If you're writing anything involving cons, scams, heists, or morally questionable characters who are very good at lying, here are some free resources I've been using for research. Saving you the "why is this in my search history" anxiety.
1. The FBI's Famous Cases & Criminals archive (fbi.gov/history/famous-cases) has detailed breakdowns of real fraud cases, Ponzi schemes, and confidence operations. The language they use is clinical and precise, which is perfect for getting the procedural details right.
2. The FTC Consumer Sentinel Network publishes annual reports on the most common fraud tactics in the US. Great for understanding how modern scams actually work and what makes people fall for them.
3. The Smithsonian's American Art Museum has a free digital collection of forgery case studies. If your character forges documents or art, this is gold.
4. Court Listener (courtlistener.com) is a free legal database where you can read actual court transcripts from fraud trials. Want to know how a real con artist talks under oath? This is where you find out.
5. The Internet Archive's collection of old newspaper crime sections. Search for "confidence man" or "swindle" in papers from the 1920s through 1960s and you'll find incredible real stories that would feel too dramatic for fiction.
Bonus: The Psychology of Fraud section on the Association for Psychological Science website has accessible articles about why people trust, how deception works cognitively, and what makes someone a convincing liar. Essential reading if you want your con artist characters to feel psychologically real.
Reblog to save for later. Your WIP will thank you.
if a kaeluc is saying its somehow progressive to ship kaeluc because 'its gay and china hates the gays' show them this
and then if they say 'its not incest' send them the quotes post ive done (https://www.tumblr.com/lesbianluc/747216882041503744/kaeya-is-adopted-links?source=share) and how its normalized to ship (nonbiological) incest in east asia
kaeluc always has been incest, the real kaeluc fans know and admit this
art block is your brain telling you to do studies.
draw a still life. practice some poses. sketch some naked people. do a color study. try out a different technique on a basic shape.
art block doesnt stop you from drawing, it stops you from making your drawings look the way you want them to. and thats because you need to push your skills to the next level so you can preform at that standard
As a scientific illustrator- this is 100% true and going to review your basics will fix it every goddamn time. Not only does it keep your skills sharp, when youâre not emotionally invested in the final product of a piece, you relax and your brain makes more/better art juice for you. So, when you get back to that big/important piece? Youâll know what to do and how to do it.
Nothing in nature blooms all year round. Rest, and take care of yourself.
Write a description of an object. write the weather today. Write a made up characterization of a random photo of an actor from the internet as to the character they are in that picture. Write a little story about your petâs day. Write about spilling soup and make it super dramatic and tragic. Write about someoneâs day being ruined and make it funny. Write a meetcute coffeeshop AU of two OCs youâd never put together- maybe from different stories. Write them breaking up.
Write a bunch of short stuff meant for no audience ever and super duper self indulgent.
I found out relatively recently that it really helps if I write short fiction surrounding the novels I write. Like oh? Iâm stuck for a bit? Ooh there was that section I wanted to explore but doesnât fit in the plot really. There was that what-if that could never happen in the actual story but would be fun to explore. It keeps me in the charactersâ headspace (tho thatâs not always what Iâm needing) but not right where they are exactly.
Yes! I have gotten past writersâ block multiple times by writing drabble collections. Making something coherent happen in just 100 words is a very different challenge from writing a long story and it also lets me get past plot points that I donât want to explore in-depth.
I am also going to have to start drawing studies nowâŠ
The first night in the partyâs shared tent right out of Junon, Yuffie had to keep herself from giggling and kicking her feet.
A party of seven whole suckersâall of âem just loaded with Materia and conveniently already going after Shinra. And they were hunting for something called Huge Materia! Yuffie didnât know exactly what that was, but it had to be good. She couldnât believe her luck. All she had to do was bide her time until she could make off with their Materia and then it would be a straight shot down to Free-Wutai-ville.
It really was a shame that they were all such miserable pills.
Tifa was the bestâor, maybe, the least worstâof the bunch. She was nice enough, a spectacular fighter and close in age to Yuffie, but acted like she had decades on her, which was kinda lame. But she was the only one who ever bothered to ask Yuffie how she was doing, how she was settling in, if she needed anything. She did the same for everyone, even though Yuffie thought it was unfair that it fell on her when there were grown-ass adults in the group. Like, middle-aged grown-ass adultsânot that Yuffie knew exactly how old Barret and Cid were, but it was pretty obvious.
Anyway, as lame as it was for Tifa to mother-hen everyone, she was better when she did than when she didnât. Most days there came a moment when they all had time to relax, maybe after dinner but before going to bed, or while they waited for something, when nobody really needed anything from Tifa. And that was the exact moment Yuffie watched her shrivel up. She retreated to the side lines, looking small and unsure on her feet like sheâd gone from mother hen to lost ducklingâyeah, changing species with how sharp the change was. Her wine-red eyes darted around the group, apprehensively looking for something. Whatever it was, she never seemed to find it and her gaze inevitably dropped to her hands in her lap, pensive and forlorn.
Once or twice, Yuffie had tried joining her, even if just out of boredom, but she always found an impenetrable wall of strained pleasantries and polite chuckles at Yuffieâs hilarious jokes. Well, she knew where she wasnât wanted. If Tifa wanted to brood by herself in the evening, she could go knock herself out.
Barretâs main redeeming quality was his burning hatred for Shinra. Yuffie could certainly relate to that. And, hey, at least he wasnât quiet about it. His rants and outbursts were a welcome change of pace from the gloomy torpor of the rest of the group. He and Yuffie were the only ones who ever seemed to raise their voices at all, with all of their attempts to rile up the others falling on unenthusiastic ears. And, like, Yuffie knew they were all invested in their missionâsheâd seen them all in a fight, after allâbut where was the passion? The righteous anger? Barret was the only one whose blood still ran hot.
Maybe too hot. Because the man never really talked about anything else. And, yeah, Yuffie hated Shinra just as much if not more, but she had other interests too! Like Materia, or Chocobos, or Huge Materiaâwhatever it was. But Barret only had one setting: âfuck Shinra.â And hell yeah, fuck Shinra, but did he ever turn that off? It was like his hatred for the company was a glass vase he held in both handsâif he ever let go, itâd shatter. Or maybe he would. He only ever relaxed around Tifa, when heâd help her with the cooking and both of them would let some tension leave their shoulders as they quietly worked side by side.
Other than the objectively correct Shinra hatred, Barret was kind of unbearable. Tense, short-tempered, bossy, preachy, single-minded. Once, Yuffie had tried asking Tifa how they tolerated it, only to get a frown and a donât be mean in response. Yuffie wasnât trying to be mean, honest, she just wanted to know what the hell was up with that guy. There was something⊠unspoken about him. Something he was holding back, no matter how much she asked and poked and prodded. Something that made it a coin toss to even breach the issue, where the results were either explosive anger or gloom.
It had taken three full days for Yuffie to realise that the red-furred cat-dog-lion-thing could talk. Sheâd honestly assumed he was a pet, probably Cloudâs or Tifaâs given how much time he spent around them. But no, Redâor Nanaki, but he didnât seem to like it much when she called him thatâcould talk. He just wouldnât, most of the time. When he did, he was formal and distant, like he was a billion years old and far above the struggles of humans. But then, Yuffie would see him wander up to Tifa in the evening and let her bury her face in his fur. Or maybe heâd nudge Cidâs leg while he worked on something and the man would stop in his tracks and take a deep breath. Or heâd join Cloud as he invariably took first watch at night.
But those were fleeting moments; most of the time, Red kept a steady pace at the groupâs front, with his tail grimly swishing behind him. Sometimes, as the moon rose in the evening, heâd find some higher ground and sit for a while in silent contemplation. With Yuffie, when he finally deigned to speak to her, he was curt and formal, utilitarian at best. She would ask him about his home in Cosmo Canyonâand about all the cool Materia a bunch of Planetologists were sure to be hoardingâand get monosyllables and grunts in response. Whenever he iced her out like that, Yuffie looked at the glint cast by the Materia slotted in his collar and remembered her purpose.
The groupâs resident mechanic, Cid, made Yuffie think that heâd been much livelier once. There was a trace of gruff humour in him that felt like an obligation, like a shadow of what it used to be. Whenever they werenât marching or fighting or hiding from Shinra, Cid was tinkering with something and muttering under his breath. Never still, never quiet, never not smoking. The smell followed him everywhere, and it was starting to seep into Yuffieâs hair and clothes as well, much like the general air of gloom.
Cid wasnât hostile or irritable with her, but that wasnât saying much. He spoke as if he was on autopilot, like he was reading out lines written by somebody else. Every once in a while, he would shake his head and straighten up, then clap Vincent on his shoulder or ruffle Cloudâs hair or respond in kind to Barretâs pep-talksâbut he would do it mechanically, like it didnât come naturally anymore. And the icy glares he received in return were enough to make him drop the act. He seemed relieved anyway.
Yuffie resented the fact that a talking cat robot riding a giant stuffed Moogleâalso a robotâwasnât any fun at all either. Cait Sith was the first party member sheâd tried to approach once the general vibes had caught up with her, only to find him already turned off for the night while everyone else was just starting to eat dinner. He was switched off most of the time, actually, only really coming around whenever they were on the move or if there was a fight on the horizon. Yuffie had no idea how he knew when to wake up, but heâd never missed. When he even bothered to stick around, he tended to keep away from the rest of the group, taking on menial tasks like setting up camp or gathering firewood. It seemed to be mutual: the others didnât really seem to want much to do with him either. Yuffie was pretty sure sheâd heard Barret mutter something about a goddamn traitor through his teeth once.
Cait Sith was the only one who hadnât completely dodged her questionsâonly mostly. To Yuffieâs routine hey, whatâs goinâ on with you guys? heâd simply shaken his head and said, itâs all my fault, lass. Which, okay, cool, not what sheâd asked, but it was something at least. Something that Cait Sith hadnât elaborated on; heâd bounced away immediately and had turned off by the time Yuffie had found him again.
Vincent was even quieter than Red. Yuffie thought sheâd heard his voice maybe three or four times, and even then just to give short answers that deterred any attempt at further conversation. It was kinda creepy, to be honest. He was this red-n-black figure hovering at the edges of their merry band, haunting the premises like a goddamn ghost. Yuffie was a ninja, practically built for stealth and sneakiness. And yet, Vincent had managed to surprise her more than a few times, apparently by just appearing out of thin air next to her. He always wore a neutral expression on his face, barely ever reacting to anything around him. Yuffie wasnât convinced he was human all the way down.
The only time he had appeared human to Yuffie was when that impassible mask had slipped a bit. Theyâd been taking a break on the edges of a pretty flower field, just outside of Gongaga. Everyone was tenser than usual, quieter, even more miserable. Vincent had stood among the flowers for a long while, a dark blotch against the vibrant colours. Then, heâd bent down and plucked a single yellow one, holding it out to his chest for a moment before letting it fly off with the breeze. Yuffie had no idea why, but something about the gesture had made Tifa tear up and Cid avert his gaze with a pained grimace. So, maybe, there was a human person in there somewhere.
And then there was Cloud.
Yuffie kinda hated being around Cloud.
He was a SOLDIER, which was already a bad start in her books, but what was even more unsettling than his Mako-infused stare was the⊠misery radiating from him. Yuffie couldnât give it a better description. It was like he was filled with something painful and intense, something that was eating him alive and that would eat everyone else around him as soon as it was done with him. Maybe it was anger at that Sephiroth guy. Maybe it was some old grief or grudge. Maybe it was guilt about something. Maybe all three.
Or maybe it was venom, impure and simple, and Cloud wasnât really human either. He was soft-spoken and practical-minded, but whenever Sephirothâs name came up it was laced with so much pure hatred that Yuffie thought it was a miracle neither of them had dropped dead yet. That acid was corroding Cloud from the inside, she was almost sure of it. What she was completely sure of was that he was a black hole, a single point of negativity capable of dropping the temperature whenever he stepped inside a room, of silencing anyone, of bending reality around his bad moods. It was kind of impressive, kind of annoying, kind of scary.
It spread to the rest of the group as well. The atmosphere shifted on a Gil if Cloud was around, going from sorta-okay to okay, weâre at a funeral. Privately, Yuffie thought it was a little insane to let one miserable bastard dictate the emotions of an entire group. However, she felt it too.
And so they went on, grimly marching and fighting and deriving zero joy from giving Shinra the finger, which should have been impossible.
Yuffie didnât get it at all.
Something had clearly happened to turn this party of would-be world saviours into such a depressing bunch. And she had tried to figure it out, to make it better. After all, she had to breathe that same air and she didnât want to catch the blues herself. But nobody would speak of it. It was like they were carrying something other than weapons and tents and Materia with them; a screeching void that sapped them of colour and energy and laughter. Yuffie could see how it was hurting them, but they all seemed dead set on holding tight to that void.
Well, whatever. Yuffie was only there to steal their Materia, anyway. It sure as hell wasnât her job to play therapist.
And then they went to Cosmo Canyon.
Yuffie lazily studied the knickknacks and baubles in BugenhagenâsâRedâs grandfather!? Huh!?âlaboratory as he droned on about the Planet and memories and wisdom.
I remember Aerith a lot.
Cloudâs voice cut through the room, so soft and tender Yuffie almost hadnât realised it was his. It had taken a new tone: mournful, quiet, a little wistful. Everyone around them stilled, their faces twisted in pain.
Aerith.
Yuffie had never heard that name before. But she was the only one, and suddenly the void had a name. Aerith.
She learned some things about this person in the conversation that followed. A woman. A friend. An Ancient. Nobody thought to explain things to her, but she was busy studying her teammates anyway. Cloud had a strange expression on his face: he looked grief-stricken, but his eyes were brighter than Yuffie had ever seen themâand not in the creepy SOLDIER way. They looked almost relieved, as if talking about this Aerith person was healing somehow.
The others werenât doing any better. Tifa and Cid were misty-eyed. Barret and Vincent stoically stared forward with their jaws clenched. Red and Cait Sith had their gazes fixed to the floor.
And, for the first time, Yuffie felt that void touch her as well, suddenly aware of the empty space in their group. It was cold.
After Cosmo Canyon, it was like something had unlocked in her teammates. As though Cloud using her name had given them all permission, they started talking about Aerith. In the past tense.
She loved flowers.
She was funny.
She never learned to swim.
She wanted to come back to this place.
She would have liked you.
Little things but, bit by bit, they started to fill up that yawning abyss that was a constant fixture in the party. Aerith was Tifaâs closest friend. Sheâd saved Barretâs daughter. She had understood Red better than anyone. Cid had taught her to drive a little. Cait Sith had betrayed her trust. Vincent had earned it slowly.
And CloudâŠ
Cloud had been in love with her. Still wasâit was painfully clear in everything he did and said, in the picture he kept safely tucked in an inner pocket of his backpack, in how talking about her was both killing him and saving his life.
Suddenly, all the questions Yuffie had about her teammates had answers. Painful ones, but she could finally see the giant open wound that sheâd been missing in all of them, the gaping hole following their every step. She snuck a peek at Cloudâs picture one night: a selfie of the two of them, taken in Cosmo Canyon maybe. Aerithâs grin was wide and warm, and her eyes sparkled with excitementâenough to get even Cloud to crack half a smile.
As if heâd been summoned by the photo, he cleared his throat behind Yuffie. Whatâre you doing? She spun around, ready for an explosion as she apologetically held it out to him. But Cloud just sighed as he delicately took it. He looked at it for a moment, absently thumbing at its edges before shaking his head and putting it back in its pocket. He only glanced at Yuffie once before walking offâno hostility, just a glance. Blank, tired, empty.
Yuffie was hit by a wave of second-hand grief for the girl who would never smile like that again. For the girl she would never meet and who would never reunite with her friends.
The rush of emotion surprised her; then she was surprised again when she realised sheâd barely even thought about the partyâs Materia since sheâd heard her name.
Yuffie thought of Aerithâs eyes again. Sheâd loved flowers. Sheâd loved the sea. Sheâd loved her friends.
Donât worry, she thought. Iâll take care of them.
Even though sheâd never met her, Yuffie missed Aerith too.
canonicity has ruined ships in a way that people nowadays only want their ships to be canon for the sake of it being ârealâ to shut others up in shipping discourse and not ask deeper questions of how their ship is integral to the plot and for the characters themselves
if youâre pulling shit from your ass then it has to be fucking solid. the story can tell you which characters have romantic tensions from narrative beats and which ones donât
So tell me what yâall think of the following concept: a FF7 otome where you play as Aerith and you get to choose between 4 love interests: Tseng, Zack, Sephiroth, and Cloud.
Tseng: The calm, older brother type who is protective and nurturing. Tseng always lived life by the rules, but something deep inside him yearns to break free. What can a man do when heâs stuck between the call of duty and the call of the heart?
Zack: The sweet, puppy-like little brother type whoâs full of excitement. A true romantic, Zack wonât hesitate to shout his love from the rooftops and pull out all the stops. The only thing he needs is the chance to be a hero.
Sephiroth: The dangerous one, the mysterious one, the enemy. Sephirothâs heart is as hard as his soul is black. But if the deepest darkness can be conquered, then perhaps even a monster can learn how to be a man.
Cloud: Though he may seem quiet and hesitant on the outside, his silence masks a deep storm. Cloud is a ball of contradictionsâ taciturn but passionate, cynical yet innocent, valiant in battle but terrified of love. Hiding in his shell, waiting for someone to pull him into the light.
pixelskylines
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