I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
macklin celebrini has autism
ellievsbear
★
roma★
noise dept.
Mike Driver
KIROKAZE
d e v o n
⁂
Origami Around
Kaledo Art
almost home
🪼
we're not kids anymore.
Today's Document
PR's Tumblrdome
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
RMH
seen from Russia
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@purexpression-blog
Unfortunately, I’m going to update my status to a full indefinite hiatus. I haven’t been feeling my Jefferson muse as much lately. I’m still going to keep the blog and may revisit it one day. Thank you all for sticking with me. It’s been a wonderful journey, and I’ve met a lot of great people on here! If you’d like to keep chatting with me OOC, please message me on my personal (@faded-smiles).
-Heather
the archetype quiz
Tagged by: @maxselfiecaulfield (thanks! :3)
Test: https://www.qzzr.com/c/quiz/313907/the-archetype-quiz
your archetype is the master.
(disclaimer: the master archetype is not a reflection of what a horrible person you are. ie: jyn erso and mary talbot are both extremely intelligent and driven people because they use their traits for good--although mary's character can be quite ambiguous in the earlier seasons)
traits: determined, obsessive, powerful, charismatic, confident, rash, challenging
the master is most commonly used to symbolize the antagonist, or the upper hand. while they aren't inherently the bad guys, their determination and ability to plan ahead can be twisted into something akin to evil. while that is a strong possibility in literature, their charisma and confidence can be utilized to create a strong idea and even an idea for the good side. many masters were the catalysts of revolutions, sparking hope and motivation. masters are extremely rash in their decisions, no matter how meticulous their planning may be. they tend to follow their instincts, and it's a good thing that they're so quick on their feet, otherwise, many of the challenges they face might have become uglier than expected.
fictional characters that are masters: tom riddle, jyn erso, thetis, mary talbot, irene adler, moriarty, tyrion lannister, cersei lannister, the joker
other personality types that go with this: alexander hamilton
maxselfiecaulfield:
Max almost leapt off her dorm room bed when her phone vibrated. She couldn’t believe the name Mark came up on her phone. It was like a dream. Someone please pinch me - or maybe don’t. I want to live in this dream if it is a dream for a while. Her inner ramblings making her zone out momentarily before shaking her head.
She grabbed her bag, bundled up with a hat, scarf and jacket putting on knee high black boots with her leggings. She was a bit more feminine, but Mark sorta had that affect on her. She wanted to look her best.
She reached his car, it was black, sleek and beautiful. Just like him. She blushed, but was happy she could blame her rosy cheeks on the cold. She put her bag in the back before getting into the passenger’s seat and buckling in. It was so strange to be in the car with him - but oddly comforting. It even smelled like him - leather, cigarettes and cologne.
She gently smiled at him before looking out the window. What should I say? Or should I say anything at all? Her silence keeping her occupied.
“Hey,” Mark greeted when Max got into the car. His eyes took her in like a camera, noting how she had dressed up a little more for him. She wore much nicer clothes than just her jeans and t-shirt. He smirked at the fact. He loved the power he had. He liked that he could bring out the best in Maxine Caulfield.
He put his arm on the back of the passenger’s seat deliberately as he backed out of the space he was in. Soon they were leaving the parking lot behind and getting on the road. As they drove, Mark turned on radio, opting for the jazz station. He enjoyed the complexities of the music and how each instrumentalist followed the beat of their own drum. But everything always worked together, and he liked how no live performance was ever the same in jazz because of the improv. Unlike most things, he could never get bored of jazz.
“How are you, Max?” Mark asked after a while, glancing at her for a moment while they drove. They were a mile away from the highway. “Not too cold, right? I could always turn up the heat.” He needed to give the illusion that he cared. She needed to feel comfortable around him.
For the anon that requested it. Here’s the audio of Jefferson in the nightmare maze.
Also here’s the audio for Frank, Nathan, and Warren.
quccnvictoria:
The stalker groupies seemed to sense his indifference towards them, and Victoria couldn’t resist flashing them a smug grin accompanied by a dismissive wave. Turning her attention back on Mark, she was pleasantly surprised that he seemed to recognize her, the flattery quickly dashed as he mentioned her father. Of course. Lips briefly drawing into a thin line as she tried to think of how to carry the conversation away from her family, she glanced out into the buzzing auditorium and looked back to her soon-to-be teacher with a smile.
“Why don’t we sit down? I actually have some questions about the curriculum, and, er, if you don’t mind I’d like you to look at my portfolio? I have it stored on my phone, so…. Yeah.” Laughing easily, she added, “I know, I have like, two years until I even graduate and high school students rarely get gallery shows but I’d like to get a head start.”
Not giving him the chance to agree or disagree, Victoria plucked a few pieces of fruit from the assortment, put them on a plate and walked towards the table. She turned back to make sure he was indeed following, and pulled out her phone, preparing her portfolio. It had been a work in progress for about a year, always changing and trading out pictures that weren’t exactly up to standard. Her work was mostly candids of people on the streets of Seattle, as well as a few shots she’d snuck during LA fashion week when she’d gone. It was an obvious nod to Richard Avedon, who Victoria was attempting to model her career after.
Staring at the pictures for a moment, she looked up at him and offered him her phone. “Here. You don’t need to look through the whole thing, I just want any feedback you can give me.”
@quccnvictoria
Already, Mark started seeing some of himself in this girl. Her suggestion to sit down showed how she also enjoyed taking the reins. Mark hated being a follower, but he decided he would play along for the sake of making a connection---or what this girl believed to be a connection. Social interactions never went skin-deep. He handled everyone on a surface level. Even when he began to obsess over his subjects, he could never love them. Teenage flavors of the month---that’s all they were. The stars turned into stardust as soon as he finished his art.
“Well, how can I say no to that ambition?” Mark asked rhetorically, chuckling as he followed Victoria to the table. He set his plate down and took a seat beside her. When she prepared her phone, he took the chance to eat a cracker with some cheese on it. As soon as the phone was ready, however, he wiped his hands clean with a napkin, careful that no crumbs were left behind on his fingertips. Mark respected technology more than people, and he had no interest in sullying the girl’s phone, even if her fingerprints were all over it.
Mark accepted the phone gingerly and began scrolling through the digital portfolio. Reading her name on top of the website, he confirmed that this was indeed the daughter of the prestigious Chase family. Victoria already appealed to him. Even if he didn’t use her as a model, there was the potential to use her and her family as a monetary resource. She may have not been Prescott-rich, but she was still rich all the same.
“I see you have an interest in high fashion and portraiture,” Mark said as he looked through the candid shots of well-dressed people in Seattle in their winter wear, along with the stealthy shots from LA’s fashion week. “You may have what it takes to make it as a paparazzo.” He was smug and precise enough to use the dead singular form of paparazzi, always keen on the details, be it in words or a composition. “But judging from the care you took in framing these images, I don’t think your pursuits are purely monetary. A lot of these photos are very Avedon-esque.”
He passed the phone back to Victoria and looked into her eyes. “I’m going to challenge you to photograph models who pose specifically for you. It’s a challenge all good photographers need to overcome. You can’t depend solely on them to craft your next masterpiece. You need to give proper direction.” He paused for a moment to let the information sink in. “Also, try doing more black and white photography. Focus on the light treatment---the chiaroscuro, in controlled studio environments. The street photos you took are interesting, but some of the lighting effects you achieved may have been pure luck.”
amaninyellow:
But a chuckle released from the mouth, as ends of lips pulled back even more. The rage growing within the photographer was ever so visible in both face and voice, and it brought great joy to the professor. Joy that he was able to induce such an emotion within the other. Joy that he knew more about Max Caulfield than the one who believed to be her ‘number 1 fan’. Joy that he was IN CONTROL of the situation.
Chuckle to fade. Mouth to close. Smile to remain. Hands to unfold from behind back and finger tips to be placed upon desk as the man leaned forward, eyes looking upon him like he felt sorry that the man was so ignorant to who Max truly is.
“Well, Mr. Jefferson if you truly are so eager to know.“ Another chuckle. Smaller and shorter this time. “What if I were to tell you that Miss Caulfield was a…’gifted’ person? And no, I don’t mean in just the art of photography nor in the way of a disability. I’m talking about more along the lines of powers as if she was ripped out straight from a comic.“
The hate Mark felt for Eobard continued to grow. Nobody laughed at him. The sound of the other man chuckling sounded as painful as nails on a chalkboard, or more aptly as painful as some clumsy and careless individual dropping a high-end Hasselblad camera and causing the lens to scratch. He despised being looked down upon. He needed to be in control at all times, and he loathed how Eobard swept the rug from under his feet in a matter of moments.
The bastard kept toying with him, purposefully being slow with the information he doled out concerning Max. Eobard wanted Mark to hang on his every word. Much to Mark’s disgust, the other man was succeeding.
Mark processed what Eobard said, echoing the other’s words in his mind. Max? Gifted? Powers? Ripped straight out of a comic? The notion gave him pause. He had noticed that there seemed to be something weird about his latest obsession. He often experienced a sense of deja vu around her, like he repeated moments with her. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. But the recent bizarre snowfall in Arcadia Bay pointed to something strange happening. Could Max really be at the center of it?
“And what would these powers be?” Mark asked. “Time travel?” The words sounded so far-fetched, but it was the only idea that seemed to go along with the feelings of deja vu.
“Nate has his extreme moments, but… don’t we all?” ~ Hayden
Reminder that you can have 600 threads with me or only one, you can drop every thread you want to drop and start as many others as you want, you can reply to other people first and you can take all the time that you need without me stressing you out. This is a stress-free zone!
repost. DON’T reblog.
TAGGED BY: @maxselfiecaulfield (thanks!)
THE FACE YOUR MUSE MAKES WHEN HAPPY:
THE FACE YOUR MUSE MAKES WHEN SAD:
THE FACE YOUR MUSE MAKES WHEN THEY SEE SOMETHING THEY WANT:
THE FACE YOUR MUSE MAKES WHEN THEIR BERSERK BUTTON IS PUSHED:
THE FACE YOUR MUSE MAKES WHEN THEY SEE SOMEONE THEY DISLIKE:
｢ RULES: ｣ - post a song that reminds you of your muse and then tag 6 people whose songs you want to see.
I was tagged by @darkrccm (thanks!)
This is a tough one! I really like songs by Melanine Martinez and Lana Del Rey, though they usually remind me of songs centered around Jefferson and his female victims. All the songs on @toallofyouamxricangirls‘s playlist are just gold, too, and I totally feel all those songs for Jefferson. But if I had to pick out another one, I think I’d opt for “Escape” by Muse. I think the song would be in Nathan’s POV. It reminds me of the similarities the two share, but it also shows how Nathan’s so different from Jefferson and actually truly feels emotions, whereas Jefferson acts his emotions. The “Why can’t you just love her?” lyric reminds me of Rachel since she was connected to them both, and I believe Nate really cared for her, whereas Jefferson didn’t.
This particular excerpt shows the essence of Jefferson from Nathan’s perspective. I think these lyrics show how empty Jefferson feels on the inside, but they also how he’ll manipulate anyone to feel a sense of purpose.
You would say anything You would try anything To escape your meaningless And your insignificance You're uncontrollable And we are unloveable
tagging: @brighteyesandboundingheart, @everybody-usedme, @quccnvictoria, @bookwormbroflovski, @xendure, @watchingthroughthelens, and anyone who wants to! If you don’t want to do this and I tagged you, please feel free to ignore it. <3 @maxselfiecaulfield, I’ll tag you again, but I know you already were. XD
ALWAYS TAKE THE SHOT
A Mark Jefferson Playlist for @purexpression
Psycho Killer - Talking Heads We are vain and we are blind I hate people when they’re not polite Psycho Killer, qu'est-ce que c'est?
Dangerous - Big Data You understand they’ve got a plan for us I bet you didn’t know that I was dangerous It must be fate, I found a place for us I bet you didn’t know someone could love you this much
Perfect Day - The Constellations The wind blows cool across my face I can smell the taste, a trace of lace There’s something sinister in place It leaves me restless with no peace
Paint it, Black (cover) - Ciara I’ve seen your red door and I want it painted black No colours any more, I want them to turn black I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
Kennedy - Kill Hannah I wanna be a Kennedy I wanna be tall and handsome I’d conquer the world And you’d see it on television
“She Blinded Me With Science.”
HOME | RULES | ASK
INDEPENDENT | SELECTIVE | MULTI-VERSE Warren Graham from Life is Strange written by Chia
~ black ~
We Need to Talk || maxselfiecaufield
maxselfiecaulfield:
Max was shaking she was so nervous and giddy. She noticed Warren whistling and applauding it seemed everyone liked it. It was then she really noticed what he wore, almost like he was trying to be Jefferson. Grabbing her guitar and heading off the stage she saw the one man she was excited and nervous to see. Who am I kidding? I’m always nervous to see him.
“Mr. Jefferson! Y-you came.” Now she felt awkward since the song was about him. Damn it.. She rubbed the back of her neck, her face going red. He seemed happy and she rarely ever saw him smile and it was nice. It was like in her song that she wanted him to see her and finally he was actually looking at her. Only her. Which granted him a smile too and she was so happy to have him here.
She knew a lot of her guy friends liked her, but she just kept them as friends. Mark Jefferson seemed to be the only one who really stole her heart. It wasn’t his fame. It was him. His work for one thing made him relatable and artistic. But she loved his appearance the way he presented himself. She often thought of how things would turn out if she told him how she felt and this was the only really subtle way to do it.
One of the other people who wanted to go up coughed behind Max and she moved so that she was out of the way, a couple steps away from the stage. She completely forgot about Warren as Mark Jefferson had that effect on her for sure.
Mark noticed how Max trembled before him like a little flower. She may have been shaking more in front of him than she had been on stage. Of course, such a thing only boosted his ego further. Max falling head-over-heels in love with him convinced him that everything was going to plan. He knew he’d have her right where he wanted soon. This pleased him, as he’d never been a patient man. He’d learned how to be patient, but inside he was always restless and greedy.
He would have her in his dark room soon. Very soon.
“Of course I came, Maxine,” Mark replied, feeling confident enough to use her full name in that moment. He never cared whether she liked it or not. He always thought it had a nice ring to it. Max sounded ambiguous and fluid, whereas Maxine sounded feminine and refined. Calling her by her proper name seemed fitting considering the transformations that occurred inside her. She could still be Max, of course, but these moments where she tried to take control of her feelings showed courage and strength.
“You invited me, after all. And it would have been rude to turn down your invitation,” Mark added. “I had no idea you could sing. You really should make your voice known and keep putting yourself out there.” He put a hand on her shoulder to further her feelings for him. “First you submitted your photo and now you’re on stage... This has been a remarkable day for you.”
Warren weaved his way through the people and finally caught up with Max. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. When had Mr. Jefferson gotten here? He hadn’t even seen him come in. He felt like Jefferson may have kept his hand on Max’s shoulder for a little too long before he finally let it drop back down to his side. Weird. He always seemed super critical to Warren, but maybe that was only when it came to photos. Somehow he doubted it, though.
“Max! You were great!” Warren said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to him. “Oh, uh, hey Mr. J! Don’t tell me you’re gonna go up and do a number.”
Mark smirked, though he saw the move of Warren putting his arm around Max as possessive. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Warren. I’d only embarrass myself.” He studied the two of them, mind working quickly to sabotage Warren. “Did I walk in on a date?” he chuckled. In reality, he wasn’t amused by the notion. He was waiting for Max to reject Warren publicly.
everybody-usedme:
This new side of Jefferson was strange, to say the least. He seemed so needy and so unnecessary whiny. The moment Mark reaches for him, pressing his face into his shoulder, he freezes. Never in his life would he think he’d see his teacher almost in tears, nor did he think he’d ever see him this drunk and out of control.
Nathan frowns, lightly rubbing his back with one hand as he grabs his glasses with the other. “Dude, come on.. I just took your glasses off. You’re fine. Don’t be a bitch about this.” Putting Mark’s glasses on top of his own head, he uses his hands to try and sit the man up again. This time, he succeeded, though the grip on his jacket didn’t slack, and ended up pulling him closer than he wanted to be, nearly straddling the teacher before him.
Blushing brightly, he grabs Mark’s face, trying to get them to see eye to eye. “I can’t believe how much of a fucking douche you are. First you make me call you, then you make me put on this shitty god damn movie while you try to be smooth. Now you’re gonna act like a bitch because you’re too fucking hammered to realize I took you’re glasses off.” It was oddly satisfying being the one in control between the two of them. Normally it was Mark showing Nathan who’s boss. “Fuckin’ pull yourself together, old man. Fuck.”
Mark was too drunk to realize how uncomfortable he made Nathan, how the other’s body froze up and tensed. He never would have leaned so heavily against a person---literally and figuratively---had he been sober. He never wanted to be so weak and pathetic. He wanted control and strength. Now he had none of that. The copious amount of alcohol had stripped him of his usual power.
The way Nathan rubbed his back made him feel small, almost as if he were a child again, though his parents never showed him much affection growing up. The information about how Nathan had been the one to take his glasses processed slowly in his mind. “Wha--What?” he asked, his response muffled since he still had his face buried against Nathan’s shoulder.
Suddenly, the teenager grabbed his face, forcing them to lock in a stare, When he saw the glasses on top of Nathan’s head, relief sprinkled over him in small showers, though he couldn’t feel the full wave. He could see Nathan when they were this close, as he could see about a handspan away, his vision as pathetic as a rodent’s, which seemed ironic considering how sharp and clear he made images with his camera. He reached, grabbing his glasses off of Nathan’s head and putting them back on.
“The fuck d’you want from me? An apology?” Mark asked once Nathan finished. He nudged the teen back a little before putting both hands on his shoulders, using him to balance himself as he rose onto unsteady feet. “Not gonna happen. Let’s go t’bed,” he slurred. He tried to take some of the power back, but he ironically expected Nathan to lead them up to the bedroom.
Neiman Marcus the October Book 2014
