Notes: I love You've Got Mail and couldn't not make a Thorki AU out of it. I've watched this film so many times and despite the fact that it's getting old (especially considering how the Internet is progressing), it's still a delight to come back to it.
It was written for the Thorki Big Bang 2018.
This fic is such a gigantic piece of work for me who usually only writes one-shots, and I'm forever grateful that I took up this challenge because it brought me a lot!
I hope you enjoy this—don't hesitate to post a review if you liked it!
From: pirateangel
To: agent_of_asgard
Posted: Fri Oct 20, 2017 07:07 a.m.
Re: What about Bonnefoy?
Dear Asgardian,
Fenrir ate my bagel again this morning and left cheese on the cover of my favourite copy of The Crooked Planks, can you believe it?
Loki lets out a chuckle before sipping on his hot coffee, eyes carefully reading the black words on his laptop screen as he sweeps his dark locks up into a messy bun with an elastic band that had previously sat quietly around his right wrist.
But I don't mind, really. He's a good dog. I would feel so much lonelier without him. I fell in love with him at the shelter and couldn't even think of going home without him. Now, I can't imagine a life without him in there, his dog hair everywhere and his wet nose in my face every single morning.
Anyway, I am rambling. What have you been reading lately? I know we talk a lot about Bonnefoy but I'm sure you are onto something else, too.
He rubs a thumb across the smooth surface of his desk and looks out through his window; he catches the sight of red and orange leaves twirling in the air and smiles, thoughtful. The soft grey sky is mirrored by the grim grey of the asphalt underneath, both worlds so different and yet finding ties binding them to the other when rain starts to fall.
I hear nothing, not even a sound on the streets of New York, just the beat of my own heart. I have mail, from you, and I can't help loving your stupid username. Pirateangel, really? And Loki can't fight the smile curling on his lips. The silliest name for the most pleasant person I've met in a long time.
Again, he finds himself smiling.
He has grown very fond of this pirateangel over the months, ever since he has registered online on this forum dedicated to literature and poetry.
From: agent_of_asgard
To: pirateangel
Posted: Fri Oct 20, 2017 08:20 a.m.
Re: What about Bonnefoy?
I'm sorry Fenrir ruined your copy of Bonnefoy. I know how much you love this edition in particular. My cat sometimes nibbles on mine and it's infuriating, so I feel you. In the end, we can't help but love them no matter what stupid things they do; they are ours forever. You seem to love Fenrir so much, and so does he. It's heartwarming.
As for reading, I have been onto re-reading The girl with the dragon tattoo. What about you? I seem to recall your taste for Neil Gaiman.
Loki's eyes fall onto his pale, long fingers that are held out in front of him and typing giddily around his keyboard. His nails are carefully painted black despite Hela and Sif laughing it off, telling him on a very regular basis that Halloween only happens once a year, Loki, or maybe you've lost track of time.
Don't you love New York in the fall?
He adds the sentence suddenly, and his thoughts wander to the streets of New York full of colourful scarves and chilly wind and dried leaves crackling under various different heels.
It makes me want to buy school supplies and eat pumpkin pie at my mother's table with a glass of hot apple cider.
Hearing the heavy pitter-patter of raindrops upon the glass of his bedroom window is enough to bring back bouts of nostalgia where his mother appears in clouds of blue smoke and gentle smiles, a slice of pie in a plate in one hand, a plaid she knitted in the other. Loki can even taste the memory of damp air and heavy clouds releasing torrents on the roof of their little house in Bath.
My sister hates pumpkin pie so my mother always made two pies: one for us all, one for my dear sibling. It meant more for me, anyway, so it was a win-win.
Somewhere in Manhattan, the infamous pirateangel lets out a laugh at that.
x x x
Sliding his smartphone across the kitchen table surface, Thor checks for any new notification.
His heart misses a beat when his phone buzzes with the chime of a ringtone under his fingertips as a new message notification pops up on his screen, the little mail icon staring right back at his eager eyes.
"Is that your sweet agent_of_asgard again?"
Thor startles at Jane's voice, turning around like a kid being caught stealing from the cookie jar and eliciting a small laugh from her.
"Jane, for the love of— !" but he doesn't finish his sentence, brushes a hand through his short blond hair instead with a sigh. "Can you stop sneaking on me like that? You're going to give me a heart attack someday."
She rolls her eyes and grabs the bottle of orange juice to pour herself a glass, refilling Thor's discarded one in the process. Pale beams of light streak through gaps in the sky and fall upon her hands in a dance of sorts.
"So," she resumes, "what did they tell you today? Did they send you another message filled with poetic wanderings about fall?"
Thor takes a quick breath and swallows hard. "How do you know about— him?"
"So it's a him, hmmm. Alright," and she sits at the counter, grabs a slice of white bread and starts spreading butter on it. When Thor pleads her to tell him more about the matter at hand, she munches on it, contemplative. "You told me about your sweet correspondence yesterday evening."
His mouth tightens into a tense line; he finds himself a bit too dumbstruck to formulate a proper response.
"Fuck."
So now here he is, sitting in his kitchen with his best friend, attempting to stop himself from blushing and spilling everything to her. It's difficult, to be honest; he has always told Jane everything from the very beginning, from shouting that Fandral stole her Pokémon cards to grumbling in her ear that Matthew from sciences class was hoping to get a date with her in twelfth grade. They had tried dating back when they were in highschool before realising they were better as friends, and from this point on, their friendship only grew stronger
"Oh, come on, Thor," Jane grumbles with breadcrumbs around her mouth, "it's not like you can hide this shit from me."
And fuck is she right. She always knows everything.
Thor turns to give her a stern look, but is met with a smile and a laugh; Jane ends up smirking, lifting the corner of her lip in an attempt at dragging him out of his mood.
"How did you even know it was him? It could have been anyone and anything else. It's just a fucking notification sound," the blond man huffs.
Jane chuckles. "You have this dumb look on your face whenever you read one of his messages."
Finally, Thor has been rendered speechless, and he surrenders, defeated by an argument he cannot counter. Jane's face lights up like a Christmas tree, and he makes the wise decision to let it go.
x x x
Thor's phone vibrates on his desk a little before 11 a.m.
Jane (10:48 a.m)
Don't forget we have to be ready at 7 tonight. Don't work too late :*
Thor (10:48 a.m)
Tonight?
Thor (10:49 a.m)
Did I agree on something while we were drunk yesterday evening?
Jane (10:49 a.m)
Thor, the fucking scientific gala? From my research laboratory? :[
Thor (10:50 a.m)
… shit
He sighs as he reads Jane's messages over again, not remembering anything from the night before. He can't even pinpoint the moment he accepted to be her date for this gala he has no record of; he tends to hate these, which is just his luck as the heir of one of the biggest booksellers in the United States.
He feels genuinely sorry that he forgot, at least, and that somehow soothes his mind; nevertheless, his face slowly flushes at the idea of not being able to hold his fucking drink.
Pushing himself away from the desk in his office chair, Thor sighs heavily and types back.
Thor (11:02 a.m)
Do I have to go?
Jane (11:02 a.m)
You promised to be my plus-one?
Thor (11:03 a.m)
Why me? You have Darcy! What about Darcy?
Jane (11:03 a.m)
:[
She's working in London, you remember?
Thor (11:03 a.m)
… no? :D
Jane (11:04 a.m)
OOoooh
Jane (11:04 a.m)
I see
Thor (11:04 a.m)
What?
Jane (11:06 a.m)
You don't remember anything from yesterday apart from drinking and yelling your love for your fake digital boyfriend?
Jane (11:06 a.m)
;) ;)
Thor (11:10 a.m)
Jane
Thor (11:10 a.m)
Jane I love you but fuck off
Thor (11:10 a.m)
KINDLY
He may adore Jane, but there are days where he actually wants to murder her.
Once the slight wave of annoyance has passed, he realizes, but without a retort at hand, that it really wouldn't be a good thing for her to go alone and that he had promised to be there with her, even though he was drunk beyond words.
Let me pick you at 7, he ends up texting, the tips of his thumbs pressing carefully on his virtual keyboard. I promise to get out of work early and to be clean shaven.
Thor risks a glance across to the window, notices the rain has gone quiet; orange leaves veined with red glisten with new life on the pavement and he can't stop smiling as he imagines pumpkin pies and glasses of hot apple cider.
x x x
From: pirateangel
To: agent_of_asgard
Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2017 02:29 a.m.
Re: What about Bonnefoy?
Dear friend,
Do you sometimes feel disconnected from yourself? I always feel like I appear to be someone else in public before I go back to my shell in the warmth of home or anywhere I consider "private".
I somehow had promised my best friend to be her plus one for her scientific gala tonight. I don't really like parties or events. I was pushed under the spotlight without exactly wanting to but what can I say? My father wanted me to carry our family's legacy with our company. I wish my step-sister would have taken my place, at times, because I aspire to a quiet life and manageable stress.
Anyway. I didn't even remember agreeing to go and if I could, I would have avoided it, but I drunkenly promised her, so I went. Her girlfriend is working in London if you were wondering about that, which is why I replaced her. It sounds a little like Prince William taking on the Queen's role and tasks when she is too tired to travel and needs replacement. Can you picture me being of royal blood?
I am rambling, forgive me. It's late and with how tired I am, I get carried away. I guess I feel lonely, alone in this big house. Well, Fenrir is here, at least. Fenrir and big old me and all my books.
You asked about what I am currently reading. I guess I've read Pride & Prejudice about a hundred times, however, I can't seem to stop coming back to it. Will Lizzie and Darcy end up together? I still feel dread while reading even though I know perfectly well that they will marry.
I like writing you these messages. Sometimes I realize that they bear a lot of nonsense and maybe that you are rolling your eyes as you read about my days. I don't mind, as long as you find something to smile about, I guess?
I miss you, Thor almost types, "I" hanging between the lines up until he goes back and deletes it. How can he miss someone whose name he doesn't even know? How can he miss someone whose face he cannot even sketch?
"I miss you anyway," his voice drawls, and he rubs a hand over his face.
He hadn't even been aware he had spoken, and it somehow came out jagged and breathy.
You can't miss someone you have never met, can you? he thinks to himself before he texts the same thing to Jane, to which she simply replies you're drunk, go to bed. It's too late to be asking philosophical questions.
Maybe being alone with his thoughts this late in the night isn't such a good thing indeed, though he can't help himself. Can you miss someone you have never met? Someone you have never seen, have never heard, someone whose body you have never been close to?
The house is so quiet like this, with just Thor awake and Fenrir asleep at the end of the bed, Jane gone back at hers eventually. He's not quite sure he likes it, if he is completely honest with himself. It lacks something; warmth, perhaps? Or—
Well.
Thor knows exactly what is missing in his too big of a house; he does. But acknowledging the existence of such a feeling of loss and void is a little too much to bear at the moment, and he closes his laptop without even having sent his message, focusing on the warmth thinking about his friend brings.
He smiles.