When I think about character designs for my own characters, I pick the things like their role in the story, I name a few of their key ‘issues’ and struggles, I decide how attached I want my readers to be with this character, and then I begin curating a long list of headcanons. (Sometimes I have a death scene in mind, or a name that feels right.)

With this bulleted list of variably niche things my character will do, or would seem within their brand to do, I have an idea of what vibe, what kind of energy they will give off. From there, I begin crafting their personality, and I usually start with the dialogue of how they interact with other characters.

If we’re just flinging ideas out here, here’s a couple of my takes on Jack.

Jack is the overlooked social butterfly, in the way that he wasn’t necessarily social, but so many people from different corners of a campus wanted to be friends with him that he just drifted from one lunch spot to another and listened to people talking to him. He’s not the talkative kind, but he’s quick-witted around other people with sharp tongues. He played one sport for a while, but quit when his friend did. Since then he’s let his hair grow out a bit so the little kids at the local preschool can put butterfly clips and make little pigtails. He lets them practice their hairstyles on him. He gets headaches from overly sweet fragrances like vanilla air fresheners and cheap citrus candles, but he loves lavender and musky colognes. He'll readily pretend to be someone's boyfriend in a pinch, but flirting with him under that excuse is so easy to read. He messes with teachers if he knows they’ll blame someone else for his nonsense, and he would wear eyeliner to places no one will recognize him. He knows he looks good, but it’s too much to deal with for anyone more than a stranger. He can come off as distant and passive, but he's really just lived too long to get attached to people that easily. Half the time he's aloof and absorbing everything around him, but I get the feeling he's not lost in thought. It's almost like he sees things he knows he shouldn't.

Alternatively:

He simultaneously has a god complex and an inferiority complex. His cockiness and confidence sometimes rubs people the wrong way, but those who put up with him and show their affection in unconventional ways know he embodies ‘fake it ‘til you make it.’ (His closest friend is always mean to him). He’s charming the way a dog is handsome after a haircut; a little confused, but he knows something’s special about him. His hair is stripped from pool chlorine or sea salt, yet it still shines like silk when he gives a damn and a half. There’s this clunky ring he prizes and wears on a necklace sometimes, but he’s never put it on his finger. He has his reasons, but he says the gold metal clashes with his skin’s undertones no matter how he styles it. Gold? People believe him when he grins like that, of course. When he fails, he fixates on it and drills himself half to death until he can show how much he’s learned from it. That's what makes him good at sports and pronouns. Sometimes when he's lost in repetition, you'll hear him muttering some indecipherable, foreign language like he's in a trance. Call out to him though and he'll reset to his usual prince self in a blink.

Also Alternatively:

He read "Stargirl" for an assignment once and used it as the basis for his aesthetic for almost a decade. He did weird shit like brew coffee with sparkling water, color in strands of his hair with sharpie every other week, and tape his paper together instead of using a stapler. At some point, when he moved from one school to another he completely changed his style and taste. Maybe he found a new book he liked. His actions screamed 'don't look at me' but his trendsetter style contradicted that. It almost looked like he was perpetually on a runway with the way he would rather be caught dead than leaving the house unphotogenic. It was effortless yet intentional, random yet measured, and editorial but candid. When he spoke, it was all quotable. If it wasn't caption worthy, it was ASMR material for sure. Despite that radical change, he still acted the same, for the most part. It was quirky now because he was like a model, but the fucker probably cleans pennies and turns bar soap into liquid soap on weekends still. Some cool kid he is. Rumor has it he has this crazy tattoo on him. Some people say it's huge, others said it was small dainty. No one can agree on where it is on him, not even the boys who used to see him in the locker room. Most people agree it's black and white, but I could've sworn I'd seen some color on it. He must have multiple tattoos then, since the one I've seen was on the back of his head where his hair hides it when it's grown a bit. He insists there's only one, but who really knows? Maybe it moves and changes, haha. maybe.

Hello hello! I have absolutly no idea what to write to introduce myself. Here's the basics:

- Cannot spell to save my life

- Christian (though I don't like advertising this fact (woo negative stereotypes))

- Art, writing and creating too many characters for no real reason are my pastimes (Also reading either 18th century novels or going on an AO3 spiral that lasts for weeks.)

- Trying to think what else to write here.

- Hmmmmmmm.

- Currently (had to look up the spelling for that word(thanks, self doubt & abysmal (how can I spell abysmal but not currently??) spelling)) listening to Rob Cantor

- I write more emotion than I usually emote in person.

- What else?

- I think that stars are amazing

- I love animals, especially mythical ones

- Not sure what else to add, but I'd love to chat!

- ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Hi there! I heard you were looking for a friend, and I'm always happy to be one. :) I should probably get the statistics out of the way first. I'm a twenty-something Gen Z black female who is in her fourth year of college. I go by AJ. Don't really have a preference as far as pronouns, but people don't like when you say "surprise me" in response to that. Google thinks I'm super liberal though I'm not nearly as vocal or passionate as the other people it lumps into that category. I tend to have an out of the box outlook on politics (i.e. buying Mexico and creating a SuperAmerica, sending all world leaders to some island to fight instead of going to war, giving abandoned houses to homeless people and teaching them handiness tools so they can at least get manual labor jobs/earn a stipend, etc.), but I also don't really care where my taxes go and like helping people, so I guess I'm liberal.

I voted for Biden, I work several minimum wage jobs to support my various fast food cravings, I hate Patriot and Steelers fans with a burning passion. I have been to a Catholic school, once wanted to convert to Islam, have a rather religious extended family (I believe they're Episcopal if that helps) though my immediate family only steps foot in a church when someone dies. I will probably not bitch about quarantine because that was so two years ago, don't know the words to the Pledge of Allegiance (though the anthem has been my favorite song to sing since I was a kid), and have no desire to be converted to whatever school of thought you belong to. People tend to get preachy with these kinds of things, but I'm only like that when prompted.

With all that out of the way, I love reading. I have loved books since I learned to read when I was three. My favorite genres are mystery and history, I love comic books (X-Men in particular), and the world is probably about to end if I'm reading a romance novel. I love kids' books, and middle-grade books are my favorite genre to write (though I do love a good swear word). I tend to write those annoyed with everything lead female characters that are 10-16, though I'm trying to grow up a bit. I don't write male characters often because I don't like writing inauthentic characters and I feel like my male voice sounds like a woman who is supergluing every male she can think of together and hoping it sounds like a person. Needless to say, I don't write characters that aren't realistic.

When I'm not staring at a blank screen and reminding myself I have to write today, I watch YouTube. Like, a disgusting amount of YouTube. I quit social media when I was in my freshman year and YouTube and I became very close. Now that I have all but abandoned my previous sentiment, YouTube is like the husband I've been married to for twenty years that I would never leave but just don't like. Plus, I've gotten off of Tumblr and Facebook and upgraded to Instagram and Twitter. If you're not well-versed in social media, it's the equivalent of graduating from the angsty weirdness of middle school to the cutthroat drama of high school. If you're still in either high school or middle school, you have my sympathy. Believe me, it ends.

In the event that we began to talk, expect a lot of facts. I'm like a walking Jeopardy! board. (I religiously watched Jeopardy every day since I was born, but without Alex Trebek, I don't know if that'll still be the case.) I've been researching history for about two years, so I spout a lot about that nowadays. I am well-versed in science, and will probably tell you the weird shit people did in the 1800s (like pee on frogs to see if they were pregnant - side note, it was very accurate, but the frogs now have problems). I've been told I'm funny (not by people that are closest to me though; in fact, they say the opposite). I really don't like being called sassy though. It's a whole thing.

That's all I've got. I've never been good at selling myself, so I don't know if you'd be interested, but in the case that you are, you can always message me. I'm around all the time at the most ungodly hours (which I think means I'm a sinner, but I learned that in elementary school). If you've made it this far, thanks for giving me a chance and have a great holiday season! :) [By the way, I love smiley faces. They're the best invention ever.]

The Government comes and goes at will,

Claiming the parents are mentally ill.

Only to be raised by another,

Never mentioned again, never embraced by their Father or Mother.

A tiny head bursting forth.

A loud cry held in for months.

Tiny lungs breathing. Tiny eyes squinting.

A mother's pain subsiding at the joy of holding such a babe.

And, to think, I almost never was.

A woman travailing in unknown ailment.

A doctor providing medicine that shouldn't be.

At the discovery of why, it appeared too late.

The words slid from his lips; "Abort it."

So, you see, I almost never was.

A persistent new mother and father saying: "No."

A couple embracing the idea of parenthood.

An attorney advising to hope for the worst-

To have a valid case of malpractice.

Apparently, I almost never was.

A world plotting to kill an innocent life.

A basket of fruit uneaten.

A rollercoaster ride turned down.

Budding young love fighting to protect an even younger sprout.

A shame to think I almost never was.

But, at long last, a healthy girl.

Defying killers' endeavors since fetal state.

A miracle at first breath,

And still defying odds today.

And, to think, I almost never was.

You are the reason

I paint with words

Palette of delicacies,

divine

Pouring the life

into landscape’s verse

Staining pearl-white

with blackberry wine

Visions of rhythm

in eyes of myrrh

Tasting sugar, sweet,

rhymed with salt

Sating my soul,

sipping milk of mirth

Ferment’ language’s

syrup ’til malt

You are the reason

I wake up every day.

No. Reset.

You are the reason

I get out of bed.

I wake up

because I’m not dead yet,

but I get up

I eat, drink, bathe

I cook, clean, run errands

I read, write, sing, dance

I listen to music

I laugh at jokes

I work

at being

the type of person

of whom you can be proud

someone

you want to be around and

share moments of your life.

You are the reason

I grab the phone

every time I hear

your ringtone

or a text notification,

the reason

I smile

the moment I open my eyes

ready to start the day,

ever joyful simply

because you are.

Why can’t I think of anything to say? Everything I want to say has already been said. You’re so ugly, and fat, and untalented. They took the words out of my mouth.

Why are you so useless? They say with the expression I would’ve made when I look at you. Everything is your fault, you’re the fake one here. They think but it’s you against them.

You are the reason you’re (I’m) a failure.

you are the reason i have been in therapy for the last two years.

two years. to stop flinching every time someone is around,

to stop losing sleep over the nightmares.

it took two years to undo what you broke inside of my heart.

and finally, it no longer feels like it will take the rest of my life

putting it back together.

i am so sorry that you were taught that love means threats, that love needs violence.

i hope one day someone teaches you that love should bring

peace to your heart, because you so desperately need to heal.