#nail care market share

[cosmeticsandpersonalcaremarket]

Get Nailed It: Delving into the Booming Nail Care Products Market

Market Size & Share: Painting a Global Picture

The global nail care products market is a flourishing canvas, estimated to reach a staggering US$38.5 billion by 2033, boasting a healthy CAGR of 5.0%. This translates to a vibrant industry catering to the diverse needs and preferences of millions of consumers worldwide. As of 2023, the market already stands at US$22.3 billion, highlighting its significant contribution to the beauty and personal care landscape.

Regional Dominance: Where the Polish Shines Brightest

While the nail care industry enjoys global popularity, regional variations in size and growth paint a captivating picture. Asia Pacific currently holds the crown, accounting for a massive 45% market share in 2023. This dominance is fueled by a booming middle class, rising disposable income, and a strong cultural affinity for nail art. North America follows closely behind with a 30% share, driven by its established beauty industry and diverse consumer base. Europe rounds out the top three with a 20% share, showcasing its sophisticated taste and penchant for high-end brands.

Growth Drivers: Fueling the Nail Polish Frenzy

Several factors propel the nail care market forward:

Rising disposable income: As consumers’ discretionary spending increases, they indulge in non-essential items like nail polish and accessories.

Social media influence: Beauty influencers and celebrities create trends and inspire millions to experiment with different nail looks.

Focus on self-expression: Nail art becomes a canvas for individual style and personalization, driving demand for unique and innovative products.

Increasing emphasis on wellness: Vegan and cruelty-free nail care products gain traction, catering to ethically conscious consumers.

Market Players: The A-listers of the Industry

Sally Hansen: A household name offering a wide range of affordable and trendy nail polishes.

OPI: Known for its high-quality, chip-resistant formulas and unique color collections.

CND Shellac: A leading brand in professional gel polish systems, popular in salons and at home.

Olive & June: A D2C brand offering trendy press-on nails for easy nail art experiences.

Challenges and Opportunities: Keeping Your Nails Sharp

Despite its promising outlook, the market faces certain hurdles:

Intense competition: The abundance of brands and product options can make it challenging for new entrants to stand out.

Fluctuating raw material prices: Rising costs of ingredients can impact product pricing and profitability.

Counterfeit products: The presence of fake products can erode consumer trust and brand reputation.

However, opportunities abound:

Sustainability: Eco-friendly packaging and formulations attract environmentally conscious consumers.

Personalization: Offering customized nail art and product subscriptions cater to individual preferences.

Technological advancements: Innovations like smart nail polish and AI-powered consultations enhance user experience.

Future Forecast: A Crystal Ball for the Nail Care Industry

Market research experts predict healthy growth for the nail care market in the coming years:

Focus on natural ingredients: Demand for organic and plant-based products is expected to rise.

Men’s nail care segment: This niche market is projected to witness significant growth.

Emerging markets: Regions like Latin America and Africa present untapped potential for market expansion.

Unlocking Insights: Market Research Reports as Your Guide

Navigating the dynamic nail care market requires reliable data and insightful analyses. Market research reports by organizations like Grand View Research, Future Market Insights, and Polaris Market Research offer valuable resources. These reports delve into market size, growth projections, regional trends, competitive landscapes, and emerging opportunities, empowering investors, brands, and industry stakeholders to make informed decisions and capitalize on the vibrant future of nail care.

The Final Touch: More Than Just Polish

The nail care products market is a multifaceted and exciting industry, driven by self-expression, innovation, and evolving consumer preferences. Understanding its size, growth drivers, challenges, and key players offers valuable insights for stakeholders across the spectrum. So, whether you’re a beauty enthusiast, a budding entrepreneur, or a curious investor, keep your eye on the polished future of the nail care industry

#Nail Care Products Market #Nail care Market #Nail Care Market Size #Nail Care Market Share #Nail Care Market Growth #Nail Care Market Revenue #Nail Care Products Market Players #Nail Care Market Research Reports

[hritika1]

Ken Research stands as your dedicated ally for in-depth insights into the Nail care market industry, delivering a specialized Nail care market Research Report tailored to meet the distinctive requirements of this industry. Our comprehensive report covers critical facets such as market trends, size, share, and revenue, providing a nuanced understanding of the sector.

Within our report, we meticulously explore the intricacies of the Nail care market size, delivering a quantitative grasp of the industry's scale. By delving into the latest market trends, we provide valuable insights to aid you in navigating the dynamic landscape of Nail care market.

In addition to sizing and trends, our report offers an in-depth examination of Nail care market share. Grasping the market share landscape is crucial for organizations seeking strategic positioning within the Sports good industry sector.

Recognizing the pivotal role of revenue analysis in decision-making, our report thoroughly explores market revenue, offering crucial financial data to inform planning within the Nail care industry.

Anticipating the future trajectory is paramount to staying ahead in the market. Therefore, our report includes the latest Nail care market outlook and anticipated future trends, complemented by a strategic market forecast to guide your organization in preparing for industry shifts.

Ken Research identifies and profiles the top players in the market. Recognizing these industry leaders is essential for organizations seeking a comprehensive understanding of the competitive landscape and potential collaborations or competitors.

Furthermore, our coverage extends beyond individual market insights to offer a broader perspective on the Nail care market industry. Our detailed industry research report provides a holistic understanding of the Nail care industry landscape, supporting strategic decision-making.

#nail care market growth #nail care market major players #nail care market revenue #nail care market share #nail care market size #nail care market trends analysis #nail care products market growth #nail care products market industry #nail care products market reserach report #nail care products market revenue #nail care products market share #nail care products market size

[pressreleasestrendsz]

#Nail Care Market size #Nail Care Market share #Nail Care Market price

[wcters]

𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗗𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗖𝗢𝗦𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: the relationship between matt and a girlfriend in cosmetology school

warnings/notes: established relationship, swearing, nudity innuendos?? they are naked together, kinda went off the cosmetology thing but it’s cute so whtv, a bit short but this is my first time doing preferences

- first . . . he’s totally spoiled

- like really spoiled

- you would practice at home, and then whatever you could on matt

- manicure: hand massages, cuticle cutting, nail painting, hair washing: head massages, shampoo and conditioning his hair

- he would let you practice shaving his beard but it would take awhile for him to let you

- not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he was going through a beard phase

- matt would loveeee the head massages and would get you to do them all the time

- eventually it becomes second nature and so you’ll be cuddling on the couch or outside sitting down with him between your legs and your hand will just find it’s way into his hair

- and you have fake nails so you know it feels reallyyy good

- waxing . . . but he would not admit that he lets you do it

- you ALWAYS smell good

- your shampoo and conditioner, perfume, skin/body care

- nick always asks you what you use for your skin

- sleepovers with nick where you do skincare, face masks, nail painting

- and chris begs to join until nick says yes

- matt always finds you three on nick’s bed watching a movie

- you had been obsessed with makeup your whole life

- def the designated hair braider on your sports team

- BATHS TOGETHER

- bubble bath, candles, you talking about your day and drama and he’ll be listening

- he’s just happy to be there

- studying at his house while you’re watching a movie together or if he’s busy with the podcast

- chris coming up to you and randomly asking you a question about what you’re doing when you’re studying

- “why do you push your cuticles back?” “how do perms work? like how do you do them?”

- it makes you smile because he’s genuinely interested

- will show him some things if you can

- you’re super sweet

- everyone likes you

- you’re a girls girl

- someone needs a pad/tampon? you got it. someone doesn’t want to go somewhere alone? they aren’t because you’re coming with

- you don’t gatekeep skincare or makeup

- always have lip balm on you

- you and matt go to the gym together

- always have a matching top and pants for your workout outfit

- matt just can’t believe you’re his 🤍

- like he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars

- i want to wear his initial on a chain ‘round my neck vibes

- you literally have a necklace with his initial, you walked it with it on and his eyes popped out of his head

- totally share jewelry

- you steal his sweaters, shirts, shorts, boxers, basically anything you can get your hands on

- give matt face massages

- he be lookin’ flawless

- pays for you even though you decline because he knows how much money you use for school stuff

- that shit is expensiveeee

- nick asked you first to help him dye his hair red

- ofc you said yes! he’s your bestie

- played ariana, doja cat, clairo, stuff like that

- #danceparty

- your stuff sort of pops up around the house

- chris will find like a bobbypin or a hair tie on the floor

- smells like you because you bought candles for them that you loved

- thrifting and going to flea markets and getting stuff for your apartment like vases, cups to hold jewelry, etc

- your hair is amazing. everyone’s jealous. i’m jealous.

- no split ends, doesn’t get greasy until at least 5-6 days after you wash it, perfect for styling. also sleep with a bonnet because that does wonders for you

- lashes are amazing as well. it’s because you get them done while at school 😉😉😉

- you drive nick and chris around if matt’s not there or busy

- they literally love you

- think you’re perfect for your brother

- so nice, so sweet, literal angel

- you’ve been on the podcast

- made a tiktok account after matt suggested you do

- blew up. and it’s partly because you don’t gatekeep

- you’re so relatable too, being completely honest about how you feel . . . and are so funny

- “hot take . . . men should shave their armpits. like how do you put deodorant on?” “you ever too lazy to wash your face so all it is is a makeup wipe and a rinse with water? me too.”

- will trim matt’s hair if be wants just a trim

- you first said no, didn’t want to mess up, but he believed in you 🤭🤭

- your biggest supporter

- they would totally be there when you graduate

- cheering loudly when you walk along the stage

- like the pricilla movie scene but with no creepy old men

- you love that movie, hate elvis, but love pricillia

- you sometimes cook for them so they don’t eat out all the time

- you’re a good cook 👩‍🍳

- force them to have some form of vegetables

- his parents love you

- go fishing with jimmy and the boys the one time they do (sorry jimmy but it’s true)

- fans will ask for pictures when you visit matt on tour

- who’s the triplets? they’re here for you

- matt is so proud of you

- if you ever need him to pick you up he’ll bring you food or starbucks so you have energy when you’re done

- is at your beck and call

- ask him to jump off a cliff? he’ll hesitate a bit but will ultimately do it

#emma writes #preferences #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #youtuber #youtube #youtube preferences #x fem!reader #x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x you

[csuitebitches]

Things I Have to do for My Sanity

1. Wake up at the first alarm - no snoozing and no going lying around in bed. Getting up straight away and head to the bathroom. It’s going to suck initially but you’ll get used to it in a few days.

2. Mental self care: 30 minute meditation, brain games mental math, reading, news. Knowledge is sexy and don’t deny yourself sexiness.

3. Daily review in my diary at the beginning and end of my day: what went well, what didn’t, what I need to accomplish to achieve my goals. This has tremendously helped my goals and keeping my motivation more consistent, especially at work. Analysing and correcting incremental changes creates long term success.

4. Cleaning up before bed - clothes, shoes, organising my bag, etc. I set a timer for 5 minutes and try to get as much done as possible.

5. Pick out my clothes the night before and steam iron them for the next day.

6. Face masks twice a week, a hair mask once a week, I scrub the soles of my feet with that foot scrubbing thingy once a week. Manicures every month because my nail beds are too sensitive to do it biweekly, iron supplements so that I’m not a moody bitch. Matching underwear to feel good about myself. Lavender spray on my pillow before sleeping so that I don’t get weird dreams.

7. Reading biographies and autobiographies. My mentor had suggested this to me and it’s amazing how literally I don’t have a single original experience - everything I’ve felt or mistakes I’ve made have already been done by someone else.

I’m going to curate a list of business books that I feel that have helped me the most recently.

8. I write a short essay everyday in the language I’m currently learning. I also end my day by talking about my day for at least 2 minutes in that language and I record it in voice memos to keep a track of my progress. I want to be fluent to a level where I can think in this language.

✨

I don’t generally share a lot about my personal life - none of you know my name or where I’m based and I feel comfortable doing that. But I do want to start giving out more insights to what I’m doing personally in my career - the good, the bad, the ugly.

Being self aware and honest to myself has helped me improve a lot. I know that shame is my Achilles heel, so now I’m reading books to combat that. I’ve caved in and decided to try therapy for a bit to see if what I’m doing is useful or not. My first session is tomorrow. Staying disciplined was my initial hurdle but the systems I’ve set (waking up early + habit stacking) have helped me slowly overcome that.

Work side, I’ve started establishing myself publicly more. I don’t want to reveal too much about what I do exactly but the good news is that our biggest competitor has noticed my progress (a former employee of that company came to us for an interview and directly asked our top management about me). It’s been 4 months that I’ve been working here but I know that next year I really have to swing the bat and hit a home run. I’ve decided to work on the field more and less in the office to really understand people’s needs and create unique solutions.

The daily/weekly/quarterly diary is definitely credited to my recent wins. That’s the biggest change I’ve made in my routine and i can already see that it’s working well. I’m going to continue refining and implementing that method.

Recent work methods I’ve decided to start working on (I’m not required to do these but I do it for my growth):

1. I’ve started studying popular companies’ business and revenue models in detail. Everything is adoptable and adaptable, you just have to figure out how to tweak something for your company’s clients and needs. Now I’ve decided that I want to keep a track of our competitors, their business models, their owners names, pricing strategy, their target audience etc etc on an excel sheet so that I’m aware with what’s happening in the market. 

2. I’ve started making client profiles. Every time I meet a client, I note down their name, the company name, what they were like, anything specific they seemed to like or want, how much they had paid us for a service, what their paying capacity could be, etc. 

#c suite #powerful woman #strong women #ceo aesthetic #personal growth #that girl #productivity #getting your life together #balance #to do #to do list

[sxnktaalxna]

Threads - Chapter 2

Azriel x Acheron Sister

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

After the stiff encounter of a dinner, Feyre and her companions bid the three sisters a goodnight. Her companions seemed to disappear the second it wasn't deemed rude to leave, but Feyre lingered to embrace (Y/N) once more.

(Y/N) gently embraced back, though not as tightly as their first hug earlier in the evening. Feyre frowned, pulling away and holding her younger sister's hands, 'I know you have questions. And honestly, I might not be able to answer them all. But I promise you little butterfly, if you ever need me, I'm always here. I've never left your side, and I never will.'

(Y/N) nodded, 'It's a lot. And I don't know how to feel or what to think. But if there's anyone I trust in this world, it'll always be you.'

Feyre grinned, glowing vibrantly at her sister's words. (Y/N) wasn't sure if the glow was some kind of fae magic, or Feyre's genuine joy. Perhaps it could be both. Feyre was just relieved that (Y/N) still had faith in her after all this time. Relieved that her sister looked at her and still saw Feyre her sister, not the Fae.

'It's getting late and we'll need to clean since our servants have gone home,' Nesta said curtly, her jaw clenched.

'We're here when you need us,' Elain said, her lips curled up gently.

Taking Nesta's hint, Feyre bid one last goodnight to her sisters before following after companions to begin their planning. The moment the door closed, Nesta turned to her youngest sister in a rage.

'(Y/N), you cannot be serious,' Nesta huffed at her sister's impulsive behaviour, cheeks turning rosy, 'Inviting those things into our home-'

'It's our sister! The same sister who kept us alive for years,' (Y/N) exclaimed, her voice caught in her throat. Still, she continued, 'You cannot look at her and say she's changed.'

'She is fae,' Nesta snarled, her striking features curled into the image of beautiful fury. 'She will get us all killed with this business.'

'We'd be dead anyway,' (Y/N)'s anger and guilt began to build, her voice raising and arms flailing in frustration. 'You heard what Feyre said, if we don't help we're all dead anyway.'

'Nesta, (Y/N) please,' Elain sighed, placing a gentle hand on Nesta's wrist. Nesta didn't react, her piercing gaze remaining on (Y/N). 'Nesta, we're going to help our sister. (Y/N) is right, it's the least we can do.'

Without a word, Nesta stormed up the stairs and disappeared down the hall towards her quarters. Elain sighed, 'Nesta's right though.'

'How?'

'We don't know anything about fae or what's about to happen.' Elain said, plucking at her nails. 'We have to be careful. Especially you, little butterfly.'

'Do either of you ever stop caring about yourselves?' (Y/N) uttered before passing Elain to her own room without a word. Elain gulped at her sister's words, sorrow seeding in her heart as she blew each candle out.

-☆-

The morning came without an incident. Feyre and her companions were nowhere to be found in the house, but it was safe to assume they'd be fine. Nesta remained fiercely against their plans, but kept her disagreements to herself. Elain and (Y/N) outnumbered her unfortunately, and to some extent they were right. Not that she'd admit it.

Elain had her own reservations. After all, her own fiance warned her of the fae's dangerous nature. But (Y/N) was right, they owed Feyre their lives. The least they could do was offer a safe meeting place. Even with her trust in Feyre, the thought of fae entering her home had her reaching to fiddle with the iron ring around her slim ring finger.

Nesta insisted all the sister's began to wear their iron bracelets from the market at all times. Despite the clear wear from years of use, Nesta and Elain wore it on their wrists since dinner, hidden beneath velvet cuffs. (Y/N) wore hers to ease her sister's worries, but continued to be reminded of their shortcomings to Feyre.

Feyre did not have one. (Y/N) insisted that she share hers, ignoring Feyre's denials. Each day at dawn when Feyre would be ready to slip away, (Y/N) would catch her hand and slip the slim bracelet on with a farewell and a promise to come back. The one day she slept in, snuggling into the sheets to catch the last warmth... She knew it was silly to assume, but (Y/N) couldn't help but wonder if Feyre would've come home that day if she had the bracelet with her.

Nesta tucked her bracelet under her cuff, her hair done up tight and neat. Elain was behind her, cloak already around her shoulders. Embroidered daisies and marigolds lined the edges of her cloak, courtesy of their baby sister's talents.

'We'll be back soon,' Nesta said, gently brushing (Y/N)'s hair behind her ear. 'Mrs Laurent is here if you need anything, but please stay inside.'

'I'll be fine,' (Y/N) retorted, still slightly bitter about Nesta's recent protectiveness. 'Please remember to pick up some pins, I've lost most of mine.'

'You should do better to watch where you put them' Nesta grumbled, recalling accidentally pricking herself on a pin left on a chair.

'We'll be back by noon,' Elain bid her younger sister goodbye. With that, the sister's made their way into their carriage towards town.

The day had barely grew light before (Y/N) began to grow bored. As skilled as she was with the needle, she could only prick herself so many times before admitting defeat. Her hands held the history of her life, from the hard calluses on her palms from an axe with a broken handle, to the tiny red dots lining the tips of her fingers. Her hands weren't smooth like Nesta's, or slim and dainty like Elain's. But they held Feyre's hands in cold winters, and made artistry of string. They weren't pretty, but they held life.

She was glad to have a shared artist's eye with her sister. It wasn't uncommon for the two to start fantasizing what life as artists would be like. In the little moments Feyre allowed herself to sit down, they would point and say 'This would be a wonderful painting' or 'A piece like this on a tapestry would be incredible'. Now, as (Y/N) stared into the gardens around the estate, she wondered if Feyre would find herself painting in the flowers during spring.

A tickle ran through her as a cold thread brushed her ankle. Looking down and seeing nothing, she stood to reach for a shawl and caught sight of something dark moving underneath her bed. She swallowed, eyes glued on the moving darkness. Her fingers wriggled around her desk, wrapping around her thread scissors. Before she could take a step forward, the same cold thread slivered around her wrist and fingers towards the scissors.

Yelping, the scissors slipped from her hand. (Y/N) went to shake off whatever creature it was only to see...darkness. A beautiful swirl of blacks and dark greys that wrapped itself around her wrist and fingers like a curious pet snake. The strange shadow held no face, yet moved with sentience and...curiosity? (Y/N) watched in confusion as the shadow continued to move like smoke. It held no physical presence, appearing to constantly turning like ink in water. Yet it's cold presence ran around her arm, confirming it was very real indeed. Perhaps she should've felt fear. Or at least anxiety. Yet she found herself giggling at its cool touch as it slithered up her forearm.

The shadow underneath her bed creeped out and wrapped around her ankles. She wondered if these were some sort of hallucination, a trick of fae, but thoughts were cut off when the shadows seemed to tug at her ankles. A small yet firm tug as if to say 'Follow'.

Was this Feyre? Feyre never mentioned how fae magic or communication worked, so perhaps this was it. This must be a sign. Snatching the cloak off her wardrobe, she followed the moving shadow out the door. The shadow around her wrist seemed to find a home there, continuing to weave itself through her fingers. Walking out into the garden with only her bedroom slippers, she knew Mrs Laurent would have a fit about treading dirt, but perhaps she could ask Feyre to magic them clean perhaps? She truly should ask what her dear sister can do as a fae.

The shadow weaved through the garden at a pace that had (Y/N) jogging to keep up. It weaved through Elain's garden into the woods just north of the estate. The dark creature glided across the snowy floor, leaving no trace as (Y/N) fought her way through the snow. She shivered at the snow in her feet, but it was too late to turn back or else she may miss it. The shadow swiftly disappeared into the darkness of a bush, leaving only (Y/N) and her new friend in a small clearing. Turning around, she could see the peaks of her home just above the treeline. If necessary, she could run back the way she came.

'You shouldn't follow strange creatures like that.' A low, baritone reached her ears. Turning back to where the shadow had disappeared stood Azriel. Except he seemed much more...

His wings, now spread open and wide behind him towered above her, casting a shadow over her against the dawn sunlight. Despite the visible light, he was surrounded by a shroud of darkness that danced around his frame. He was slightly obscured, but on his body glowed seven blue lights that cut through the shadows. Looking at her own wrist, she realised the shadows must be his.

'I shouldn't, but I couldn't help it,' (Y/N) shrugged, lifting her other hand to play with the gentle shadow. 'It's quite cute.'

Azriel chuckled, seemingly in disbelief at her words. 'Cute is not how most would normally describe them. I usually hear the words 'terrifying' or 'dark''.

'Then people don't know the meaning of those words,' (Y/N) replied, stepping closer to Azriel to extend her wrapped arm. 'I believe this one's yours too.'

The shadow began moving towards Azriel, but (Y/N) felt a tug around her arm as like fingers had gripped to not let go. Azriel's eyebrows furrowed at the shadows strange behaviour, before saying, 'It's alright, it likes your company more than mine.'

'Surely not,' (Y/N) shook her head, looking up at him, 'How could it not enjoy company as delightful as yours?'

'I believe you're mistaken in enjoying my company,' Azriel denied, but (Y/N) could see the gentle smile on his lips. No matter how tiny it seemed to be. He didn't look that much different, but seeing him much more relaxed compared to the dinner... His shoulders had dropped down, his jaw unclenched and posture much more calm compared to his stiff body movement the night before. The metallic scent of magic had returned, stronger and sharper than before, an iron that stung her nose and almost felt like wool over her sense. The presence of magic was stronger than ever now that Azriel had not tried to hide as he did before. (Y/N) curiously wondered if Rhysand's power was just as if not more paralysing considering his status as high lord. But she did not wish to think of any other man than the one before her. He stood taller, mightier, freer, and (Y/N) couldn't look away.

'And I believe, you cannot tell me what I can and cannot enjoy,' (Y/N) said, the smile growing larger on her face the longer she spoke to the shadowed man. 'How's my dear sister?'

'She's well. She's gone training with Rhysand,' Azriel said, gently placing his hands behind his back. Walking over, (Y/N) could feel the air grow colder as she stepped closer to his shroud of shadows. With each step, the shadows seemed to buzz with energy, with some bouncing away from Azriel's frame to join her side.

'And you say they aren't cute,' (Y/N) sang, 'What are you doing out here this early?'

'I'm helping Rhysand and Feyre,' Azriel replied, 'I'm just waiting.'

'For what?'

'For when they need me.'

'I suppose that's all you'll give me,' (Y/N) signed in resignation. He was a very secretive person undoubtedly, but it wasn't her place to ask these things either. Perhaps it was safer she didn't find out. But yet she yearned for more. She wanted to know more about this curious man. The stories he told her during the dinner had drew her in like fish to bait, capturing her attention with his words. She had been so pulled to him and his world that questions of danger turned into questions of curiousity. Of food, culture, and language. All questions that she was dying to ask, threatening to break past her sealed lips.

Azriel seemed amused by her disappointment saying, 'I'll answer any questions you have soon. Maybe when I know your sister won't take my head for it.'

'Certainly sounds like her,' (Y/N) said. The two held eyes for a moment, gentle smiles exchanged. But a glance towards her other wrist has her reminded of her sister's rage. Quickly, she hid the iron bracelets behind her waist - an attempt at both protecting him and possibly herself, 'I'm sorry, I forgot I wore this.'

'Why are you apologising?' Azriel asked, confused at her reaction. It'd be stupid not to know how absolutely resentful Nesta was towards fae - they weren't very quiet in their arguments. Nor was Nesta subtle. And it was not (Y/N)'s fault should she find herself seeking some form of comfort, even if the comfort wasn't true protection.

And yet, peculiarly she seemed more regretful than fearful. 'Safety is not something to be shameful for wanting.'

'I know, but I know it can hurt you and quite frankly, I'd be quite upset if it were my fault you were hurt.'

'I'll let you in on a secret,' Azriel softly replied. Like approaching a cornered creature, he gently extended his open palm towards her. An invitation of trust. A flickered glance between his open palm and his sincere eyes has her reaching to place her fingers in his gloved grasp, careful to avoid accidentally grazing his skin with iron.

She couldn't help the gasp that escaped when his other hand, warm and rough, wrapped itself around the iron bracelet. She almost flinched, wanting to cry out for him but...

He gently pulled the bracelet off her hand, his callused palm laying flat on the back of her hand for a moment. A glimpse of raised flesh around his hand caught her eye before it disappeared out of sight when he dropped her hand. The iron bracelet rested on his palm, old and dull. There it settled, as if it were nothing more than a small novelty piece. An antique from the market. None of what she had expected happened.

'Iron doesn't...'

'I don't mean to scare you,' Azriel clarified with softened eyes, extending the bracelet back. 'I promise I don't want to hurt you. You have nothing to fear me with me.'

(Y/N) gingerly plucked her bracelet back from him, silent in thought. The more she learned of the Fae, the dizzier she seemed to get. If iron has no effect, then her family wasn't safe? Did that mean fae could lie? Or perhaps it's solidified what she had secretly hoped for - that fae are not monsters from nightmares. And that Azriel was as lovely as he seemed to be.

Azriel's soft expression hardened in an instant, his shadows no longer dancing around the air. Now they sat deathly still, like a thick fog that began to way down on your lungs. (Y/N) began to understand what Azriel meant about his shadows. 'I'm sorry I must go.'

In a split second of snow swirl and gust, Azriel flew into the air and disappeared out of sight. (Y/N) stumbled at the sudden force of his wings, the snow settling around her and in her hair. She glanced up at the sky to catch a glimpse of him, only to see nothing but the beginning of a new day. She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. There, she saw that her little friend around her wrist, 'I suppose you'll keep me safe then.'

-☆-

This isn't exactly how I wanted it to go, but I wanted to give them a little bonding before shit hits the fan in the next chapter :3 It's funny too cus I'm reallllyy invested in developing the Feyre dynamic even tho I don't need to but I musttt 😆 Also I feel like azriel may be a bit ooc from the books (i havent read a court of silver flames or a court of frost and starlight 😭)...butt we all have our own perceptions and headcanons about characters, it's part of what makes fanfics and reading so fun! so yes, if you believe this isn't the azriel ur used to reading about, I understand and that's ok!

Also, biiiig thank you to everyone who's interacted with this series so far! I truly wasn't expecting any sort of response so to see so much support already makes me super excited to keep going :) I hope you all enjoy this series as much as I enjoy writing it!

If you'd like to be tagged for updates please lmk 💗 Happy holidays and happy new year! Also some people who asked to be tagged weren't showing up so I'm so sorry I'm not sure why but I'll be happy to send u updates if you'd like :)

Taglist:

@wallacewillow0773638 @impossibelle @utterlyotterlyx @weasleyreidstyles @justdreamstars @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @fussel9913 @willowpains @eatsleepreadance1 @blueeclipsepaperstudent

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acheron

[emeryleewho]

Saw a fun little conversation on Threads but I don't have a Threads account, so I couldn't reply directly, but I sure can talk about it here!

I've been wanting to get into this for awhile, so here we go! First and foremost, I wanna say that "Emmaskies" here is really hitting the nail on the head despite having "no insider info". I don't want this post to be read as me shitting on trad pub editors or authors because that is fundamentally not what's happening.

Second, I want to say that this reply from Aaron Aceves is also spot on:

There are a lot of reviewers who think "I didn't enjoy this" means "no one edited this because if someone edited it, they would have made it something I like". As I talk about nonstop on this account, that is not a legitimate critique. However, as Aaron also mentions, rushed books are a thing that also happens.

As an author with 2 trad pub novels and 2 trad pub anthologies (all with HarperCollins, the 2nd largest trad publisher in the country), let me tell you that if you think books seem less edited lately, you are not making that up! It's true! Obviously, there are still a sizeable number of books that are being edited well, but something I was talking about before is that you can't really know that from picking it up. Unlike where you can generally tell an indie book will be poorly edited if the cover art is unprofessional or there are typoes all over the cover copy, trad is broken up into different departments, so even if editorial was too overworked to get a decent edit letter churned out, that doesn't mean marketing will be weak.

One person said that some publishers put more money into marketing than editorial and that's why this is happening, but I fundamentally disagree because many of these books that are getting rushed out are not getting a whole lot by way of marketing either! And I will say that I think most authors are afraid to admit if their book was rushed out or poorly edited because they don't want to sabotage their books, but guess what? I'm fucking shameless. Café Con Lychee was a rush job! That book was poorly edited! And it shows! Where Meet Cute Diary got 3 drafts from me and my beta readers, another 2 drafts with me and my agent, and then another 2 drafts with me and my editor, Café Con Lychee got a *single* concrete edit round with my editor after I turned in what was essentially a first draft. I had *three weeks* to rewrite the book before we went to copy edits. And the thing is, this wasn't my fault. I knew the book needed more work, but I wasn't allowed more time with it. My editor was so overworked, she was emailing me my edit letter at 1am. The publisher didn't care if the book was good, and then they were upset that its sales weren't as high at MCD's, but bffr. A book that doesn't live up to its potential is not going to sell at the same rate as one that does!

And this may sound like a fluke, but it's not. I'm not naming names because this is a deeply personal thing to share, but I have heard from *many* authors who were not happy with their second books. Not because they didn't love the story but because they felt so rushed either with their initial drafts or their edits that they didn't feel like it lived up to their potential. I also know of authors who demanded extra time because they knew their books weren't there yet only to face big backlash from their publisher or agent.

I literally cannot stress to you enough that publisher's *do not give a fuck* about how good their products are. If they can trick you into buying a poorly edited book with an AI cover that they undercut the author for, that is *better* than wasting time and money paying authors and editors to put together a quality product. And that's before we get into the blatant abuse that happens at these publishers and why there have been mass exoduses from Big 5 publishers lately.

There's also a problem where publishers do not value their experienced staff. They're laying off so many skilled, dedicated, long-term committed editors like their work never meant anything. And as someone who did freelance sensitivity reading for the Big 5, I can tell you that the way they treat freelancers is *also* abysmal. I was almost always given half the time I asked for and paid at less than *half* of my general going rate. Authors publishing out of their own pockets could afford my rate, but apparently multi-billion dollar corporations couldn't. Copy edits and proofreads are often handled by freelancers, meaning these are people who aren't familiar with the author's voice and often give feedback that doesn't account for that, plus they're not people who are gonna be as invested in the book, even before the bad payment and ridiculous timelines.

So, anyway, 1. go easy on authors and editors when you can. Most of us have 0 say in being in this position and authors who are in breech of their contract by refusing to turn in a book on time can face major legal and financial ramifications. 2. Know that this isn't in your head. If you disagree with the choices a book makes, that's probably just a disagreement, but if you feel like it had so much potential but just *didn't reach it*, that's likely because the author didn't have time to revise it or the editor didn't have time to give the sort of thorough edits it needed. 3. READ INDIE!!! Find the indie authors putting in the work the Big 5's won't do and support them! Stop counting on exploitative mega-corporations to do work they have no intention of doing.

Finally, to all my readers who read Café Con Lychee and loved it, thank you. I love y'all, and I appreciate y'all, and I really wish I'd been given the chance to give y'all the book you deserved. I hope I can make it up to you in 2025.

#publishing #writing #author #trad pub #traditional publishing #café con lychee #books

[thatstonedwriter]

⋆｡˚ 「 Relationship Headcanons 」 ⋆｡˚

Fizzarolli

── ˙•˚∘✮🌙ᯓ🪐˙•˚∘ ──

You in the market for a sweet n’ sassy performer? Fizzarolli is the one for you! My man lives for being dramatic, although he doesn’t always need to be the center of attention. Fizz is more than happy to share the spotlight~.

Shenanigans is the word that best describes this relationship. Fizz will play harmless pranks and playfully tease you constantly. A lot of the time, he’s filming too (but won’t post it to his socials if you don’t want him to). Of course there are times when you'll need space, and in those cases, Fizz just goes to bother Blitzø.

Speaking of- Hangouts with Blitzø are pretty frequent. I hope you can tolerate threesome jokes, because Blitzø will make them. Most of the time, the two bicker with each other, with Fizzarolli relying on you for backup.

One of his favorite activities is singing with you! Doesn't matter if you're good or not- Fizz just loves the thrill of singing along to your favorite songs together.

On that same note (hehe), Fizz loves solos (watching and performing). So whether it's you cheering him on or vice versa, taking a moment to feel like a rockstar does wonders for your self-esteem.

Fizz will often do this thing where he pretends something is a microphone, and he'll act as if you're a celebrity on the red carpet. It's a fun way for Fizz to flirt with you; complimenting your outfit, hair, accessories, etc.

loves pampering you (and himself), so expect lots of self-care supplies to take over your bathroom. Nail polish, cuticle oil, face masks, scented lotions- you name it, he probably has it.

I imagine Fizz suffers from some chronic pain due to his scars and injuries. I also think that his skin is super sensitive because of the burn scars. I also think because of that, he'd be very particular about the skin care products he picks out.

In the beginning of your relationship, Fizz will have lots of reservations regarding physicality. His main concern is that the texture of his burns, and the scars themselves will freak you out, and you won't find him attractive.

Later on, when he's more comfortable, Fizz loves cuddling - though, if you have any boundaries surrounding physicality, he'll adhere to them. If not, be ready to have him hanging on you all the time. A robotic limb draped across your shoulders, his head leaned against yours, a hand caressing your back, fingers tracing your palms- Fizz just loves being in contact with you.

spontaneity, impulsivity, and creativity- the lethal trifecta. Fizz’s mind almost never stops. Some days, he’ll be brimming with ideas, songs, comedy bits- others. Others, his mind is racing with insecurities, and overwhelmed by the need to do everything at once. He has the tendency to bounce from one task to another, so sometimes, you’ll find half the laundry folded, the dishes clean, but not dry, or hastily written reminders on post-it notes scattered on counter tops and mirrors.

He tries not to show them often, but Fizz has a lot of insecurities. They range from him not being attractive enough to full-on crises regarding his self-worth. If you struggle with the same issues, you both can be pillars for each other, offering comfort and support when needed. Regardless, comfort and reassurance are very important to Fizzarolli, and they play a big role in the relationship.

── ˙•˚∘✮ 🔭๋࣭ᯓ🌙˙•˚∘ ──

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss headcanon #fizzarolli helluva boss #fizz helluva boss #fizz x reader #fizzarolli x reader #romantic headcanons #romantic x reader #request #writings.onthe.wall #general relationship hcs #relationship headcanons

[wisteriagoesvroom]

18 & 63 for the trope mashup please! <3

18. Circus AU and 63. Everybody knows, mistaken for a couple ^from the prompt mash ups game!

This is a Cirque du Soleil AU where Norris and Piastri are two trapeze artists who made huge names for themselves in their individual countries. They get paired up for new show, and it involves a really tricky sequence that people are convinced is not possible and has never been done before, let alone by two guys.

They have a couple of near misses on the attempts to nail the trick, and the whole gang is watching carefully from the safety nets. People are biting their nails, and george is totally double checking the insurance papers and trying not to freak out.

Anyway, Oscar hangs upside down on the bar, totally chill. on the platform, Lando shakes the last of his nerves from his fingers. he slides a firm grip down his own bar, the one place that’s been so familiar for so many years, and he takes a breath. It’s beyond conscious thought, it’s just muscle memory, stepping into the air. With faith that the other man will meet him, in that millisecond between complete connection and the plummet.

Hands. It’s all in the hands. Lando's own fingertips moulding to the floor the first time he nailed a handstand, someone else’s careful hands that taught him his first few balances and tucks. The way his hands bled bloody and blistered, until he worked up the requisite strength.

Now, Lando grips the bar steady with both hands. Now, the steady rhythm in the pit of his stomach. Once, three times, four — the pendulum hits the peak of the apex.

Lando jackknifes through the air, and he’s twisting, house lights blurring in his vision.

Oscar waits, hands outstretched.

Then, a firm clasp from a smaller hand. Callouses pressed against his own. Years of practice, leading up to this point of contact.

His body knows before his mind does. The snap of gravity into the right place, when moving object meets opposing force. It’s Oscar’s counter-rhythm that stops him falling, Oscar’s nimble strength that matches his own. The way they do this in silence, carefully cultivated trust. In that moment, their bodies are a marvel of physics.

Below, the cast erupts in whoops and cheers. Lando wants to run around, wants to scream, but in that moment there’s not really an option - he just clasps Oscar’s forearms, and lets himself be swung.

“Well.” Oscar says, wry. “That was easy.”

Lando looks up. “Yeah. Only took fifty four tries.”

Lando can tell Oscar’s trying not to laugh. Oscar's hands stay steady though.

Someone captures the footage and it takes a while to get going, but then they’re doing numbers on socials. Cirque marketing figures this could get momentum and gradually shares more behind the scenes footage of them both: heads bowed together to talk about the tricks, tightening their wrist wraps, dusting chalk off each other, and laughing as they sip their energy drinks. They even get a portmanteau: landoscar.

The final show is obviously a massive hit. Lando and Oscar’s segment ends up being a lyrical interpretation of the life of a papaya or something. It’s Seb Vettel’s show about the lifespan of plants and bees so they’re just rolling with the vision.

When Pride comes around, the two of them step out to get coffee and a snack at their regular spot. The barista waves at them and says: “a year's free coffee for the happy couple! thank you so much for repping queer excellence in the arts.”

And Oscar’s like, “oh, uh. I mean. I am. But we– we’re not…”

Then Lando turns to him. The morning light looks good on Oscar. Oscar who always lends him sports tape, always lets him order lunch first, and always, always leans forward to catch him. In or out of the ring, he is the partner Lando trusts more than anything in the world.

So Lando tugs on Oscar’s hoodie sleeve, and is like: “actually, I’d meant to ask you…”

#landoscar #oscar piastri #Lando Norris #op81 #ln4 #mctwinks #814 #twinklaren #814m #prompt game #yeeting this before i crash to sleep #thank you leaf for always sending such fun prompts for my silly bean brain #thank you for forgiving my bizzare capitalisation throughout btw cus i wrote this on a plane #wiz.HCs

[unicorncornflakes]

Family Sins - One Shot || Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Paring: Reader x Aemond Targaryen.

Summary: Every Thursday afternoon you and Aemond meet, even if you have to pay for his family's sins.

Tags: Alternate Universe/ Emotional Hurt/Angst/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: I am just sad. This is the best I can write these days.

Author´s note:  Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 4.2 K

You were soaked to the skin. All your clothes were loose. But, you were still pretty. It was all Aemond could think when he saw you walking through the aisles of that roadside gas station. He followed you with his eye while you consulted the prices of a small cocoa bun. Your black sweatshirt was soaked all over while your damp hair was tied up in a ragged bun. Your black-painted nails grazed some of the price signs as you put the small dessert back in its place and grabbed a cheaper one. You smiled at him as he followed you closely and he picked up the same product that you had left in its place. You didn't talk, Aemond wasn't given to too many words and you were tired from the rain. But, storms always made you happy. It was something Aemond could never understand, but he shared with you.

Outside, at that small gas station in the middle of the forest, it was still raining. Only Aemond's gray Mercedes and the old bicycle that your mother had given you two birthdays ago were parked at the door. You always pedaled five kilometers to meet Aemond. Every Thursday afternoon. He came directly from the city and was waiting for you, drinking a coffee that he always considered awful while you arrived. He always thought he could go find you. Pick you up at the door of your house and take you to a better place. But, that would have been giving you greater importance than you really should have for him. Although, you had driven him crazy. That was all he could think every time he saw you arrive at that place on your bicycle. In summer you always arrived with your short shorts, in winter with your military boots.

On that rainy autumn afternoon, you arrived with that huge black sweatshirt that must have been borrowed, courtesy of your older brother, surely. Or that was what Aemond thought as he followed you through that small commissary that the gas station had. The idea that that sweatshirt belonged to a man other than your brother drove him crazy, so he preferred to think that it belonged to your brother. It made things easier for him. You looked at a series of cookies one last time and left them in their place.

Aemond continued to follow you at a safe distance. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye while you laughed. The two of them alone in that place. Thus, things seemed easier than they really were. Everything was simpler when you were alone.

You walked up to the register and opened the small cloth bag hanging from your back. You took out that cat-shaped purse that Aemond had bought you at a market in Flea Bottom. Also soaked, you opened it, careful not to break it while you counted the coins that that strawberry bun that you had left on the counter cost. Right behind you, Aemond also placed the cocoa puff you had chosen earlier and took the elegant black leather wallet out of his pants. Unlike you, he wasn't wet. His hair was immaculate and his clothes looked as always, well ironed and freshly washed. That black turtleneck sweater he was wearing that day, you knew, cost the same as what it took to eat at home for a whole week.

“Give me a pack of Lucky Strike too,” he said diligently as the cashier looked you up and down. Aemond also dropped a package of condoms on the counter and you blushed while he simply prepared to pay with his credit card. Two small buns. A pack of tobacco. A package of condoms…

Rob, the cashier, looked over his shoulder at you as he charged Aemond for that purchase. He was your neighbor and you were sure that he knew what you and Aemond were going to do that rainy afternoon. You left the store with the strawberry muffin even before Aemond finished paying, although it was clear that you preferred the chocolate one.

He looked at you through the huge glass doors of that gas station and wondered if it wasn't better to give you the treatment you deserved. However, he simply took the condoms and tobacco in one hand, that chocolate bun in the other and went outside. The water continued to fall hard and you were leaning against the door frame. It fell so hard from the ledge that it soaked your torn canvas sneakers, even though the rest of your body was trying to regain heat. Aemond gave you the cocoa puff and you reluctantly took it. You knew what awaited you at home that night because of that simple gesture that was intended to be kind on Aemond's part.

“I could have bought it,” you said without much encouragement, taking down your backpack from your back and putting the condoms and both buns in it. You looked at Aemond, who remained stoic and unfazed as always.

“You would have bought the strawberry one because it's the only thing you can afford and because you need to eat something,” he responded, shrugging his shoulders and opening the packet of tobacco. “This way you will eat something you like,” he said out loud, making the difference between him and you evident: he always paid with a credit card, it seemed like his money was created out of nowhere. You always carried coins in your bag and you never bought what you wanted because you simply didn't have the money for it.

“I guess,” you answered, not daring to look at him. Aemond approached you and finally kissed you. All of his slim, slender body against yours. The height difference was considerable. He just grabbed your face in his hands, his lips making contact with yours in a sweet and passionate way. You held his wrists, as if you always needed an anchor to the ground every time he kissed you. That kiss, surrounded by the storm, was observed under the disapproving gaze of that gas station cashier in the middle of nowhere. The rain threatened to soak you, but you didn't care.

As always, in the middle of all your kisses, Aemond opened his only eye, almost wanting to check that you were real, and not a simple fantasy of his imagination. He always slowly closed his eye again as your lips continued to crash against each other.

At the end of that silent kiss, Aemond took your hand, without looking back, and opened the passenger door for you in the rain. You quickly got into the car and Aemond ran to the driver's seat in the rain. You saw how his hair had now become wavy and he gave a half smile when he saw how you smiled silently, tiredly resting your head on the seat. “I could take the bike and put it in the trunk. Take you home after the motel,” he confessed, not daring to look at you. At that moment, he wanted to go further with you, beyond what he wanted to admit.

"No, do not worry. Then just leave me here and go. I’ll go home from here on the bike,” you told him, not daring to look at him either. You grabbed one of the wet, unruly strands covering your face and tucked it behind your ear. “I don't want my parents to know where I've been this afternoon,” you confessed dejectedly. You knew they would find out before nightfall, just when Rob walked through the door of your father's bar, the nerve center of the town where you lived.

“As you wish,” Aemond responded as the engine roared just started. He turned on his car radio. It only played classical music and you wondered as always if Aemond listened to anything else or the high cultural esteem in which you knew he was held prevented him from doing so. “I bought you other sneakers,” he whispered while keeping his eyes on the road. The windshield wipers of his car moving frantically in the face of such an amount of water.

“It wasn't necessary,” you responded, biting your inner cheek. You hated that he did that. You hated that he bought you everything you needed. You knew he did it for a simple reason: to hold your meetings every Thursday afternoon. As if you were a prostitute, Aemond bought everything he thought or felt you needed. It was his way of keeping you by his side. The only language of love that seemed to know how to offer, understand… “My sneakers are fine,” you said, looking at them. Destroyed and torn. That was all they were.

“They were just on sale,” he responded, putting the issue to rest. His voice always seemed to be devoid of all emotion. Sometimes you wondered if Aemond knew how to feel anything other than indifference or anger, but you knew he did. Every Thursday afternoon he demonstrated it to you. Always in the solitude of that motel room that he reserved for a few simple hours. The radio interrupted the broadcast to talk again about another urgent environmental disaster and Aemond turned it off.

Both you and he knew it was what was going to be talked about. You could see him tense up as he drove. And you directed your body towards his, releasing the seat belt. You bit your lip hesitantly as you brought his body closer to his, one of your hands gripping his seat. The other traveled to Aemond's fly.

“Hmm” was all you heard him say as your hand slowly lowered the zipper. The metallic sound of each and every one of the teeth that made it up exploded against your ears, just like the sound of the rain in the now silent interior of that high-end car. You unbuckled his belt and your hand quickly found his cock in his pants, hard and warm, soft and firm. You bit your lip seductively as you took her out of those extremely expensive underwear. “I don't want to have to give explanations at a police checkpoint like last time,” he answered, without taking his eyes off the road. Grabbing your hand with his as the other grabbed the steering wheel. “Don't be mean to me, (Y/N),” he asked you under his breath.

“I just wanted you to relax,” you whispered sensually and he smiled again without looking at you, although you never knew if when Aemond smiled he was truly happy. You returned to your seat and watched as he quickly buttoned his pants again. “If you don't like it…” you purred and he interrupted you.

“Hmm, I didn't say that,” he repeated again, remembering the fine he had had to pay and how your cheeks had blushed the most while that police officer asked you what your relationship was and forced you to take out your ID card to verify that You were actually nineteen years old and no less. Aemond was six years older than you at the time, but he had always looked older than he really was. He remembered telling the police officer that you were a couple and how you had looked at the ground in regret as those words came out of his mouth. The following Thursday you had not shown up, nor the next one. Three weeks later you came back with a very bad-looking bump between your ribs that you promised was the result of a bad fall on the bike. He knew you had lied, but stating it out loud would have meant never seeing you again.

You finally arrived at that roadside motel and Aemond left you in the car while he went to the reception to get the keys to room thirteen, the one he reserved every Thursday. You received a message from your mother asking if you needed her to pick you up after your study hours at the library. You answered no because you were carrying the bike. You lied to her again. You turned off the phone and closed your eyes. You could understand why your parents didn't want you to see Aemond, but it really wasn't his fault…

He woke you from your thoughts as he opened the car door. You walked out next to him and he held your hand again. You ran through the rain until you reached the second floor of the motel. He clumsily opened the door and you both walked in laughing and soaked. Aemond kissed you again, closing the bedroom door behind you. Holding your face again, with no escape. Your bodies swayed together in that room that had witnessed your meetings for the last two years.

You could hear him gasp as he kissed you. You broke away from his grasp and took off your soaked sweatshirt, which fell heavy to the floor. You also took off your wet shorts and were left in your underwear. Cold and shivering, Aemond covered you with his body, though he was almost as wet as you. You took off his eye patch and he laid you on the bed.

He smiled bright and powerful, like you knew he really felt about almost everyone. He was a Targaryen. He took off his turtleneck and you could see the symbol that already named him as such. The tattoo was fresh on his skin. A green and black dragon on his shoulder. Detailed to excess and you knew it named him as someone important within the family and business, criminal and legal structure. You didn't dare ask, even though he knew you knew the meaning. Your sister had explained it to you when Aegon received his. Years ago, you had both been naïve enough to think that type of tattoo was exciting and powerful. Your sister had been a fool. You weren't on a different path.

Aemond's arms supported his entire weight as he lunged at you to kiss you. His pants though on but his belt undone. He had never been a subtle boy. He smiled at you proudly and cockily, he almost seemed to know what you were thinking. He was dying to tell you that just two days ago he had given him the tattoo, that he had stood stoically and without any emotion while it was done, but his heart had been beating strongly, as if this were finally the moment of approval that he had been waiting for all his life.

He kiss you. His lips met with strength and need. They eagerly bumped into yours. A watery sound. A pleasant shiver ran down his spine, like every time he kissed you. You knew there wouldn't be much more foreplay.

He stayed silent over you. His single eye scrutinized you while the prosthesis remained immovable in that empty eye socket. He had never told you what had happened to him. He would never do it. You had heard rumors, but... His eye continued to look at you in silence. You looked beautiful with your hair wet, all spread out against the pillow, your eyes locked on his, a half smile on your lips.

His thumb brushed your bottom lip gently. Comfortable silence reigned in that cheap motel room. The gray walls. The simple sheets. That sad blind half lowered. The complete scene of your meetings every Thursday afternoon. “I love you,” Aemond confessed in a whisper. Your eyes appeared to offer a small surprise upon hearing him. He felt your entire body stiffen under him. It was the riskiest confession he could make to you. However, he was happy. At that moment, he was happy after a long time. “I love you” he repeated again with more force, as if he wanted to reaffirm his words.

His lips found yours again and you relaxed at the attention. You were in big trouble if Aemond confessed something like that, but it was really what you wanted him to do. Confess that way, with you, and only you. He lightly bit your lower lip with a smile, trying to relax you. Your hands ran up his arms as you kissed. The hand traveling on his right shoulder tried to avoid the dragon tattoo. Aemond was beginning to follow in his older brother's footsteps... You thought, you always thought that he was not that kind of man... but, he craved power like everyone else, right?

Aemond's always skillful fingers undid your panties, removing them heavy from not only the humidity of the rain that had soaked everything. You were too. Your core throbbing and waiting for a simple contact with him. An arrogant smile appeared on his lips when he saw the small soaked grotto, as if his mere presence already activated all the keys you needed. You smiled shyly at him and he kissed you again.

Your bodies merged in an embrace that promised to be eternal. You felt Aemond's cock hard, eager for what he always got when he was with you. The bright red tip protruded through the elastic of his boxers and you licked your lips in a reflex and subconscious act that Aemond was always grateful for. Seeing your wet lips and bright eyes, he could only think that you were perfect, terribly perfect.

“I'm going to get the condoms,” you whispered, a feeling of regret running through your head, as if those words had ruined everything. The atmosphere that had existed until that moment seemed to have almost disappeared and you felt his grip loosen.

“Sure” It was all he said as he stood up and took off his pants and boxers. He didn't dare look at you because he thought that afternoon was finally the moment you would leave him... bareback. He had confessed. He had done it... and you had been taking contraceptives for a year, he had no more sexual encounters than the ones he had with you... he looked at you out of the corner of his eye, crouched down rummaging through your bag, looking for the packcage that he had bought himself. You had never talked about it, but… “I'm not my brother, you know?” He whispered, looking back ahead, not daring to look at you. “If something happened, I would…”

You interrupted him by returning to bed with a condom and leaving it between the sheets while you lay on your side and he turned to look at you. “You know we can't take risk,” you told him as he went back to the bed and grabbed the wrapper. You didn't point anything out but it always made you nervous that he would tear it with his teeth. He put it on silently and positioned himself between your legs. He looked into your eyes and, for the first time, you saw an authoritative gleam behind them, almost as if that damn tattoo had changed him.

“I'm not my brother,” he repeated again under his breath. He entered you forcefully, without breaking eye contact. Your legs surrounded your hips and you moaned at that impact with such violence that it caused his testicles to collide against the slit of your pussy. You closed your eyes and didn't say anything. The sins of his family would always be present among you.

“I'm just saying that family is destroying the town.” Old Tom was sitting at the bar while your father cleaned it. It was late, but he kept moving that old rag against the bar. His eyes filled with worry as he waited for you. He knew where you had been. He knew what you had done. He had always thought of you as a smarter girl than your sister, but it was clear that you were not.

“Once again they have polluted the river with waste from the plant,” said Clark. His mug of beer met his lips. Your father knew where you had been, Rob had told him before he went home. His face had turned gloomy just then. “Those damned Targaryens…”

Just then, all the voices fell silent in the town bar. You had just walked through the door, soaked to the skin. You had pedaled there from the gas station in the rain, even though Aemond had insisted on giving you a ride home. You couldn't let your father see you with him, although when his accusatory eyes fell on you, you knew he knew. Everyone tried to return to their previous conversation as your steps led you to the bar. There a boy with white hair painted in silence. You sat next to him and saw your sister's son painting a green dragon. You were surprised to see him there. Normally the child was always well hidden at home.

“They are just destroying lives. That's the only thing they know how to do…” Tom attacked again. Clark agreed and your father approached in silence, trying to pretend he didn't know, but he knew, of course he knew.

“Your mom had to go pick up your brother… Why don't you join Greg for dinner?” your father whispered as the four year old was still engrossed in his drawing. You scooped up the little boy, who clutched the paper in his hand as you walked up the back stairs.

Your house was on the second floor of your father's business. The metal steps creaked under your weight, but your father's eyes exerted a greater weight on you. He would never tell you anything. He hadn't told your sister before he died either, but the Targaryens had destroyed his life, the life of the people in that place... your life.

Greg stared blankly as you dressed him in his pajamas after dinner. Sitting on your bed, his purple eyes seemed empty and innocuous. It had always been like this. Consciousness never seemed to have reached that unwanted child. You ruffled his hair, almost expecting a smile, but he just fixed his eyes on you. Empty and deep. As if he knew everything and nothing at the same time. You sat down next to him and took off the new sneakers Aemond had forced you to accept.

“Today I saw a dragon,” you commented, also staring at the wall. The boy turned his head slightly. His huge eyes fixed on you. The stories you always told him seemed to be the only ones that woke him up from his lethargic state. “A green dragon, like the one you were painting,” you smiled at him and his eyes seemed to get even bigger.

Greg's real name was Aeron, courtesy of your sister and his father, Aegon Targaryen. Your sister had been stupid enough to get pregnant by that rebellious boy and die in childbirth, leaving her son alone. Your parents had wanted Aegon to keep the child, but it had been impossible. A child who was not like the others, a dragon locked in a home where they were hated. Greg. It was a much better name according to your father. Your grandfather had been called that.

The Targaryens had destroyed the town with the pollution emitted by their businesses, both legal and illegal, and your entire family. And you… you had fallen in love with one of them.

Greg ended up falling asleep with you while you waited for your mother and brother. Your father always closed the bar late, but it wasn't normal for them to take so long to come back. Something must have happened...

At midnight, the lock on the front door clicked and you went out into the hallway to see if your brother and mother were finally arriving. However, that was a big mistake.

“Be thankful they're not going to press charges,” your mother's words echoed throughout the house, no doubt she was scolding your brother. He uttered something incomprehensible in the state he was in. At the time, you didn't know it, but your older brother was in trouble with Aegon again... bloody knuckles. His lost look. The split lip. While you had made love with Aemond, Gregory had punched Aegon to death.

You stood petrified, contemplating him in silence. Just then he located you. “You're a whore who sells herself for a simple cocoa roll,” he whispered. He had never told you anything like that. He, unlike your father, had always known how to hide his anger towards you. But, that night was the one that changed everything.

“Gregory, stop it,” your mother scolded him, knowing before you what he had in mind, after all she had given birth to him… Gregory pounced on you. “Gregory!!!” your mother shouted it. His bloody nails dug into your brother's skin as he hit you while you fell to the ground.

Your father had only hit you that one time... only that one time... was all you could think as you received one blow after another. He grabbed your hair, stretched your neck, and choked you until you were unconscious... The Targaryens had destroyed everything you cared about... and the only thing you could think about was that Aemond would be angry when he saw your body full of bruises... The enormous Greg's eyes watched everything in silence. That child had only seen violence in his life.

The Targaryens always destroyed everything, and Aemond and the tattoo he now had on his shoulder were proof of that.

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen modern au #aemond modern au #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x fem!reader

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Sponsored by Archewell of Course

Finally we learn the true purpose of this fake royal inGRIFTus visit: MEgain's dream to purcha$e (not earn) a political appointment as an Ambassador for the perks: IPP status, a NYC apartment, luxurious international travel, power, stardom, etc.

In 2021 in the name of vaccine equity (and netflix), The Meghans secured a meeting with several WHO representatives involved w/The Clinton Global Initiative including the UN Under-Secretary General Winnie Byanyima.¹

MEgain replied "It's wonderful to be back..." just to make it clear that THIS trip is all about HER not him.

It seems that identifying as Misan Harriman's Nigerian cousin might be her golden ticket to the UN.

Meghan Markle was the most unaccomplished woman in that room of so-called Nigerian women leaders and certainly the least deserving of any political appointments or elected positions. She's treated women and men like TRASH. Hissing and harassing them to such lengths that they require therapy and seek new employment.

Sparry is absolutely complicit in their drive to give his wife undeserved power and authority over institutions and human beings. He'll assist her with love bombing Ngozi even just save what little hair remains on his head. He's a Eunuch.

From the Nigerian Defense Staff Visitor Book of General Christopher Musa

Sparry: "Thank you for welcoming us to your beautiful country. Together we will heal our troops. -Harry

MEgain: "With gratitude for the support of the Invictus community. And for welcoming me home." -M??

Did these female leaders discuss the women who have been raped and violated in the African Parks Scandal?

What about hundreds of abducted Nigerian children, most recently in broad daylight on March 7, 2024?

Look at this lovely room and compare it to the spaces The Meghans publicized to the mainstream media on their tour. Spot the difference. Who do you think matters most, the wounded or the powerful?

The good news is that The MEghans have a very long history of lying, cheating, mistreating innocent people, and even mocking God.

No matter what doors 43% of bull chite will open, God will not be mocked. Sparry had the temerity to walk into Saint Paul's and read from the holy scriptures as if he's some authority on serving God while he nails his bloodline to the media's cross.

Cry out for mercy, Harry!

God will not be mocked, whatever a man sows that will he also reap.

MEgain thinks she can rebrand her ancestry and whore her way into achieving all her personal & professional goals.

Whatever she has sown, she will reap.

"An afternoon of joy, love and sharing of experiences with leading Nigerian women from across the spectrum- Public Sector, Private Sector, Civil Society, a mixture of young and old. Co hosted by Meghan the Duchess of Sussex and myself, and moderated by @MoAbudu

Talking about what it means to be a woman leader, how difficult it is to get there, and the sisterhood and brotherhood that is needed to help make leadership work. Also had a fantastic panel made up of Dr @OmobolaJohnsonHon Minister @DrDorisAnite @achenyoio@miss_asagba Dr. Mairo Mandara and CNN’s @StephanieBusari who all shared their special experiences.

Sponsored by "Archewell Women in Leadership"

Soho House's Misan Harriman but not Sparry🤔

She never cared about those less fortunate people The #Kigali of Today is the African Parks Rapes

She adored Elizabeth until she refused to place her in the Ambassador position with Emma Watson. When she had the opportunity for REVENGE she took it out on all the women waiting to meet her at the Fiji Market which included the UN Women and the Royal Tour Staff.

The Malta Ancestry Lie: "oh I do sort of blend in, and it's the loveliest feeling." Unfortunately for the Maltese tourist authority, Meghan's published article made NO MENTION MALTA!!!

"Meghan identifies 1st and foremost as the business woman. Money is Meghan's priority." P77

Numerous Bridges Burned. She has markled herself.

WTO | 2021 News items - History is made: Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala chosen as Director-General

She'sa globalist WEFer: "The General Council decision follows months of uncertainty which arose when the United States initially refused to join the consensus around Dr Okonjo-Iweala and threw its support behind Trade Minister Yoo Myung-hee of the Republic of Korea. But following Ms Yoo's decision on 5 February to withdraw her candidacy, the administration of newly elected US President Joseph R. Biden Jr. dropped the US objection and announced instead that Washington extends its “strong support” to the candidacy of Dr Okonjo-Iweala."

History is made: Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala chosen as Director-General

WTO members made history today (15 February) when the General Council agreed by consensus to select Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala of Nigeria as the organization’s seventh Director-General.

When she takes office on 1 March, Dr Okonjo-Iweala will become the first woman and the first African to be chosen as Director-General. Her term, renewable, will expire on 31 August 2025.

“This is a very significant moment for the WTO. On behalf of the General Council, I extend our warmest congratulations to Dr Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala on her appointment as the WTO's next Director-General and formally welcome her to this General Council meeting,” said General Council Chair David Walker of New Zealand who, together with co-facilitators Amb. Dacio Castillo (Honduras) and Amb. Harald Aspelund (Iceland) led the nine-month DG selection process.

“Dr Ngozi, on behalf of all members I wish to sincerely thank you for your graciousness in these exceptional months, and for your patience. We look forward to collaborating closely with you, Dr Ngozi, and I am certain that all members will work with you constructively during your tenure as Director-General to shape the future of this organization,” he added.

Dr Okonjo-Iweala said a key priority for her would be to work with members to quickly address the economic and health consequences brought about by the COVID-19 pandemic.

“I am honoured to have been selected by WTO members as WTO Director-General,” said Dr Okonjo-Iweala. “A strong WTO is vital if we are to recover fully and rapidly from the devastation wrought by the COVID-19 pandemic. I look forward to working with members to shape and implement the policy responses we need to get the global economy going again. Our organization faces a great many challenges but working together we can collectively make the WTO stronger, more agile and better adapted to the realities of today.” Her full statement is available here.

The General Council decision follows months of uncertainty which arose when the United States initially refused to join the consensus around Dr Okonjo-Iweala and threw its support behind Trade Minister Yoo Myung-hee of the Republic of Korea. But following Ms Yoo's decision on 5 February to withdraw her candidacy, the administration of newly elected US President Joseph R. Biden Jr. dropped the US objection and announced instead that Washington extends its “strong support” to the candidacy of Dr Okonjo-Iweala.

Amb. Walker extended his thanks to all eight of the candidates who participated in the selection process and particularly to Ms Yoo “for her ongoing commitment to and support for the multilateral trading system and for the WTO”. His full statement is available here.

The General Council agreed on 31 July that there would be three stages of consultations held over a two-month period commencing 7 September. During these confidential consultations, the field of candidates was narrowed from eight to five and then two. On 28 October, General Council Chair David Walker of New Zealand had informed members that based on consultations with all delegations Dr Okonjo-Iweala was best poised to attain consensus of the 164 WTO members and that she had the deepest and the broadest support among the membership. At that meeting, the United States was the only WTO member which said it could not join the consensus.

The consultation process undertaken by the chair and facilitators was established through guidelines agreed by all WTO members in a 2002 General Council decision. These guidelines spelled out the key criteria in determining the candidate best positioned to gain consensus is the “breadth of support” each candidate receives from the members. During the DG selection processes of 2005 and 2013, breadth of support was defined as “the distribution of preferences across geographic regions and among the categories of members generally recognized in WTO provisions: that is (Least developed countries), developing countries and developed countries”. This same process, agreed by all members in the General Council in 2020, was strictly followed by Chair Walker and his colleagues throughout the 2020-21 DG selection process.

The process for selecting a new Director-General was triggered on 14 May when former Director-General Mr Roberto Azevêdo informed WTO members he would be stepping down from his post one year before the expiry of his mandate. He subsequently left office on 31 August.

¹Winnie Byanyima UN Under-Secretary Gen & ED of UNAIDS since 2019: "Byanyima was appointed as the executive director of UNAIDS in August 2019, by the United Nations Secretary-General, António Guterres, following a comprehensive selection process that involved a search committee constituted by members of the UNAIDS Programme Coordinating Board. In her new position she concurrently serves as a United Nations Under-Secretary-General. In addition to her role at UNAIDS, Byanyima also serves a two-year term as a member of the World Bank Group’s (WBG) Advisory Council on Gender and Development. Since 2022, she has been a member of the Commission for Universal Health convened by Chatham House and co-chaired by Helen Clark and Jakaya Kikwete."

#Misan Harriman #Soho House #The UN #Nigerian Scammers #megxit #spare us #meghan markle #worldwide privacy tour #Arche Scam #fake royal tour #meghan markle is a liar #meghan markle is a bully #meghan markle is a fraud #revenge #tom bower #malta #seeking her identity #finding freebies #ambassador dreams #new york city #political appointment #money is her identity #43% bs #frauds #Nigerian Frauds #ancestry #African Parks Scandal #Bring Back Our NIGERIAN GIRLS 2.0 #markled nigeria 🇳🇬 #inGRIFTus

[hritika1]

Nail Care Market Industry

The global nail care market was valued at US$ 10.9Bn in 2021; It is estimated to advance at a CAGR of 8.0% from 2022 to 2031

#nail care market growth #nail care market major players #nail care market revenue #nail care market share #nail care market size

[tippenfunkaport]

I have no idea how to say this without sounding… pretentious? arrogant? but nothing makes me more annoyed than when people comment on my fics like they think they are giving me writing advice or craft feedback. Because, first of all, I did not ask for your opinion and it’s just plain rude to give unsolicited criticism.

Secondly, I know how to write, pal. Like… literally. For pay, teach classes on it, the whole shebang.

But the whole fun of fanfic for me is not having to care about doing it right and just writing whatever I want in the way I haven’t been able to do since I was 10 years old and writing in a glittery notebook on long car rides. As sad as it sounds, knowing how to write properly takes lot of the fun out of it and I cannot tell you how enjoyable it is to let myself write the whole padded, self indulgent version of the scene in my head with no fat trimmed, no darlings killed, no effort to map out the needs & wants, no worry about if I can sell this or if I nailed the market. I can just throw whatever nonsense down on the page I feel like because the only demographic I have to please is me.

Which is not to say that I deliberately write badly! Sometimes I like showing off. But most times I just want to make the blorbos hang out and phone it in. I'm obviously not putting the effort into a fanfic I'm posting for fun like I would a paid gig and nothing kills the fun of it like someone dissecting and evaluating it like I'm still at work.

Trying my hardest or not, I’m writing the way I choose for ME and sharing it for FREE and even if I was a brand new writer who had no idea what I was doing, I assure you that when fanfic writers say they want comments, they are not looking for feedback or critique, they are just looking for a thank you for their time and to know what parts you liked about it.

That’s it.

#fanfic woes #fanfic writing #fic writing #writing #writer #writers #writers on tumblr #writerscorner #writing community #writblur #writblr #archive of our own #ao3 #fanfic etiquette #writeblr community #writerblr

[the-phantom-author]

Hasan Piker | genral dating headcannons

I caved and wrote most of these at 3am. Enjoy.

@starsyoubreaklikesugardust

Probably meet through a friend, i picture Caroline, Austin, or maybe QT

Very chaotic first couple of months, he is a busy man with a very full schedule. That being said, he makes time for you.

Like he'd set an alarm just to make sure he messages you in the morning and calls at night when he doesn’t see you.

You stay at his house often. As much as he is busy during the day, the morning and night are reserved for the both of you.

He's not a huge fan of sharing each other's clothes, but does love matching clothes. He just likes it when he can see you both wearing the same jacket or shirt.

That being said, you have full access to his jewelry drawer. The look that would adorn his face when he sees you wearing his bracelets or necklaces. Buy him a bracelet with both of your initials on it, trust me.

Cute local dates, like hole in the wall coffee shops, family owned restaurants, farmers markets. 

He is also a show off. Surprise fancy dinners, going to award shows and events. All while also being an icon during irl streams, you may not be a streamer but you're always good for content.

Popping up on stream every so often, usually just to give him food or something to drink, but there are several stream series that you’re involved in.

True Crime reacts being the main one, doing Bob Ross painting together encouraging chat to join in, bringing back the cooking streams and cooking stuff together, making things out of clay, ect.

Being the person who calms him down, having to remind him that chatters are just that, chatters. And that sometimes internet drama can be left online.

Doing each others self care routines, paint his nails, brushing each others hair, forcing him to do face mask.

#hasanabi #hasanabi x reader #Hasan x reader #Hasan Piker x reader #hasan piker #Hasan x you #Hasanabi x you #my writing #i think if i write more it'll go on a side blog #but who knows

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

I have been in a bit of a writing slump lately, but fret not, I am back, baby. Today, we have the lovely, the beautiful, and stunning Ralof who meets...Taarie and she completely roasts him. (As she should.)

Tagging: @oblivions-dawn, @dirty-bosmer, @inkysqueed, @skyrim-forever, @umbracirrus, @sylvienerevarine @changelingsandothernonsense @ladytanithia @bougainvillea-and-saltwater , @bostoniangirl21 , @vivifriend , @theoneandonlysemla and anyone else who wants to join me on this crazy endeavor. I don't bite. Come share your words!

Solitude, the bustling metropolis and once capital of Skyrim, is too busy for Ralof’s liking. Why did he decide to follow Elisindir here again? A red blush creeps up from under his collar as he remembers the feel of—

Not now. He swallows and bites his lip, his eyes flicking back and forth across the bustling market square. It is almost as distracting as Sentinel. Produce to the left, expensive dyed fabrics to the right. Would Dahlia like some of the embroidered silks? Ralof shakes his head. That is not what he is here for, and he is becoming too distracted. Perhaps if there is time later he can peruse the wears outside the stall in front of Radiant Raiment, but he has more important things to do.

“You’ve never seen a bath before in your life, have you?” 

A voice calls out to him in the crowd, and when he turns to look, he can see a bored-looking Altmer woman filing her nails as she leans against the eaves of the clothing shop. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Who else would I be talking to?” She clicks her tongue at him as her eyes scan down his body. “I don’t see any other men around her dressed in rags which look right about to blow off of him at the slightest breeze.”

“I take offense to that. High King Ulfric—”

“Blah, blah, blah. All I hear is whining. You’ve wasting valuable time which I could be using to help you when instead you choose to argue with me.” The woman leans forward, nodding down at the many colored fabrics before her. “I saw you eyeing some of these. If you happen to have a wife and wish to keep her—”

“I—I, um,” he shakes his head, but finds himself walking over to her stall anyway. How is it that this woman is doing this? “Well, wife, no, but a friend and perhaps—”

“I don’t really care what your story is. All I care about is alleviating the eyesore from my current vista…and the the coin jingling in your pockets, of course.” She gives him a smile which doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Taarie, a pleasure or something like that.” 

#skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #ralof of riverwood #taarie #if you squint we mention #ulfric stormcloak #dahlia wintersnow #winter writes #wip wednesday

[my-ceiling-is-tilted]

Hey, it's been a minute

Life's been busy, of course, but that's not really the reason I haven't been posting here. In case you missed it, staff have at this point confirmed that they'll be selling user data to Midjourney for use in generative ai training datasets. While I have opted out of third-party data sharing in my blog settings (and you should do that too if you haven't!!), I'm still not terribly satisfied with this platform's handling of the situation.

Tumblr has, over the last year especially, demonstrated a complete lack of care or respect for the human beings that use their site. In this light, I do not expect them to follow through on this new venture with any regard for ethics or artists. If they cannot manage to moderate poc or trans women's blogs with the respect and gravity folks deserve on such a fundamental level, I cannot imagine the pattern will suddenly shift to value any one of us over marketability and profit.

I'm considering this development the final nail in a coffin that's been pretty much built for a while now.

My art on this blog will remain up, as an archive, because I consider the damage to be done. I will not be posting additional work here in the future. My sideblog might remain active to some extent (In case staff invents more hidden switches to flip without telling anyone), but I'm disinterested in my intellectual property being farmed for content generators without my consent (which I have not given) and appropriate compensation (which I have not received).

If you like my stuff, and want to see more, I'll be over on cohost pretty much exclusively, so feel free to come say hi. There's hot new art over there that neither you, nor Midjourney, have seen from me yet.

If this is where we part ways, thank you for all the kind words, rbs, and likes over the years. tumblr was my first experiment with posting my art publicly, and while it truly sucks for things to end this way, I'm happy for the time I've spent on here, and the friends I've made along the way.

#digital art #artists on tumblr #tumblr changes #ai art #third-party sharing