Just something I made up to keep me writing! Feel free to steal if you want though!
For my Dixon Kid Fic:
Just a snippet set after the Outbreak starts and Rick finds the group:
“For Merle Dixon?” Lori's voice cut across the camp, sharp and disgusted. She was standing near the RV with her arms crossed over her chest, a look of disdain written on her face. “That redneck asshole’s not worth one of your lives, even with the guns thrown in.”
Daryl’s hands clenched into fists so tight that his nails cut into his palms. It wasn’t the words that bothered him. People had been talking shit about them as long as he could remember. And she wasn’t wrong, Merle was a redneck asshole. Hell, if he were here, he’d just laugh and ask her if that was the best she could do, but something about saying when her husband had left Merle chained to a building like Geek-bait wasn’t right.
Still, he tried to let it go, let it roll off his back, until he saw Robin.
She was standing by their tent, holding the string os squirrels that they had just brought in, to feed this sorry group tonight. Her hands stilled in the middle of untying the knots holding them. Her eyes were wide and wounded, but trying so hard not to show it.
He was speaking again, before he even had time to think better of it.
“Hey!” His voice was sharp and rough. He turned to face Lori, but moved towards Robin, putting space between them and the group. “You watch your damn mouth, Lady!”
“Daryl, she didn’t…” Rick started, holding up his hands as if trying to de-escalate things.
“No,” Daryl stopped him, not taking his eyes off Lori. “No. Y’all people can say whatever y’all want about me and Merle, call us whatever names you want. Whatever makes y’all feel better about yourselves. We’re grown ass men, we can take it and give back worse.”
He could feel everyone staring at him, but he didn’t care. His niece had just heard Queen Lori call her daddy too worthless to save. He wasn’t letting it roll off this time. He pointed at Robin. “But that is his little girl. Her name is Robin, by the way, and not what I heard you call her yesterday. She is eight years old, and you just let her know that you think her Daddy isn’t worth saving.”
“Daryl, I didn’t mean for her to hear that,” Lori cut in. “I’m just worried about…”
“Your husband, yeah, I get it,” he interrupted her again. “You may think we’re just a bunch a redneck assholes, but Merle means as much to her as Ricky here means to your boy. You took one look and decided you knew everything you needed to about us, but you don’t know shit, Lady. You don’t know what we’ve been through or what we done to keep Bird safe. So why don’t you think before you open that big fucking mouth of yours again?”
“Let’s all just calm down, now,” Rick said, stepping in front of Lori. Like Daryl was some kind of threat to her.
Daryl looked around at the others watching him. Shane had his hand over his gun, ready to draw. Dale had that pathetic, worried look he always had when someone went against the group. Andrea looked disgusted. Carol was clutching Sophia to her chest. Carl looked scared, and Daryl did feel bad about that. He took another step back towards Robin, away from Lori and Rick.
“And ‘nother thing,” he added, not quite ready to let it go yet. “You lot need us redneck assholes a lot more than we need y'all. It’s been our arrows putting meat in that pot every night. It’s been Merle’s knowledge of what's poisonous and what’s edible that’s kept your bellies full every day. Y'all can talk shit about us all y'all wanna, but if Bird hears another whisper, another word, hell even sees another dirty look, and y'all can figure out to make out here on your own because we’ll pack up and go. Leave all you fine, upstanding citizens to fend for yourselves.
“Daryl, I said we’d go back,” Rick said apologetically.
But Daryl wasn’t listening anymore. He grabbed his buck knife from where Rick had thrown it in their scuffle and knelt down to Robin’s level.
“Whatcha’ crying for, Pippy?” he said, roughly, but he wiped the tears from her eyes with a tenderness belying the scene he’d just made. “Dry it up. You got me. I’m gonna go get Merle, everything’s gonna be fine.”
“But what if Daddy’s hurt?” she asked, her voice small in a way that made his heart twist. “Or worse?”
“Hush all that,” he said, softer now. “You know your Daddy is the toughest son-of-bitch around. Can’t no dead bastards hurt him.” He took his knife and put it in her hands. “Now, I want you to take this, and I want you to stay in our tent until me or Merle gets back, okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed, sniffling, wiping her eyes with her free hand.
“That’s my girl,” he said, hugging her. He cradled her head with one hand and rested his forehead against hers. “Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”
You can bounce back by counting your blessings, listing your strengths and celebrating your achievements, says Lucy Taylor.
#FUTUREFRIDAY
“The problem I faced in learning to accept rejection is that other people’s rejections are almost always invisible.Very few researchers share news of all their rejections, but the reality is that, for many journals, you are more likely to be rejected than accepted.”
Whether or not you’re about to publish your research or are already waiting to hear back from reviewers, it’s important to remember that a rejection of your paper doesn’t equal personal failure. Think of it as a setback, a challenge to overcome which will help you grow and develop as a scientist.
Wish I could dress like this every day. I’m so comfy!!
Spirit week: “future Friday” (aka: what do you want to be when you grow up?). Since “retired” or “Disney Princess” isn’t exactly something I can wear today...I went with “writer” 😊
By accepting that projects will be affected by the coronavirus pandemic, students and supervisors can find a healthy way forward, say Paul Ashton and Linamaria Pintor-Escobar.
#FUTUREFRIDAY
“Right now, there is a generation of PhD students stuck at home for whom the constraints and uncertainty created by the coronavirus present a unique obstacle. We think that doctoral projects — like many other ongoing projects — should be adapted to the circumstances by encouraging creative thinking and updating academic standards” Linamaria Pintor-Escobar and Paul Ashton write in their article and propose ways of dealing with the crisis.
