missing charles xavier from first class like a bitch rn
I deserve love. I deserve to feel adored. I deserve kind words and sweet gestures. I deserve gentle kisses and warm hugs. I deserve the love he gives to me. We deserve the best of each other.
So you want to make an OC?: A Masterpost of Ways to Create, Develop, and Make Good OCs!
i made this masterpost in hopes that it helps you in making your own OCs ah;; it can also apply to developing RP characters i suppose! if you’d like to add more resources then go for it sugar pea (´ヮ`)!
EDIT (10/16/18): edited my disclaimer (below) before diving into the huge chunk of information here! also included new resources and links to writing disabled and nonbinary characters. happy researching! <3
1. i made this post when i was like 14? 15? so as such: the information researched here is very, very old. a lot of it, imo, is no longer relevant! especially with language use (ESPECIALLY if you’re reblogging the old version of the post that had links to an article about gender/sexuality. i’ve removed that. i’ve removed also the mary sue/gary stue chunk because my values have changed since) the point is, the resources here will not always fit in with what we need as time goes on.
2. these resources are not law!! i made this post because i was and still am very passionate about ocs. this resource was intended to be a sounding board for when u have ideas you want to further delve into and you’re not entirely sure where to begin. it’s not the only resource out there, and sometimes, the best sounding board will be you!!! follow ur heart. ocs are fun. this post was never, ever meant to tell you how to write your own characters but help broaden ur knowledge if u found urself limited in an area (this was first made with a white, abled, cishet audience in mind!)
3. i’ve gotten some great notes and commentary on this post and things i want to explore more since making this post roughly 5 years ago. things are very, very different. i have better resources for a LOT of these, and have more i want to tack on! but i simply can’t find the time for it, so until I do: i’ve removed a lot of links here that i found harmful and irrelevant to today, but i haven’t combed through all of them and can’t lead you to what i think is best. research yourselves! you’ll learn lots.
4. and in closing, thanks for reading! this a/n got off on a tangent so that’s that, LMAO. go forth and develop your ocs!!! and tell me about them!!! or tell me if you have fresh sources or a better perspective or just wanna call me out. this post is 100% open to criticism because it’s imperative to keep growing and learn as much as possible and be as whole and mindful as possible. this world is full of diverse, incredible creators who have contributed so much to telling their stories. let their knowledge guide you, not a silly post made 5-6 years ago. <3
How to Write Better OCs:
basic tips on how to make your oc even better
tragic backstory? learn how to write one/make yours great
writing specific characters
a wordier, great guide on how to develop your character
kick out those vague descriptions and make them AWESOME
Character Development:
how to actually make an OC
Q&A (to develop characters)
more Q&As
giving your character a backstory
how to write an attractive character
Diversity
adding more racial diversity
masterpost on writing more diversity into your story
cultures of the worldguides to drawing different ethnicities (not just a great art reference, but also really helpful in appearance descriptions!)
disability resources: fuckyeahcharacterdevelopment: writing disabled characters, disability-writing-advice, actuallyblind, cripplecharacters
nonbinarycharacter blog! (huge thanks to @writersshock for this and the following resources to writing nb characters!)
6 tips for writing genderqueer & nb characters
writing nonbinary characters: a primer
Villains
villain generator
need an evil sounding name for your evil character? bam
villain archetypes
what’s your villain’s motive for being a villain?
Relationships
character perceptions (What your character thinks of themselves and what others think of them)
how to write strong relationships between two characters
8 ways to write better characters and develop their relationships with others
OCxLove Interest Handbook
develop your couple with good ol’ Q&A!
how to write realistic relationships
how to write relatives for your characters (this is more OC related to a canon character, but will help in writing family members in general)
ARCHETYPES
12 common archetypes
8 archetypes for male/female characters
female archetypes (goes pretty indepth from two main categories)
a list of archetypes
NAMES
how to name your character
random name generator
most common surnames
surnames by ethnicity
APPEARANCE
tips for better design
basic appearance generator
pinterest board for character design (includes NSFW and images of skeletons/exposed muscle (?) so tread carefully!)
clothing ref masterpost
DETAILS
give your character better powers
a list of professions
proactive vs reactive characters
positive and negative traits
interest generator
skills generator
motivation generator
123 ideas for character flaws
list of phobias
again, this is to help inspire you or help establish your OCs! i hope you get a lot of info and help from this ahh ( ´ ▽ ` )ノ
artist in denial of being depressed: omg this 2 month long art block has been crazy... sorry i haven't updated any of my fics in a long while! it's just been super difficult to daydream! so weird that i've lost a little bit of passion for my current comfort character and ocs... this couldn't possibly have any implications or alternative explanations
Making a Character Whine in Monologue
I’m a big believer in letting characters bleed quietly. You know, the kind of emotional tension that simmers just under the surface—not the dramatic “I am torn!” speeches. Here’s how I like to sneak internal conflict into my writing without making my characters feel like they belong in a bad soap opera... Have Fun! (。♥‿♥。)
Saying the opposite of what they feel. Like insisting they’re fine while gripping a coffee mug like it personally insulted their ancestors.
Pausing before responding to something simple. Because sometimes the silence says “I’m thinking too hard about this” louder than a whole paragraph ever could.
Changing the subject when things get too close to their emotional soft spot. Classic evasion. Bonus points if they pretend it's for someone else’s sake.
Making choices that contradict their stated goals. "I swear I’m over them"—cut to them rerouting an entire road trip to pass by their ex’s hometown.
Being too nice. Yep. People-pleasing? Avoidance in a trench coat.
Fixating on a tiny, irrelevant detail while avoiding the bigger thing. They can’t deal with their grief, but they can definitely spend 12 minutes lining up pens perfectly.
Snapping at someone they trust—then immediately regretting it. Because pain has to leak out somewhere, and it’s usually not in a convenient monologue.
Doing something “just in case,” but obviously hoping for the opposite. Packing a goodbye gift they never plan to give. Writing a message they never send.
Rewriting memories in their head. “It wasn’t that bad. They didn’t mean it. I probably deserved it.” A spiral in slow motion.
Being hyper-aware of how others are reacting to them. Internal conflict often turns into external paranoia: “Did she flinch? Was I too cold? Did he see that?”
rich husbands who make their whole life about taking care of you.
oh, that necklace you glanced at while at the mall? now you're there trying several other ones on because "they all look perfect on you."
the dress you looked at through that shop window? bought. plus anything else you even remotely wanted.
that snack you crave almost all the time? he almost buys the whole business for you just to have them as often as you'd like. (in moderation of course!)
rich husbands who don't understand why you want to work, and every time you tell them why they simply say:
"i can provide more than enough for the both of us, but go ahead."
rich husbands the second they see you all stressed and tired from that job, call in and quit for you.
and when you try to get up the next morning to go to said job, he ushers you back to bed, lays you down and tells you to "not worry about that pesky job again."
rich husbands who like to make it known to everyone that you're married to him.
buys you the biggest rock you've ever seen adorned on your finger to propose to you, and makes it his routine to see if you have his ring on. (which you always do.)
indirectly flaunts it to passersby's by holding your hand, occasionally picking your hand up to inspect it, and trying not to crack a smile as he hears women gasp, and whisper, "she's one lucky woman."
rich husbands who tell everyone they know about you, whether that be coworkers, family, or random people, he'll always somehow flip the conversation to being about you.
"oh that? my wife is quite fond of it, yes."
"that reminds me of my wife, she quite likes those things. often calling them "cute.""
rich husbands <33
Simon opens his eyes, turning his head slightly to look at you. Your eyes meet his. You lean down to kiss him slowly, softly. When you pull away, Simon speaks, his voice softer now, “I missed this. Just bein’ home, with you.” You smile, a mixture of understanding and love in your eyes. “I missed you too,” you whisper, your fingers tracing patterns on his shoulder.
Simon arrives home after a particularly tough mission
warnings: none
Ghost found himself recovering from a tough mission, his body weary and spirit longing for a moment of solace. He was on his way home, allowed a short-term leave after the mission went successfully. It was by no means an easy mission, it took a toll on him. He felt more exhausted, more drained, than normal. He just wanted a moment of peace, a moment of quiet, where he could just relax.
When he arrived at the front door of your shared apartment, he took a breath. He fumbled with hands for a moment, pulling his keys out and unlocking the door. He calls out your name as he kicks the door shut, setting his things down on the kitchen counter.
You were in the living room, sitting on the couch in your pajamas, engrossed in a book, the soft hum of music playing in the background. Hearing Simon’s voice, you looked up from the pages and a smile bloomed on your face. You spring up from the couch as he walks into the living room. The sight of him, battle-worn but alive, brought a sense of relief.
“Hey there, big man,” you said, your voice a comforting melody. Simon turns towards you, a half-smile forming on his lips. His fatigue seemed to momentarily lift as he looked at the smile on your face.
“Hey,” he replied, the weariness evident in his voice. You closed the distance between you, and he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the residue of whatever he was doing on mission slowly melting away in the comfort of your presence.
“Rough one, huh?” you ask, pulling back slightly to look at him. He nods, his eyes revealing a layer of exhaustion.
“Yeah, tougher than usual,” Ghost admitted. “But we got the job done.”
You led him to the couch, and he sank into it with a sigh, his body appreciating the respite. You disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a glass of water for him. As he took a sip, you studied his features, noting the subtle scars and bruises that adorned his face.
“Anything I can do?” you asked, genuine concern in your voice. Simon shook his head, appreciating the simple offer.
“Just bein’ here ‘s enough,” he replied, setting the glass aside. You sat down beside him, your presence a soothing balm to his aching body. You begin to run your hands down his arms, feeling the tension of his muscles under his clothes.
“Do you want me to run you a bath?” you question softly, running your hands down his arm and to his hand, squeezing it in your grip.
He tilts his head over towards you, eyes drooping slightly.
“Sounds lovely,” he grunts, nodding his head.
You rose gracefully from the couch, giving Simon’s hand a reassuring squeeze before disappearing into the bathroom. You turned the tap, adjusting the water temperature to perfection, adding a hint of soothing helichrysum oil.
Simon, in the meantime, made his way to the bedroom, peeling off his tactical gear and clothes, revealing a body marked by the trials of combat. He finally slips his mask off, folding it neatly on top of his pile of clothes. He took a deep breath as he heard the water cascading into the tub. The scent of helichrysum wafted through the air, a fragrant promise of relaxation.
When everything was ready, you returned to him, gently guiding him towards the bathroom. The steam from the bath enveloped him as he sank into the warm water, the tension in his muscles slowly dissipating. You perch on the edge of the tub, watching him with tenderness and slight concern.
As Simon closed his eyes, surrendering to the comforting embrace of the bath, you dipped a washcloth into the water and began to delicately clean the black paint from around his eyes. The touch of your hands was gentle, a welcome contrast from roughing it on base.
“I appreciate this,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble.
A warm smile appears on your face as you carefully pour warm water over his head, letting it cascade down his hair and down his neck. Simon closes his eyes, feeling the comforting touch of the water against his scalp.
As you began to work shampoo through Simon’s hair, your fingers massaging his scalp, Simon let out a contented sigh. The stress and exhaustion of the mission slowly melted away, replaced by a sense of peace. Your gentle hands made him feel cared for, safe.
“You deserve this,” you replied softly. “Let me take care of you for a change.”
The bathroom was filled with a soothing silence, broken only by the sound of water trickling and your quiet breaths. Your touch is tender, each stroke of your hands carrying a touch of affection. Simon relished in the simplicity of the moment, the way you were so gentle with him.
Simon opens his eyes, turning his head slightly to look at you. Your eyes meet his. You lean down to kiss him slowly, softly.
When you pull away, Simon speaks, his voice softer now, “I missed this. Just bein’ home, with you.”
You smile, a mixture of understanding and love in your eyes. “I missed you too,” you whisper, your fingers tracing patterns on his shoulder.
Once the bath has worked its magic, you help Simon to his feet, helping him wrap a plush towel around his waist. The scent of the bath oil lingered on his skin, a comforting reminder of the care you’d provided for him. The two of you returned to the bedroom, where a set of fresh clothes awaited him.
Simon changed into sweats and a soft t-shirt, a welcome change from his heavy tactical gear. He settles onto the bed, groaning with relief as his back hits the mattress. You giggle as he lays silently in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Just as you’re about to grab a cup of tea, Simon is grabbing your wrist tightly, pulling you back towards the bed.
“‘M sleepy,” he complains. “Can’t sleep very well without you.”
You lean down to kiss him on the cheek, gently pulling your wrist from his grip.
“I’m just going to get you a cup of tea—”
“No, ‘ve already gotten enough princess treatment from you—” he grunts, sitting up from his position to manhandle you into bed with him.
You sigh in defeat, arms coming to wrap around his neck as he pulls you on top of him. His hands travel up from your thighs to your waist, pulling you tight against him. He only removes his hands from you for a quick second to pull the covers up on the bed.
The warmth of the bed enveloped both of you as you settled into the cozy cocoon of blankets. Simon’s weariness was evident, yet his grip on you was firm, as if afraid that if he let go, the world would pull him back into its relentless demands.
You chuckled at his antics, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “You're stubborn, you know that?”
“Only to you,” he replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes, his hands still holding you close.
You snuggled against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the ambient sounds of the night outside. Simon’s exhaustion seemed to ebb away as he held you, finding solace in the simple act of being close.
You traced circles on his chest, your fingers moving rhythmically as if to lull him into a peaceful slumber. Simon’s gaze softened as he looked down at you.
“Y’know,” he began, his voice a gentle murmur, “coming home to you is the best part of any mission.”
Your heart swelled with pride at his words. “And having you here is the best part of my day.”
He smiled, a genuine, tired smile. Simon’s hands traced gentle patterns on your back. The lines of fatigue on his face were replaced by an expression of peacefulness, a quiet acknowledgment that, for now, the battles were outside and the peace was within.
“Tea can wait,” Simon mumbled, his eyes heavy with sleep.
You nodded, snuggling even closer. “Go to sleep, my big sleepy man.”
And with that, the two of you drifted into a peaceful slumber, finding refuge in the sanctuary of your bedroom, happy to be reunited once more.
dating simon riley means constant clinginess. large arms wrapped around your waist at any given moment, simon is most comfortable when he's holding you. after being away from a long mission, he'll find you wherever you are in your shared apartment and silently crawl into your arms like a puppy. he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck, slowly inhaling to bask in your scent that he missed more than anything. with an amused chuckle, you'll wrap your arms around his warm torso, gently rubbing his back. "no hello?" you'll tease, to which you always earn a content hum in response, along with simon's hold tightening ever so slightly.
dating simon riley means lots of playful teasing. if you make a typo in a text message, he'll begin spelling the word as your typo for the rest of the day. if you believed in a silly fact, he'd bring it up for the rest of your life. "this is like when you thought our blood was actually blue" he'd snicker, which would cause you to whine for him to stop and swat his arm.
dating simon riley means constantly being cared for. simon is a man who can do everything, or at least tries to. he somehow manages to get to all the chores before you do, which has ended in you reassuring him that you can handle it many, many times. when doing something potentially dangerous like standing on a ladder, handling a knife or using tools, simon will constantly glance in your direction to make sure something won't slip and injure you. like a spidey sense, he's quick to pull you away or come to your rescue if you're in a situation where you're about to hurt yourself. "you alright?" he'll mumble softly, dark eyes laced with worry that is a rare sight to be seen by anyone else.
dating simon riley means you have a second wardrobe. his large clothes are just too comfortable to resist, and he's often left searching the apartment for a shirt that you had placed amongst your own clothes. though, he makes no effort to steal them back from you, as seeing you in his tshirt, his boxers and his hoodie fills him with a loving possessiveness. he'll walk into the kitchen to see you turned away as you wash dishes, wearing one of his shirts as a short dress. managing to silently sneak behind you even with his bulky frame, he'll wrap his arms around you from behind and place a kiss against the nape of your neck. "you look so pretty in my shirt, love." he'll then purr into your ear.
dating simon riley means seeing a side of him that many never do. whether it be physically or personality wise, you see so much of simon that you can't remember the last time you referred to him as ghost. his large pointy nose, his dirty blonde hair that he always forgets to fix in the mornings, and his lopsided smile that appears when you tell the corniest of jokes are all things that many have never seen and never will. he speaks so softly to you; a low tone that you can feel reverberating in his chest when you lay against him. simon is kind, patient and vulnerable with you, and will mutter the words "i love you" against your lips, just loud enough for only you to hear.
dating simon riley means being friends with the rest of the 141. you were the one who wished to host hangouts at your apartment, wanting those closest to simon to like you. despite their intimidating demeanors, you quickly realized just how kind they were. they know just how important you are to simon, which is a rare feat in itself, so they would never treat you in an ill manner. soap will always refer to you as "the missus" when speaking to simon, which never fails to make you giggle when you overhear their conversations.
masterlist