the bentley plays taylor swift
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Summary
I forgive you.
Aziraphale watched as Crowley walked out the door. He'd seen the demon walk out of the bookshop a million times, always knowing that he'd walk right back in the same door tomorrow.
This time, the door closed with a stifling sense of irrevocability.
This time, Crowley wasn't just walking out of his bookshop.
This time, Crowley was walking out of his life.
I forgive you.
Foolish. Stupid. Cruel.
Those hadn't been the words sitting at the tip of his tongue. Far from it.
But it didn't matter. Those had been the words he spoke, and he couldn't take them back now.
~oOo~
Or, the one where Aziraphale realises he needs to ask Crowley's forgiveness this time. Meanwhile, Crowley is just trying to make the Bentley stop playing Taylor Swift. -
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Summary
A dramatic demon, a jealous supreme archangel, a scrivener-turned-bookseller angel, a witch with a PHd and a breadknife, a himbo Jesus, and a sentient car team up at a safe house in the South Downs to stop the world from ending (again). Covert communication, banter, romance, confessions, rebellions, theatrics, and shenanigans ensue.
“So it’s not normal for friends to wonder about their friend’s tongue after watching them eat oysters?” Crowley asked.
“I have never wondered about a friend’s tongue unless I wanted them to put it in me,” Anathema sighed.
“In a just-as-friends way or-”
“Agnes help me,” Anathema muttered like a curse. She pinched the bridge of her nose.
Crowley looked at her expectedly.
“He wants to fuck you,” Anathema finally said plainly.
“Right. Yeah. But like- in a just-as-friends way or-”