ྀིྀི 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑*

𓏲ּ𝄢 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 ㅤㅤㅤ𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ㅤㅤㅤ *ᶜ͟ʳ͟ᵒ͟ˢ͟ˢ͟ᵉ͟ˢㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤall over ㅤ₊ ⊹ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝑚𝑦 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝑩𝑶𝑫𝒀 . . . .⋆♱

Sometimes, I’m so fascinated (and ashamedly enticed) by Benson’s violence and exploitation. His features and the way he walks and handles that rifle and grabs Randy by the scruff of his neck.

Other times, I’m encapsulated by Randy’s pathetic nature. The constant quivering of his lip, his 2-sizes-too-big uniform shirt and how deer-like he is.

when I first watched The Passenger last year, I started off mostly thinking about randy . i spent a great deal of time trying to pluck him apart, trying to figure out what my version of him is . thought a lot about the alligator , and how his face dimmed when he looked at benson , the scene where he talked about his trauma and those 3 seconds where his face went from lit up to squinted and angry .

to me , randy is a very complicated person . not outward, but inward , and i think that what benson saw as fixable might have just been the parts of him that are , inherently, violent , too .

he's angry . he's fucking pissed — at himself , and his ma , and probably everyone around him and he swallows it down and bottles it up and that is exactly why he turns himself into such a small flame , a flicker . he's a deer , alright, but he is just as much a canine .

benson, on the other hand , was very easy for me to grasp and latch onto . he's trauma as a person . he's violent and vile and over the top in the way he tries to shield himself from hurt . he's perverted without being outwardly sexual and he is such a sad , sad thing if you look at him under a microscope .

i'm not calling him easy . he isn't — i even think that most people tend to narrow him down into too much of a flat character because they are so busy focusing on just his violence and what is seen, not the gaps and what there is to fill in .

i didn't use to be a big fan of it either , but i've started realizing that there is something aesthetic or sensual in just about anything — and that most of the time the things what would make someone want to comfort randy are also usually the things benson would exploit . in whatever way that may be .

throwing up is such a private , intimate thing and for benson to not even give him the grace of keeping that to himself , wanting to see randy spill all he is out to him even if .. quite literally .. there's something romantic about it . knowing someone is to know every part of them , after all .

I want him so bad can I say that???? Am I allowed to say that?????

i think about them to almost every ethel song .. tongue , crying during sex, thoroughfare ( of course ). a long, unfortunate while is very randy to me , too .

and i , too, want him .

absoluttteeeely . .

'cause he thinks he's about to hear something that'll make him sick to his stomach all over again, that he'll have to accept that randy is more like him that he'd ever want him to be or admit he is .

there isn't enough talk about the burger scene and the possibilities of it .

after the shooting, the entire place smells like iron , the air is thick with the heat expelling from bodies . it's pressing — no air conditioner in sight , the grills already turned on to preheat, friers already making the oil gurgle .

randy feels sick from that already , but the taste of rot lingers in his mouth and clings to the backs of his teeth like a velvety, fuzzy blanket . no matter how often his tongue dances across the same spots, it always feels like there is something stuck there, still .

the sickness builds slow , and before he knows it — before Benson even gets to raise his hand to count up to ten — he can feel himself gagging, wretching . an instant burn at the back of his throat, a wash of acid , but nothing wants to come out .

when randy does move, it's not towards benson but rather the bathroom . he's stumbling like an ill deer , swaying on his feet , trembling hand with the crescent shaped marks of his nails clutched across his mouth .

benson understands the sickness , understands what randy just saw — but he's pumped up on adrenaline and the high of a predator so when randy seemingly runs , he follows. slots himself into that small employee's bathroom with him . watches him gag three , four times and get out nothing but spit and snot and salty tears . randy is white knuckling the toilet like his life depends on it, forehead shiny with sweat.

there is no hair to hold back, but benson fits his palm against that patch of skin and brushes back those mousy blond strands , tries to soothe him with the repetitive circling of his thumb .

after the tenth gag and nothing coming out, randy not moving but only whimpering like an abused thing , he finally cups him underneath his jaw . pries his mouth wide open with the other hand — feeling his teeth first, the wet wriggle of his tongue — before he plunges digits further inside . the boy writhes like an eel, claws those nails into his wrist and benson thinks the next thing he's gotta do is declaw him .

first, though . . he is pumping those fingers into his mouth in terribly slow strokes , pressing against the back of his throat until the wretching becomes more violent , full body ripples that make randy curl together and over the bowl .

good boy, good boy ,