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Hi! This is about two of my characters. One has mental issues and the other has to help him most of the time. I love them so much and I hope to share more of them soon. Keep an eye open for an upcoming project I have with them!!
marcus has a breakdown haha L
okay go
A few moments ago, he was sitting at his desk, simply just finishing some overdue paperwork. All it took was something in his brain to snap and suddenly he found himself on the ground, his hands tightly wrapped around a leg of the desk.
His whole body trembled, ‘twas like an earthquake only he could feel. The only light was from the lamp on his desk; his useless, dimly-lit lamp that didn't reach the ground. The corners of his room were pitch-black, the shadows seeming to eat away at the walls, like a sentient creature. Even the furniture seemed to have invisible eyes on him, glaring at him with pure hatred. Marcus wanted to just shut his eyes and pretend nothing was happening, but he felt as if something terrible would occur if he let his guard down for even one second. Everything on this planet knows your sins. Everything in this world has its eyes on you. Watching you. Waiting. That nagging voice would come back with its nonsense again and again, never letting his thoughts breathe, warping his sense of self and deflecting anything that could save him from his spiral into delirium. He choked back a sob, knowing that's exactly what they would want to see. To push his little mind to its limits and break him from the inside-out. Why? Why? Why not? But he couldn't let them win.
“What do you want from me?” he heard himself ask.
Who are you talking to? Someone. Anyone. He didn't expect an answer, but perhaps it would work better as a cry for help? Asking that question took a lot out of him. Sweat ran down his pale face but was too afraid to move to wipe it away.
“Look, I can't do this anymore. Please…” he begs his invisible audience.
That's funny, he thought. He remembers hearing himself say that phrase many times before. Almost every day–for the past 10 years. So, why is he still dealing with this? Why is he entertaining these absurd thoughts of his? Conceivably, because he has to. Because to him, this is the truth; it's all real to him, because what other people say to the contrary has no relevance to his reality. He wishes he could call for help, to be reassured and told that, in fact, everything but these thoughts were real. But who could he trust? How can he know that his so-called loved ones weren't one of them? His head was starting to spin when unexpectedly—a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
Marcus was unsure what to do at that moment, he was stuck between hiding or not moving at all. The person knocks on the door again. A bad person is outside, waiting to snatch you away. Yes, that was probably it.
“Maaaarcuuuuss!” they called from outside.
What is it now? He unlatched his fingers from the wooden leg, its square shape leaving marks on his hands. With trembling legs, he stood up and quietly walked over to the door.
“Marcus, are you going to let me in?”
Absolutely not.
…
“If you don't open the door, I’m going to presume that you're dead and I’ll come in anyway.”
He grumbled in response.
“...Fine,” he answered.
He shakily turned the doorknob and opened the door just a crack. It was—or what his mind thought it was—his best friend.
“What?”
“May I come in?”
“...Why?”
He smiled. “So we can talk, silly.”
Marcus frowned at this. His friend frowned back.
“Alright, so it seems we do need to speak. Move it.”
Before Marcus could protest, the other boy shoved him aside and made his way into the room.
“It's quite gloomy in here. That can't be good for you.” he said, hand on his chin.
Marcus rolled his eyes and closed the door.
“Does it really matter?” He turned to face him. “Victor, things can't get any worse than they are now.”
Victor looked at him, eyes full of worry. [or something idk]
“Marcus, are you alright?”
“Uh, yeah. I think I’m fine.” he replied with slight irritation.
He didn't believe that for a second. Marcus’ sickly appearance and unsubtle wobbling betrayed the glare in his eyes.
“You can tell me anything, I won't judge.”
That isn't the issue here, he wanted to say. He didn't want to admit it, but–to him, at least–this person standing in front of him was fake. Every memory, every word spoken, every secret shared–all of it–was made up by them to trick Marcus into letting his guard down. Victor stood there with his head tilted to one side, waiting for a response.
“Why are you here?” was the response.
He thought that it was a little too well-timed how quickly he came over.
Victor gave a gentle smile. “I sensed something was amiss.”
It was the truth. He had a gut feeling that he should hurry to Marcus’ quarters, that his friend was in danger–of himself–but in danger nonetheless. Unfortunately for him, Marcus didn't buy it. No, that's crazy. It… was too well-choreographed. How did he manage to knock at his door at the perfect time? It couldn't have been a coincidence, he believed. Though, in the end, it really was.
“Yeah, of course you did.”
Victor was taken aback by this. What strange behavior, really!
“Hm? Do you not believe me? Why else would I be here?”
Marcus wanted to trust him. He wanted their memories together to be real. Everyone else could be fake, for all he cared. He just needed this one thing.
“...Can I be honest with you?”
As if this'll make any difference.
“Of course.”
“W-Well, look–it's nothing personal, but I just… my head is all weird right now. I feel, uh, ‘off,’” he sighed. “I don't know how to explain it.”
“Hm. I had a feeling.” he crossed his arms. “Listen, I know it's harder than it sounds, but you can't just keep things to yourself. It’ll eat at your brain and make you go insane–err, to put it simply.”
I know that.
“Yeah, I get it…”
“Ah, well… What do you mean by ‘off’?”
“Okay, this is going to sound totally insane… but it feels like, well, I'm alone in the world. Like I was put here by–I dunno, scientists or something, and everyone is either a reactor or an actor.” he laughed nervously. “I-If that makes any sense…”
Victor looked off to a wall, thinking. “I think I get it. That doesn't sound very fun, haha.”
“Ah, yeah, it's not. It’s like… I’m on stage all the time.” He gave a small grin. “People watching you 24/7, it would scare you pretty badly too, right?” It was a rhetorical question he would prefer to have been answered.
Marcus nervously laughed when he felt his throat close up and his eyes burn. Has the air always been this dry? His stomach turned and tears poured down his face faster than he could wipe them all. Now he was hoping that Victor wasn't real and in front of him at this very moment.
“Marcus…”
The blond stumbled into his chair and cried into his hands, blubbering apologies. It was hard to make out what he was saying exactly–but he seemed to be apologizing for the simple fact of expressing emotion in front of him.
“Please don't apologize, it's alright.” he said in a hushed tone.
Victor was afraid of getting too close, not knowing if it would make him uncomfortable or even startled. He had to restrain himself from immediately enveloping him into a tight hug.
“Is… Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I don't– I don't know.” he replied in the midst of his sobbing.
This was hard to watch. He's never seen his friend cry so desperately. It hurt not knowing the perfect way to respond. A few seconds more and ah, screw it. Victor walked over and placed a hand on his cheek. The coldness of his hand brought a shock to Marcus and he looked up at Victor with an expression equal to that of a deer in headlights.
“Sorry, are my hands cold?”
They are. They always are, but he never minded. He wished he would stop crying and think of something to lighten the mood. It's not even that big of a deal, really, he thought. Why does this have to be so embarrassing?
“I-I didn't mean to cry… I just don't know what to do.”
Marcus felt like he was speaking to someone that was so far from him. Reality had been shattered and he could barely look at his own best friend.
“Hey, now. Never apologize for crying.”
The other just sniffled in response.
“You… Do you need to feel more grounded?”
“...I guess.”
“Listen, there's this thing that works for me, but-” Victor started, a light blush forming on his face. “If you’d like, I could lay on you?”
The blond’s head shot up and his eyes silently studied his friend’s face. It was too quiet now. The curly-haired boy wished he could take back that question.
“It was a stupid question, I apologize.”
“Alright.”
They both paused for a beat.
“Whuh?” said Victor.
“Let's, um, do it.”
Victor stammered before finding the right words.
“Ah, only if it’s alright with you.”
“...Yeah.”
Victor grinned at him endearingly before patting him on the head. He hasn’t had a chance to use this technique much, with most of the people around him not benefitting from such a thing, so he hoped from the bottom of his heart that this would help.
“Alright, Marcus. Shall we get you into bed?”
He nodded. They walked over to his bed and Marcus got in first, nervously. Victor gave a reassuring smile before laying down on top of him. It was comforting. They look into each other's eyes so longingly, so filled with repressed yearning.
“Are you alright?” Victor asked his friend.
Marcus smiled goofily and nodded.
“Yeah. This is fine!”
They stayed quiet for a few more moments. It was nice. Marcus loved Victor, he would kill, but more realistically, die for him. What an amazing feeling to be with the one you admire.
There was nothing but the sound of each other’s breaths and animals chittering outside. The lamp lit almost nothing, something Marcus was now grateful for so the other didn't see his stupid rose-colored face.
“Goodnight, my dear friend.”
Say something!
“Um, night. Victor.”
Marcus’ heart beat faster at the thought of them sleeping in the same bed, pressing their chests together. What a lucky, lucky moment.
Hi! This is about two of my characters. One has mental issues and the other has to help him most of the time. I love them so much and I hope to share more of them soon. Keep an eye open for an upcoming project I have with them!!
marcus has a breakdown haha L
okay go
A few moments ago, he was sitting at his desk, simply just finishing some overdue paperwork. All it took was something in his brain to snap and suddenly he found himself on the ground, his hands tightly wrapped around a leg of the desk.
His whole body trembled, ‘twas like an earthquake only he could feel. The only light was from the lamp on his desk; his useless, dimly-lit lamp that didn't reach the ground. The corners of his room were pitch-black, the shadows seeming to eat away at the walls, like a sentient creature. Even the furniture seemed to have invisible eyes on him, glaring at him with pure hatred. Marcus wanted to just shut his eyes and pretend nothing was happening, but he felt as if something terrible would occur if he let his guard down for even one second. Everything on this planet knows your sins. Everything in this world has its eyes on you. Watching you. Waiting. That nagging voice would come back with its nonsense again and again, never letting his thoughts breathe, warping his sense of self and deflecting anything that could save him from his spiral into delirium. He choked back a sob, knowing that's exactly what they would want to see. To push his little mind to its limits and break him from the inside-out. Why? Why? Why not? But he couldn't let them win.
“What do you want from me?” he heard himself ask.
Who are you talking to? Someone. Anyone. He didn't expect an answer, but perhaps it would work better as a cry for help? Asking that question took a lot out of him. Sweat ran down his pale face but was too afraid to move to wipe it away.
“Look, I can't do this anymore. Please…” he begs his invisible audience.
That's funny, he thought. He remembers hearing himself say that phrase many times before. Almost every day–for the past 10 years. So, why is he still dealing with this? Why is he entertaining these absurd thoughts of his? Conceivably, because he has to. Because to him, this is the truth; it's all real to him, because what other people say to the contrary has no relevance to his reality. He wishes he could call for help, to be reassured and told that, in fact, everything but these thoughts were real. But who could he trust? How can he know that his so-called loved ones weren't one of them? His head was starting to spin when unexpectedly—a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
Marcus was unsure what to do at that moment, he was stuck between hiding or not moving at all. The person knocks on the door again. A bad person is outside, waiting to snatch you away. Yes, that was probably it.
“Maaaarcuuuuss!” they called from outside.
What is it now? He unlatched his fingers from the wooden leg, its square shape leaving marks on his hands. With trembling legs, he stood up and quietly walked over to the door.
“Marcus, are you going to let me in?”
Absolutely not.
…
“If you don't open the door, I’m going to presume that you're dead and I’ll come in anyway.”
He grumbled in response.
“...Fine,” he answered.
He shakily turned the doorknob and opened the door just a crack. It was—or what his mind thought it was—his best friend.
“What?”
“May I come in?”
“...Why?”
He smiled. “So we can talk, silly.”
Marcus frowned at this. His friend frowned back.
“Alright, so it seems we do need to speak. Move it.”
Before Marcus could protest, the other boy shoved him aside and made his way into the room.
“It's quite gloomy in here. That can't be good for you.” he said, hand on his chin.
Marcus rolled his eyes and closed the door.
“Does it really matter?” He turned to face him. “Victor, things can't get any worse than they are now.”
Victor looked at him, eyes full of worry. [or something idk]
“Marcus, are you alright?”
“Uh, yeah. I think I’m fine.” he replied with slight irritation.
He didn't believe that for a second. Marcus’ sickly appearance and unsubtle wobbling betrayed the glare in his eyes.
“You can tell me anything, I won't judge.”
That isn't the issue here, he wanted to say. He didn't want to admit it, but–to him, at least–this person standing in front of him was fake. Every memory, every word spoken, every secret shared–all of it–was made up by them to trick Marcus into letting his guard down. Victor stood there with his head tilted to one side, waiting for a response.
“Why are you here?” was the response.
He thought that it was a little too well-timed how quickly he came over.
Victor gave a gentle smile. “I sensed something was amiss.”
It was the truth. He had a gut feeling that he should hurry to Marcus’ quarters, that his friend was in danger–of himself–but in danger nonetheless. Unfortunately for him, Marcus didn't buy it. No, that's crazy. It… was too well-choreographed. How did he manage to knock at his door at the perfect time? It couldn't have been a coincidence, he believed. Though, in the end, it really was.
“Yeah, of course you did.”
Victor was taken aback by this. What strange behavior, really!
“Hm? Do you not believe me? Why else would I be here?”
Marcus wanted to trust him. He wanted their memories together to be real. Everyone else could be fake, for all he cared. He just needed this one thing.
“...Can I be honest with you?”
As if this'll make any difference.
“Of course.”
“W-Well, look–it's nothing personal, but I just… my head is all weird right now. I feel, uh, ‘off,’” he sighed. “I don't know how to explain it.”
“Hm. I had a feeling.” he crossed his arms. “Listen, I know it's harder than it sounds, but you can't just keep things to yourself. It’ll eat at your brain and make you go insane–err, to put it simply.”
I know that.
“Yeah, I get it…”
“Ah, well… What do you mean by ‘off’?”
“Okay, this is going to sound totally insane… but it feels like, well, I'm alone in the world. Like I was put here by–I dunno, scientists or something, and everyone is either a reactor or an actor.” he laughed nervously. “I-If that makes any sense…”
Victor looked off to a wall, thinking. “I think I get it. That doesn't sound very fun, haha.”
“Ah, yeah, it's not. It’s like… I’m on stage all the time.” He gave a small grin. “People watching you 24/7, it would scare you pretty badly too, right?” It was a rhetorical question he would prefer to have been answered.
Marcus nervously laughed when he felt his throat close up and his eyes burn. Has the air always been this dry? His stomach turned and tears poured down his face faster than he could wipe them all. Now he was hoping that Victor wasn't real and in front of him at this very moment.
“Marcus…”
The blond stumbled into his chair and cried into his hands, blubbering apologies. It was hard to make out what he was saying exactly–but he seemed to be apologizing for the simple fact of expressing emotion in front of him.
“Please don't apologize, it's alright.” he said in a hushed tone.
Victor was afraid of getting too close, not knowing if it would make him uncomfortable or even startled. He had to restrain himself from immediately enveloping him into a tight hug.
“Is… Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I don't– I don't know.” he replied in the midst of his sobbing.
This was hard to watch. He's never seen his friend cry so desperately. It hurt not knowing the perfect way to respond. A few seconds more and ah, screw it. Victor walked over and placed a hand on his cheek. The coldness of his hand brought a shock to Marcus and he looked up at Victor with an expression equal to that of a deer in headlights.
“Sorry, are my hands cold?”
They are. They always are, but he never minded. He wished he would stop crying and think of something to lighten the mood. It's not even that big of a deal, really, he thought. Why does this have to be so embarrassing?
“I-I didn't mean to cry… I just don't know what to do.”
Marcus felt like he was speaking to someone that was so far from him. Reality had been shattered and he could barely look at his own best friend.
“Hey, now. Never apologize for crying.”
The other just sniffled in response.
“You… Do you need to feel more grounded?”
“...I guess.”
“Listen, there's this thing that works for me, but-” Victor started, a light blush forming on his face. “If you’d like, I could lay on you?”
The blond’s head shot up and his eyes silently studied his friend’s face. It was too quiet now. The curly-haired boy wished he could take back that question.
“It was a stupid question, I apologize.”
“Alright.”
They both paused for a beat.
“Whuh?” said Victor.
“Let's, um, do it.”
Victor stammered before finding the right words.
“Ah, only if it’s alright with you.”
“...Yeah.”
Victor grinned at him endearingly before patting him on the head. He hasn’t had a chance to use this technique much, with most of the people around him not benefitting from such a thing, so he hoped from the bottom of his heart that this would help.
“Alright, Marcus. Shall we get you into bed?”
He nodded. They walked over to his bed and Marcus got in first, nervously. Victor gave a reassuring smile before laying down on top of him. It was comforting. They look into each other's eyes so longingly, so filled with repressed yearning.
“Are you alright?” Victor asked his friend.
Marcus smiled goofily and nodded.
“Yeah. This is fine!”
They stayed quiet for a few more moments. It was nice. Marcus loved Victor, he would kill, but more realistically, die for him. What an amazing feeling to be with the one you admire.
There was nothing but the sound of each other’s breaths and animals chittering outside. The lamp lit almost nothing, something Marcus was now grateful for so the other didn't see his stupid rose-colored face.
“Goodnight, my dear friend.”
Say something!
“Um, night. Victor.”
Marcus’ heart beat faster at the thought of them sleeping in the same bed, pressing their chests together. What a lucky, lucky moment.
My name is Mohammed, and I’m 35 years old, working as a nurse in a hospital here in Gaza. My wife, Diana, is 27, and together we’re trying to give our two young daughters a safe, stable life in a place that knows so little of either.
Our journey began in December 2023. That was when the military ordered us to evacuate our home in Al-Nuseirat. With only minutes to decide, we grabbed what we could carry, took our little girls, and moved to Khan Yunis, hoping it would be safer.
But our time there was short. We were ordered to leave Khan Yunis, so we packed up again and moved to Rafah. For a moment, we let ourselves hope that this would be the end of our running, that maybe we could start to rebuild. But Rafah wasn't safe either. Another order came, and we had no choice but to return to Al-Nuseirat, despite the dangers.
Today, we're renting a small apartment in Al-Nuseirat. It barely fits us, but it's the only place we can go. We live every day in fear, wondering if the next evacuation order will come. Each move takes away a bit more of the stability we try so hard to create for our girls. Every time we’re forced to flee, it feels like we leave behind pieces of the life we’ve worked to build.
There’s little left to hold on to but each other, and the hope that maybe one day we’ll finally find safety.
✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #312 )✅️
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My name is Mohammed, and I’m 35 years old, working as a nurse… Mohammed Abu Tahoun needs your support for Hope Amidst War: Support Mohamed,
Out of these, I like eating tamales the most. Although, it hardly ever snows here. What's your favorite out of these and comment your personal favorites, if you'd like
Now that you're here, please share and donate to help a woman widowed by genocide and her 2 young children. They're spending this winter shivering in a tent, hearing the sounds of weapons, and praying that they're not next. The last donation to them was 2 days ago.
*I am Sama Hassouneh. I have a son named Arkan and a daughter named Noor. The two are … sama mohammed needs your support for Help Sama's Fam
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Waka is such a funny fucking character. He's french. He's from the moon. He has a lightsaber named pillow talk. He tells you not to say orochi's name out loud and then proceeds to say it like 5 times
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
making art is just like showering………can’t get up and do it, can’t stop when you’ve started. you want to crawl out of your skin if you don’t do it often enough. everything in the world is the exact same
cam-does-stuff @sha-cam-things - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
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