I got this idea from YourLocalAlien. She made a post like this a while ago and I thought it was a super good idea. If you are reading this, hi!

#1

Example: She is wearing a green shirt, a red jacket and black cargo pants. Her brown hair is about shoulder length, and she is fidgeting with it as she glances around nervously. She has a brightly colored bag on her hip, with a long strap over her shoulder. It is patterned with toucans and jungle leaves and her earbuds are hanging out of the side pocket. Her brown eyes catch sight of a bird and she watches carefully as it flits around the leaves overhead.

*just try to write about yourself as though you were a character in a book who the main character meets while doing errands, or something !

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    #2

    She has shiny brown eyes that are hidden behind a pair of purple-framed glasses. She’s wearing a pair of old pajamas and a grey beanie on her head which her dad brought from Australia. She has a tablet in front of her which she’s using to type on bored panda and occasionally switches apps to draw comics. She pauses every few minutes to strain her ears to make sure that she’s not the only one awake. She’s feeling comforted by the presence of her 3 favourite stuffed animals next to her on the bed and adjusts the blanket so that they don’t feel too cold.

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    #3

    they focus on the task at hand, blue-grey eyes alert and eyebrows raised at the kids around them, maybe occasionally brushing away a few stray hairs from their forehead or adjusting their rose gold-colored glasses. they are sporting the classic theatre kid outfit, complete with a shirt from this year's one act play and cuffed jeans, along with black boots. their hair is braided and secured on the back of their head with a black and white butterfly claw clip, and their eyeliner makes their eyes even more piercing.

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    #4

    A non binary person who looks very much like a boy, who’s name is Nico, even though that’s not his real name. He wears the same clothes he always wears and probably never washes them. A black hoodie and black sweatpants. His hair decided to be good today so he has the confidence to step at least four feet out his bedroom door.

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    #5

    She had layered dark-brown hair that was so dark, it sort of looked pitch black. Sometimes it was curly, and sometimes it was straight. She only straightened it because everyone else did. When she walked in the room, everyone could smell her freshly sprayed-on perfume that she had anxiously worn, hoping someone would notice and think, “ooh, she smells good. Isn’t that cool? Let’s be friends with her.” But sadly, that was not the case. It was clear it wasn’t her natural smell, it was just a cover-up. That was the same reason for her annoying gum-chewing addiction, for she always had a packet of mentos in her pocket. She was wearing a red hoodie that she only wears once a week. She would never wear the same jacket at school for two days straight, or else that would be uncool. She sat down by her friends and waved, smiling nervously, laughing for absolutely no reason, and showing off the braces that she hated so much. When she closed her mouth promptly, it was apparent that she had a slight overbite, and she anxiously attempted to cover it up with the sleeve of her red hoodie. When she raised up her hand, she made sure everyone saw the ring placed on her index finger, and they would compliment her and decide to be friends with her because she seemed cool. But that wasn’t reality. It was just a dream. No one really cared, and she knew it. She knew she wasn’t wearing that ring to feel good about herself. She was wearing it to impress others. She began to chew on her fingernails, hinting the fact that she was an absolute mess with a shattered self-esteem. The rest of her so-called friends chatted about boys and their hot dates, about their social media apps and their brand new Chanel bags and their Dior and Nike platform shoes. She stayed silent - she wasn’t allowed to talk to boys, she was an introvert and had no social life, she wasn’t allowed to have any social media apps, and her parents believed expensive bags and shoes weren’t worth it. She had given up trying, and she just sat and listened to what she was missing out on, and she felt worthless. However, upon remembering all the pandas in her phone, supporting her and believing in her, cheering her on and encouraging her, her lips curved into a smile. Life was hard, but she knew she make it.

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    #6

    She sits in history class, pretending to pay attention as the teacher rambles on and on about pennies and ships and the Renaissance. She is wearing pale pink bike shorts and a magenta jacket because the classroom is always cold. All they want to do is sleep, but they know that they need to keep their hazel eyes open, so as to not fall asleep in class. Nervously adjusting her position, she fiddles with her dirty blond hair.

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    #7

    She ran her fingers over the cards, her brow furrowed in concentration. She already knew where her classmate's card was, she had known since the beginning of the trick, but she had a reputation to uphold.

    She had done nothing to dissuade the rumors of her supposed magical abilities, in fact she had encouraged them. Her elegant, flowing black skirt and lace tights did help her image as the resident "witch," as did the scuffed doc martens, but they did clash a bit with the oversized leather jacket and pin-covered military-style messenger bag. The look was pulled together by the heavy black eyeliner smudged around her blue-grey eyes, streaked slightly in the corners as if she'd been crying.

    Her many bracelets clinked together as she eliminated another row of cards. A small crowd of teens had gathered around her desk by this point, eagerly waiting with bated breath to see if this card trick would be just as good as the previous. 'Teenagers,' she thought to herself, rolling her eyes as if she herself wasn't just another high-school student desperate for attention from her peers.

    She tucked a strand of her long, blondish brown hair behind her ear calmly. Her fingers brushed the surface of the desk as she reached for the cards, chipped black nail polish standing out harshly against the false wood grain. She glanced up at her audience, smiling slowly.

    "Is this your card?"

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