#but the feedback on the assignment was Weird i know it wasnt good but their suggestions are all weird and almost opposite of what i would

[archivedsamwilson]

hey so uh, ive started writing a short Sam fic, and im actually feeling kinda ok about it. the only thing is ive literally never written anything that wasnt for a school assignment, so id really love some feedback/ confidence boost. I’m gonna put the first 600 words or so below the cut, but i’d love if youd be able to read it and let me know what you think/if youd be interested in reading more. 

“Good morning!” rang out the voice of your coworker.

You’d never understood how some people could be so awake at 8am, but you knew you had to put on a happy face, or management would come for you.

You crouch behind the counter, restocking the bags of coffee beans, hoping the monotony of the task will help the 7 hour shift go by faster. Blonde. Pike. Italian. Pike. Christmas. Christmas? It was only September.

“Hey Y/N” said your manager, “could you slide over to the cash till we ride out the rush?”

“Sure thing boss”. As you stand, you hit your head on the overhanging counter. Oh so it’s gonna be one of those days.

At the register, you play your classic How Many Lattes in a Row game. The rules were simple: count the number of lattes ordered in a row, and if you beat your record, you would allow yourself a chocolate cake pop on your next break. Your record was six, but you had a good feeling that today was the day.

Your chances were good. The next man in line ordered three lattes for his large tourist family, so you were already almost halfway there. Next a mocha (which is technically a latte, and you really want the cake pop, so you let it slide). Two more grande vanilla lattes brings you up to your record. If you could just get one more…

“Uh hi there, I’d like a venti half sweet extra shot Americano blanco”. Your heart sank, no cake pop for you today.

You look up at the man who has crushed your chocolatey dreams. He’s tall, but not too tall. Cute, but unassuming. Serious, but also nervous, as though he’s afraid you’ll ask him a question to which he’s not willing to give an answer.

“That will be $4.50” please.” You smile, and before you’re able to ask how he’d like to pay, he hastily hands you a five dollar bill.

“Keep the change”, he smiles. A bit sad, a bit flirty. He turns to walk away before you remember.

“Oh I almost forgot, could I get your name?”

The man turns to you and hesitates “Yeah uh.. it’s uh.. Tom”

“Ok, Tom. Have a great day!” As you pass the cup down to the espresso bar, you think over your encounter with the strange man. You highly doubt his name was actually Tom, most people didn’t hesitate like that when asked their name. He didn’t seem weird exactly, but he did seem… secretive. You think back to the time a customer gave his name as Mr. X. “I guess some people just don’t want to give out their highly sensitive personal information,” you laugh to yourself.

But there was something about “Tom” that seemed so familiar. Had he come in before? You were on a first name basis with most of the regulars, but you were sure you’d never served him before. Was he an actor maybe? A guest star in an obscure episode of CSI? You supposed that would explain the alias.

“Y/N!” Your boss’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Stop daydreaming and start helping the next customer”.

You call over the next in line and continued the routine, thoughts of your latte game forgotten. “What can I get you today? Can I get your name? How would you like to pay?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see “Tom” slip out the side door, tugging his grimy baseball cap farther down is face.

“What a strange guy”, you think to yourself. You wonder if you’ll ever see him again.

[craniotome]

I’ve had quite the weird down-and-up day today. I was late this morning to lecture because I didnt realise that it started at half eight rather than the usual nine o’clock, so I strolled into the hospital taking my sweet time enjoying the warm morning and sipping on a coffee, only to have a classmate dash past me, revealing I was already a 15 minutes late

The first picture represents the reason why for the first part of today my mood completely collapsed and I nearly ended up as my sod-all self all over again: For our practical, which was right after the lecture, we were setting up external fixators and testing different configurations to see which were more stable. External fixators are orthopaedic surgical instruments that help hold a bone in place after a fracture, to allow for proper healing. Holes need to be drilled into the bones, pins placed in, and the pins aligned with the external clamps and perpendicular bars. I only blame myself for not being more careful and being so willing to do something I wasn’t entirely confident in - the screw on the far left was placed by me, completely out of plane and fucking up the entire experiment, which in turn out make our data (yes, our, thats the worst part - it was a group experiment), and we werent allowed to do another set-up and instead just continue despite already knowing our data was invalid.

The lesson I learnt today was that I should never do anything, especially if I had a choice in the matter, anything that potentially can cause irreversible harm or effects that I wasnt entirely confident of doing. I only did it because we were passing the drill around the group, and I only drilled after asking the surgeon supervising if I was holding it correctly, only to get a nonchalant yea.

Recently, while roaming the pages of Wikipedia, I learnt that  the Royal Society’s motto is “nullius in verba”, which translates from Latin to take nobody’s word for it. Very poignant advice which could have prevented something that in retrospect, might actually be the stupidest thing Ive done at Imperial so far.

The rest of the day made me feel better - dinner with an old friend, a leg of lamb roast with all the trimmings (although I did burn the parsnips), and news that my latest assignment (an essay on Nociceptive Mechanisms in Traumatised Tissues; which translates to: Why pain when I hit myself) went well with fortunately quite good feedback about it. All in all, today was a humbling experience, although it did fracture amidst the stress, and revealed that perhaps the fragility of my newfound state of life satisfaction is just a misplaced drill bit away.

[ecotone99]

[MF] Nadias Story

I'd love feedback! I did my best with english spelling and grammar, but most of what I know is self-taught, so if you find mistakes, tell me! Other than that, I hope this story fits here, if it doesnt, Id love a suggestion of another sub where it might. Also, not sure what tag fit, so I went with this one.

I dont know anymore when had the idea of leaving. I know it was a long time before I actually did, but ever since that idea, that possibility of leaving it all behind sprang into my mind it never left. Some days it was sleeping, dormant in the back of my mind, other days I couldn't think of anything else. I made plans, scrapped them and made new ones, wrote down a list of things I needed that was soon full of crossed out items or added notes to some. In time, over several years, I prepared my backpack, hidden from those I wanted to flee from, my "family".

Then, quite suddenly I saw an opportunity and instinctively knew it was now or never, it wouldn't ever be as easy to run as now. No-one was home except me, as always, little 17 year old Nadia was always left behind. So I grabbed the envelope with the money they had saved, took my backpack, some water and walked.

I walked for several hours, I didnt dare to look back. It was a peaceful, sunny day, but it was the end of winter, so it was still cold. The day was calm, but I was everything but. For hours my heart was beating fast, I expected every car, every truck every sound to be my family catching me. I walked near the street, but not on it, so it was slow going but I needed that bit of safety from being spotted.

When it got dark, and much colder I found a dry spot and set up my little tent, ate some bread and snuggled up in my sleeping bag. I had cried many nights before, and this night I cried too, but they were tears of relief, not of pain, fear and anger like before. It was just after sunrise when I woke up, quickly ate something and packed up.

I knew the distance to the next city only roughly, so I wasn't too sure when I'd reach it. I hurried, I didnt pack very much food or water, not enough for many days. My feet hurt, I never walked that much with a heavy backpack before and I was exhausted. I was cold, and scared I wouldnt make it to the city on foot, so I decided to try to wave down a driver to take me with him. I knew stories of things like this going wrong, but I didn't have anything to lose, nothing I really cared about anyhow.

I walked for a while at the edge of the street, waving at every driver who was going in the right direction. I still know the exact number of cars and trucks who passed me without stopping; thirteen cars and five trucks. It wasn't a busy road, so that was a while, but the sixth truck, a big one with some kind of water tank on the back stopped. He asked me if I was lost and I just asked if he could take me to wherever he needed to go. I could see in his face that he was thinking, so I added I'd be good company, or invisible and quiet if he wanted. If I knew anything, it was making myself invisible and not noticed. I was so relieved when he agreed, so I climbed in, put my pack between my legs and sat down.

He was big, burly with a big beard, but he had nice eyes and talked in a very kind way, so I thought I was lucky with him. We talked a bit, at first he asked me about myself, why I was all alone, but I dodged the questions or gave very vague answers, so he dropped the topic soon enough and we talked about other stuff. He told me about himself, his family and his dog. I soon knew that he wasnt going to the city I originally planned, but it was all the same to me, further away was better anyway. We talked for maybe two or three hours, then got quiet and he turned on the radio and I could feel my eyelids getting heavy, my exhaustion settling in. When I woke up, it was dark and we were stopping at a reststop. Tomorrow evening we would arrive St. Petersburg he said, thats where he'd have to drop me off.

The next day was as exciting for me as the ones before, but it was finally settling in, that I was free now, no family to tell me to shut up, or how to dress, noone to hit me for slightly burning the food, just me, my pack and freedom. It was also scary, but I told myself everything was better than before, no matter what happened. I enjoyed the scenery, the radio, talks with Alex, the driver. Evening came all too quickly, and I found myself in the outskirts of a big city, bigger than any I had been to before. I thanked Alex and went on my way, thinking if I could just set up a tent here or if I could find something solid to stay in.

In the end, after walking around for a while, I found a group of homeless guys under a large bridge and decided here was as good as anywhere else. Didnt need my tent, so I just got out my sleeping bag, put the backpack in it at my feet and slept. I could feel the others watching me, but pretended not to notice. I slept uncomfortably, and woke up early in the morning before the sun. I checked my stuff if everything was still there, and found everything where it was supposed to be, so I packed up and went on the search for food. I had told myself I wanted to use as little money as possible, so I had more for the times I had no other options.

I went into a few stores, and took little things at each one. An apple here, some water there, bread at another, you get it. It was surprisingly easy, no-one paid me any attention so as long as I wasn't acting obvious it would be easy grabs. The next days went by in a haze, I slept in a different spot each night, mostly stole food and sometimes paid for things that were too risky. I talked with other homeless people, the nice ones gave me some tips, most tried to flirt with me or outright groped me, which I absolutely did not know how to deal with, so I always just kind of let it happen and walked away as soon as I could.

After a while I had a routine. but I didnt want to stay on the streets. So I figured I needed a job, something to make money. I didn't really care what, so I asked around and after some persistent nagging I was referred to a Club. I am not going into detail here, but basically after that I was a maid for everything. Some days I was a courier, others I was a lookout, on others I had to clean. I was "mentored" by one guy throughout this all, and after a few weeks he let me stay at his place, provided I'd make sure it was kept clean. He taught me how a lot of things worked, at first basic things, then how to defend myself. He gave me a knife and taught me how to use it, how to keep it hidden but always in reach, where to use it on someone for what effects. I did that job for about eight months, and as I got better and more reliable, I got other assignments too. Vadim showed me how to exploit people, how to make them trust me, how to use my body to get what I, or my boss wanted. Throughout the time I lived with Vadim, he rarely expressed interest in me. He watched me a lot, and occasionally touched me in a weird way, but never made more advances. I think teaching me to use my body, and seeing me practicing with him changed things for him, because soon after, he started demanding other "favors" for the privilege of staying with him. I figured it wouldnt hurt me and I didn't really have a choice, so I agreed. I didn't hate it, but I definitely didn't like it either, especially when he got home drunk or high and got really rough.

But I endured it, the warm home was worth it I told myself. And, at some point I asked Vadim to share what he took with me, so from then on most times I was high when things happened or got heated, and only really knew about them when my body hurt the next day. Months passed like that, and I quickly got hooked on worse stuff, willing to do more and more for my next fix. I could see myself falling, slipping, but I just didn't care. At some point, I even wanted it to end, I wanted to take too much, but never did, and Vadim never gave me more than I could take.

It was midwinter, nearly two years after I ran when Vadim and me where running errands and the one we were supposed to bring things to started acting weird, aggressive. They said we brought them false stuff and got out knives, and as we were only two and they six or seven, we ran back to the car. I was first, so i got in at the drivers seat and started it, waiting for Vadim to get in, afraid, but also, for the first time in a long while feeling alive, like that first few days after I ran.

When he finally got in I wanted to drive back to our place, but one of the guys had thrown his knife and caught Vadim in his thigh and it was bleeding like mad. Vadim died next to me, before I could reach a hospital, so I turned and drove to our boss. I told him what happened, and he took care of Vadim and the car, and told me to stay at his place for a while. His place, as he called it, was a huge upgrade to Vadims place, even though that wasnt shabby either. But this place was all clean and tidy, with style that just fit together, so I didnt mind staying there at all. Three days it was before he got back. He had my backpack with him, after I told my story he and vadim agreed that it was good to keep that updated and ready.

He seemed distressed, told me we needed to go. I learned not to question things, so I agreed and helped him pack the rest of what he needed. Not an hour later we got to his car and drove out of the city, and soon, out of the country...

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