R. Bennet

Exit, pursued by the fear of inadequacy

[rbennetwrites]

You Win Some, You Lose Some

I lost a bet to @0writerchick0 and a Lannister always pays her debts.

So, this was the penalty prompt: Modern College AU Sansan 

There was more detail, but SPOILERS.

I really liked the challenge of going completely against my natural grain. And weaving in a lot of my own University experiences. Except the elevator bit – that was my mate, and he got a very severe warning letter.

Keep reading

[rbennetwrites]

A Boy From Nowhere Update

*rises from the grave* Here it is. ‘Bout bloody time, ey?

X

@0pheliaraine is a beta goddess. Please send much much praise her way.

[rbennetwrites]

Tagged by: @0pheliaraine 

What is your total word count on AO3?

119,421

How often do you write?

I typically write in binges over weekends and school holidays, whatever I can fit around work. Lately, I have been trying the “little every day” method. With mixed results.

Do you have a routine for writing?

I’ve been moving around a lot recently and so have had to get a lot less precious about my writing space. Other than that: coffee, nicotine and BBC Radio 6 Music. I try to clear my schedule because when I’m in the zone I can go for hours at a time. 

What are your favourite kinks/tropes/pairings?

I do like a good “magic/aliens/ghosts made them do it” story. 

Pairings? Petyr x Sansa, Snamione, Spuffy 4eva

Do you have a favourite fic of yours?

I like Feathers as it came so naturally. And it’s finished.

Your fic with the most kudos?

A Boy From Nowhere, by a clear parsec. 

Anything you don’t like about your writing?

I hate any of my “functional” sections of prose i.e. getting a character from point A to point B. Some writers have a knack for moving their characters across rooms, down corridors and up the street with the grace of a Prima Ballerina. And then I stagger in with all the subtlety of a belly-flopping iguanodon.

On good days I try to put my teacher-hat on and find constructive ways in which to improve something I dislike. And on bad days I want to take a match to my AO3 account.

Now something you do like?

I do like my dialogue and I have a lot of fun writing it - a method that mostly consists of me doing poor impersonations to myself at home in my living room. 

tagging: @thescholarlystrumpet @0writerchick0

[rbennetwrites]

Help Wanted: Beta

The successful candidate will have experience in the following areas:

Comma wrangling

Adverb culling

Prose de-purpling

Cutting through great swathes of stale, pretentious drivel to reveal shiny, fresh narrative (though, glitter on a turd and all that - not expecting miracles)

Qualifications and skills will include:

Ego-stroking

Cheer-leading

Spelling

Synonyming 

The ability to kill my darlings (with kindness)

Not taking “NO! NOOOO! I WOOON’T! I’M TOO TIRED TO REDRAFT!” for an answer

Please a statement of enthusiastic intent to: 

MY INBOX 

by 

like, Monday? 

Time-travellers need not apply. Yet.

[rbennetwrites]

REPOSTING FROM AGES AGO COS I’M NOT EVEN KIDDING GUYS I WILL SACRIFICE CHILDREN TO THE LORD OF LIGHT IF IT WILL SPARE ME THE PAIN OF YET ANOTHER REDRAFT OF THIS DAMN FIC

[rbennetwrites]

Page One Hundred and Ninety-Nine

by RBennet

Pairing: Severus Snape x Hermione Granger

Rating: M

Summary: Snape and Granger. The darkest timeline.

PART ONE

I may have said “one shot”. I may have lied. 

[rbennetwrites]

‘nother one.

STILL PART ONE

[rbennetwrites]

ANOTHER GAME OF PROCRASTINATING ON TUMBLR

Alright @greedisgreen, I’ll play. Your Bowie and Beatles were acceptable. The rest, well...9 albums? 

Black album Metallica

Jagged Little Pill  Alanis Morissette

Arthur (or the decline and fall of the British Empire) The Kinks

Parallel Lines  Blondie

Once More With Feeling The Cast of BTVS and Joss Whedon

Permisson to Land The Darkness 

Back to Black  Amy Winehouse (YAAAS GREED)

The Head on the Door  The Cure

Lemonade Beyonce

@petyrbaelish @thescholarlystrumpet @landsmanwashere

[rbennetwrites]

Hi I just wanted to ask if you're ever gonna keep writing your "Boy From Nowhere" fic. I think it was really great, I liked the way you write and how you've managed to capture the essence of the characters. It is the first fanfic I've ever read and it's kind of special. I just wanted to congratulate you :)

Hello @quoyan11​

I am absolutely going to keep writing “A Boy From Nowhere” even though it seems like I am a lame-arse who cannot be bothered to update her fic. However, RL is getting in the way. Eff that bollocks! I’ll sort my sen out.

But truly, if this is the first fanfic you have ever read you need to go and boldly go…where you have not gone before, well, I am a niche, a “shipper”.

IF you are going to delve, first and foremost appreciate quality of writing. 

Within this current “ship”, the ones that are essential IMO:

‘Run Me’ by moffnat 

‘numb’ by Drbwho

‘Return to Winterfell’ by smaragaide

There are some incredible stories out there that I hesitate to call fanfiction; “a calibre of excellent writing within a known universe” would be more apt.

[rbennetwrites]

Forgot to actually tag the talent because I’m a moron @petyrbaelish @glas-smaragaide

If anyone wants to introduce me to the incredible Drbwho then go ahead. 

[rbennetwrites]

Hi I just wanted to ask if you're ever gonna keep writing your "Boy From Nowhere" fic. I think it was really great, I liked the way you write and how you've managed to capture the essence of the characters. It is the first fanfic I've ever read and it's kind of special. I just wanted to congratulate you :)

Hello @quoyan11​

I am absolutely going to keep writing “A Boy From Nowhere” even though it seems like I am a lame-arse-duck who cannot be bothered to update her fics. However, RL is getting in the way. 

But truly, if this is the first fanfic you have ever read you need to go and boldly go…where you have not gone before.

Within this current “ship”, the ones that are essential IMO:

‘Run Me’ by moffnat 

‘numb’ by Drbwho

‘Return to Winterfell’ by smaragaide

There are some incredible stories out there that I hesitate to call fanfiction; “a calibre of excellent writing within a known universe” would be more apt.

[rbennetwrites]

Page One Hundred and Ninety-Nine

by RBennet

Pairing: Severus Snape x Hermione Granger

Rating: M

Summary: Snape and Granger. The darkest timeline.

PART ONE

I may have said “one shot”. I may have lied. 

[jianzhu-archive]

[4/?] Belter Creole

like any language, lang belta has regional variations between speakers, depending on where they come from in the solar system and what their linguistic background is.

[rbennetwrites]

Snamione Fic Straw Poll: Yay, Nay?

One/two-shot based on ‘The Cursed Child’ and the ever-so-delicate whiffs of this pairing. 

Started it last year and have just now dusted it off and remembered why I was so excited about it. Let me know if you’re interested in reading it and I’ll finish it. 

Description and summary below the cut.

Title: Page One-Hundred and Ninety-Nine

Pairing: Snape/Hermione

Rating: M

Summary:

‘When did it start? I don’t know. When life as I knew it ended. When the world collapsed in on itself like the crumbling tiles on a dilapidated, Muggle terrace. Like the hope that I once stored in a tight little compartment deep inside my chest, Tupperware-sealed, spilled out like old, cold beans onto a linoleum floor.’

Snape and Granger. The darkest timeline.

[sapphic-phoenix-deactivated2021]

There’s Klingon subtitles for Discovery on Netflix.

[rbennetwrites]

[cowboyjimkirk]

Star Trek: Discovery’s opening title sequence [x].

[rbennetwrites]

If anyone wants me for the next few months this is where I’ll be...

🖖🖖🖖🖖

[rbennetwrites]

You Win Some, You Lose Some

I lost a bet to @0writerchick0 and a Lannister always pays her debts.

So, this was the penalty prompt: Modern College AU Sansan 

There was more detail, but SPOILERS.

I really liked the challenge of going completely against my natural grain. And weaving in a lot of my own University experiences. Except the elevator bit – that was my mate, and he got a very severe warning letter.

You Win Some, You Lose Some

Rating: 12A

The automatic lights flicker on. He saunters up the stairs into the foyer, coming to a stop on the other side of the thick double-glazed doors, hair hanging like a veil over his mottled scar tissue.

Still, Sansa cannot look directly at it.

Instead she mouths through the glass, wide-eyed and vulnerable: I’ve lost my fob. She makes a sweeping gesture over the sensor to ensure he gets the message.

Somewhere between the student bar, the club, and the casino, her bag had disappeared. Along with at least twenty quid and a whole ten-deck. She’d managed through the outside gate and into the courtyard by sneaking in past an amorous couple. But at 5am, this part was tricky.

She exaggerates her shivers in the cold, breath misting the glass.

He shrugs.

She pouts.                

He turns to walk away.

Then, he presses the release button and lets her in.

#

Sansa plays cards with Jon because she feels sorry for him. Not his fault her father couldn’t keep it in his trousers. Not his fault that her mother always treated him like crap. Not his fault the only job he can get without a name and a good education is Head of Facilities.

“Who’s the security guard with the, y-know, the face thing?”

Jon gives her a brooding look, one of a whole repertoire. “Clegane.”

He chucks a Queen of Hearts.

“What happened to him?” She tries to keep her tone innocent, casual.

Jon shrugs, staring at the hand and swivelling in his office chair. He gives a quick glance over the screens; cameras boxed in orderly rows, 1 to 25 covering the whole Halls of Residence for the site. It’s early for any students to be stumbling back in, but she spies a pile of vomit that Jon is conspicuously ignoring on 14.

She picks up the Queen, and throws down her Five of Spades.

Jon stares at the card, then says, “He does a good job.”

He hadn’t answered her question, but she lets it slide.

She moves to perch on the desk, about to ask another (not too) probing question when Jon starts forward, eyes on 4. “Oh for fucks-“

The screen shows two boys in the lift bouncing up and down like boisterous toddlers. Warning lights begin to flash red on a panel near Jon’s tea - “ELEVATOR SAFETY”.  He looks up apologetically. “Sorry.”

She waves him off and finishes his tea.

#

The second time Clegane hand-delivers a package to her flat, Margaery answers the door expecting one of her “dates”.

Her friend throws it in her lap with a flip comment, “If you want a better grade, you should be fucking a tutor.”

#

She stumbles over a traffic cone abandoned in the corridor. Then vomits.

He picks her up, carries her to her flat, then snatches her keys when she can’t align her hand with the lock.

Sansa half-expects to be shoved over the threshold. But instead, he hands her fuzzy pink dice keyring back and says, “Goodnight, little bird.”

#

She gets a job in a bar; a dive that screams “fuck-off students”. She’s third year now and has little patience for her fellow pissed-up undergrads. There is rarely toilet paper in the cubicles, but at least no costume bar crawls, no pub golf, no strawpedo competitions with sickly alchopops and rainbow puke. Instead it’s real ale and a few dozen types of whiskey. A proper pub.

A few weeks ago, Jon started to bring his team of facilities staff in to the place to show some brotherly support. It’s a mish-mash of pimply IT teens and grizzly old men, at home with their pints of bitter, looking grumpy at the lack of heavy objects to shift. Put the world to rights. Talk shop. Football.

It’s a Friday, busy, and she notices Clegane has joined them for the first time, his tall, surly head above the regular crowd.

She is aware that Clegane watches her all night, and that Jon watches him.

#

Last man standing, the bar shuts down. Fourth week in a row he’s been in now, good eye and bad following her around.

“Food?” she suggests.

“Starving.”

They sit in the too-bright takeaway at 3am, watching the students and locals flop in and squint at the backlit menu. The smell of fried chicken will stick to her hair and clothes for days. He eats like a starving man.

Some twat makes a comment about his face. All he has to do is stand up.

“Sorry, mate. Sorry.”

She forgets when she’d stopped seeing it.

#

She’s drunk, he less so, but he kisses her anyway.

Her narrow bed is only just big enough for one, so he doesn’t stay. No note, no phone number (doesn’t really seem the “had fun, call me, xoxo” type) but when she wakes up there is a glass of water and some ibuprofen on her nightstand.

#

“What do you even talk about?”

“We don’t. Not really.”

Margaery frowned as she pulls her razor over her knee, white foam disappearing to reveal smooth, pale skin. Her lips pucker.

Sansa catches the look. “…what?”

“Nothing.”

“No, you want to say something. Say it.”

“I just…I don’t-“ Margaery sighs, shakes her head. “I’m not going to tell you who to like or who to fuck, that’s not my place.” She sighs again, and flicks the foam off her razor into the water. “I just don’t get it.”

“Because you think he’s ugly…”

“No,” Margaery says with patience, “he’s been kind to you, caring. He’s done you favours and looked after you. They’re all ticks in the ‘good bloke’ column. But maybe he’s not so much your knight in shining armour, more…” She waggles her fingers, flicking water on the tile.

“What?”

Margaery’s eyes slide away and her mouth twists. “Just…a vibe.”

“A “vibe”?”

“What about that Professor Baelish – the economics one – if you’re after older men...that’s what you should be going after.”

Sansa scrunches up her face. “Nah, he seems like a creep. And he’s shorter than me.”

“Not hard. Giant woman.” She points her razor at Sansa’s legs, stretched out long and crossed at the ankles.

“If you like him so much why don’t you fuck him.”

“I would…but I didn’t take his module, so no good for me. I have my sights set on a First and the only way I’m going to do that without studying is to get my teeth into Joff Baratheon.”

“Wanker.”

She shrugs, water trickling down her shoulder. “True. But the Chancellor’s son.”

“Is that what all-“ Sansa gestures to the excessive scrubbing and pruning, “-this is for?”

“Nah. Going out with Loras and Renly, I just want to out-fierce the other fag-hags.”

Sansa rolls her eyes. “I’ll not wait up then. Try not to bring back a bunch of strangers at 6am this time. I have lectures tomorrow.”

Margaery throws her head back and laughs. “You love it! I bet you a tenner you’ll get up and do shots with us in your pyjamas again.”

Sansa replies to that comment by flicking a handful of bubbles at the other girl’s face. Margaery only cackles harder.

#

“Would you like to get some food that isn’t deep-fried chicken sometime?”

“Hey, Sandor – fancy the casino Friday night?”

“Sup, Clegane. Netflix and chill?”

She frowns at her face in the mirror. Adjusts to sultry pout. Stands side on and runs her hand over her flat stomach, sucking in her waist.

Yes, if he says no, he is an idiot.

She hears the clack of heels and the door slam signalling her flatmates’ exit for the evening.

#  

The knock on the flat door is sharp, hard and early.

Sansa’s stomach flutters

Instead she is met with Jon’s cold, brown stare.

He’s angry. Come to do the ‘Big Brother’ talk, then the – “I only want what’s best for you.” Fucks sake. About bloody time.

It feels like all the animosity that has been shed over the years, is thrown up like a wall between them. She’s a spoilt, nasty thirteen-year-old again and he’s a sullen shadow that mopes around the house avoiding her mother’s ire.

“What do you want?” She flicks her hair for good measure.

“I think you know.”

She plays innocent. “No, I don’t”

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

He sighs. “What are you doing, Sansa?”

She decides to stop playing dumb. “Nothing...”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Yet.”

He frowns, hard. His lips thin and whiten beneath his beard.

“We’re friends…he’s kind, and if he feels the same way then…”

“Sansa, there are a thousand men – good, decent and kind men – out there.”

“You sound like Margaery.”

He frowns again. “Maybe you should listen to your friend. And your brother.”

“Half-brother.”

His nostrils flare and he bristles. “Sansa, stay away from him.”

“Fuck you, Jon,” she says with a smile, slamming the door in his face.

She regrets it immediately.

#

“Jon?”

The office is open so she pushes the door.

His chair is empty, only the screens, their cards stacked ready to play. His empty mug.

Something on one of the screens catches her eye: 10, a back-access corridor. Jon and Sandor having what appeared to be a furious argument. She leans in.

She can’t make out the words, so she focuses on her half-brother’s lips, squinting in an effort to read what he says into the static.

Then Sandow lunges forward so fast it makes her gasp. He’s going to hit him, she thinks, hand flying to her mouth, to the side of the chair. Instead, Clegane grabs Jon by the face with two strong hands. And kisses him.

For her, it’s like a physical punch to the gut.

They pull apart and Jon seems calmer. Even in low resolution she can see the mood shift – they move in again, this time into something slow and delicate. Beautiful really, if she were capable of being objective.

And all the cards fall into place.

#

A/N:

This is nearly a year late. Can’t even blame BST.

[petyrbaelish-deactivated2018010]

Voted m'dear. I went on: "which one would I pick up in a bookshop?" and that's definitely no.2 for me. Though, the blood-smear title for no.1 is pretty cool. You don't need to write me a micro but FYI: Queer in the North! Queer in the North!

you were born the third child of house stark. rebellious as ever, you loved a good time and drinking with the soldiers rather than sewing and singing and all that horseshit. you were known to single-handedly cause the most raucous rendition of “the bear and the maiden fair” at a feast than any the north has ever seen. your parents were convinced that no one would be able to tame you — and they were right. you fell for the maid who was sent to marry your brother. you wed, and with the reluctant blessings of your parents, went to travel across the north to bring laughter and countless fond memories.

want one?

[rbennetwrites]

alright stop presses - no need for that RBennet biography after all...

Thank you. You’re too kind to us poor internet folk. I look forward to buying your published works someday, my love.

[petyrbaelish-deactivated2018010]

book cover story asks .:*・°☆.。.:*

hey guys!! so i need help picking a cover option for my hardcover print of my recently-finished fic. (click to enlarge images, sorry the quality is low; i had to lower the resolution before uploading to tumblr). i cannot for the life of me pick one. could you lend a hand? here’s how!

you don’t have to be following me and you don’t have to read the fic at all — just help me pick a cover!

reblog this post so i can get more opinions

vote here for which cover i should use!

send me an ask that: tells me you voted, your sexual orientation/gender and which asoiaf kingdom you like the best! (or which real-life country for those who aren’t in the fandom)

wait for me to publish a three-to-five sentence story based on the information you give me + what i can deduce from the first few pages of your blog :)

blacklist “#nat story asks” if you don’t give a shit

thanks in advance! reblog 2 save a life <3

[rbennetwrites]

Excellent work, Nat. Very excited to see this in RL.