Matchmaker, shipper, dabbler.
50% Willpower, 30% Addiction, 10% Dream, 10% Can't-Be-Bothered.
--- fandom / appreciation / pointless stuff blog ---
Hi and hello~~~
(my 3ds friend code: 5000-2362-1176 thank)
Wizards can make fun of muggles all they want but the joke’s on them because phones can do in two seconds what they use owls and high-level magic to do, AND we have tanks. Try to avada kedavra a tank you stick-wiggling nerds
Gendry/Arya: found their phone number in a library book au & called the wrong number while drunk au
(OMG WOW BEST COMBINATION OF PROMPTS EVER OMG. Adjusting slightly, but I think it’s fine.)
"Good with his hands: +985254104921" was all the note scribbled in the margin of The Causes and Myths of the Cold War had said. For a laugh, Sansa had put the number in her phone as “Handyman.”
Sometimes, when she was drunk, Arya texted him.
Well, not sometimes. Always.
And what surprised her most was that he always responded. And not just with a “who is this?”—actually responded.
Arya Stark: How do airplanes stay up?
Handyman: Buoyant force, I think? I’m not a physicist though. I’d ask one of them.
Arya Stark: Have you ever listened to Swords in the Morning?
Handyman: Sometimes. Usually at the gym.
Arya Stark: Do you realize that someone described you as good with your hands in a library book?
Handyman: No. But this explains a great deal.
Those were her favorites.
It wasn’t until a Saturday night in June—right after finals and before she and Sansa would make the long drive North for the summer that Handyman called her.
"So," he slurred into the phone, "did you actually get my number out of a book?"
"Why do you text me?"
"Fairrr enough." He hiccuped. "Do you actually no my name?"
"You’re in my phone as ‘Handyman,’" she confessed.
He was silent for a moment, then he said, “Oh. You can’t see me nodding, can you?”
"I like your texts."
"I like yours," she said.
"Do you want to meet sometime? I’ll keep my hands to myself and everything," he said.
Arya glanced at her packed bags. ”I’m leaving tomorrow at seven in the morning, so it’s now or never.”
"Oh. Where are you?"
"King’s Landing. Aegon’s Hill."
"I’m in flea bottom. Meet at the fountain on Pisspot Square?"
"See you in twenty."
She knew it was a bad idea, meeting a drunk stranger alone at night. She knew it was. So she grabbed her pepper spray and wore her sneakers and hurried down the way.
He was sitting on the edge of the fountain, staring at his cell phone.
"I was scared you’d be a bloke," he said as she approached.
"Yeah, well, I’m not." Her arms were crossed over her chest now, the pepper spray hidden under her arm.
"I’m not going to do anything, you know. I just wanted to meet you," he shrugged. "You’re basically a mystery and you keep texting me."
"Well, here I am."
"You’re freakishly tall."
He laughed and swayed.
"What’s your name?" she asked.
"Gendry. And you?"
He mouthed her name and hiccuped.
"I’m too drunk to do this now," he sighed. "When you get back, want to meet up? See a film or something?"
He got to his feet.
"Goodnight, Arya." And he walked back towards Flea Bottom.