marcus stop

lmao i can’t believe 13 reasons why actually used to mean something to me and now people are kinda just ruining it?? by romanticizing??? everything??? like i hate to break it to you but:

  • Justin’s a rape sympathist not a ‘precious bby child’
  • Jessica SLAPPED hannah and didn’t even bother to hear her side of the story
  • Alex made the Hot or Not list??? like why does everyone keep forgetting that? Jessica wouldn’t have sex with him so HE FUCKING MADE A HOT OR NOT LIST. 
  • Tyler Down was really creepy (actually the fandom hates him enough as it is so nvmnd lol)
  • Courtney’s also hated enough by the fandom… at least that part got to them. 
  • Marcus isn’t talked about a lot tbh but he’s like the most typical asshole ever. Just fuck Marcus.
  • ZACH IS NOT A CINNAMON ROLL. He stole those notes, and while he is one of the better characters, you can’t just steal other people’s notes! I’m not saying he’s a bad person, but he sure as hell isn’t a fucking cinnamon roll.
  • Ryan Shaver you goddamn arrogant prick
  • Sheri should’ve called the cops. 
  • Ok. Even Hannah forgave Clay… but honestly… he’s done some pretty questionable stuff. Fighting everyone.. believing Justin (”sometimes waiting is better”?? really clay?) I mean he’s a good kid… but he could’ve been way better too. 
  • Bryce is completely irredeemable and should fucking rot in hell. And jail. Fucking rot in hell’s jail. 
  • Mr. Porter… what the fuck? is? your? problem? you absolute ignorant FUCK. 
  • and as always: JEFF ATKINS DID NOTHING WRONG (honestly though. I’ve rewatched his segments and literally? nothing? wrong?) 

my point here is STOP ROMANTICIZING THESE CHARACTERS. STOP SAYING WHAT THEY DID IS FINE. STOP. Someday someone’s gonna have a situation with someone similar to one of those characters and they’ll see others romanticizing them and just… fuck. I don’t even know what else to say. Just please. Stop. Romanticizing 13 reasons why. It makes it seem like suicide is okay. It makes it seem like suicide is ‘fashionable’. Please stop. Honestly. 

THE 100, new 4x07 title:

“They’re All Fucked Because Even the Devil Himself Knows That Everything Goes to Hell When Bellamy and Clarke Aren’t Together” – (9:00-10:00 p.m. ET) 

anyone: *even slightly implies that hannah may have been telling the truth*

courtney:

People who watched 13 reasons without reading the book

Please don’t pretend that you are a big fan when you didn’t know about the book before watching it on netflix. Stop saying that you actually care for suicide when you always say that the weak or the cowards do it. Stop saying that Hannah was an idiot for killing herself. Stop saying Justin Foley is a good person. Stop.
Just please stop.
Please.
A lot of us who read the book and love the book did it years ago and when we tried to make you read it you all said it was bullshit.
So please stop saying that is just the best.

6

“I WILL TAKE US DOWN TO A COSMIC ADAM AND EVE” | An AU where Arkadia doesn’t burn, there’s not enough nightblood serum to save everyone, and, and humanity divides into an uncertain future as those who have taken the serum remain outside, and some inside dozens of scouted bunkers. With the doors to Arkadia shut for five years with the radiation and black rain shutting down radio communications with the other groups, the directive inside becomes that everyone has to start having babies. And while Marcus and Abby didn’t plan on making a personal contribution to the cause, little Eden comes along anyway. The doors open shortly after her fourth birthday, and it’s a big wide world to explore in the coming years with the help of Mom and Dad… who are looking for praimfiya’s survivors. 

friendly reminder that episode 5 of thirteen reasons why foreshadowed Jeff’s death.

anonymous asked:

can you draw marcus kissing the main gang?

deadass so thankful for this ask…..ive gained 10 yrs to my life


and cant forget the most important:

Knuckles : Boxer!Ashton (Part 2)

sorry it took so long! special thank u to Ashley (@thesaltyspice) for helping me come up with ideas for this a million years ago xx

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

“Look at that one.”

“That one over there?”

“Yeah,” you confirm with a pout. “I want it.”

Ashton chuckles and looks to you at his side. “That’s the fourth dog you’ve said you wanted since we got here.”

It’s true, but you can’t help it. You always get dog-envy at the farmers’ market, exposed to too many cute pups at once for your little heart to handle.

“We should get one,” you say passively, adoring a large german shepherd trotting by with its owner. “Y'know, if we ever live together.”

Ashton smirks, turning his head. “I love how you’re not even worried about scaring me with plans for the future.”

Your cheeks redden, having not noticed the implications when you said it. It’s only been three months since the fight that started it all, since you and Ashton agreed to give your relationship a title, and you suppose you should be more careful about vocalizing your whimsical thoughts. Your guard just naturally falls around him, the pressure to play safe wiped away by his equal and obvious feelings toward you. Talk of commitment doesn’t affect him the way it does most people. If Ashton was going to run, he would’ve done so by now.

You glance down at his fingers between yours, smiling because you don’t think he’s let go of your hand all day. With his hectic training schedule for another upcoming fight and your demanding attendance at university four days a week, the two of you have recently been missing each other more than actually seeing each other, and it appears Ashton wants to make up for lost time in the form of suffocating your palm–not that you mind. For someone whose fists can be classified as lethal weapons, he has quite a gentle grip when it comes to you.

Keep reading

The One Where Marcus Loves A Cheerleader (Jeff Atkins)

Request: Maybe a smut where you’re a nerd dating Marcus and you walk in on him having sex with a cheerleader. He says that he cheated because you’re a prude who didn’t want to have sex with him. Jeff Atkins comforts you, admits his feelings and smut ensues. Later in the locker room, everyone teases Jeff asking where all his hickeys and scratches on his back came from and he looks straight into Marcus’s eyes and goes Y/N and Marcus doesn’t believe it until he sees you guys kissing in the hallway later.

-

“I just don’t understand why you can’t come out tonight. It’s just Bryce’s place, we’ll be there an hour, two hours max.” Marcus argues, rubbing his hand over his head in pure, unadulterated annoyance.

You take a special kind of pleasure in annoying him, and you can’t help it. He’s your boyfriend, but he’s clingy. He’s annoying.

“And I just don’t understand why you can’t go by yourself.” You retort, dry and humorless. “You keep asking, and I keep saying no. This is getting repetitive.”

“I just –” Marcus stops himself for a second, breathing in slowly. “I don’t get why you can’t study for Heitzman’s exam tomorrow night. It’s not like you’re gonna spontaneously combust if you relax for one fucking hour.”

“That’s literally – no, Marcus, that’s literally rich coming from you. ‘Relax,’ what the fuck?” You bite out with a sharp laugh. Marcus Cooley, telling you to relax. That’s a fucking joke.

“Jesus, fine. Fine, I’ll stop asking you, annoying you, whatever. It doesn’t matter, I’ll just go with the guys.” He relents, sitting himself on your couch, a thick layer of ice building between the two of you. He’s taken to acting like a petulant, whiny kid lately, and it’s exhausting.

“I’ll go to the next one Bryce has, okay?” You sigh, and Marcus gives you a curt nod. You feel your eye twitch in annoyance. “Seriously, I’ll go to the next one,” you persist, genuine this time, twisting yourself on the couch until you can lay your head on his lap. You nudge his knee. “Bitch, if you don’t answer …”

A smile cracks on his face.

“All right – but I’m holding you to that, understand?” He says, mockingly stern. “I’m gonna make you have fun if it’s the last thing I do.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

You grin when he kisses your forehead, laughing as he makes his way down to your lips. His own lips are chapped against yours, but you think you might like it.

Well, you think glumly. There are worse boyfriends to have.

-

It’s hours later and you’re in your room, two textbooks and three notebooks spread messily across your bed. You’re neck-deep in calculus when your phone vibrates for the umpteenth time for the night. You almost ignore it. Marcus and Sheri have been blowing up your phone for the the past hour, ranging from “bitch I know you didn’t make Marcus come by himself” to “bitch I can’t believe you actually made me come by myself.”

Tough love, you shrug to yourself. Only when your phone buzzes again do you look at it.

From: Mulholland Drive
U should seriously come I’m begging. Watch ur boy make a fool outta himself he’s tryna play beer pong rn lmao

You snort. Of course he is.

To: Mulholland Drive
pics or it didn’t happen

You look at your next message. The smile that slaps on your face is big enough to make you feel almost guilty.

Somewhat guilty.

Very guilty.

From: JoJo The Fool
where u at?

To: JoJo The Fool
At my humble abode

From: JoJo The Fool
I see ur boyfriend here, lookin lonely. U should stop by and join him

To: JoJo The Fool
Lemme take a wild guess and say

To: JoJo The Fool
u at Walker’s place

From: JoJo The Fool
ding ding!! u right

From: JoJo The Fool
seriously come over. bored without u. everyone’s left me

From: JoJo The Fool
acknowledge me or face the consequences

You laugh, typing out a quick reply before you can help yourself. And you literally can’t help yourself. Jeff is unnaturally kind. The type of kind that makes you feel bad for not being just as kind, if not more. Disappointing him is like metaphorically kicking a dog: it’s unforgivable and you’re probably going to hate yourself afterwards.

To: JoJo The Fool
needy bitch!! leave me alone lmao I’m studying for Heitzman

From: JoJo The Fool
ew stop. come over and I’ll help you study later. I actually have an A in his class

You lay your phone down. You’re not going to go, you tell yourself. You need to study. You need good grades. Good grades matter in life, parties hosted by an asshole don’t.

From: JoJo The Fool
guarantee I can get u white girl wasted in 30 minutes

Well, fuck it. There’s always tomorrow.

-

To: What’s Cooler Than Being Cool?
moi petite fromage I’m coming to bryce’s now. Sheri and Jeff wore me down

To: What’s Cooler Than Being Cool?
be excited I’m coming to play beer pong wit ya ass

To: What’s Cooler Than Being Cool?
hullo¿

-

The drive to Bryce’s house is quick and fast, your temporary lust for shitty beer getting the better of you. You park relatively close, and when you arrive past the gate, you’re greeted with shouts.

It’s ridiculously crowded. The lights are bright and glimmering off of the pools, filled to the brim with over-exposed bodies. You can practically smell the over-sexed teenagers.

“You came!” Sheri shouts, and you grin, taking her extended hand and letting yourself be pulled past the pool. You stop at one of many tables piled with beer.

“Well, you missed beer pong,” she exclaims over the music, grabbing a beer bottle and setting it in your hand. “But I know Marcus went in the house about fifteen minutes ago. Probably throwing up on Bryce’s rug right about now.” She titters, and you groan.

“Jesus, maybe I shouldn’t have come after all,” you snicker, taking a heavy sip. “Designated driver, once again.”

“What happened to getting white girl wasted?” A voice comes from behind you, and you roll your eyes as Sheri quirks her brows expectantly.

“Another night, Atkins.” You say. “Tonight, I’m stone-cold sober.”

He’s smiling at you when you turn around, and you feel something in your chest tighten by about twelve notches. He leans against your shoulder and grins, sparkling and bright, like the lights against the pool.

“I thought you came for me, now I’m just dissapointed.”

“Came for the beer, stayed for the boyfriend.“ You shrug, batting your lashes playfully. “Speaking of, I have to track him down before he blows all over Bryce’s house.” You take a mournful last sip from your bottle, giving it back to Sheri.

Jeff perks from next to you. “I’ll come with you,” he sets his own bottle down. “If he’s too faded then I’ll just drive you two lovebirds home myself.”

You raise your brows. “Sober enough for that, Atkins?”

“Three beers, max. I’m a sloppy drunk, can’t have people from school seeing that.” The smile he gives you is almost infuriatingly sweet, like he’s smiling just for you, and you want – god, for a second, you wish – that you could live in this moment for just awhile longer.

If you weren’t dating Marcus, the thought pops in your head before you realize what you’re thinking. If you weren’t dating Marcus, Jeff would

“Let’s go in the house,” you shout suddenly, almost shoving yourself out of Jeff’s reach. “To find Marcus. My boyfriend. My boyfriend, Marcus.”

“Sorry, who’s Marcus again?” Jeff looks amused, and you roll your eyes. You ignore the part of you that wants to scrub away every part of your skin that’s come into contact with him.

You say your goodbye to Sheri and march across the lawn, Jeff following behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him. It feels like it’s boiling you from the inside out, and you decide to ignore that part of yourself, too.

You’re two steps into Bryce’s ridiculously large house when he takes your hand.

“Here, pretty sure he went into one of the guest rooms.” He pulls you to the left, and you try your best to ignore how sweaty your hand is. You try even harder to ignore that Jeff’s the reason why it is.

You just try to ignore.

It’s nearly empty in the house, most of the crowd outside, save for the few people lounging on the sofas and hanging at the kitchen bar. Those that are still conscious stare as you and Jeff make your way down the hall, smirks and sneers twisting their faces. You’re not entirely sure you want to know why.

The first door you knock on goes unanswered, the room empty when you open it. The next two consist of – surprise – hormonal teenage sex, which you’re only too glad to close the door on. The third isn’t any different, and you and Jeff stutter out the same apologies as the previous ones.

“God! Sorry, I’ll just, uh, leave. I’ll close the door–”

Jeff grabs your arm. “Uh,” he stops you, eyes wide and staring into the room. His face pinches in disgust seconds later, and you stop yourself from shutting the door when you realize exactly who’s in the room.

“Dude, get the hell out!” Nina Burbank shouts from the bed, breathless and moaning, but you stand there, watching your boyfriend plow into Liberty High’s head cheerleader.

Get out! What the fu –” Marcus begins to shout. To his credit, he manages to stop himself when he looks at you.

You’re staring at them – at him, and you don’t know what to do. You’re stunned. You’re disgusted. You’re vividly imagining him being run over with your car.

You decide to settle with just staring. It’s less embarrassing than trying to stutter out your shock and anger. Luckily, Marcus manages to do that for you.

“Shit – shit! This isn’t – no, baby, I swear I didn’t mean –”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” You say suddenly, and he shuts his mouth with a tight, audible snap. You don’t stutter when you speak. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Jeff is ramrod straight from behind you, and you refuse to be embarrassed that someone else is here to witness this – this entire fucking mess.

You refuse to be embarrassed for something that isn’t your fault.

“Baby, baby – this isn’t anything, I swear to God. This is nothing –” Marcus practically throws himself off of the bed, and you throw your arms out when he makes a move towards you.

Don’t!” You shout, and he jerks back at the sound of your voice. You ignore the sharp burn of tears in your eyes, how hot they feel against your cheeks. “Seriously, get the fuck away from me. Get the fuck away from me, Marcus.”

“Baby,” he steps towards you again, his hands held out and his voice near pleading. “Let me explain. I can explain this.”

Explain this?” You scoff, and the laugh you give is manic and empty. “What the fuck? How do you explain having sex with someone else? Are you even listening to yourself?”

“This – just listen to me. This,” Marcus gestures around the room, and he’s shouting back now. “This happened because we have nothing. You’re my girlfriend, and I love you, and we have nothing.”

You nearly choke.

“We have nothing? What – what does that even mean? Are you … oh, my god. Are you seriously using us not having sex as an excuse? What are you going to say next, that I’m a – a what? A fucking prude?”

The answer you get is silence, and you feel your face burn.

“Jesus,” you bark out. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to listen to this,” Jeff says coldly and quietly from behind you, the first he’s spoken since opening the door. Marcus turns to him and spits venom.

“Stay the fuck out of this, Atkins!” He practically hisses, and you round on him. He doesn’t get to talk to Jeff. He doesn’t get to say anything.

“Don’t talk to him like that!” You shout just as Jeff says, “Calm down, man.”

“No, seriously, why the fuck are you even here, Jeff?” Marcus questions. “Just leave! Get the fuck out, this doesn’t involve you, man!” He screams and throws his hands towards the both of you, and you jut your head back in disgust.

“I’m not listening to this,” you turn and grab Jeff by the arm. “We’re fucking leaving.”

You still hear Marcus shouting even as you walk down the hall, practically dragging Jeff with each hurried step. The last things you can manage to make out are two simple words.

Fuck you.

-

“Are you okay?” Jeff asks as he pulls into your driveway, and you shake your head with a scoff.

“That can’t be a serious question right now, dude.”

Silence.

“I’ll go back there and kick his ass, if you want me to.” He suggests, and you snort. You could do that yourself, if you wanted to. But you know he’s being painfully genuine now, and you can’t bring yourself to say yes, please hurt him, bring one of your baseball bats if you have to.

You can’t bring yourself to say it, because you want to do it yourself.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll just wait until Monday to run him over at school.” You half-joke, but it’s empty. There’s silence again for a few minutes before you decide to speak. “I just – I know I didn’t do anything wrong, but … what did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jeff says quickly, and god, you can hear the pity in his voice. “There was nothing you did that led to this. Marcus is just a – he’s just a dick.” He finishes lamely, and you laugh.

“Yeah, well, he’s definitely that. It’s just … I mean, Nina Burbank?” You question, incredulous. “I’m worth more than fucking Nina Burbank.”

Jeff’s laugh is one of surprise.

You shake your head. “No, Jeff, I’m serious. He could’ve picked anyone and he chose Nina Burbank. God knows if I ever cheated on him, I would’ve chosen someone better than her.”

“Like who?” The questions is light and airy, a joke, but that doesn’t stop you from looking at him, eyes narrowed in contemplation.

“You mind being a rebound for the night?” You ask, your laugh mirthless and dry and god, you’re such an asshole. You shouldn’t even be joking about something like that.

You expect anything but the laugh he gives back to you, his eyes bright and his smile sweet.

“Well,” he begins, and the smile on his face turns even sweeter. “If it’s any consolation, you’d be my rebound, too. You’re …” He stops. His eyes soften, and you feel your heart stutter and stop in your chest. “You’re everything.”

“Stop.” You laugh, and you’re blushing, but Jeff shakes his head.

“No, seriously, you’re … god, I shouldn’t even be saying this right now.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re someone I’ve wanted to be with for … a while. And I mean, like, a while, and I –” He forces himself to stop, swallowing heavily. “I’m just gonna stop talking now.”

Silence, again. The heat you feel in the car is sudden and rising, and you’re sure your heartbeat is audible.

“Do you want to come inside?” You ask, breathless, and no. No, you shouldn’t be doing this. It’s wrong, it’s too fast, it’s dirty, but you don’t care.

When Jeff says yes, you get the feeling that he doesn’t care too much either.

-

Your parents aren’t home, you tell Jeff, and you close your front door with a heavy bang and grab him by the collar of his shirt. Your kisses are blind and fleeting, traveling from his lips to his neck, and he stumbles to hold you against the wall leading to your kitchen.

It’s only when his hands rub over your chest do you truly realize you’re about have sex.

It’s nothing to be nervous about, you tell yourself in the midst of Jeff’s rough hands quite literally tearing your clothes off. This isn’t the first time you’ve had sex, it won’t be the last. It doesn’t even have to feel good right now, you just have to feel.

None of that stops you from literally gaping in shock when you feel him against you, because oh.

Oh.

Oh, holy fuck.

You know Jeff’s big – you know. But god, he’s bigger than anything you’ve ever had in your goddamn life and – holy shit. You can’t breathe, your chest heaving as he grinds himself against you, wanton and hot and excited. He whines. The heavy pressure against you is enough to have you feeling the beginning of the end, every nerve on fire and waiting for that wave of ecstasy to extinguish it.

You only burn hotter when he whispers in your ear, “I want you. Oh, my god, I want you.”

Jesus Christ.

He’s smooth and hard compared to the rough wall behind you, his skin burning with every touch, coaxing himself between your legs. He get what he wants, which is exactly what you want, and he doesn’t waste time.

He pushes himself into you, slow and delicious because god, god, god, he’s thick and long and fucking perfect. It hurts you, realizing how perfect he is, and you love it.

He’s breathing just as hard as you are, teeth nipping at your shoulder, and he bites down – hard – once he’s finally balls deep.

You’re almost positive that he’s licking the bruised skin, sucking harshly as he pulls out and thrusts back in, his exhales shakey and fast. He’s got one hand pulling your hair and another hand grabbing your hip, meshing yourselves together.

The slap of skin against skin is all you can hear, all you can feel, and god, it feels unbelievable.

There’s something almost violent in the way he grabs your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. He’s going to leave bruises, you think faintly, and you smile lazily while he thrusts into you, each rough movement of his hips pushing you up and down the wall in small jolts.

You can leave bruises too.

-

It’s Monday and Jeff feels the scratches on his back sting as he takes his shirt off. They only vaguely hurt now, most of the cuts scabbing over and healing over the weekend. The bruises are different, though, he thinks with a smile. They’re like faded ink splotches against his skin, and he feels a twisted sort of satisfaction every time he thinks about it.

“Atkins, Jesus.” Bryce whistles once he catches a glance at Jeff’s back. “Who the hell attacked you?”

“It’s, uh, nobody.” He smiles faintly. He’s not about to say anything. Not now, when the locker room’s jam packed with every single male in Liberty High.

“Come on, Jeff,” he gets a nudge from Monty, and Zach grins from behind him. “Looks like one hell of a lay.”

“No, seriously. I’m not about to tell you guys –”

“Why not, Atkins?” Marcus’ voice overlaps his, cool and harsh, and Jeff feels his jaw lock.

He turns to look at Marcus and feels nothing but a heavy weight of disgust and anger in the pit of his belly. For a second – just a second, he swears – he fantasizes about landing a hard one right on his nose. The break would be clean and nobody would hold him back. He would probably get away with it.

He snaps out of his fantasy and sighs to himself. No. No, he wouldn’t.

So he settles for the next best thing.

“You really wanna know? Your girlfriend, Cooley.” He says, his voice loud and harsh in the locker room. It’s suddenly quiet. “Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize her handiwork.”

He slips his shirt on quickly and grabs his bag, shouldering Marcus roughly as he leaves. He ignores the sudden onslaught of jeers coming from the locker room as he walks out.

He finds you in the hallways soon enough, and he feels the smile take over his face before he can do anything to stop it. He doesn’t really want to stop it.

He grabs you by the waist and grins. “You know, I think I might have mentioned something about having an A in Heitzman’s class.”

You hum thoughtfully, pressing against him. It makes him feel warm inside. “That’s right. I think you also mentioned something about helping me study for his exam.”

“Did I?”

You scoff. “Don’t be cute, Atkins. Doesn’t really suit you.” You lean towards him, lips soft and just barely grazing his own.

Jeff grins. He can only just barely see Marcus from the end of the hall, and he decides, yeah, the bruises covering both of your bodies are well worth the look on his face.