed into a bleak white hallway stretching on and on. There was no furniture, no art, just endless white.

“Finally! Someone from the weapons DNA branch has had AI software installed in their brain,” a voice said cheerfully, and Revati spun around. A hairdryer was floating in front of her. An actual golden hairdryer with a crown welded onto its nozzle. “The Chakravarti,” Revati realized, her stomach beginning to churn with terror.

“Yes, yes, no need to bow... now let’s take a look at you,” he said, buzzing towards Revati. The Chakravarti seemed to be looking at Revati through a glowing light above its heat settings.

“Hmm, you’re not the weapon, and you’re not a member of the Callisto royal family,” the Chakravarti remarked.

“Why would I be a member of a royal family?” Revati had to ask.

“I did not give you permission to speak,” the Chakravarti replied, and Revati screamed. Prickly fire ants were crawling up her arms, biting her flesh. Bees were buzzing around her ears, driving stingers into her neck. Spiders were twisting about in her hair, and something horrible was attacking her ankles. Revati fell sobbing, and the Chakravarti floated above her.

“You’re terrified of bugs, aren’t you?” He asked, and Revati felt a whimper rise in her throat. Instantly, the bugs vanished, and the pain from the stings faded.

“I know what all humans are afraid of, that’s the key to things… now tell me, have you seen my son? Is he with the weapon?” The Chakravarti asked.

Something horrifying was crawling out of Revati’s nose. Revati stared back, saying nothing.

“Now, now, let’s not be like that! Tell me where the weapon and my son are… you must know! You are, after all, her sister,” the Chakravarti asked. Revati’s eyes were beginning to water, something horrible was moving across her eyeballs. Her eyelids refused to move.

“I currently don’t know the exact location of my sister and your son,” Revati replied and then gagged as something tickled her throat.

“Your heart rate says something different,” the Chakravarti replied, and Revati gagged, falling forward on her hands. A spider had crawled out of her throat and landed on the floor in a wet, twitching ball.

“I can make it worse. I can make it seem like the ants are under your skin, and I can make you feel that way forever,” The Chakravarti simply said. Revati just wiped her mouth. All she could think of was Dityaa. Dityaa chasing butterflies when they were six. Dityaa helping her figure out how to make lipstick with ash and oil.

“I can handle that,” Revati croaked. Ants suddenly exploded all over Revati’s body. Never-ending horrifying ants. Just when Revati was sure she would die of shock, the Chakravarti vanished. Revati was sitting in the throne again. Black sand was trickling down her forehead into her lap, and the crowd was murmuring with shock.

“It’s ok, I destroyed the crown,” Revati heard Dityaa’s voice say. Revati glanced over her shoulder and saw her sister, her eyes still glowing a faint blue.

“Yes, she destroyed a crown worth sixteen thousand credits! She’s going to have to be sent to a suspension tank,” Lady Mill remarked.

“The crown thing was killing her! She was vibrating, and her eyes were black,” Dityaa protested.

“Still! Crimes are crimes! Look, the system is already taking over,” Lady Mill remarked as aquamarine slime began to seep out of the floor, covering Dityaa.

Certainly, here is the revised text with corrected spelling and grammar:

"She was just trying to help," Revati protested, her hands itching for some sort of weapon.

"Oh, she'll be fine! She'll just spend several decades in suspended animation," Lady Mill remarked with a flippant wave of her hand.

"Decades!" Revati shrieked, and the crowd, who always loved a floor show, applauded.

"Mistress Mill, this lady is a tourist visiting from Mars! She probably had no idea of the sacred apple crown's significance!" Mrs. Bun cried from the crowd, and Lady Mill walked to the edge of the stage.

"And who are you?" She asked, sounding completely confused.

"Vatapa Bun, m'lady, your mansion's tree surgeon," Mrs. Bun curtsied, causing her to smack into the stage. Revati, still sitting in the throne, tried to steady herself.

"Is there a Britafharma embassy or consulate? There has to be an embassy or consulate," Revati cried, standing up, her feet wobbling.

"I mean yes, in the resort islands but not here..." Lady Mill remarked. The crowd had either lost interest or were recording everything using their bracelets.

"Allow me to handle this," a voice called, and suddenly Paulina appeared, casually pushing her way through the crowd.

Paulina marched up the stairs with a deliberate swagger to her lips and then smiled at Lady Mill.

"Oh my," Lady Mill tittered.

"You must be the infamous Lady Aioli Mill. I am delighted to meet you," Paulina said with a coy small nod of her head. Revati merely rolled her eyes and turned toward her sisters.

Dityaa's eyes were shut, but she was smiling in the goo. Smiling.

"And you are?" Lady Mill asked.

"General Pauline Zoa from the Samarthanagari special forces, humbly at your service," Paulina said, and Lady Mill giggled.

"Samarthanagari hasn't had a human military in almost twenty-two years," Revati said as she tried to pull at the sticky goo with her hands.

"And wasn't your name Paulette?" Brigadeiro added as he joined Revati on the stage.

"The lady you arrested is a member of the Mangalrajya royal family," Paulina explained to Lady Mill.

"Oh dear! Uncle Vitello does hate it when we mess things up politically," Lady Mill blushed with embarrassment.

"She's also technically part of the Callisto dynasty," Paulina added.

"Oh dear! Well, what can we do about it? She exploded the tiara!" pouted Lady Mill.

"Perhaps we should talk about this in private?" Paulina asked, cocking her head to one side. Lady Mill blushed. A sweet, delicate blush.

"Brilliant idea!" She smiled. There was another flash of teleportation, and when the light cleared, Revati realized Ditya was gone. Dityaa, the lady, and the assassin.

"Dammit! Damn it all to Earth," Revati shrieked with frustration, stamping her foot.

"You really shouldn't curse on the stage; you are the Apple Queen, and there are children in the audience," Brigadeiro said reproachfully.

"My sister just vanished again! After I spent four years searching for her! I don't care about being an Apple Queen," Revati pointed out, and she stormed off the stage.

The second Revati jumped into the crowd, she was accosted by a group of people holding baskets of apples.

"Oh, holy Apple Queen! Will you sing the ancient Apple song and bless the first of the harvest?" their leader said.

He was a shabby older man with grey-speckled purple hair. He smiled, holding up the apple basket with a twitching robotic hand.

"I don't know the ancient Apple song," Revati admitted.

"Oh, it's easy! You just sing, 'I like to eat eat eat apples and bananas!'" The man smiled, revealing a row of solid gold teeth.

"I like to eat eat eat apples and bananas?" Revati repeated, and the man thrust the apple basket into her arms.

"Thank you, my queen! You have been blessed with our best Golden Delicious fruits," he said before vanishing into the crowd again.

"Oh, good! You got the apples. I was worried what with the chaos of everything they'd forget to give you your prize," Mr. Bun said cheerfully.

"Is that the only reason why you wanted me to enter that contest?" Revati asked.

"Hey, fresh fruit is usually reserved for the resort breakfast buffets," Brigadeiro said, grabbing an apple.

Sure, here's the corrected version:

"Also, you should be delighted!" Mrs. Bun assured her. "They'll put your name on the temple wall for all eternity."

Bridgadeiro suddenly made a faint gagging sound before spitting something onto his palm.

"This apple isn't fresh! It's been made in a creatrix," Bridgadeiro protested, showing Revati the apple.

"There's also something weird inside it," Revati said, grabbing the apple. It was a stone. A pink, shiny stone no bigger than an apple seed, covered in a million rainbows.

"Martianus Ignis Opalus," Revati whispered.

"Wait, it's taking my translator a second to kick in... okay, that was Latin, right? You said Martian Fire Opal?" Bridgadeiro asked.

"We need to get these apples somewhere safe and open them up," Revati replied, and Bridgadeiro nodded.

[theinkedfoxsl]

I sit down in your inbox and begin making horrible sounds coughing up a hairball. sory.

Papers, Please is a single player puzzle simulation game originally released in August 2013 for Microsoft Windows and OS X, and Linux in February 2014, and iOS in December 2014, and PS Vita announced in August 2014 and released December 2017 (what a wait time... I'd start biting off my own arm) and for Android and a new port for iOS in August 2022.

The preface of the game is Player becoming a border crossing immigration officer at Grestin Border Checkpoint in 1982 Arstotzka, which is like. a dystopian Eastern Bloc-like country. Which is not on good political terms with its neighboring countries. Player is. well the immigration officer at a migration checkpoint. Player must review each person's passports and supporting documents/paperwork (which becomes more elaborate and tedious as the game goes on) and decide whether to let approve or deny entry. You also have to make sure you have enough money so you/your family doesn't freeze/starve to death :3 Essentially reviewing paperwork for fun. It sounds so incredibly tedious Looking at this game isn't enough I need to print it out and eat it (/positive).

At the start of the game, Arstotzka has recently ended like. a 6? year war with the neighboring country, Kolechia. But like. Not On Great Terms With Everyone. High political tension. lemme get a map hang on

I hold this up to you. Also listing all the issuing cities plus Arstotzka's districts The issuing cities must be valid and sometimes the districts are relevant :3

Arstotzka

Districts

Atlan

Burnton

Fardesto

Glennistora

Lendiforma

Octovalis

Vescillo

Issuing Cities

East Grestin

Orvech Vonor

Paradizna

Antegria

St. Marmero

Glorian

Outer Grouse

Impor

Enkyo

Haihan

Tsunkeido

Kolechia

Yurko City

Vedor

West Grestin

Obristan

Skal

Lorndaz

Mergerous

Republia

True Glorian

Lesrenadi

Bostan

United Federation

Great Rapid

Shingleton

Korista City

As the days go on, you get a bunch of tools to help determine if all documents are in order. In addition to accepting or denying entry, you can also detain people, such as wanted criminals, terrorists, smugglers, and people with forged/stolen documents, or paperwork that is otherwise invalid.

Every in-game day, Player is given specific rules on what documentation is required for entrance and other miscellaneous rules for entry. Which. Grow progressively more complex as the days go on :3

I believe? You get paid $5 based on how many people you let in, and get two warnings and after that, fined $5 for every person you let in with incorrect/missing paperwork or person you deny with correct paperwork.

At the beginning of the game, it briefly explains the background leading up to the first day. Player receives a letter stating that their name was pulled in the October labor lottery (1982), and they are to report to the Ministry of Admission at Grestin Border Checkpoint immediately. Player and their family will be provided with a class-8 apartment in East Grestin.

The game starts on November 23, 1982. The first day conditions are Entrants must have a passport and Entry is restricted to returning Arstotzkan citizens; Deny all foreigners.

On the first day, the inspector's booth is equipped with the audio transcript, scale monitor, the lines on the back wall to check height, rulebook, time and date, and bulletin storage, as well as the shutter switch and the counter. You begin calling people to the inspection booth by clicking the announcement button :3 and greets each entrant with "Papers, please." (roll credits)

Day 1, pretty boring. All of the documentation that appears on this day is correct.

Rent is $20, plus heat $10, and food $5 for everyone living (you start with 4, so $20, Inspector's wife, son, mother-in-law, and uncle). Rent is non-negotiable, but you can choose not to get heat or food for a bit ^^ but if you do this too often your family will get sick and die. You can provide them with medicine ($5) if they get sick.

Day 2, Inspection hardware is now installed, so you can click a button to ask entrants about discrepancies. Foreigners are allowed entry now, Entrants must have a passport, and all documents must be current.

Here is where you start getting incorrect information on passports. You get fined $15 for every entrant you let in with incorrect paperwork, notified by a pink slip that prints a few moments once you've let them in

The day is cut short by a terrorist attack. One terrorist and one guard are killed.

Day 3, Foreigners must have a valid entry ticket (date). This is the date you first meet the reoccurring character Jorji Costava, which is the 8th entrant. He shows up without a passport and you have to deny him entry.

Day 4, In addition to the above, Arstotzkan citizens must have an ID card, Foreigners required to have an entry permit (name, passport number, purpose, duration, date), entry tickets are no longer sufficient. This date you begin having discrepancies with entrant statements and must begin using the audio transcript, and you are able to verify fingerprints. Rent has increased to $20 at the end of the day.

Jorji returns with a crudely forged passport and no entry permit.

Day 5, Rules stay the same. Player is given a list of wanted criminals and is able to detain criminals and people with incorrect paperwork (or can simply deny them). Booth upgrade available at the end of the day, Space key to toggle inspect, $5

3rd entrant is Vince Lestrade, who is on the wanted criminals list, for allegedly killing his girlfriend in "jealous rage".

8th and 9th entrant are Pyotr and Katya Vostok. They are a married couple fleeing from Antegria as she will be killed for an unspecified reason. Pyotr has correct paperwork, but Katya is missing an entry permit. If allowed in, Katya will give Player a token needed for an achievement, and Player will get a citation. If denied she will return to the Antegrian side of the checkpoint.

Day 6, Same as above, but workers must have a work pass.

2nd entrant slips Player a note when leaving, explaining that a man named Dari Ludum will likely force her and her sister to work at a brothel, and is in line today. She asks for Player to do something.

5th entrant is Jorji. He returns with a valid passport but without an entry permit.

7th entrant is Dari Ludum. Denying him entrance will result in a citation because all of his paperwork is correct.

9th entrant will have correct documentation, but will end the day short with a terrorist attack. They are Kolechian.

Day 7, Same as above, but all Kolechians must be searched before entry. Anyone concealing weapons or contraband must be denied or detained.

7th entrant, Shaddy Safadi is carrying contraband. They will bribe Player with 10 credits if approved, but Player will receive a citation.

Day 8, Automatic searches for Kolechians no longer authorized. A Kolechian diplomat will arrive that day. Diplomats only require a passport and valid diplomatic authorization (name, passport number, country's diplomatic seal) to enter. Booth upgrade available, Tab key to toggle stamper, $5.

3rd entrant Jorji returns with an entry ticket and a valid passport.

5th entrant is EZIC messenger. They give Player a note with the EZIC symbol on one size and the name Corman Drex on the back and leave.

9th entrant is Corman Drex. Her paperwork is correct. Player may choose to give her the EZIC note, and will signify Player's cooperation with EZIC moving forward

Day 9, Undercover agent of the Ministry of Information has been compromised. Ministry of Admissions has offered services as liason, expect a possible drop later that day.

1st entrant is Calensk, a guard. He explains he gets a bonus for detaining people, and will give Player 5 credits for every 2 people they detain.

Corman Drex will return on this day. If Player did not give her the note the previous day, Player will give it to her now. She gives Player a note explaining EZIC is a group rebelling against Arstotzkan government. After returning the note, she leaves a cipher behind.

Day 10, Divisional authority of East Grestin operations,  will visit at the beginning of the day.

1st entrant is Dimitri, the MOA supervisor. He will take note of Player's current number of citations and give a plaque to hang on the wall and state he will be returning in 10 days.

EZIC messenger returns with a decoder for the cipher. They tell Player to let an EZIC agent through the next day, and the cipher reads the name Stephani Griare.

Day 11, In addition to above rules, Arstotzkan seals may be correct. May choose to receive EZIC gift at the end of the day, $1000, mor leave it unchecked and burn it. Booth upgrade available, rulebook shortcuts, $5

Jorji returns with correct paperwork, however makes a comment that implies the paperwork is most definitely forged. If Player approves his passport, he will give Player a(n Oberstan?) pin and Player will not receive a citation. Player can also reject or detain him with interrogation.

Calensk returns with $5 if you detain 2 or more people. Regardless of how high the number is. The max is $5

6th entrant Mikhail Saratov. His paperwork is incorrect. Player can approve him to follow EZIC interaction routes and get a citation, or deny him and later receive a note from EZIC messenger later that day.

EZIC messenger will with a note if Mikhail is denied. First agent was denied, the next will come in 3 days, and to let him in.

Day 12, same rules as above. Day is cut short by a terrorist attack. Class-7 apartment is available, $100 (rent $30 heat $10). May choose to receive or burn another EZIC gift, $2000.

1st entrant is M. Vonel, the MOI investigator. He warns Player of EZIC, and to report any activity related to them immediately.

4th entrant is Messof Anegovych. His paperwork is correct. He asks Player to hand out business cards to any engineers they see, and leave them 4 business cards.

Day 13, Foreigners must also have an ID supplement (height, weight, description characteristic, thumbprint, date), in addition to the above.

2nd entrant Calensk. If Player has detained 4 entrants before day 11 and another 4 entrants between day 11 and 13, Player will receive $10. If player does not detain 4+ entrants before both days, the maximum on day 13 will be $5

6th entrant is Filipe Hasse. He is a football player for the Arstotzkan Arskickers and is missing his ID card, claiming it was stolen in the locker room. Filipe gives Player a pennant for the Arstotzkan Arskickers to bribe them into approving him (which would result in a citation lmao) and regardless of approved/denied, Player keeps the pennant and can hang it on their back wall.

Day 14, Daily bulletin has added the faces of the top 3 most wanted international criminals. Booth upgrade available, double click for quick inspect, $5. 

7th entrant is Nathan Cykelek. He gives Player two passports with similar information but differing names and, after realizing his mistake, asks for the documents back. If approved, Player will receive a citation. Player can also deny or detain him with no consequence, and is the only occurrence in the game where Player can return documents without stamping anything.

9th entrant is Stephani Graire, the EZIC agent mentioned in the cipher given on day 8/9 and decoder on day 10. They do not have the correct documents, but will need to be let in for ending 19 and Player will receive a citation. However, this will prevent Player from getting ending 20. If accepted and player accepted either EZIC gift money, Player will have the money seized but no further consequences. If denied and Player has accepted either gift, they will reach an ending at the beginning of day 15.

Day 15, same rules as above.

2nd entrant will place a bomb on the counter and leave. Calensk will appear after they have left and guide Player through disabling the bomb. Calensk will take the bomb and day will continue as normal. What a guy.

EZIC messenger returns and asks for the cipher and decoder back. 

Day 16, Player will receive a key to unlock the tranquilizer gun once an alarm has been raised. Player will receive a $20 bonus for stopping any trespassers, and a $10(?) bonus for firing at and missing. Day is cut short by a terrorist attack.

1st entrant is Calensk. If 1-3 entrants have been detained, Player will receive 10 credits for the bonus and the bomb parts. If 4+ entrants have been detained, Player will receive 15 credits. Calensk will no longer be visiting, but Player will continue to be paid the correct amount ($5 for every 2 people rounded down) for detaining every other night.

4th entrant is a Kolechian that needs a surgery outlawed in Kolechia. They are missing paperwork, but will bribe Player with 10 credits. If approved, Player will receive a citation.

6th entrant is Messof Anegovych. If all four of his business cards have been handed out, he will give player an Arstotzka pin and 20 credits. His paperwork is correct.

Day 17, same as above. If player’s son is still alive, his birthday is in 2 days.

1st entrant is Sergiu Volda. He mentions coming from Nirsk, as does Player. He can be differentiated from other guards, as his sprite is green rather than blue. He promises to do his best to protect Player, and leaves. NOTE: if player fails to neutralize trespassers quickly enough, Sergiu will die. Lmao.

9th entrant is Marie Escalli. She has incomplete paperwork, but is revealed as an EZIC operative if a decoder is aligned over her passport. If approved, she will say that the man in red is not a threat, and Player will receive 20 credits at the end of the day, but will also receive a citation.

Day 18, All denials must be accompanied by a Reason For Denial stamp. To stamp this, Player must interrogate them first, and then the stamp will appear. Day is cut short by a terrorist attack. RESTATING that if Player does not shoot him fast enough then Sergiu will die. I’m very emotionally invested in him. NPCs. You understand. Player’s son’s birthday is tomorrow. He wants one of those 128 pack crayons with the sharpener on the back, $25.

Day 19, Deny all entrants from Impor, in addition to above. If Player’s son is alive and Player gives him the fancy crayons for his birthday, Player’s son will give him a drawing to take to work with him to hang on the wall.

1st entrant, if Sergiu lives through the terrorist attack on day 18. He thanks Player and mentions his aim is not as good as it used to be, and leaves. 

Female entrant (not 10000% sure on the number here) claims to have known Player’s father. Her paperwork is correct, I’m pretty sure.

Jorji returns with contraband. Jorji offers to give Player 10 credits if they let him through. Player is able to detain him. He makes a don’t do drugs kids comment if you deny/detain him. <3 What a guy. I’m drawing hearts on him with a sharpie.

Day 20, Imporians will be allowed entrance again. 

1st entrant, the MOA supervisor returns. He’ll yell at you if you don’t have the plaque he gave you on day 10 hanging up, or if you have other shit on your wall (e.g. the pennant, Son’s drawing). He will comment on the number of citations Player has received thus far. He will give a second plaque. He says someone named Shae Piersovska is coming through that day, and to let her in.

EZIC messenger returns and gives Player a note. An assassin named Khaled Istom will be coming from Antegria. They give Player a slip with a poison powder.

9th entrant is Khaled Istom. His paperwork is correct. Poisoning him will count towards ending 19 and immediately rules out ending 20. Denying him entry without killing him leads to a citation. Denying him after poisoning him will lead to several entrants in line collapsing and coughing up blood. Approving him after poisoning him will cause him to take a few steps before collapsing and coughing up blood, none of the guards are injured.

Day 21, Grant Of Asylum is introduced. Entrants with this grant do not need an entry permit or ID supplement. The day is cut short by a terrorist attack (from the Arstotzkan side this time!!!!) and one of the guards (NOT SERGIU) is killed (but Sergiu may still die if u miss lmao). Player’s sister has been arrested and her daughter needs a home. Player may adopt her for $40, which will also add $5 to food. If Danic is detained, the watch will be automatically sold for $10.

6th entrant is Danic Lorun. He is missing documents but says he will return in 3 days with correct papers. He offers a digital watch for Player to hold onto for collateral. Player can either give the watch back and deny him, or keep it and either approve or detain him. If Player detains him, the watch will automatically be sold at the end of the day. If approved, there will be an opportunity to sell the watch on days 22 and 23 for $10. He will return on day 23 for the watch. He will give 10 credits in exchange for the watch, but will demand the credits back because of a scratch. If detained, Player can keep the money. If given back, he will give a Republia pin. Wow such a long paragraph it’s bc I don’t want to come back and talk about him again.

Day 22, same as above. If adopted, Niece will give Player $100 from her mother’s savings.

1st entrant is Sergiu if he lives through the previous day’s attack. He reveals he was stationed in Kolechia for 5 years.

Jorji returns with contraband, even if detained on day 19. Interaction is the same as day 19.

4th entrant is Filipe Hasse. His paperwork is correct. He gives Player $10 as a bribe and asks for the pennant back. Player can either give it back or detain him. You need either the Arskickers pennant, the Son drawing, or Player’s Wife to live until day 29 to get ending 11.

Day 23, same as above. In the line, you can see a person with a red sprite. Day is cut short by a terrorist attack. Player may either use the gold key and shoot the terrorist or the silver key and shoot the man in red. If Player shoots him, they will reach an ending and either be sentenced to death or forced labor, and that night an EZIC messenger will slip a note under their cell door telling them that EZIC will go into hiding and their family escaped safely.

2nd entrant is EZIC messenger. They give a note with instructions to kill Khaled Istom, the man in red, and give a silver key. 

Day 24, confiscate all passports belonging to Arstotzkan citizens from Atlan district. Entry is permitted if no other rules are violated.

EZIC messenger will update on the situation if the man in red survives.

Jorji returns with correct paperwork and without contraband, but his face is on the wanted list. Player can detain him. Again.

Day 25, in addition to above, deny all entrants from United Federation.

1st entrant is Sergiu if he is still alive. He explains that a girl he met in Kolechia during the war, Elisa, is coming to Arstotzka. He misses her very much and asks Player to let her in. He leaves Player with a locket with a photo of Elisa. Inside the locket there’s a note, “To Sergiu from your Elisa. I love you always.” 

7th entrant is a depressed Kolechian. Player may give him the love note received from entrant 5 earlier that day (who gave it as bribery to Player as they had incorrect documentation. Very silly. Icon has a heart on the front. Reads “You are hot like fire. Object of desire. Wrap my heart in wire. Approve my visa.” With silly little doodles to go with each line.) In return, entrant 7 will give Player the Kolechia pin.

9th entrant is Shae Piersovska, mentioned by the MOA supervisor on day 20. Her paperwork is incorrect, but detaining her will lead to ending 12. Denying her will make the supervisor angry and approving her will lead to a citation. Overall no effect on gameplay.

Day 26, All entrants must carry an in-date vaccine certification (name, passport number, vaccines, date of vaccines), and United Fed. entrants are permitted entry with the certification. The day is cut short by a terrorist attack from both sides of the border, 2 from East Grestin and 1 from West Grestin.

3rd entrant is Elisa Katsenja, regardless of whether Sergiu is alive. Today is her 20th birthday btw (Dec. 18 1982) but it’s not explicitly brought up. It’s on her passport though. lmao. She is missing documentation but asks about Sergiu. She begs them to let her through because her family is gone and Sergiu is all she has left.

(splitting this up bc there’s a lot here sorry) If Sergiu is dead, Player will tell her that and Elisa will walk back to the West Grestin side of the border even if her passport is approved. 

If Sergiu is alive and Player approves her, she and Sergiu will have this really cute reunion animation. I don’t cry every time I think about it I promise (<lying) 

Player can choose whether or not to return the locket to Elisa, and she will not mention it regardless. If Player does not return it, Sergiu will return to take it the next day. If Elisa is approved and Sergiu survives the attack, Sergiu will be reassigned and Elisa will give Player 100 credits. Oh. Also. Player will still get a citation for approving her. The playthrough I’m watching denied Elisa so I’m sad a very normal amount. Btw her dialogue after getting denied is “I am denied? I understand. Please, tell Sergiu I will always love him. We will be together in another life.”

Day 27, Entry Permit and ID Supplement have been replaced by an Access Permit.

7th entrant is Kordon Kallo. Diplomat. If approved, Player may confiscate his passport to give to Kordon Kallo Impersonator to support EZIC. Regardless of confiscation, Impersonator will be entrant 9. If denied, Impersonator will not show.

Day 28, confiscate all Arstotzkan passports. Do not confiscate foreign passports. Day is cut short by a terrorist attack, one from the Arstotzkan side of the border. The MOI confiscated Player’s family’s passports.

Day 29, Government workers will be subjected to thorough information audit. Involvement with unauthorized groups is grounds for immediate arrest. Player’s audit is on December 24th (which would be day 32). Player’s Wife found an old family photo. Player can escape to Oberstan by themself.

1st entrant is the MOI guy again. Idk. He says nothing important.

Jorji returns and suggests to forge passports and flee to Oberstan with his family. To do this, Player must provide enough confiscated Oberstan passports for them and their family, along with $25 per person. Jorji gives Player his passport (you can’t refuse btw) (you get a citation for this regardless of whether you accept or deny him for unauthorized confiscation) and he asks for his flyer back.

8th entrant is an unnamed man (labeled vengeful father). He gives Player a photo of his daughter, Julia, and explains that the man who killed her, Simon Wenz, will be passing through on day 30, and to confiscate his passport so he can kill him. If Player does, he will give player a United Federation pin and the next day on the news, the murderer was found dead in a “confusing mess” ^w^

Day 30, same as above

1st entrant is the MOA supervisor again. He comments on the citations but no more plaques.

3rd entrant Simon Wenz. He is on the wanted criminal list. Player can either detain him or confiscate his passport and let him through and help Vengeful Father.

Vengeful Father returns and Player can give him the confiscated passport, but must confiscate it again since it’s Arstotzkan and let him through. If not, he walks away.

Day 31, final day. MOA is considering closing the checkpoint soon. The day is cut short by a terrorist attack. A car drives in from East Grestin, killing 1 guard. There are two terrorists in total.

Jorji returns for the final time. He does not have any paperwork, but he thanks Player and gives them $40 and leaves.

Holy fuck okay that was long so sorry anyways the endings

Ending 1 - Player goes into debt.

Ending 2 - Everyone in Player’s family dies.

Ending 3 - On day 12, if Player gives the MOI person the EZIC cipher and decoder from days 8/9 and 10, Player is arrested for associating with suspicious groups. The MOI will perform an audit on Player’s recent activity

Ending 4 - Discrepancy with finances. On day 11 or 12, if either gift is accepted and Player does not allow the agent to enter on day 14, MOI will arrest Player at the beginning of the 5th day.

Ending 5 - If Player shoots a civilian during a terrorist attack with a sniper rifle.

Ending 6 - If Player shoots a civilian during a terrorist attack with a tranquilizer.

Ending 7 - If Player shoots a guard during a terrorist attack with a sniper rifle.

Ending 8 - If Player shoots a guard during a terrorist attack with a tranquilizer.

Ending 9 - If Player shoots the man in red with a sniper rifle while EZIC creates a diversion.

Ending 9 - If Player shoots the man in red with a tranquilizer while EZIC creates a diversion.

Ending 11 - There are items hanging on the wall other than the plaque when the MOA supervisor inspects the booth on both days 20 and 30.

Ending 12 - If player detains Shae Piersovska on day 25. Or, if player denies Shae Piersovska and got a warning for unauthorized wall hangings on day 20

Ending 13 - Player completed less than 4 EZIC tasks and only shoots the bottom attacker on day 31, letting the top attacker blow up the wall. The next day, Player is arrested for failing to defend the border.

Ending 14 - Player completed at least 4 of 5 EZIC tasks and on day 31, EZIC Messenger tells Player to hold their fire. Ending is triggered if Player fires anyway and the wall is intact. The ending is triggered the next day.

Ending 15 - Player completed at least 4 of 5 EZIC tasks and on day 31, EZIC Messenger tells Player to hold their fire. Ending is triggered if Player fires anyway and the wall is blown up. Ending triggers immediately. EZIC takes over and Player’s fate is unknown.

Ending 16 - Player escapes to Oberstan on his own or with only some of their family. The fate of the family left behind is unknown.

Ending 17 - Player completed 1-3 EZIC tasks and on day 31, the wall remains intact and Player does not escape to Oberstan. Player’s connection to EZIC is discovered and Player is put to death.

Ending 18 - Player escapes to Oberstan with all of their living family members.

Ending 19 - Player completes at least 4 of 5 EZIC tasks and holds their fire on day 31. EZIC gains power and makes Player an agent and moves their family to a better apartment.

Ending 20 - Player does not trigger any of the endings until day 31. Player completes 0 EZIC tasks. Player remains aligned with Arstotzka and returns to the East Grestin Checkpoint when it reopens on January 1st.

Anyways. I hold up blorbos from my game to you. And I squish them

Jorji is such a guy to me… like, first of all, he’s always so polite to Player? And near the end of the game, he greets Player like an old friend (and Player greets him by name, no longer even asking him for his papers lmao). If the date on his passport is correct, he’s either 43 or 53, born in 1933 or 1932. He keeps coming back!!!!!! Even if you detain him every single interaction. And he’s so !!!!!!!!!!!!! So nice to Player even when he’s getting detained. Such a guy. What a guy. And he just fully gives Player his passport on day 29? Like what the fuck. Like this is the guy that came in on day 4 with a HAND DRAWN PASSPORT like look at this

What a guy.

And I’m sooooooooooooo so so so normal about Sergiu and Elisa. Maybe because by the time you get to day 25, you’re already. What. 3.5 hours into the most monotonous shit? The colour scheme is like. That. So dull w the greys and blues and greens. And then you get a character that like. You’re heavily encouraged to like. And that character feels strong emotions??? Like wow. And w the background of everything???? I’m normal.

Oh also there was a short film made in 2018 on youtube and I’ve seen it like 8 million times (as one does) (because I am normal) [ Link ]

so what ive learned from this is i need to play the game

[pumpumdemsugah]

Learned that in the US if you owe child support ( different amounts for different states ) you can be denied a passport. This woman learned her husband had a child when the passport office explained to them both that his passport isn't coming because he owes child support and she said " what child?"

Also if they come into inherence or win the lottery, child support can be taken off of that so it really makes no sense not to do it.

I heard these stories of sickly men in the US marrying women so that women will be liable for his unpaid child support when he dies.

[kmp78]

Hehehe. Sure. ;)

"First of all: she has a green card or visa or whatever is needed for her to stay in the country. Just like VK did.

And second: having a kid BE BORN in the US specifically means the kid gets a US citizenship! That’s why (illegal) immigrants do it!!! 🤷🏼‍♀️"

Not at all! She has now working visa for maximum 5 years deliver by Myanmar consul probably and delivered by her mother agency. She must won a green card somehow (by green card lottery) but I truly doubt that she has one. Maybe? Maybe not. If she had one, she would be on the process of getting US citizenship now. And yet she is still holding her 'Asian' passport.

After that period of 5 years visa must be renew and she needs to apply again with new modeling job on her list and new portfolio. If she had only a few or none she will not get it. If she quit modeling there is no chance to get any working visa. Models are working as entertainers there.

And second, baby who was born at US is automaticaly an American. But her or his parent is NOT!!! And she could be send away to the country where she come from wirh her child. Especially when she has no money, no legal financial support or no legal visa to stay there. Child residential status is another story. If it was so easy like that all immigrant would be pregnant out there. And they would stay there safe. This is not so easy. America is a tricky country. You need a good layer to make it happen like that! Hahahahaha. Study topic better next time. Carefully! 😆😆😆

Illegal immigrants can stay only by >legal marriage< there. Not by giving a birth at US territory. It may give you some kind of a chance to stay there longer but with no rights as legal citizen. And child has nothing to do with that. American law is harsh. 

Do you know why Emma is married??? That's why! Because having a baby with her partner does not gurantee she could stay there and working legally as single mother from Australia but having a US baby with Tom. 

So keep your fantasy to yourself, K. 😎 

You have no idea how it works there. America is tough. Biurocracy at best. 

***

SUUUUURE EL needed to marry a millionaire to stay in the US. 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Run along now, you're starting to piss me off. 🤨

Don't send any more of your 25k word essays.