#Barty has piercings

[wingsmadeforflying]

Guys I'm beyond close to drawing Rosekiller. The only thing really stopping me is my tablet is packed- I could draw without it but I also. Need to finish packing-

I'm steadily becoming more obsessed with the Absolute Freaks.

Side Note: I find the one post mentioning how Rosekiller was just waiting. For Reg to make their relationship into a trio then James Fucking Potter so fucking funny still and I think about it daily. Thank you whoever posted that.

[otrtbs]

okay n also james potter was robbed of being a girl dad and i just know he took his daughter to get her ears pierced as a baby (bc he wants his baby to be pierced up and rad as fuck) but then he starts crying when his daughter starts crying

[y0url0verb0y]

We all know Barty has a million tattoos dedicated to Evan, and a good amount of them are Roses. So people are always like,

"You must really love roses"

and Barty's over here (referring to Evan as his rose) like,

"You have no idea"

[morsmortish]

the thing about my barty is that he is objectively such a fucking loser. like, in modern aus, he plays dungeons and dragons. he collects yugioh cards. he goes to comic-cons. he corrects your grammar mid-sentence. he’s practically the epitome of the “loser” kid stereotype.

and yet…he makes it work. he’s so unashamedly lame that it’s almost endearing. he’s on the outskirts of those big popular groups, but not because they don’t like him, but more because everyone’s sort of at a loss at how the hell to interact with him.

he will happily talk about him and his hobbies to anyone, and no matter how ‘weird’ or unconventional they objectively are, he speaks so unabashedly and so animatedly that you can’t help but nod along. and then he skips off and you sit down and wonder how this fucker managed to make magic: the gathering sound cool.

[moonlightonmyscars]

barty crouch jr runs off of pure caffeine and spite

he downs 6 cans of mountain dew a day while simultaneously finding ways to get under his father’s skin

[bloodbruise]

barty who pierces regulus back dimples

this made me so horny i got lightheaded and almost passed out.

piercer barty with and his eyebrow and snakebites and one nostril and septum done. his ears are covered too. god he probably had a smiley for a while before switching to the snakebites cause they suck but evan thought it was hot so he did it anyway.

and regulus. jesus christ. back dimple. piercings. nonnie i could kiss you on the mouth this is everything. like can u imagine him, pants low on his hips and his shirt just a little too short so a little sliver of his torso peeks out and you can see the piercings. omg.

[sweeterelease]

regulus only has tattoos or piercings in places they don't show. growing up with parents like his, it just comes with the job. his friends keep reminding him he's out of there for good, that he doesn't need to hide them anymore, but strangely, regulus likes the mystery of it all. people's faces when they find out about the septum barty did in 6th year or the pure shock when he takes his shirt off and bares the full back, it's always entertaining.

it's of course fun with partners too, most of the time they don't expect it. james is no different. although regulus can admit he thought this moment would've come in a completely different setting. they haven't done much past kissing, not for lack of trying on regulus part, but sneaking around the castle has proven to be actually difficult when magic is such a time consuming art. he also supposes james is waiting, he'd said he wanted to take things slowly and regulus is not about to oppose to that, so they both wait. until now, apparently.

evan and pandora are about halfway through fusing about him and how to take care of his latest arm piece when james comes in looking for him. regulus —who had his back to the door— turns and goes to greet his boyfriend but just finds him staring at him rooted in place. barty laughs, picking up his things and gesturing for the other pair to go on a walk with me. regulus shifts, hyperconscious of the way his arm looks, raw and red and slightly swollen from the fresh ink. he wraps his arms around himself protectively, suddenly aware of the fact that he hasn't really talked about this with james before. so um, you like? brown eyes blinks rapidly, coming up from where they'd widened on his belly button jewelry.

his boyfriend drops whatever was held in his hands, scoffs, dives forward and— oh, james likes.

[noblehouseofgay]

Marauders characters going through TSA at the airport and every single one of them gets flagged

Regulus had knives on him (they didn't find them all and he got to keep some bc they were hidden so well)

Sirius had a fuck ton of jewelry and chains he didn't take off

James got unlucky and just got a random search, he was terrified the entire time bc he felt guilty even tho he had nothing to hide

Peter left shit in his pockets ("oops sorry my phone" *beep* "oops sorry forgot my keys too" *beep* "sorry-")

Remus had medical equipment that went off and he "looks too young to need it" so they didn't believe him

Barty has so many piercings that he's a metal detectors worst nightmare (he flirted with the poor tsa agent who patted him down)

Pandora got checked for chemicals bc the stuff she experiments with smells and the b0mb dog caught it

Lily overpacked her bag and it didn't fit through the machine at all so she was asked to separate it into multiple bins (she packs the shit everyone else definitely forgot)

Evan had medical tools that he uses to dissect things except he's not a doctor so it's very concerning to tsa

Marlene had an energy drink with her and got told to dump it or drink it so she downed the entire thing at 6 in the fucking morning (barty, Evan, james, and sirius were chanting "chug" while she did it)

Dorcas got checked because they thought her weighted pillow had drugs in it

Mary keeps stuff in the strap of her bra and in the rim of her socks and she got flagged for both

[my-castles-crumbling]

hot - @rosekillermicrofic - word count: 226 - slightly NSFW

"It is really hot in here?" Evan asked, wiping at the perspiration on his forehead. "It has to be..."

It was the only explanation. The only reason for why he felt like he was melting.

"It's..." James Potter, who was sitting next to him, seemed to be in a similar state. Evan recognized the signs of dehydration immediately. He looked dizzy, his mouth open like it was dry, eyes wide. It was obvious he needed water.

Evan turned back to where Barty and Regulus stood, still readying themselves for the bar. Regulus, who wore a mesh crop top and leather pants, was busy painting his eyes with liner in the mirror, while Barty was smudging his own eyeliner next to him, his black-green hair mussed perfectly.

Oddly, Evan felt another wave of heat flash over his body as he stared. "Do we have the air conditioning on?" he asked loudly, blinking profusely. Why did the heat get worse every time he looked towards Barty? And fuck, his mouth was so dry.

Barty looked over to Evan and James and let out a chuckle. "Need some air, boys?" he asked raising an eyebrow and biting over the piercing on his lip, the one that Evan dreamed about.

It was then, as his blood rushed south, that Evan realized.

Air conditioning was not going to help his situation.

[otrtbs]

oh my god I see the vision it's like a movie I see it I see all of it like... even my bartylus brain rot is coming back and that's been dormant for a LONG time it's unrequited but I don't care it's there and it's ready I'm so obsessed with baseball player James already I need him

okay yes!!! like unrequited but like barty had regulus first (wildly toxic mindset ik but hear me out) and now he doesn’t know what to do bc him and regulus were so close they could’ve had EVERYTHING but regulus went and had his pretty little head turned by james fucking potter (who wouldn’t? man’s sweat glistening skin in the sunlight,,, arm muscles bulging w every swing of the bat,,, his stupid cocky little smile he does as he walks up to the plate,,, the whole town is falling over themselves for him I WANT THEM TO PLAY WALKUP SONGS WHEN THEY GO UP TO BAT (remus and peter are in charge of the music boombox)) and barty hates him so much he wants him dead and he’s seething and boiling over with a rage he’s never known like full on eye twitching at what’s happened bc it was barty who suggested they go watch a baseball game,, barty who introduced regulus to james ,, and now it’s all gone to pieces

[fictionalsimp09]

still – August 20th – @rosekillermicrofic – 190 words – CW: Needles

“Stay still, Barty,” Evan groans for the umpteenth time. 

“It's kinda hard when you've got a needle in my face,” he bites out. 

“You're the one who wanted your lip pierced.” 

“Just get on with it.” 

“Ready? One, two,” Evan pushes the needle into his lip and Barty grabs his arm, digging his nails in and breaking Evan's skin. 

“You're supposed to do it on three,” Barty pouts when he is done. 

“Well, you've got your piercing now.” Evan turns to face him, “You'd think someone with as many tattoos and piercings as you wouldn't be afraid of needles.” 

“I like the aesthetic.” 

Evan rolls his eyes and gives Barty his card. “Call me and you can buy me a drink to apologise for the bodily harm you caused me.” 

Barty scoffs, “I hardly drew blood. Besides, you're the one who stuck a needle in me,” but he takes the card and fully intends to call him. As much as he is embarrassed about how he reacted to the needle, he is not going to pass up a date with quite possibly the most attractive person he has ever seen. 

[deathnguts]

Barty crouch jr who’s a disowned trust fund baby who still gets a monthly allowance from his mommy and invests in tech stocks probably and lives in a huge ass apartment in a nice building but it’s literally not furnished at all and he never cleans it ever and he spends most of his time on high on his pc and he’s got the gamer sleeper bod with pierced nipples and belly button and the worlds sluttiest hip bones and happy trail under his stained sweat pants and the most dead eyes under his scraggly hair that’s in desperate need of a haircut he doesn’t feel like getting but he’s getting a new tat at least once a month and they’re usually from himself because he bought a tattoo gun online but doesn’t have a license to tattoo others and he literally only goes outside to club and drink and visit his mommy because what else is there to do and he doesn’t even try to make friends or start relationships because he doesn’t care about people and why should he why does it matter and he’s literally just the most burnt out loser you ever did see but he gets away with literally everything because he’s rich and pretty

Evan Rosier who’s just another middle child in a pond of siblings to parents who have never tried to look at him so they don’t notice at all when he leaves with a shit load of their money and never comes back and they’d give him more if he asked to keep him out of the house but he would rather die than do that so he immediately gets into the shitty office pencil pushing Patrick Bateman type shit that his father and oldest brothers did but in a business that wasn’t just handed to him so he can feel like he’s made his money and therefore his life himself and he lives the rest of his life that way with a grind set around hours spent in the gym and specialized diets and crisp tasteful fashion and very demure stoic presentation of himself to the world and actively cuts himself off from everyone around him because of the mindset he gave himself through this life style that everyone is below him and waisting his time so he literally doesn’t have friends or family and barely says any words or feels anything everyday but no one can see that because he’s too far away to make out and too good at painting a picturesque image of himself for anyone to try because he’s rich and pretty

Regulus Black who has never lived for himself and isn’t starting now so he ignores the voice in his head reminding him he’s a boy and chokes it to sleep every night with his long hair and flowing dress skirts and tries to assert that by marrying the rich family friend that raised him more than his own parents (who barely even looked his way during his own wedding that they planned) right when he turns seventeen and locks himself away in the perfect white house his husband made for him and keeps trying to nail on the mask of being the perfect little wife but he just cant and goes stir crazy and obsessive and is a nightmare to be around during his rising amounts of emotional breakdowns and if it were a hundred years ago he’d probably get lobotomized but it’s not a hundred years ago so his husband (Rabastan if you couldn’t guess) tries to distract him by funding some pity studies and encouraging him to go to an old and privileged college for useless degrees he’s only getting so he’s too worn out to start fights at home but it works and keeps him civil and mostly empty and comfortable enough to continue to be a half dead powdered and pretty wife that can continue to float through life with literally no one in his life sticking around through his tantrums and bone deep issues except his husband who wants him to stay that way for convenience and everyone is h the outside looking in thinks he’s just perfect and mysterious because he’s rich and pretty

Literally just the unholy trinity in a modern, nonmagical setting as the worst versions of themselves in a context we know: closed off rich young people who are bubbling with hate but too depressed to really do anything about it and too rich and privileged to have to so they genuinely believe what they have must be good and not in need of change because they have it all right?

Anyway then one day they meet and they feel alive for the first time ever maybe and smooch and stuff woo modern rich pretty douchebag romance.

I just need something like that, soemthing that showcases their flaws and genuine awfulness without sugarcoating it but in turn shows how their love for one another genuinely brings out the best in them. Just like remembering that they’re messy bitches but their love trumps all like actually. And who cares, they look fantastic together and they have enough to own your entire bloodline, there is nothing you can do about anything they do.

[foursaints]

barty characterization is so troublesome because he is at his most canonical (and most compelling) when treated with utter seriousness & placed squarely in context of an austere, repressed upper class childhood leading to patricide… he is not goofy! his prevailing theme in canon is the violent denial of his bodily autonomy - the living body horror and tragedy of his stint under imperius!

so the fanon version of barty as a sleazy trash-talking fuckboy with a tongue piercing is…. uncanonical. there’s literally zero basis for his fandom treatment as hogwarts’s resident dirtbag and in fact it makes no sense… but it’s such an entertaining direction to take him that i would argue fanon’s reshaping made him more interesting? or has given us more opportunities?

like the fan decision to shove hp canon’s most tortured martyr-machiavel into a thrasher hoodie is objectively hilarious and ripe for exploration. basically my point is that true barty enjoyers can juggle both interpretations at once, explore the inherent contradictions, and decide which better suits their purposes for different scenarios. also i would like to see canon!barty and fanon!barty making out

[writtenicarus]

FAVORITE BARTY HCS????

• service top

• his hair is black and neon green. no sense of cohesion.

• piercings and tattoos everywhere.

• even when he's dating evan, he had regulus' name tattooed on his hip and due to the nature of what he wears (because he's a slut) it's always visible

• no manners. he's vile.

• possessive of his friends more than anything

• would kill and die for pandora

• has and will lick evan's dirty shoes clean

• did all his tattoos himself but let evan pierce him cause needles turn him on

• would chop off his left arm to sleep with james just once

[sommerregenjuniluft]

barty working at some run down convenience store and he has a thing for the pretty girl who comes in buying cigs even though she's underage

GASP llaaaaayyylllaaaaaaa !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

you always manage to. ugh. just. YES. fuck this is so them!!!!!!! you get them, you understand them. ily.

—

Barty is still leafing through his magazine a moment later when he smells the gust of lilies and citrus from the other side of the counter. He grins.

A bottle of cherry coke zero clanks down on the counter along with a smaller bottle of vodka. “And a packet of Reds.”

Barty’s grin widens. He doesn’t look up when he winces and says, “I’m gonna need to see some ID on that, sweetie.”

Nothing. Then, a crumpled bill and some coins are thrown down next to the beverages.

Barty tuts when he finally lets himself look up and into enticingly piercing green eyes. Lily’s hair is a mess today and while her gaze is bright as any day, there’s a shadow of exhaustion hanging underneath her lower lashes.

“C’mon, kid, just show me that stolen ID again and let me tell you how much prettier you are than that girl in the picture,” Barty purrs, watching as Lily’s eyes narrow. “For old times’ sake, baby.”

Lily frowns, “Just hand me the cigarettes and I’ll be on my way.”

“Oh, but see that’s exactly what I don’t want to happen,” he replies, propping his palms onto the counter, leaning his long torso over.

Lily sighs and she shuts her eyes and her lips thin into a line and for a moment Barty thinks he’s going to get that one rare noise again where she’s whining like the most pitiful, exhausted, sweetest little thing. The first time she’d pressed it through gritted teeth Barty was so stupid from arousal he’d slipped the cigarette package over the counter and gave her the opportunity to leave earlier than planned.

Right now Lily takes a firm breath instead. Bummer.

But Barty isn’t giving up just yet. “Y’know, you shouldn’t buy that anyways. Stuff’s bad for you.”

“And you shouldn’t browse through the Playboy on the clock,” Lily sneers.

Barty grins and ducks closer, “Why, you got something better to show me?”

Lily’ cheeks take on a lovely pink tint, her freckles flaming over her rosy skin. Sometimes she reminds Barty a little of a cute fawn.

Barty nods at the beverages on the counter, “You gonna take that to a friend?”

“No,” Lily replies, frowning. Like it would be the most irrational thing to pick up a friend and have a drink with them. She’s so cute Barty wants to eat her.

“Gonna drink that all by yourself, sweets?” he inquires, grinning.

Lily huffs, “That’s none of your business.”

Barty hums, “Let me tell you something.”

“No, thank you.”

“Why don’t I take my break now,” Barty goes on, undeterred, “and I’ll have one with you. And I’ll let you purchase the cigs. Even throw in a lighter for free ’cause you’re so easy on the eye.”

Something just shy of a whimper catches in Lily’s throat. “I just want the damn smokes,” she mutters at the ceiling. Barty thinks the pale skin of her neck would probably bruise so easily if she’d just let him.

“Brilliant, then it’s settled,” Barty concludes and sorts the money into the register before slamming it closed pointedly.

He grabs the smokes from behind him and picks out a lighter with a wolfish grin. He fishes for the keys and the ‘Be Right Back’ sign from under the counter and then ushers a grumbling Lily out the back door.

There’s an old, ratty plastic chair and Barty lets himself plop down into it with a sated sigh. Lily keeps standing in the bare space in front of him and glares, “What happened to the second chair?”

Barty shrugs, “Someone stole it.” Someone being Barty and yes, the chair fits in nicely with the rest of his balcony furniture, thanks for asking.

Lily’s mouth tightens, she opens her soda. “Well, how hospitable of you to offer me the seat then,” she snarks.

“Oh, you’re very welcome to sit,” Barty returns, purposefully widening his legs and bucking his hips. “You look exhausted, love, and I promise I’m very comfy.”

He watches Lily’s gaze harden again, the wall building up, higher, and she purses her lips. She looks like she’s one more remark away from kicking Barty out of the wobbly chair but then suddenly she moves forward. She stops right between Barty’s legs and honestly, he hadn’t hoped he’d get this far today so his brain operates a little slow. Eventually he manages lifting his hands and guiding Lily around and to sit square in his lap.

They’re so close suddenly, Lily’s hair is tickling Barty’s nose and she feels heavenly where she’s placed on top of him. Warm and soft. She smells so good and the crook of her neck is right there. Barty has to work hard to control himself when spit pools under his tongue.

Lily tugs at her sweater subconsciously. It’s a low v-neck and Barty’s in a perfect position to ogle down her cleavage. “Smokes?” Lily asks, a little impatiently.

Barty hums, licking the corner of his mouth and gnawing on his bottom lip as he unwraps the cigarettes blindly, still hungrily taking in the soft swell of Lily’s—

“Stop staring at my tits, perv.”

Barty looks up to see her glowering expression. He licks his lips again. Lily’s gaze flutters down for just a second.

When the plastic wrapper is off, Barty opens it and flicks against the bottom of the carton. He takes the one that shot out the farthest and holds it up between them. “For good luck,” he explains, “Smoke it right before your exam.” Barty doesn’t know what prompts his brain in that direction but he finds himself planting a kiss along the length of the cigarette. Then he holds it up to Lily’s lips as well. She kisses it dutifully, so good for him, right on the spot where Barty’s mouth just lingered seconds ago, none the wiser that this is not at all a step in choosing your lucky cigarette. Barty puts it back in between the others with the filter up.

He pulls out two others and first sticks one between his own and then Lily’s lips. The urge to press his fingers in deeper is there but Barty ignores it skillfully.

The lighter is procured, Barty takes Lily’s chin between his fingers to light their cigarettes at the same time and then their smoking and nursing their drinks in comfortable silence. Barty can feel Lily readjust and squirm for the duration of her first smoke but then his arm lifts off the armrest and around Lily to pull her closer. She shifts up with a quiet yelp but settles quickly after the fact, if with a warning glance when Barty’s hand stays high on the outside of her thigh.

Lily’s skirt is soft fabric today, some kind of cotton with a mesh cover on top and it’s airy and short. After the third consecutive smoke and half the empty vodka flask later Barty has three fingertips digging into the bare skin of Lily’s thigh without complaint and a semi in his jeans.

“Lily,” Barty rasps after another two smokes. The redhead is mildly slumping against Barty’s embrace, eyes lidded and looking like she’s not far from falling asleep right on top of him.

“Hm?” she makes, blowing out smoke.

“You’re not feeling too well with exam season coming up, huh?”

“No shit,” Lily responds.

Barty’s lips tug at the corners, “I know a way to make you feel good.”

For the first time in a while Lily tenses in his lap, eyes widening in alert. “No,” she says.

Barty rolls his eyes with a grin, “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I’m not having sex with you.”

Yet, Barty thinks. “That’s not what I was going to propose,” Barty corrects, smartly.

Lily raises her eyebrows in disbelief. God, she’s so hot when she isn’t taking Barty’s bullshit.

“I was gonna say kiss you.”

“No.”

“Just a little.”

“No.”

“Only the neck.”

Lily pauses. Bingo.

Barty lifts his unoccupied hand and moves her curls over her shoulder, exposing her throat to him. He lets his fingers flutter over her pulse point feather light. “Just gonna kiss your neck a bit and make you feel good.”

“Barty.”

“Gonna make you feel good, I promise,” he mumbles, gambling.

A sigh, then a barely there whisper, “Fine.”

Barty’s breath hitches and then he leans in and lets his tongue out flat to lick a long stripe up Lily’s pretty neck with a groan. He closes his lips around the skin and sucks hard enough to leave a mark, just behind her ear. Lily shudders in his lap and when Barty pants another breathy noise against her skin, he hears her moan quietly as well.

Lily tastes heavenly, like raspberry and lime, and clean and flowery. He licks and kisses and sucks and makes out with Lily’s neck, gripping her thigh so far up it’s nearly ass and getting increasingly harder the more she melts into him and the louder she gets.

Lastly Barty makes the mistakes of sucking too hard and pulling Lily from her trance so that she promptly extracts herself with a hiss. Her lips are bitten red and her eyes are wide and dewy as she stares at Barty in shock, cheeks flushed and Barty would literally sell all his organs to know what Lily is thinking right now.

Eventually she stutters her way through arguing why she has to leave now and Barty nods dutifully, still high off of the taste of Lily on his tongue, before helping her up and opening the door for her. Like a gentleman. As soon as her back is turned he cups and adjusts himself in his pants.

When they come back into the store there’s a small queue lined up outside and Barty smirks when he sees Lily blushing deeper.

Barty leans down to her ear from behind, “Well then, sweets, see you soon.” He presses the lighter into her palm and then steps past her to unlock the door for the costumers.

Lily responds something unintelligible under her breath and then rushes out after the people waiting have stepped inside.

On the sidewalk Lily turns and searches for Barty through the window. When their gazes lock she holds up the hand with the lighter and mouths, “Bambi?!”

Barty simply winks at her.

[major-toast]

Passenger

@rosekillermicrofic // May 14th - insane // words: 856 // minors dni

Speeding down the highway, the landscape is rushing past them, a nervous blur of the black night sky and bright neon signs. Evan’s eyes flick down to the dashboard of their trusty Dodge Challenger. And so do Barty’s.

140 miles per hour. 150. 200.

They’re fucking fast.

“Hit the gas, Rosie!” Barty laughs, turning in his seat to catch their trackers tailgating them. They’re fast too. But, considering Evan will turn off the car lights any second, plunging them into total darkness and vanishing the Challenger into the cool air of the night, they stand no chance. Barty’s grin takes up a new dimension of delight.

“Any faster, and I’ll lose track of the road signs”, Evan mumbles, taking one last sip of his soda can. 

Scrunching up the frail metal within his palm, he then throws the remains out of the open window, one hand safely secured to the wheel. For a moment, Barty hoped the can would hit the windshield of the SUV behind them, but to no avail. Disappointed, he clicks his tongue, focussing back on the road ahead.

“Fuck the road signs!” he says. “If one of the pigs wants to stop us now, I’ll show him how pretty his brain looks on the pavement. Didn’t bring those TEC-9s for nothing.”

Huffing, and with his arms crossed above his chest, he slumps back into the passenger seat, propping his feet up against the windshield.

It was supposed to be an easy job; in and out. No witnesses. A simple kidnapping with a shit-ton of ransom money as a reward. But, of course, it had to be a trap, a botched operation. If Riddle wanted to get rid of them so desperately, he should have done it himself, and not sent out a bunch of bloodhounds.

What an egomaniacal, deranged coward. Barty will be all too happy to greet him with the gun inside his pants. And this time, he doesn’t mean his cock.

Roll the windows down, this cool night air is curious. Let the whole world look in. Who cares who sees anything? I’m your passenger.

At the sound of the radio echoing back his own sentiment, the grin reappears. Usually, Barty listens to no one, but the moment couldn’t be more fitting.

“What- what are you doing?” Evan questions warily, his eyes fleetingly glancing over at him.

“Living” comes the simple reply.

Before the pretty blonde can do anything, Barty has rolled the windows down.

Without unbuckling his seatbelt – because why would he fasten it to begin with? – he climbs out halfway, nothing but his waist and legs keeping him inside the racing car. Feeling the harsh air whip through his hair and prick his nose and ears like a thousand tiny needles, an ecstatic cackle bubbles from his lips.

This. This is what it means to be alive, to breathe.

If only for a short moment.

“Get. In”, Evan grunts, pulling Barty back with one harsh tug on his blood-soaked shirt. “You maniac are getting us both killed!”

Almost as if to lend his words some weight, Evan swerves hard right, trying to avoid crashing into the slowing car before them. The tires screech deafeningly in protest and the centrifugal force shoves Barty back into the passenger’s side door. Left and right, empty beer cans and other trinkets are flying through the tiny space, and with one last bumpy correction of his course, Evan gets them back on track.

“Beautiful”, Barty breathes in admiration, his piercing eyes alighting with new fire and his hands shaking from excitement. “No one can drive like you can, Rosie.”

“Save your compliments until we’re fucking out of here, Crouch.”

He looks over to him, watches the wind dance inside his blonde locks. If they go crashing down, Barty will be glad to crash with him.

Here I lay, just like always. Don’t let me go. Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go. Take me to the edge.

“Do you trust me?” Barty murmurs into the warm space between them.

“Of course, I trust you”, Evan replies.

“Blindly?”

“Blindly.”

Without another word, Barty leans forward then. Gently, he wraps his hands around Evan’s face, covering his eyes. Freezing at first, the pretty blonde relaxes into the touch easily, his grip slackening on the wheel.

“The road is empty. There is no one in front of us”, Barty coos. “You got this, angel. Let me be your eyes-“

“-and I’ll be your wings”, Evan finishes, a small smile stretching over his lips at the familiar words. 

Confidently, he presses down on the gas pedal, increasing their speed once more. Filled with pride, Barty gently kisses his cheek.

“There is another sloth right in front of us. The right lane is empty. You have about 15 seconds.”

Shifting gears and slowing down without effort, Evan taps the wheel. Gracefully, they avoid yet another crash. Yes, no one can drive like his Rosie. No one knows the road like he does.

“You are one insane motherfucker”, Evan smiles as Barty lifts his hand again. He simply shrugs it off.

“As long as I am yours.”