Happiest of Holdays, stalkerbunny!
Title: Pink
Recipient: stalkerbunny
From: kindigo
Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley, and also a duck
Rating: G
Note: Okay, I? Am not a writer. But no matter how I stared at it, I couldn't squeeze "argument and discussion" into a standalone art piece. So I kind of maybe also wrote a few words. But the gift is the art, okay?! Because, I repeat, I am not a writer. stalkerbunny, happy holidays: a trivial argument about 20th century (fashion) history.
Pink
--
"Angel, you embarrass me," Crowley sighed.
"What?" said the angel, idly tossing breadcrumbs to the ducks.
Crowley made a small gesture that nevertheless managed to encompass the entirety of--of Aziraphale's newest sartorial offensive manoeuvre.
"What's wrong with it?" Aziraphale huffed.
"It's pink."
"And? I like pink."
"Barbie pink," Crowley clarified. "It's a girl's color."
Aziraphale paused at that, as if unsure what, exactly, Barbie was. "Pink is masculine," he asserted. That he was sure of.*
"Feminine," said the demon, leaning on the bridge's railing.
"Since when?"
"Since forever." Crowley didn't have anything to feed to the ducks, so he stole a hunk of bread from Aziraphale.
"I'll have you know I was wearing pink from the first," Aziraphale said. "It's one of the few things Michelangelo got right about that scene.** It's masculine."
"Well, now it's feminine," Crowley argued, deftly pilfering the entire loaf of bread.
"Since when?" repeated Aziraphale sulkily. Bereft of duck fodder, he tucked his hands in the pockets of his pink coat.
"Well," Crowley hedged. "Do you remember that Michaelmas in 1954 when we got spectacularly pissed?"
Aziraphale thought about it. "No," he decided.
Crowley thought about it too. "Right," he said, "neither do I."
"You had something to do with it, didn't you?" accused the angel suspiciously. "You lying snake. It's your fault pink is suddenly feminine, and you're retroactively making me look stupid. You gender-ised a whole color."
"I didn't," Crowley disagreed, entirely truthfully. The extent of his involvement had been to pour more drinks.
"I'm sure," Aziraphale said dryly. "Well, I don't see as I can't wear whatever color I like. I'm an angel, after all, and I've worn pink for ages. In fact, I'll make it masculine again, what do you think about that?"
"Do as you like," Crowley said, "only have a care for passers-by, will you, I'm ashamed to be seen with you."
"The ducks don't care, Crowely," said the angel.
___
* In fact, Aziraphale wasn't sure where that certainty came from. When he thought about his conversation with Crowley two weeks later, he found it ridiculous to assign genders to colors at all. The company he keeps, honestly.
** "The Fall of Man and the Expulsion from the Garden of Eden" by Michaelangelo. The first time Aziraphale visited the Sistine Chapel, he had a good laugh at Crowley's expense. Crowley wasn't nearly as amused.
Recipient: stalkerbunny
From: kindigo
Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley, and also a duck
Rating: G
Note: Okay, I? Am not a writer. But no matter how I stared at it, I couldn't squeeze "argument and discussion" into a standalone art piece. So I kind of maybe also wrote a few words. But the gift is the art, okay?! Because, I repeat, I am not a writer. stalkerbunny, happy holidays: a trivial argument about 20th century (fashion) history.
Pink
--
"Angel, you embarrass me," Crowley sighed.
"What?" said the angel, idly tossing breadcrumbs to the ducks.
Crowley made a small gesture that nevertheless managed to encompass the entirety of--of Aziraphale's newest sartorial offensive manoeuvre.
"What's wrong with it?" Aziraphale huffed.
"It's pink."
"And? I like pink."
"Barbie pink," Crowley clarified. "It's a girl's color."
Aziraphale paused at that, as if unsure what, exactly, Barbie was. "Pink is masculine," he asserted. That he was sure of.*
"Feminine," said the demon, leaning on the bridge's railing.
"Since when?"
"Since forever." Crowley didn't have anything to feed to the ducks, so he stole a hunk of bread from Aziraphale.
"I'll have you know I was wearing pink from the first," Aziraphale said. "It's one of the few things Michelangelo got right about that scene.** It's masculine."
"Well, now it's feminine," Crowley argued, deftly pilfering the entire loaf of bread.
"Since when?" repeated Aziraphale sulkily. Bereft of duck fodder, he tucked his hands in the pockets of his pink coat.
"Well," Crowley hedged. "Do you remember that Michaelmas in 1954 when we got spectacularly pissed?"
Aziraphale thought about it. "No," he decided.
Crowley thought about it too. "Right," he said, "neither do I."
"You had something to do with it, didn't you?" accused the angel suspiciously. "You lying snake. It's your fault pink is suddenly feminine, and you're retroactively making me look stupid. You gender-ised a whole color."
"I didn't," Crowley disagreed, entirely truthfully. The extent of his involvement had been to pour more drinks.
"I'm sure," Aziraphale said dryly. "Well, I don't see as I can't wear whatever color I like. I'm an angel, after all, and I've worn pink for ages. In fact, I'll make it masculine again, what do you think about that?"
"Do as you like," Crowley said, "only have a care for passers-by, will you, I'm ashamed to be seen with you."
"The ducks don't care, Crowely," said the angel.
___
* In fact, Aziraphale wasn't sure where that certainty came from. When he thought about his conversation with Crowley two weeks later, he found it ridiculous to assign genders to colors at all. The company he keeps, honestly.
** "The Fall of Man and the Expulsion from the Garden of Eden" by Michaelangelo. The first time Aziraphale visited the Sistine Chapel, he had a good laugh at Crowley's expense. Crowley wasn't nearly as amused.