professionalism is attractive

Shy Girl

Prompt: The reader goes unnoticed at the job (not at all the famous type, etc) and she’s really shy but once you get to know her she is really sweet and funny. She likes Baron from the moment she lays eyes on him and so does he but neither believes the other is interested so they don’t do anything to actually get to know each other. Sexual tension and love follows that is too palpable to overlook. Cute and fluffy, maybe smutty.  @hiitsmecharlie This became really long…

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forbes.com
The Most Attractive Employers For Business Students Around The World
A report released this week provides a global outlook on which opportunities are most appealing to business students the world over, with banks and professional services providers faring particularly well.
By Kathryn Dill

eccentricute  asked:

"wait are you jelly" FOR CALUM PLS

(#5: “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”)

It wasn’t the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last, but it still stung every time a girl left Calum’s room with sex hair and rumpled clothes, her makeup smudged all over her face. You weren’t anyone special to Calum, but for some stupid reason your heart raced whenever you were around him. It was torture when it was his turn in your chair; your job as the band’s makeup artist becoming harder and harder to be professional at as your attraction and frustration grew towards Calum.

Being the makeup artist, you had first hand access and knowledge to basically everything in the boy’s life; the dark circles under their eyes from lack of sleep, the redness of their noses when they had colds, the dryness of their chapped lips in humid cities, and unfortunately, the hickies dotting their bodies. Your job was to make the boys look as presentable and “normal” as possible, meaning all their imperfections were to be covered up.

This morning, Luke and Ashton had been a breeze. Both of the boys had recently been spending less time going out in whatever city the tour was stopped in and as a result, sleeping more. Their makeup was done in less than five minutes, and even Michael with his dark circles from playing his video games to three a.m. were easy to deal with. Calum… not so much.

“Damn,” Luke remarked, glancing at Calum’s neck and chest area after you asked him to take off his shirt. “That girl did a number on you.”

Calum smirked in reply but said nothing, the quirk of his lips only growing larger as the other two hooted in agreement at him, his chest puffing out in pride.

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I see lots of feminism toward the younger girls of this generation but where’s the feminism for those older women who are conditioned to feel ugly as they age while guys are conditioned to feel more professional and attractive? Why is it that in so many movies, there are men who look 50 yet their wives look 30? Why do women get commercials for products that erase wrinkles and graying of the hair while men literally get commercials for hair dye that adds gray to their hair? Why are women not allowed to age?

If there are any older women reading this, I just want to tell you that you look lovely today 

Respect my Ratchet: The Liberatory Consciousness of Ratchetness

Recently someone interviewing me asked me to define ‘ratchet’, but I couldn’t at that moment. A few days later though, I found myself urging a group of Black students standing in solidarity with Mizzou to be free and embrace their ‘ratchet’. Both of these incidents made me think a lot about what I mean when I say I’m ratchet. Today in a Black feminist panel discussion with the nonpareil Dr. Linda Carty, I figured it out: ratchet is the embodiment of Black femme liberatory consciousness.

Academics like Barbara J. Love define liberatory consciousness as the ability to live life in oppressive institutions with intentionality and awareness, rather than internalizing the socialization those institutions have imposed. A liberatory consciousness enables us to maneuver through oppressive society without giving in to self-pity and dejectedness… and if that aint ratchet…. What is!??

Being a Black woman in a white patriarchal society positions Black women and femmes in unique relation to power and privilege. Being seen as attractive, professional, intelligent, or successful is a fight when those attributes are saturated with Whiteness, maleness, and heteronormativity. In order to find some piece of acceptance into these systems, Black folks welcomed respectability politics – basically values and beliefs that police ourselves in an effort to impose dominant White values. You know them: dress nice, work harder, pull your pants up, don’t eat watermelon in public, close your legs, get a perm, speak like you got some sense, tuck in yo Blackness! These politics are especially impossible and violent to Black women and femmes who are most regulated and silenced by them. Respectability leaves Black women and femmes walking a tightrope of trying to appear worthy of being respected by Black men and everyone else. It’s a suffocating place to be, and as a fat Black lesbian, I fell off of that tightrope a long time ago. What was the safety net? RATCHET!

Originally posted by fiercegifs

Awareness is the first element of a liberatory consciousness. Ratchet awareness? CHECK! From the moment I stepped foot into a college classroom I was aware of how I was different and why. My hair, my clothes, my skin, my growin up in the hood… and the way I talked! When trying to change all that failed, I embraced ratchet. I repped Queens harder than I ever had, proud of Sutphin Boulevard that equipped me with a language my white classmates couldn’t understand and my English professors tried to erase. I learned quickly that under white supremacy, Black English must be devalued – relegated to ratchet. If we laugh at and devalue the way Black folks talk, we internalize that we don’t have our own language… but we do! Yeen never seen a white muh fukka try to figure out what the hell we talmbout? They be lost! And beyond that, awareness is the ability to notice, paying attention to our language. Ratchet makes room for the art of shade, a good read, and all the other nuanced ways we communicate as Black folks. Ratchet is also the undercurrent of awareness of other black folks. How is it that we ALL know the electric slide? The Cupid Shuffle? To close grandma’s door because we ‘lettin her good air out ‘cause we don’t pay no bills round here’? It’s the ratchet! The awareness and ways of knowing we hide from the white gaze.

Analysis is the second element of a liberatory consciousness. Ratchet analysis? CHECK! Analysis is all about ways of being that will yield the best results in a given situation. That’s that code switchin’ that is embodied in the ratchet. I can always tell who my momma is talking to on the phone based on her voice – white voice, the power company; loud voice, her sister. We don’t talk to hegemonic institutions the same way we talk to each other. Within community we have freedom to show our range of true selves – laughing, crying, twerkin, sewing our bundles in. We feel the liberation we strive for as a people and we run wit it!  This element of ratchet allows for creativity in the way we express ourselves, body positivity, and subverting gender binaries. Ratchet analysis tells us we can behave however the fuck we want and switch it up whenever we damn well please – because we are free. Big ole booties, crooked smiles, rainbow bangs, all excluded from the hegemonic standards of beauty that tell us our bodies are wrong. Ratchet makes room for it all, telling us our bodies aren’t wrong, they just is what they is.

And there’s something particularly feminist about being ratchet. It’s not a term I hear ascribed to men or used too often by men – even though it leaves room for expressions of masculinity that respectability just won’t rock with – like Young Thug. Ratchet asserts that women don’t have to be Michelle Obama or Janet Mock to be influential, feminists, or revolutionary. Ratchet allows Cardi B to be just as influential and feminist – wholly embracing sexuality, herself, and other women makin’ shmoney however they can.

Originally posted by thatblasiangirl

Ratchet is revolutionary in the way that it does not play to being palatable for whiteness. Unlike respectability politics, ratchet is attainable for black folks of all social class. Ratchet provides the space for Black folks – women and femmes especially – to subvert the white gaze and explore the presentation of self that they truly feel comfortable with. Ratchet is the freedom to laugh out loud, dance in public, cuss somebody’s ass out, bring your entire self into all you do. Ratchet is knowledge that can be shared across Black communities and is not bound by geography, social class, or level of traditional education. So why are Black students, activists, and student activists so afraid of ratchet? Because white hegemony has told us we can’t love ourselves or be free to be who we are and respectability still has us falsely believing that if we are good enough negroes, we will ‘make it’. We know that respectability fails us… so what do we have to lose from forgetting that shit and defining ourselves? I’m here for embracing the gutter glam liberation of ratchetness. 

Laevinic Defeat [Cinder/Pyrrha]

As one of Vale’s fastest rising professional tournament fighters, Pyrrha attracts sponsors from all across Mistral. Cinder’s methods of persuading new clients just happen to be more effective than most.

Pyrrha’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “What could you possibly hope to gain from this?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Having such a remarkable young woman…” Cinder paused, fixing her with an appraising look that only darkened Pyrrha’s blush, “in my employ is a delight in itself.”

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Preference #71 You're In The Same Class

Note: I love this one, I hope you do too :)

Liam- Your dream was to be a singer, so you finally decided to take vocal lessons. The class was small, only about eight people showed up but you didn’t mind, you liked the personal feel that would come with such a small size. “Sorry for being late,” the teacher announced clearing his throat “Now, my name is Liam Payne and I look forward to improving your vocal skills.” He was professional, talented and very attractive, you thought to yourself. The girls in the class were clearly trying to impress him but he’d remain unfazed until you performed a ballad, “Wow, I’m wondering what you’re doing in my class, miss. It seems you’ve little to improve.” After a few classes and chats, Liam finally made his move.

Harry- It was the first day of college classes for you and you were extremely nervous to try and make friends, since it wasn’t your forte. Being an exemplary student, you sat in the second row and hoped for at least two more people to join you, but none came. Great, you thought, first day of class and no one to sit with. The professor entered and right at that moment you saw a tall, handsome student swing in and take the first seat he saw, which was next to you. “Hey, mind sharing the book? I haven’t bought mine yet,” he kindly asked. You nodded and after class he invited you to join him for lunch and for many more to come. 

Zayn- You were dating a professor who not only was smart and witty, but as handsome as any man could possibly be. Your love life was completely perfect, now all you had to focus on was classes. Zayn never did tell you which specific college he taught at, since there were about ten in the city, but you soon found out what a big mistake that was. As you entered your Foreign Cultures class, you were shocked to see your boyfriend standing behind the desk. Cursing under your breath, you took a seat. It took Zayn a while to find you in the crowd but when he saw you, he couldn’t repress a smile. When class ended he waited for you at the door and raised an eyebrow “I know, I’ll drop the class,” you told him “Where’s the fun in that?” he interjected with a charming smile.

Niall- It was the last year of high school and you’d be done with all the annoying, obnoxious, dumb jocks that would only disrupt class. You purposefully avoided taking easy classes so you wouldn’t have to deal with them. The last bell rang and your Psychology class began. Your gaze roamed around the room to see if you knew anyone and apart from a few familiar faces everyone was new to you. The teacher went through the roster and as she said “Niall Horan,” you turned your head only to find his blond hair and cocky smile looking at you. You two had always had some sexual tension no matter how much you hated him and his stupid sport “This will be interesting, right Y/N?” he said flashing one last grin and leaving you madly flustered.

Louis- Louis had to cease his education at seventeen but he always wanted to learn something more and be more intellectual. On the other hand, you had just got accepted into your favorite university so that gave Louis the idea to apply as well. With your help and encouragement he got in. “See? Told you they’d never deny a celebrity,” ecstatic, Louis already had in mind classes to take “I’d like to take business classes, and maybe join the football team” he said visiting the university’s website. As you picked your classes, he suggested you both take a class together. “That way we can help each other and maybe sneak a few kisses now and then.” He was very persuasive, so you chose to take a science lab class in the evening.

On September 1, readers will be able enjoy a long-hidden treasure of natural history with the release of The Butterflies of North America: Titian Peale’s Lost Manuscript. Based on a never-before-published manuscript preserved for nearly a century in the American Museum of Natural History’s Rare Book Collection, the book is packed with color plates bearing Peale’s beautiful illustrations of butterflies and caterpillars.

Titian Ramsay Peale II (1799–1885) was an American artist and naturalist from a well-known Philadelphia family. His father, historian and painter Charles Willson Peale, founded the Philadelphia Museum. He also named three other sons for famous painters: Rembrandt, Rubens, and Raphaelle.

True to his namesake, Titian Peale was a Renaissance man—a painter, naturalist, butterfly collector, explorer, hunter, and early photographer. He painted his first professional commission—plates to attract subscribers to Thomas Say’s American Entomology—at age 16. The next year he was elected to full membership in the newly founded Academy of Natural Sciences.

As an adult, Peale was dogged by hardship, including the early death of his first wife and children and persistent financial difficulties. But Peale never gave up on his masterwork,Butterflies of North America, preparing a prospectus in 1833 and continuing to work on it until his death in 1885. A family member donated the manuscript to the Museum in 1916. After nearly a century in the archives, this masterpiece is finally emerging from its cocoon. 

Read more on the Museum blog.