#his depression? thoughts of sinking himself? claiming that he didn't want any help yet attempted to push just a bit longer when supported?
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
bruhstation · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
of fucking course the best, most harrowing, most gut-wrenching tugs character only appeared in one episode (a bit of ramble in the tags)
#this is tugs#tugs boomer#tugs sunshine#boomshine#<---- evil sinister laughter#fortezza bigg city#senjart#I think he's neat. I also think a bottle of antidepressants could help with whatever hes going through#okay I'm gonna talk for a bit about boomer (mostly about his canon counterpart rather than solely his fbc version)#boomer's character struck a deep chord within me that when rewatching jinxed while sleep deprived I got so scared#his depression? thoughts of sinking himself? claiming that he didn't want any help yet attempted to push just a bit longer when supported?#putting his worth on how useful he is as a machine first? an individual with selfism second? thus deeming himself as a lost cause?#and despite his jaded sardonic demeanor he genuinely cares about others and puts their safety before his own?#like mannnnnn come ON no wonder I couldnt stop thinking about him#his struggles as a clinically depressed person is.... so real?#he says ''I don't want any help'' but he clearly does want AND need help. he goes along with TC and sunshine's hijinks of helping him#gradually went from ''whats the point I'm gonna jinx it anyways'' to ''Ive tried so hard I really have but I cannot. I never had a chance''#he even went ''okay but don't toot'' to TC before his final job! he's entertaining TC and sunshine's theory! he really does want help!#boomer's whole character screams “I want to live but I don't know how”#and man oh man I feel like s01e10 reached out of the screen and drove a stake through my heart#because it's so visceral. it's rang true with my personal experiences#it's so sad. it's probably because I'm sleep deprived but I want to take care of that poor orange thing so badly#boomer most likely thought his final job to tow the schooner will end badly as usual but with how he sounds way more upset when he failed-#-and how he even went ''I can't be bothered to argue anymore''. I have a feeling there's a tiny speck of hope inside him-#-that quickly died out the moment lightning struck and he got towed by the fire chief#and of course he's upset. hes tried so many times to find a way to get rid of the jinx but now? it's as if he's given false hope-#-and the thought of the jinx leaving is something akin to a fairytale. as long as he bears the name ''boomer'' and not ''captain harry''-#-he is doomed to this constant cycle of messing things up when its not his own fault and having other point their fingers at him#that is until he got refurbished into a houseboat (essay material for another day)#theyre never going to write another anthro vehicle character like this anymore . sad
159 notes · View notes
bandomgay · 6 years ago
Text
My brain to yours pt.1 b.u
Tw: blood,gore,self harm,violence,hallucinations,slight mention of an ed
Au: hey babes this is gonna be my 5th time trying to post this and i want death so bad...however if there is any confusing things or typos or things seem to quickly paced im sorry thats just my brain babey! Enjoy...i guess
Word count: 1,894
It all started when he was about 6 years old, he never spoke ever,not that he couldn't he just wouldn't, his parents were worried about his development,however nothing was ‘wrong', he had a quite developed thinking process for a child, but it wasn't a good one for his age nor was it a normal one,no child should be so terrified of talking to people and being thought lesser of as his voice shook violently while trying to say the easiest of sentences.
he understood people to early into his young life ,he got the memo that everything was too stupid and too hard to understand so he gave up . his mother took him back and forth to hospitals and child psychologists ,his mother scared for what was to come of him could this weirdness she didn't even have a name or diagnosis for develop into something more as he grew? She thought, would he be normal? Would he be like the other children who laughed and giggled at the littlest of things? Would he be happy like them? She had decided to push her concerns into the back of head deciding that maybe he was just awkward it's okay to not fit in hes a fucking 6 year old boy maybe it's not that deep.
he was now in the 3rd grade now and teachers became more and more loud and responsive with their problems, he thought maybe whatever bad stuff they had going on at home they just needed to vent threw aggressiveness and shaking hands and restless mornings,but however it was their screams he didn't care for, he looked them in the eye wondering what he had done wrong, however he didn't care enough to continually think about it, but he realized slowly that couldn't feel anything like the red faced teacher did, he’d envy the poor mannered teachers feelings if he could, just how they could get so angry and fed up with kids who were disgusting and vile and how he never felt that…... he never felt anything at all .Now he was in the 5th grade he had to repeat the 4th grade due to staggeringly low grades and his failed attempts at homework he never seemed to have remembered. Things were getting hard to remember, so hard to remember what the teacher had said in the classroom that seemed to fade away after he was picked up by his mom and the sheer silence of the drive home and his mothers sneaking looks into the mirror with furrowed eyebrows at her son who never told her how his day went.
In school it was just so easy just to drift off in the land of dark swirls and dark worlds filled with make believe that he couldn't separate from the real world that never seemed to go away and darkness he felt comfort in his head till he heard nothing but the disgusting laugh of a teacher who had looked as if she wanted to deck him in the face ( he imagined about 3 different scenarios of how that actually could have occured, he held back a giggle and a sly smirk) as she snapped her wrinkled hands in his face “earth to brendon” he heard the aged feminine voice laced with anger repeat twice but he had failed to tune into the first reminder he was too dissociated to notice, he came too but didn't understand her reasonings of not just leaving him alone and let him rot and break free and he soon heard the fits of laughter coming from children he knew he was too weak to stop.
he wanted to do terrible things to everyone in that very room including himself, a dark desire he couldn't contain from his mind but he never followed through with these type of thoughts. he could never seemed control them he thought of them like messages being sent from an unknown source in the back of his head that had an invisible connection to someone he could see but nobody else could he dared himself if he could just pull at the cord in his head he wouldn't have those those thoughts, the figure never showed up in the same form it could be the shadows of dirty rain water coming from outside showing like a projection on the dingy beat up wall rising above him to claim a mental dominance , or the rotten stain of mold on the bathroom floor that now seemed to have a charming glow yet secretive smile or the bag of dirty clothes that sat high up on its rounded edges now smiled at him and watched him threw the night .
now it was the 7th grade and things had went to shit,it was already shit but it had gotten no better, fits of depression had left him wanting to call a hitman on himself and letting himself be cut open so all the organs in his body to be shot out of him or rip his jaw and everything behind it out of his body but he was too fatigued to think about it anymore his brain seemed to have stopped working back in the 6th grade, he could never think clearly a heavy fog on his brain he could never do much for himself he found the most simple of things he couldn't do, he couldn't pay attention, he felt dizzy at random times becoming feverish and not thinking about why because he couldn't think he thought process lessen and lessened with every passing day until all there were was thoughts of gore and death,sadness and the never ending thought of killing anyone or anything that had managed to make him want death even more.
he just continued to fade in and out of reality staring into the wall for to long or unknowingly staring at the couple of people who he thought was calling him pathetic and worthless with the contradictory voice telling him he's so much better than the disgusting people he saw and that they didn't deserve to smile they don't deserve happiness even though they’d never even spoken a word to him, they were never mean to him. he started pinching,stabbing,pulling at his hair,clawing at himself hard trying to see if he could care that he'd just hurt himself he continued to hurt himself hoping somewhere in the back of his mind he start to feel things, to show him he's real everyone sees him, but his inner self knew what he was doing he wasn't just trying to see if he was a real person he was punishing himself because he couldn't do what the rest of the real kids could do he couldnt plop himeself in a hard metal chair and take a test without thinking about what a disgusting person he was, without hearing them say he wasn't shit that his brain is mush that he couldn't understand the easy directions how he could get so angry and mad without hesitation how he could imagine killing his parents im cold blood… he stomped on his own foot,why is he thinking about this why is he thinking about this why, they creeped back up on him showing him images of his brother and sisters dead and gutted his parents choking on blood and vomit pale and dying, he hated himself for thinking these things,but if it was possible for him to be completely honest with himself he didn't care if they had died or not he just didn't have the ability to care.
He couldn't look people in the face without seeing these images of grewling faces pushed together in piles of pink and red flesh crawling into each others organs which looked rotten and distorted, why was he seeing this things these disgusting things these things… he wouldn't admit to himself that everytime he looked in the mirror he tried not to vomit he tried to hard, he bashed in the mirror bloodlying his hand, his hiss echoing in the empty bathroom he couldn't go to the nurse he couldn't look her in the eye and see her like that, besides he was on the first floor and he was too weak to go all the way to the fourth floor he knew he would pass out, he felt something pooling in his stomach it was anxiety he felt the cramping in his stomach and the salivating in his dry mouth, he vomited into the sink, he hasn't eaten anything in about 3 weeks so the pain of dry heaving for almost half in hour into the sink made him dizzy and ultimately pass out. he had now awoken to bright lights that made him nauseous and whimper, he was in the hospital again. he tried so hard not look the nurses and doctors in the eye and seeing horrific images in his mind of them dead, rotten maggot filled and bloody be he regained his ability to see the normally after a while.
“Brendon honey…” his mommy's voice was there “mommy...hi mommy” he said in a broken whisper. She had realized he never calls her mommy unless something's wrong he wasn't aware that he was, he turned to the right finding an iv carefully placed into in scarily pale arm “honey...they found you in the bathroom your hand was cut up...you where passed out what...t?” she silenced herself for a moment seconds later starting up again. “They found you in the bathroom..the mirror was broken and your hand was cut pretty deep and passed out” he mouth trembled a bit, she moved his sweaty bangs out of his forehead, he felt wetness on his skin his own uniform shirt clinging to his skin he was sweating.
He didn't feel real he didn't respond properly to what she had said he only looked away.. And said “dizzy….everything hurts…” he was so surprised he felt something but if feeling was like this he didn't want it. “I d..don't wanna feel like this..can you make it stop mommy please?!” Nani was absolutely terrified she'd never been so scared for her little boy, “its gonna be okay,sweetie...i swear..to god i swear…” in this moment if she was honest she didn't believe there was a god, no god would do this to her son, she turned around after hearing the door and hard footsteps.
“Hello ms. Urie im dr. Yakima, i will be assisting and diagnosing your son” she nodded softly wanting her son to be okay. “Hey son,open your eyes for me,i'm here to help” brendon heard a much more distorted version of what the doctor had said than nani did, but then again he was fading in and out. He handed her pills and said firmly “these are anti-nausea and pain killers i'm gonna give these to him and he will feel much much better i promise..” He was right it with his cocked up eyebrow and charming smile that sparkled with calmness and reassurance that worked its way into nani. the medication  worked but not instantly. “Sit up honey..” She said softly, he followed what she said slowly with a wrecked groan and intense muscle pain however there was no rush.
Tumblr media
10 notes · View notes