Work Text:
Aziraphale sat reclining in his bookshop holding is mobile phone gingerly in his left hand as his right pointer finger pecked out a post into the app he had just discovered: Twitter.
Well, Crowley had told him about it. And so he wanted to see what it was about. If Crowley liked it, he’d probably also like it, right?
Aziraphale clicked the “plus” symbol in the blue circle and the app asked in soft grey letters, “What’s Happening?”.
What was happening? Aziraphale looked around him for something to type in. He was sitting near the large window in the bookshop. His finger tapped out his message, and the Biblophile333 posted his first message.
Joining Twitter, hoping you all have a #blessed day
Aziraphale did a happy little bobble in his chair as he watched a couple of hearts appear on his newly minted tweet. Then his phone dinged. A comment!
PothosPapa: Really phoning it in now are we?
“Oh how delightful,” Aziraphale thought, he must really be figuring this out! His pointer finger pecked out his reply and he hit post.
If you call this phoning, then I’m definitely phoning!
Less than a second later his phone dinged again as PothosPapa replied with a moving image. It was a snapshot from the movie Princess Bride and the character Inigo Montoya was saying “I do not think that means what you think it means”.
It took a second to navigate through the graphics interchange formats and find an appropriate response. It was a man holding up a thumbs up saying “Yes I do.” Aziraphale press send.
PothosPapa was quick to reply: You’ve learned to GIF, bravo!
Aziraphale grinned to himself. Crowley was going to be so proud of him when he told him later that he had learned how to Twitter.
Thank you!
The ding in his hand was almost immediate:
PothosPapa: That wasn’t meant as a compliment
Aziraphale frowned down at his phone. Maybe things were different on the internet, but he had been told that it was very similar to other human conversations. Did good things not mean good things still? He figured he’d just ask.
Then what was it meant as? I’m still learning this application
PothosPapa’s response glowed up at Aziraphale: Really? But you’ve been doing so well!
He sighed in relief. He hated being bad at things. Especially human things. It made him feel very much on his back foot. He typed out his reply with confidence: I have been doing well! Thank you! 🙂
Look at you, you’ve got the beginnings of a worthy internet troll PothosPapa replied
Aziraphale frowned again at his phone, this Twitter application truly was starting to feel nonsensical.
Troll? But I don’t live in a cave or any Scandinavian hills
There was a loud bang as Crowley burst through the front doors to the bookshop. Aziraphale jumped in his seat, surprised to suddenly see his dear friend striding rapidly toward him.
“I would be very proud of what you’re becoming if I wasn’t so annoyed by it,” Crowley said through gritted teeth as he ripped Aziraphale’s phone from his hands and chucked it at the wall. It bounced off the wall and dropped to the ground.
“But I haven’t done anything!” Aziraphale said surprised as he pushed himself up from his chair to go retrieve his phone. The screen was cracked but nothing a tiny little miracle couldn’t fix.
“I need you to get off Twitter,” Crowley insisted. “You’re very bad at it, and it’s annoying me.”
“How did you know that I was on Twitter?” Aziraphale asked after he watched the glass of his phone screen fuse back together.
“How did I–” Crowley looked over his sunglasses at Aziraphale. “PothosPapa? That’s me.”
Aziraphale’s eyes went wide, “That was you?”
Crowley nearly growled in frustration, “Of course it was me! You’re my only phone contact and I got a notification when you joined Twitter!”
Aziraphale grinned, feeling very special at Crowley’s confession. “I’m your only contact?”
Crowley’s cheeks burned red and he stammered out this next sentence, “That is not the message I was hoping you’d take from that.”
“But Crowley, that’s so sweet. You were saying such nice things to me on Twitter!” Aziraphale said beaming like a student had received a gold star.
Crowley grit his teeth and stomped his foot with each punctuation. “I. Was. Not. Saying. Nice. Things!”
“Sure you were!” Aziraphale grinned. “And you sent that lovely moving picture. A gift! Though you did misspell it.”
“This is exactly why you cannot be on Twitter,” Crowley yelled over his shoulder as he stomped back to the front door of the shop. “You aren’t ready for sarcasm without tone.”
“I think I did quite well,” Aziraphale said smugly as he settled himself back into his armchair.
“Stay off Twitter, until I say so.” Crowley jabbed his finger in Aziraphale’s direction. “Find another app to ruin humanity on.”
Then Crowley slammed the door shut behind him.
“Hmm, another app.” Aziraphale rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps I’ll try that app that Maggie suggested…Nextdoor.”