Writers Are Not Robots A Reminder To Writers And Readers Alike

Writers are not robots – a reminder to writers and readers alike

Recently I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and me being me I decided to make a post about it – sorry for the lack of eloquence with it, but there we are.

To writers:

Be kind to yourself. Writing is hard, it’s lonely sometimes, especially when people don’t seem to interact with the content that you are making. But please don’t be disheartened, don’t let it destroy the enjoyment that you have for writing, that you have for escaping into other worlds, about learning more about them through the act of writing. Writing is something that takes practice, that needs to be nurtured. However, you can only do that if you’re being nice to yourself as well. Remember that you are not a robot, that you do not have to fret too much about the things that you are writing, about getting them out at a certain time, about the fact that you might’ve loved it but there’s no one else saying the same. Though, of course, those things may affect you, and that’s also OK. You are allowed to take the knock, to let it hurt, but as long as you get back up afterwards, rub the dust away and carry on, then you are winning. At the heart of it the writing should be for you. Do it because you want to, because you love it, because you want to get better. Do it because you have stories that need to be told, because there are characters itching for life in the deepest depths of your imagination. Talk to other writers, seek inspiration from things around you. Remember, you are not a robot, so if you want to feel happy or sad about something in particular then let yourself. In the words of Remus Lupin: ‘It is the quality of one’s convictions that determines success, not the number of followers.’

To readers:

Please remember that writers are not robots. There are times when they need that pick me up to remind them why they are doing it. They need support. A kind message here and there might be the difference between someone following their dreams and giving up on them because ‘well, nobody cares.’ If you’re excited to read what happens next, tell writers. They find it difficult to look impartially back on their own work, they are their own worst critics a lot of the time. If you enjoyed a particular line, tell them so. Support them in the act of getting better, give constructive criticism to help with that, support their growth as a writer. Make them remember that they are not alone in what they are doing. So many stories are abandoned because of a lack of reader interaction, and thus a lack of confidence in the work itself. Remember, writers aren’t robots, they’re people who are putting work out there for various reasons – to make people smile, to practice at a craft, to see what people think, to make people think. Remember that they get sad, they get disassociated from the writing itself sometimes, question why they even try. Please, support writers when they get like this, remind them that it is OK to take a break, that you are aware that they can’t write all the time because sometimes that pressure is something that they put on themselves. As Theodore Roosevelt apparently said, ‘I am a part of everything that I have read,’ and to be a reader with the ability to inspire writers is something that is now a possibility, something which could be an amazing relationship if both writers and readers let it.

Daryl, Negan and it's either Abraham, Glenn, Ezekiel, Michonne, Gabriel, Tara, Rick or Jesus

I don't know why, but to me if Dean had a boyfriend, even If they are married, he would uses dude and buddy instant of pet names. Could you write one based on this?

Yeah, I can write one based on this and I’m sorry that this took too long. 

Why These Nicknames?

“Okay, come on! Let’s go!” You yell from the garage, duffel bag in the boot of Baby. “Why does your brother have to take forever? Usually he’s the one telling us to hurry up.”

Your brother-in-law leans his body against the door frame. “I believe he is putting on his clothes.” 

“Great. Dean, move that nice ass of yours!”

On que, your husband walks into the war room with his duffel in hand. “Calm down, dude. And you think I have a nice ass?” he grins.

“You have a hot ass, but it has to go into the seat behind the wheel and drive us to that hotel.”

“I get that it’s our 7th anniversary, but we have time to get there.” He dumps his bag next to yours before shutting the boot.

Footsteps come behind Sam, the three of you having your attention on your four-year-old daughter and golden retriever come into the garage.

“Hey, peanut,” you pick Jo up and rest her on your hip. “Hi, da. Can I come with you and daddy?”

“Sorry, sweetheart, but it’s daddy’s and da’s alone time,” Dean rests his hand at the back of her head. 

Groaning, she rests her head against your shoulder, face mushed against your neck.

“We gotta go now, Jo, but we’ll be back in a few days.”

Groaning again, she moves her body up a bit before blowing a raspberry against your neck. It makes you smile and chuckle.

“Okay, honey, we really gotta go, otherwise da won’t ever leave with daddy.”

“I don’t want da to leave, that’s why I’m doing it.”

Letting Dean take your daughter out of your hands, you say your goodbyes as she gets handed to Sam and you and Dean go into Baby and out of the bunker.

“We’re going to stop at a diner or some shit to get some food before we get there.”

“Sure thing, buddy.”

“Why do you give me those nicknames?”

“Which nicknames?”

“‘Dude’ and ‘buddy’.”

“I never call you those things,” his eyebrows furrow in confusion, looking at you before back at the road.

“Like, a minute ago, you called me ‘buddy’ after I said we’re going to stop at a diner.”

Dean says nothing for a few seconds.

“Shut up.”

stuck in the constant limbo between “really excited about my own writing” and “pretty sure I can’t actually write”

Kitty-zawa - Aizawa x M!Reader

Summary: Aizawa gets hit with a quirk that would turn someone into something they want, so he gets turned into a cat and you take care of him

Knocks at your apartment door have you groaning in annoyance, your head tilted back on the couch’s backrest.

Walking over to the door and opening it with your head to the ground, “I swear to God, if you forgot your keys aga- I’m done with this shit.” 

A deadpan look is expressed on your face as Todoroki, Asui and Deku are at your front door, the green haired boy holding a black cat.

“Hello, Mr. Aizawa.”

“Hello, Midoriya. Tsuyu, Shoto.” You nod at the other two teenagers, who nod back in return. “I have told you, Midoriya, first name for me. And may I ask why you are holding a cat?”

“Uh, well- I- we-”

“Aizawa got hit with a quirk that made him turn into an animal, in this case, a cat. We also bought some things for him” Asui had said for Deku, him thanking his froggy friend. Todoroki hands you the bag full of limited supplies.

You take your husband from Deku’s hands to have the furry head rest against your chest. “Thank you for bringing him home.”

The three nod before leaving the hallway and out of sight as you shut the door. 

Extending your arms out, Aizawa’s body dangles in front of you. 

Everything seems normal except for his head. He still has his face, tired looks, and black, crazed hair, but with the ears on top of his head.

“I have a feeling this is going to last until tomorrow.”

“Meow.”

Giggling, you bring his body towards you to press a kiss to the top of his head.

Resting him in the crook of an arm, you walk to the kitchen to grab the bowl of noodles and back to where you were previously sitting.

From time to time, you’d give some noodles to Aizawa, but most of the time, he’d have his body up against your leg.

Hours after from eating and growing tired, you leave the bowl on the table in front of you whilst waking your husband’s small body up from his sleep.

“Come on, Aizawa, let’s go to the actual bed.”

Getting up and walking to your room, small thuds and footsteps are heard from behind.

You close the bedroom door once he came into the room and hopped onto the bed, his body rested on top of his pillow.

He watches get changed into comfier clothes and putting your phone on charge.

Slipping underneath the covers, you turn onto your side to be eye to eye with the cat.

“You staring is being creepy.” A small bump against your nose has you smile a bit. “Go back to sleep.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Groaning at the sunlight creeping through the small gap through the curtains and onto your face, you blink the tiredness away.

You try to turn to your side, but a weight has you being stuck onto your back.

Glancing down, you see a mop of black hair rested on your chest. You begin to run your hands through the strands.

At least he’s actually sleeping.

Wait.

“Are you naked?”

“No.”

You hold the back of his neck, him groaning in response. “I know when you are lying.” You raise the sheets with your free hand to see that he is, indeed, naked.

“Put the blanket back on. And since when do you have a problem with me being naked?”

“I am not going to answer. And you have to get up to get ready for school.” 

“You do, too.”

“I can’t if you’re on top of me.”

With a hum, he sits on the edge of his side of the bed, the sheets around his waist. You shuffle to sit behind up, cheek pressed against his shoulder.

“You’re cute when you’re extra cuddly, Aizawa.”

“Shut up.”

I feel like dean is the type to say “I adore you” more than “I love you”

I agree. Like from what I remember, he hardly says 'I love you' to anyone. And if he gets himself a partner, he'll show his love rather than saying it