feels~

i have no life

i have no friends i have no job i have no license i have no motivation i have no patience i have no self-esteem i have no feeling of joy i have the urge to be successful i have dreams i have hopes i have no strength to talk to people without a technology barrier i have no fucking time i have talent i have no persistence to create with my talents i have no life to build on my talents others have made it so far i am just waiting to take adult baby steps is this only me it can’t be i’ve seen several people do the same and yet im here wondering if they’ve taken them yet and i should not feel superior to them if and when i’ve taken them and if they should take them before me will they pity me like i’ve seen so many do to them are we really waiting to take those steps or am i too scared to jump off the diving board because when i jump off the diving board i have the fear i might drown and never come back up i’ve only jumped off a diving board once in my life and have no intention to do it again i have fear i have infinite fear and i have no idea if i’ll ever gain the courage to face the fear i am afraid of life and responsibility but i know i have to take those baby steps i need to take those steps toward my hopes and my dreams but does the negative always have to come before the positive where is the order where is the justice where is the equality where is the bliss that comes from those being aware of the world around them but does being knowledgeable really bring bliss it brings chaos just as pandora’s box just as eve and the forbidden fruit 

i have no life

Mitchie: Ugh, just, you know what. Fuck you.

lolthisblogispointless:

“Is this okay with you?” 

u ok

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If I just cut that cbox off

haHA

hAHhahHAHHAA

just removed it

just shut you up

BURRRRNNNNNN

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Mitchie and Jon

jON anD MItHCIE

JOThcire

HTOIOCITE

JTOCIEH

JTPCIE

Eros
a passionate physical and emotional love based on aesthetic enjoyment; stereotype of romantic love

Ludus
a love that is played as a game or sport; conquest; may have multiple partners at once

Storge
an affectionate love that slowly develops from friendship, based on similarity

Pragma 
love that is driven by the head, not the heart

Mania
obsessive love; experience great emotional highs and lows; very possessive and often jealous lovers

Agape
selfless altruistic love; spiritual;

“fuck off jon” 

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bitch pls

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“Jon and Mitchie are on bad terms okey, they don’t like each other”

“They can’t be cute”

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THE GOOD OF THE CHURRRRCCCCHHHH YAYYYYYYY :D

Jon loves Mitchie’s hands. Loves the way they touch him, how soft they are, where he places them when the two of them have intimate moments, but mostly, he loves to play with his fingers. Loves to fit their hands together and embrace the warm feeling low in his stomach that he gets when their fingers slot together perfectly. 

So when the both of them lay on Jon’s bed, vanilla candle wax pooled inside their glass containers, the aroma still filling the room, Jon grabbed Mitchie’s hand per usual. He ran his finger down Mitchie’s hand, to his wrist. He circled his hand around Mitchie’s wrist gently and pulled his arm and hand up to his own face, inhaling Mitchie’s own personal vanilla. Jonathan could drown in vanilla and die happily. He felt his smile grow larger, kissing the heel of Mitchie’s hand and trailing his lips down lower and lower. He let himself plant more firm kisses at the sound of Mitchie’s breath hitching and goosebumps forming from the shivers that Mitchie got. Jon kissed down to Mitchie’s forearm, eyes prickling at the feeling of scar tissue against his lips and he froze.

He’s seen them before; Mitchie knows he’s seen them. He just guessed they silently agreed to not mention it. “Tell me about them.” Jonathan whispered against the skin, breaking the comfortable silence of the room. He looked up to his boyfriend’s face, searching his eyes. It was bound to happen eventually. Mitchie sighed quietly, diving into his story, Jonathan’s heart breaking a thousand times over. His mouth was still pressed against Mitchie’s arm as he continued his story, shrugging it off at the end. “It was dumb.” He concluded, looking back at Jonathan with a half-smile. Jon let go of Mitchie’s arm, leaning up to hover over Mitchie’s body. “It’s not dumb.” He breathed out, pressing his lips to Mitchie’s cheek, nuzzling against it.

“You’re so beautiful.” Jonathan said, voice cracking as if he were about to cry. His fingers dove into Mitchie’s soft blonde hair, massaging gently on the side of his head, smiling as Mitchie leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and practically purring. “I love you.” He added, speaking softly against Mitchie’s neck as he laid on top of Mitchie. “You are so special to me.” Jonathan kissed at Mitchie’s neck, ready to sob into the crook of his neck. “I love you so much,” He fisted his hand into Mitchie’s sleeping shirt. “Jon, oh my God.” Mitchie laughed quietly. “Don’t cry…” He said with a tut, hand immediately rubbing at his back. “… I love you too.” He whispered back, breaking into a grin with his teeth pulling at his bottom lip.

“I can’t believe you dragged me out to see The Vow.” Jonathan groaned, immediately snatching Mitchie’s hand as he closed the passenger side door of his car. The both of them agreed to go out and see a movie in celebration of the weekend, but when no good action movies were out, Jonathan was forced to sit through 2 hours of sappy romantic shit. At least he got to wrap his arm around Mitchie whenever he cried at the extra-sappy parts. 
“Oh, come onnn. It was a good movie!” Mitchie exclaimed, using his other hand to smack Jonathan’s chest lightly, giggling as he did so.
“Oh, ouch.” Jonathan feigned pain as he pulled both of them to the side of his front porch and sat on the hand railing, coaxing Mitchie to fit in between his legs as his hands resting low on his glorious hips. He squeezed them gently as he pulled them a big closer.
“Hi.” He grinned, satisfied as Mitchie wrapped his arms around Jonathan’s neck pulling him in for a kiss which Jonathan replied with a contented hum against Mitchie’s lips, drinking in the vanilla scent. 
Mitchie was the first to pull away to take a breath, burying his head into Jonathan’s neck. Jon’s hand slipped into the back pockets of Mitchie’s jeans, struggling a bit with the tight fabric. 
“How do you still taste like vanilla when you ate half of the fucking popcorn tub?” Jonathan snickered into Mitchie’s shoulder, moving his lips to kiss at his collarbone and neck, smiling against the skin as Mitchie rolled his head back, giving Jon easier access. Jonathan placed open mouth kisses underneath his neckline, sucking particularly hard at a spot where Mitchie’s hands dug into the back of his shirt, clutching at his shoulder blades at the touch. Mitchie let out a whimper as Jon ran his teeth over the patch of skin, turning Mitchie’s whimpers into moans. Jonathan brushed his lips softly back over to Mitchie’s.
“Um, Jon..” Mitchie trailed on between kisses, “do you think we could,” he paused to groan softly into Jonathan’s mouth, “move inside?” He finished with a deep breath, forcing himself to step away. Jonathan pushed himself off the railing and wrapped his arms around Mitchie’s waist, smiling against his neck as they stumbled over to the front door. Jonathan opened the door, giggling against Mitchie’s mouth, almost tripping over the step into the house. He attached his lips back to Mitchie’s and closed the door again, stumbling them over to the couch.
“U-Uncle Jon!” Mitchie screeched. Wait. That wasn’t Mitchie. Mitchie didn’t call him Uncle. Jonathan pulled off of Mitchie with a loud smack. Mitchie squealed and ran to hide behind Jonathan.
“CHARLIE!” Jonathan exploded at the boy. This was the third fucking time that he should have been in bed when he was out with someone.  
“I’m s-sorry! Jesus Christ!” Charlie screamed, snatching up his book work and stamping over to his room. 
Jonathan groaned loudly as Charlie’s bedroom door slammed closed and dropped himself onto the couch, making grabby-hands at Mitchie. Mitchie pulled his bottom lip into mouth and made his way over to Jonathan before crawling into his lap, legs on either side of him. 
“We’ll just have to be really quiet,” Mitchie smirked down at the professor, whispering softly and planting soft kisses down his cheek.
“I can deal with that.” Jonathan replied, hands moving underneath the back of Mitchie’s shirt.
He could be quiet as long as they never leave that position.  

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