#and aziraphale’s favorite color is yellow
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teetering-dinosaur · 1 year ago
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so like do we think crowley has made the connection between aziraphale’s favorite color being yellow and the color of his eyes or
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impala-in-gotham · 3 months ago
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I've seen a lot of people before commenting on how Crowley can change everything about his appearance but he can't change his eyes.
I dunno if this is canon, but back when I was reading the Colour of Magic there's a part where they explain that deities, no matter how powerful they are, can't change the nature of their eyes. I dunno if that's something Pratchett passed on to Crowley, but I like to think it's his doing. 💛
(if it is confirmed, cool)
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alexydrawingsy · 1 year ago
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Some quick cowgirl aziracrow for yall while I work on a project
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the crazy part is aziraphale and crowley do find each other truly beautiful but never say it
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Okay but what about the fact that Aziraphale’s favorite color is yellow because that’s the color of Crowley’s eyes?!?!?!!!!! The color of his beloved bookshop that is a physical extension of himself is yellow because that’s the color of the love of his life’s eyes!! That’s just so pure my heart wants to flutter out of my chest until I remember that he’s left his beloved yellow bookshop.
Aziraphale is the most character ever. He ran out of ideas so he declared war on hell. He canonically says fuck. His favourite colour is yellow. He’s literally an angel and can speak every language on earth but still isn’t fluent in french. He told his boyfriend to shoot him for his magic act and made him go through with it when their miracles weren’t working. He gave away his flaming sword and then lied about it for the next 6000 years. He has a bookshop that never sells books. No one’s doing it like him.
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nicostiel · 1 year ago
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Aziraphale's favorite color is yellow
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weaver-z · 1 year ago
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Hey, Aziraphale turned the Bentley yellow, right? All yellow. Bright yellow. Do you think yellow's his favorite color? Why do you think yellow is his favorite color :)
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azirafuck · 1 year ago
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am i gonna believe yellow's aziraphale favorite color just because it's the color of crowley's eyes? yes i am
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ennas-aesthetic · 1 year ago
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Crowley's favorite song is The Velvet Underground's Pale Blue Eyes. Aziraphale's favorite color is yellow because it's "pretty" and has painted the walls of his bookshop with it. Hmmm, I wonder why THAT is. What could POSSSIBLY influence those choices...
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They are so excruciatingly, devastatingly in love, they give me tooth aches.
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miss-americanbi · 1 year ago
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soul-crushing thought of the evening: what if aziraphale’s favorite color is yellow because that’s the color of crowley’s eyes
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laudaddysmitten · 2 months ago
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Yes, Aziraphale, it is very pretty.
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AZIRAPHALE YOU'RE NOT FUCKING SNEAKY WE ALL KNOW
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daily-good-omens-hcs · 3 months ago
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Crowley’s favorite color is a very specific shade of blue, and Aziraphale’s favorite is a very specific shade of yellow.
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nicolegmattos · 10 months ago
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Hey, I've just found your posts about Crowley and Aziraphale reacting to the show and book and I was wondering if you could do one of them reacting the the Tumblr posts? :)
Sure! I think this is starting to become its own series at this point lol (you’re all welcome to send your requests 🥰).
Crowley: Angel, have you heard of Tumblr?
Aziraphale: Hm… no. Why?
Crowley: *showing him his cellphone* Look at this.
Aziraphale: Wow. There are… plenty of those… drawings of us.
Crowley: (Shit, this is my blog) *rapidly switches to something else* Oh! Forget about these.
Aziraphale: But there are some cute ones as well. Look! This is you as an aardvark. And this is us as… ducks? Why are we ducks?
Crowley: I have no idea.
Aziraphale: What’s a fanfic?
Crowley: Don’t click on any link!
Aziraphale:
Crowley:
Aziraphale:
Crowley: It’s… virus.
Aziraphale: Ok… *scrolling* Seems like these people really like you.
Crowley: Jealous, Angel?
Aziraphale: *blushing* What? No!
Crowley: There are some posts about you as well… *shows him*
Aziraphale: *blushing harder* Oh, good Lord…
Crowley: And they call us Ineffable (ugh, why did it have to be this word?) Husbands.
Aziraphale: Husbands?
Crowley: Yeah.
Aziraphale:
Crowley:
Aziraphale: Crowley, we’re not married.
Crowley: (Yet) Don’t ask. *scrolling* Angel, what’s your favorite color?
Aziraphale: Why do you ask?
Crowley: Because here it says it’s yellow.
Aziraphale: I like yellow.
Crowley: It also says it’s because of my eyes.
Aziraphale: Hm.
Crowley: So… is it?
Aziraphale: What?
Crowley: Because of my eyes.
Aziraphale: *blushing* I think they’re pretty.
Crowley: Aha! So you did learn the Gavotte so you could kiss me.
Aziraphale: What? What this has to do with…? Crowley, come back! How did you find out about the Gavotte? You were asleep that entire century!
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caninesfangs · 6 months ago
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The fact that yellow (the SPECIFIC yellow of Crowley's eyes) is Aziraphale's favorite color hurts my heart and I love it at the same time
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suavissimapenna · 1 year ago
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Wait until y’all notice that all the walls in the back rooms of the bookshop are also this exact same shade of yellow
Im casually losing my mind again aziraphale changed the Bentley to yellow and said it was pretty… CROWLEYS EYES ARE THE SAME GOD DAMN SHADE OF YELLOW AS THE BENTLEY SOMEBODY SEDATE ME
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mimisempai · 7 months ago
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I'll find you at the end of the road - Chap 3/8
Chapter summary
Through the mysterious mailbox, Crowley and Aziraphale get to know each other and their bond grows stronger...
On Ao3
Rating G -  3764 words
Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5 - Chap 6 - Chap 7 - Last chapter
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April 15, 2024 - 7:00 a.m.
Crowley, his heart beating a little faster than usual, approached the mailbox from which the flag was raised.
He opened the flap and unfolded the note with slightly shaking fingers.
Thank you for this lovely gesture. I haven't stopped wearing it since I received it. But how did you know that tartan is one of my favorite things?
You tell me that this connection with me allows you to open up to others and not feel alone, and you ask me if I want to continue this correspondence?
I don't want to stop either! I feel the benefits in my life as much as you do.
I don't know if we'll ever meet, but I want to keep getting to know you and for you to get to know me.
Let me know what you like, what you don't like, what makes you tick, whatever you feel like writing.
Sincerely.
Aziraphale.
Crowley, not realizing he was holding his breath, let out a sigh of relief, tucked the letter in his pocket, and left. He had to get to work before he could write. It was no longer a matter of writing a short note; he wanted to take the time to think before he could answer Aziraphale.
As he walked through the school gates a few hours later, even though he loved his job, for once he couldn't wait for the day to be over.
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April 17, 2022
Aziraphale was reading Crowley's latest letter, a steaming cup of tea beside him, sitting in what had become his special Crowley corner, the armchair in front of the bay window.
As for the tartan, I was really acting on a hunch, I saw this scarf and thought you'd like it.
A little more about me: 
I became an astronomy teacher because I've always loved the stars and planets. I lived in a country village as a child and was fascinated by the night sky.
My favorite color is red, although I pretty much only wear black.
My favorite spirit is Talisker and I love spicy food.
Queen is the best band! (I won't accept any arguments to the contrary).
My favorite book is Persuasion by Jane Austen.
I love to drive my old Bentley. 
I'm afraid of fire.
I can't stand cruelty, condescension, and lying, especially people who lie to themselves.
And I hate people who feed bread to ducks (it's not good for them).
I love the lake house.
Aziraphale laughed slightly at the humorous tone of the letter, then finished his tea before fetching his notepad to begin writing his reply.
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April 19, 2024
Crowley, sitting cross-legged on his sofa, Harry curled up in a ball on his lap, read the latest letter from Aziraphale.
I love old things, especially old books. In my antique shop, the only thing I refuse to sell are old books. I prefer to keep them for myself.
I love restoring old furniture and objects to their former glory.
I also drive an old car, an old yellow Beetle from 1941.
My favorite book is Pride and Prejudice, but Persuasion is a close second.
I listen to my favorite classical music on an old gramophone, but I also have Queen records. (Which I listen to sometimes and I won't deny that they are the best band).
I like to draw, or rather make sketches that I never finish. 
My favorite drink is sherry and occasionally a good glass of French red wine from Bordeaux. I love sweets more than anything and especially French crêpes.
I also dislike lies, prejudices, and gratuitous meanness - well, just plain meanness.
I also like the lake house. A lot. A lot. (All the more, since it seems to be what made our connection possible.)
As for the ducks, what should I feed them if I see any on the lake? 
How did you come to live at the lake house? 
Crowley reread the letter, folded it, and placed it in the small metal box where he'd put the others before going to bed and thinking about what he'd answer the next day.
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April 21, 2022
It was a day of rest, and Aziraphale was still in his bathrobe when he left the house to see if there was any mail. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Crowley had already replied, if the little flag was to be believed. He refused to think about the fact that his heartbeat had quickened for that reason, attributing it to the fact that he'd been walking a little faster than usual.
He took the letter and read it over his breakfast, Harry munching on a lettuce leaf at his feet.
Frozen peas. The ducks love them and it's good for them. 
I rented the lake house after I graduated from university. I needed some space and peace.
It was the strangest place I'd ever seen. 
I couldn't imagine anyone building it. In fact, I couldn't imagine anyone building it and not living in it. I liked the way it seemed to float above the water. I liked the path that led to it. I don't know why, it has a strange, timeless charm.
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April 23, 2024
Crowley, during a break between classes, took Aziraphale's answer out of his pocket and read it again.
I now have a bag of frozen peas in my freezer. I'm ready for the ducks. 
Regarding the lake house, I so agree with you.
The fact that you have to walk so much to get to the front door, it's like you have to earn the right to enter the house. Every time I walk up the path, it's like I'm on a quest, and the prize is the right to enter.
I'm sorry, I must sound a little eccentric. 
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April 24, 2022
During his lunch break and throughout the day, Aziraphale read and reread the last words from Crowley.
Please don't apologize. Not to me for being who you are. 
You can be eccentric. You can be anything you want.
Aziraphale had always felt different, in both his personal and professional life choices, never accepted by his own family for who he was, so Crowley's words eased some of his inner struggles. 
He couldn't ignore the warm feeling in his chest at this affirmation from someone he'd never met.
There was someone in this world who accepted him for who he was.
You can be anything you want.
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A few weeks passed as Crowley and Aziraphale continued their strange correspondence. 
It was late spring now, and yet the wind was blowing strongly on this early morning in London as Crowley walked briskly to the academy. 
As he always did these days, he smiled at the thought of Aziraphale's latest letter, already thinking of what he would write back. 
His phone began to vibrate in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he reached for it to answer the call.
Seeing the name on the screen, he said in a cold voice, "Yes?" 
He held back a sigh of annoyance as he listened to his caller and then replied, "Look, this isn't easy for me either. You know... no, I'm not angry that you called. It's just that... I'm sorry, I have to go to work and I..."
He approached the school and didn't want to continue this conversation as more and more students entered.
After listening to the arguments on the other end of the line, he replied firmly, "I don't think that's a good idea. No, Furfur, I'm asking you not to come. Because we need more time... Especially if we want to stay friends. I just don't think we should... Look, I'm on my way to work, so we'll talk. Bye."
Crowley sighed again and shook his head as he walked out the large front door.
"Don't tell me you've lost your motivation already."
Crowley looked up and, meeting Mrs. Tracy's gaze, replied, the smile back on his lips, "Absolutely not."
"That's fortunate. Eric has the flu and we need someone to cover his classes while he's out. Since your resume says you majored in art, I was wondering if..."
"No problem! I'm happy to oblige. Just don't blame me for associating it with astronomy." 
"I'm already happy to have someone, I'm not going to be picky. You can check Eric's schedule with the assistant and then make arrangements. Thank you, Crowley, really. If it weren't for the exams, I wouldn't have asked you."
Crowley replied kindly, his expression open to show her he meant it sincerely, "No worries, really."
On the contrary, he was pleased to see that even though he was the last to arrive, he was trusted.
However, at the end of the week, when he came home with his arms full of groceries, he thought maybe he should have thought before saying yes, because he was literally exhausted. He hadn't realized how much time and energy it would take to do the work of two people.
Luckily, Eric was back at work by Monday. 
But despite his exhaustion, nothing could stop him from going looking for Aziraphale's letter, which must have been waiting for him at the lake house for days.
Less than two hours and a few speeding violations later, he parked in front of the mailbox in a cloud of dust, and a few seconds later, leaning against his car, he eagerly read the letter.
Hello, pen pal. 
It's been a while since you last wrote. 
I hope all is well.
Several words were crossed out before the letter continued in Aziraphale's elegant handwriting.
It's ridiculous, just a few words to write, and it makes me sound like a babbling teenager (if there's such a thing as sound when it comes to a letter).
Well, I'll write it: I MISS YOU
It was obvious that the last words had been written with determination, probably as much for the author as for the recipient.
Crowley felt a strange warmth in his chest. He, too, had missed the correspondence, more, he had missed Aziraphale's words, so he hurried to reply and put the letter in the box before heading home.
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Parking the car in front of the mailbox, Aziraphale decided to ignore the butterflies in his stomach when he saw the little flag raised.
He took the letter out of the box, and once he was home and Harry was fed, the antiquarian went to his favorite spot to read it.
It's been a tough week.
I've had to take a sick colleague's classes and have only had the strength to go to bed at night (and feed Harry, of course), and I feel like it's been a century since I've looked at the sky or seen a bloody tree. That's what I miss. The nature that surrounded me at the lake house.
It's not so bad when I'm busy. It's when I have a minute to breathe, to look around, that it seems really hard. 
I wonder what I'm doing here, alone, in this gray city. I miss the trees.
PS: I missed you too. A lot.
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June 15, 2022 - 7:00 pm 
Aziraphale left the house with a medium-sized tree and gardening tools in the trailer attached to the Beetle and headed for London.
June 15, 2022 - 8:55 p.m.
Arriving at Crowley's address, in front of the construction site he'd seen the other night with Muriel, Aziraphale parked the Beetle. He took out a shovel, put on the gardening gloves he had in his pocket, and after finding the ideal spot in front of the construction site where Crowley's future home would be, began digging a hole.  With the help of a rope and a lot of sweat, he managed to get the tree into the hole and covered its roots with the soil and potting soil he'd brought.
Half an hour later, at 9:30 p.m., he stood in front of his work with his hands on his hips and said quietly, "I hope this will work."
June 15, 2024 - 9:30 pm
Halfway between the school and his apartment, Crowley saw rain gathering in the sky and began to pick up his pace as he realized he didn't have an umbrella. Suddenly, a rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance, and as he ran almost the entire distance to his apartment, the rain began to fall.
Of course, he was completely soaked as he ran the last few meters to the front door of the building. He fumbled for his keys, dropped them, and grew increasingly frustrated as the rain poured down on him, when suddenly it stopped. 
Which surprised him because it seemed to be falling everywhere around him except on him.
He looked up.
Above him, the thick green branches of a young tree formed a canopy that swayed in the rain just above Crowley. That tree hadn't been there a second ago, but now it was sheltering him, and Crowley stared at it, mouth agape.
June 15, 2022 - 9:37 p.m.
Aziraphale smiles as he tosses the shovel into the Beetle's trailer before heading home.
June 15, 2024 - 9:37 pm
Crowley, overcome with emotion, smiled broadly and, knowing that only Aziraphale could be responsible for it, whispered to him, though the other man could not hear him, "Thank you, my friend."
Raindrops fell through the green branches, but Crowley didn't care as he danced with joy under the tree, his face turned skyward.
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2022 - A few days later
Muriel stood on the small path in front of the lake house and exclaimed, "Wow!"
Aziraphale motioned for them to follow him inside, and Muriel entered, still stunned by the house, before asking, "So this is where you've been hiding?"
Aziraphale smiled back, "Yes. Would you like some tea or something stronger?"
Muriel replied quietly as they looked around, "Tea is perfect."
Aziraphale took two cups from the cupboard, poured the tea and they sat down in the chairs in front of the bay window. 
They talked for a while about the new house, for Muriel, as usual, had a lot of questions and Aziraphale was happy to answer them.
Muriel finished their cup of tea, put it down, and with a more serious expression, they said quietly, "Aziraphale. I didn't just come here to escape my miserable existence in the city. I've come to talk to you about HH and to ask you to come back with us. We need you."
Aziraphale shook his head vigorously, "HH? Sorry, Muriel, but no."
His friend insisted, "But if you talk to her..."
"Forget it, Mother doesn't want me back. I don't want to come back. Everybody's happier now."
Muriel argued anyway, "What about your work? Your work was great. Even she admitted that. Look, I know it's hard, but if you put aside your problems with her..."
"I said forget it," Aziraphale replied, this time in a firm tone before softening, "I'm really sorry, Muriel. It's just that... I like it here. And I like my job at the shop."
Muriel replied gently with a slightly sheepish look, "At least I tried," then after a few seconds they asked with a mischievous twinkle in their eyes, "Are you seeing anyone?"
After a slight hesitation that didn't go unnoticed, Aziraphale shook his head.
"Why did you hesitate?"
"I didn't hesitate."
"Yes, you did."
Aziraphale said in a voice he knew was a little unconvincing, "I... I'm not committed to anyone, okay?"
"Okay," Muriel replied, smiling amusedly before continuing, "I'm just saying you might want to think about the future."
Aziraphale laughed. 
He couldn't stop himself. 
Think about the future.
For God's sake, he was communicating with someone who lived two years in the future.
Muriel looked at him as if he'd gone mad, "What?"
Aziraphale continued to laugh.
"What?"
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A few days later, with Crowley's letter open in the passenger seat of his Beetle, Aziraphale drove to Waterloo East Station, near Westminster School. 
He parked, picked up the letter, and got out, heading for the station entrance.
About the same time, two years ago, I lost something. 
At Waterloo East station.
I was taking the train home to my parents and left it on the platform. See if you can find it for me. I won't tell you what it is. 
Then drop it in the mailbox. 
It's your mission if you decide to accept it.
The exact date and time is on the back of the letter.
Aziraphale couldn't resist a challenge, so he found himself searching for an object he knew nothing about. He wandered around the station, scanning the few people who were there. 
He looked for a single man and saw none. Only a few families and an elderly couple. 
He continued his search when suddenly, through the window overlooking the platform, he saw a man with short red hair get up and prepare to board the train.
Aziraphale's heart leapt, he wasn't sure if it was Crowley, but he had this deep intuition that it was, and if it was, oh my God, his pen pal was incredibly handsome. 
Aziraphale hurried through the door to the platform where he was standing and was about to approach him when he stopped abruptly.
The red-haired man was embracing another curly-haired man who had his back to Aziraphale. 
They kissed quickly and embraced again before parting.  
Neither of them noticed that Crowley, for it was undoubtedly Crowley, had left a book on the bench behind them. Aziraphale had seen it, but he didn't dare come any closer and decided to wait and watch, a slight twinge in his heart that he chose to ignore.
A voice over the loudspeaker announced the train's imminent departure.
Crowley gave the other man a sad smile before boarding the train, obviously reluctantly.
The one who appeared to be Crowley's lover didn't move and watched the train pull away until it was completely out of sight. He didn't notice the book. Aziraphale watched him go, and when he was far away, he approached the bench. He looked at the book that Crowley had left behind. It was a well-worn copy of Jane Austen's Persuasion. 
It had definitely been Crowley.
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Crowley impatiently made his way to the mailbox, thinking that Aziraphale might already have gone to the station. He was not deterred when he saw the small flag raised.
He opened it, disappointed not to see the book, but only a note. With just one question.
What are you doing on July 1st?
Crowley replied immediately on the same piece of paper, and just as he was about to leave, he heard the characteristic sound of a small flag being raised and returned to the mailbox and opened it. He grabbed the note and unfolded it.
C: I have no plans. Why do you ask?
A: If you remember, the village celebrates summer with fireworks on the lake. 
Would you like to watch them together? 
From the lake house. The fireworks on the lake are wonderful.
C: I know, I used to watch them from the house when I lived there. You're not asking me out, are you?
A: No, no. I just thought it would be nice to do the same thing, that's all.
C: The same, but two years apart.
A: It's better than staying home.
C: Okay. Let's go see the fireworks.
A: See you in 10 days. 
July 1st at 10 p.m. in front of the mailbox.
Aziraphale didn't wait for an answer and walked happily back into the house. Even though he'd denied it, it still felt like a date of sorts. Perhaps Crowley would agree to tell him more about his mysterious companion. 
July 1, 2022/2024 - 10 p.m.
Two years apart, in the same spot, Crowley and Aziraphale sat next to the mailbox. Aziraphale brought one of the chairs from the garden and Crowley brought an old folding camping seat from his car.
They were both armed with notepads and pencils.
The strange, timeless conversation resumed, still punctuated by the little flag going up and down.
C: Did you go to the train station? I never got my book. You're not going to keep it like all your old books, are you?
A: Let me keep it for a while. I want to read it. By the way, I've been meaning to ask you.
Who was the other man at the train station? Was he your boyfriend?
Why didn't you tell me about him?
The way the questions were asked gave Crowley the impression that Aziraphale was jealous, but he didn't want to get the wrong idea.
C: You don't talk to me about your love life either.
A: Because I don't have one. God, I can't believe you didn't tell me you were married.
C: I'm not married, you idiot. We split up when I moved to London.
I'm single now.
The fireworks have just started.
A: They've started here too.
I'm sure yours are better because they're supposed to get better every year. 
C: Probably. Let's enjoy the show.
Then, during the fireworks, the flag didn't move for a while. But the noise did not drown out the sound of their hearts beating in their ears.
Then, as the last bouquet ended and silence fell, the flag suddenly rose, startling Crowley.
A: At the station, when I saw you... I didn't expect... I mean, you didn't tell me you were gorgeous...
Crowley gasped, then blushed at the compliment. He looked around, embarrassed, even though he knew no one was there.
C: That's not fair. 
You've seen me, but I still don't know what you look like.
Aziraphale ran his hand over his face and figured that since it was the night of truth, he might as well go for it.
A: You're right. 
I would like to know what I'll look like in two years. Why don't we meet in the future and you can tell me what you think? 
Crowley thought, then looked at his watch; it was 10:43 p.m. He took a deep breath, suddenly excited and nervous, then wrote quickly.
C: Why don't you call me on July 1, 2024 at 10:45 p.m.?
Just as Crowley was about to raise the flag after dropping the note in the mailbox, the phone in his pocket began to vibrate, nearly knocking him out of his chair.
Heart pounding, without looking at it, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and picked it up, "Hello?"
_________
A damaged author can't write the next chapter... so don't hit me for this cliffhanger...
Still not beta'd
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here
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