messy cupboard

anonymous asked:


Dan and Phil were a couple to bicker about small things constantly but rarely have real fights, but they weren’t perfect. They did have fights. But they were never too bad.

They argued about domestic stuff often. Phil being his messy self, leaving cupboard doors open, leaving dirty socks around the house, drove Dan crazy. Dan being his usual nagging self had Phil losing his temper every now and then, but normally Phil gave in, unless he was really adamant he wasn’t wrong. But they always came to a compromise.

They argued about real stuff occasionally. Every couple does. Things get stressful. These arguments rarely really put each other at fault, just act as a way to vent about their current stressful situation. 

These fights often end in tears and cuddles or, sometimes a break from each other to cool down, but as they never really blame each other for anything, it’s easy to make up. 

Dan will burst into Phil’s room, angry about something or the other. Usually how much they’d planned to do and how little time Dan would have to himself, sometimes about fans, sometimes video ideas going wrong, but whatever it was he was upset about he’d take it out on Phil.

Sometimes, Phil was smart enough to talk it out calmly, but sometimes he snapped as well, yelling right back, which ultimately led to no good but being able to vent a while.

Most of the time the yelling fizzled out, and Dan would have tearstains on his cheeks and Phil would be out of breath, and they’d meet each other’s eyes and melt, because the last thing either of them want is to hurt each other.

So finally, one of them would open their arms and the other would fall into them and they’d hold each other like it was their first time making up. They’d stay like that for a long time, and they’d know that these fights were just life kicking them down, but they’d always be able to get back up again with each other’s help.

#29 Back Seat Revenge (Harry Styles)


This is a true story…haha. 

“Where is Analia?” I heard Harry ask my mother as she mumbled something. He opened my door and gave me a look. What I saw was pouty lips and red cheeks, and I knew something was wrong. Locking the door behind him, he instantly climbed the bed and got inside the covers, and between my arms. He cuddled his face in my neck, and I heard him sigh. “It’s 1 ‘o’ clock, why are you still in bed?” He asked.

“I am having a lazy day!” I exclaimed, kissing his forehead. “Did something happen? Did you lose something?” He shook his head, “Fought with someone, did you?” I asked, pulling his hair a bit to make him look at me.

“You can’t have a lazy day, three days in a row!” He raised his eyebrow, keeping his head on the pillow. I shifted the weight on my stomach, trying to cuddle my head in the pillow.

“I am a really bad ass so, I can! Stop changing the topic, what happened?” I laughed.

“Fought with my father, what else,” He said, shifting his weight to his back. “He doesn’t know what the word listening means like he doesn’t have a clue! I come back home for a just a few months and, he can’t make the effort of not arguing or fighting with me!”

“Don’t be upset, it happens…” I said, kissing his cheek.

“I think, we should get a tattoo right here,” He said placing his finger on the crook of my neck.

“I think you have enough tattoos to make up for both of us!” I giggled, sitting up and tying my hair. “Your entire arm is almost covered now.”

“I know, you find it sexy,” He smirked.

“Yes, very sexy!” I nodded and climbed out of bed.

“Taken a bath?” He asked as I opened my cupboard to take out a different pair of clothes.

“You know Mum, woke me up at 8 am, and told me to take a bath and sleep again. I don’t understand her logic!” I danced out of my pants, never being able to balance on one foot. “Can you see my stretch marks? I tried this new coffee technique, I can never tell,” I said, walking up to him.

He held my waist in his arms and pulled me closer, “Why do these happen again?” He asked.

“My skin stretched because of all my weight. I read they never go away,” I pouted.

“No, it doesn’t make any difference. It still looks beautiful,” He inspected, frowning, and rubbed over my stomach with his thumb, and then, pressed a quick kiss on it.

I pulled a dress over my head and sat beside him. “What are you thinking about?”


He was a complete drama queen. He had just returned from the University after finishing his first year, and all he did during the break was fight with his father. It was quite funny because both of them were incredibly alike and strong headed.

“Did the car come, today?” His father had ordered a new car which was supposed to get delivered today. “He was really excited about it, wasn’t he?”

He suddenly got up, with mischief in his eyes, “that’s a brilliant idea, baby!” He kissed my lips and got out of bed. “Wear your shoes!”

“I didn’t say anything!” I said, running behind him. “Mum, I’m leaving with Harry!” I yelled and ran out of the door. We had been best friends ever since we were kids and he was a year older than me. One year before he left for college, we confessed our feelings for each other in a tremendous fight and, we have been strong since, then. It was nice knowing everything about someone, and then, falling for them. It was quite strange, too cause we knew the worst of each other, too.

“I refuse to walk this fast!” I stopped in the middle of the road. He pulled me along with him to his house, which was down the block and I was still in my lazy zone.

“But, we’ll be late, and he hasn’t seen the car, yet!” He said, pulling me.

“Wait a minute…what is going on in your head!” I laughed. “Harry, stop!”

“Oh baby,” He said, quickly picking me and then, running. He stopped in front of the house and, he put me down, his eyes directly going down to my legs. I pulled my dress down and hit him.

“I hate being manhandled!” I yelled.

“Shh…” He covered my face and held me against him. “Okay, he isn’t back from work. We have time…” He kissed my lips. “Sorry, I have a brilliant idea!” He apologised.

I sighed and shook my head, “what is this brilliant idea?” He got the car keys out and, opened the back door and, tilted his head towards the car.

“What? This is your idea? What is wrong with you?” I couldn’t believe him. His mind worked in weird ways, and I couldn’t decide if I should laugh or disapprove.

“In return of your art room fantasy,” He winked. I blushed in the memory of having sex in his school art room because I loved that place.

“Oh my, that’s bullying!” I held my chest.

“Get in baby,” He said, kissing below my ears.

“We are going to be in so much trouble!” I shook my head and pulled him inside the car. He locked the windows and bent the car seat. “Aren’t we going to remove the covers?”

“Oh you little devil,” He kissed my lips and then, quickly tore the plastic off the seats. I looked around to see anybody nearby but, everyone was inside the house. He placed small kissed down my neck, leaving little hickeys on the way. I moaned, in response as his hands discovered my body, pulling me closer to him in this enclosed space. He pulled my dress off my body, and I sat in his lap, in my underwear and bra, as his tongue explored my mouth, fighting with my tongue in response, in his father’s new car.

“Fuck, you’re so wet! Always dripping for me, aren’t you baby,” He moaned, as our hands went down on each other. I took his shirt off and, he helped his pants off as I worked on making my own marks on his skin. He growled in response when I bit his shoulder, a place which always made him grow crazy. His hands cupped my breasts as he gave them a little squeeze, after pulling off my bra, “I love these, they are so big and perfect for me,” He moaned as he brought his lips to my nipples, slowing revolving his tongue around them and then, sucking him and I moaned his name in appreciation.

His fingers are on my clit, as I worked my hand on his dick, our lips meeting each other’s frantically, knowing we don’t have a lot of time. “Look at you, always so ready for my cock! My innocent little baby is not the same anymore, is she?” He moans, against my lips and I shook my head biting them. “I am going to fuck you so hard baby, I’ll completely devour you,” He said, laying me down on the seat bench, and rubbing his cock over my clit. I kept my eyes between us, waiting for him to push in. I loved seeing us become one, it was so beautiful and mind blowing to me, and he knew it and, always made a show out of it.

“Ready to be fucked sore, honey?” He smirked, as he pushed himself in. I wrapped myself around his body, as he held me in arms. I was trying to get accustomed to his size every time we had sex and, it was a little better since we just went through a round yesterday. His name was constantly on my lips as he slowly increased his pace, the air in the car thickening with our fast breaths. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight…” He bit my shoulder as he started slamming into me and I tried to meet his pace with all the passion he was putting in.

“It’s so good, Harry. So fucking good, please go faster,” I repeated, feverishly as the car shook with his thrusts.

“I love your pussy, baby. I love how I fill you up perfectly, you’re made for me, you know…” He cupped my face in his palm, and my eyes met him as he kept his forehead against mine, slamming into me harder than before. “Tell me you’re made for me, go on, tell me!”

“I am –“I tried controlling my scream, “For you, Harry, made for you…” Making a sentence to my best and not trying to lose my mind, I pulled his lips to mine. “I am going to…I’m going to come.”

“Yeah? Yeah, baby? Come for me, come on, I am going to come too,” It was times like these when I thought myself to be so fortunate in his arms as he got us off to our peak. I came all over his cock as he continued thrusting, pushing up all the way and then, let go inside me.

“We’re all sticky over the car seat, now…” I giggled and, he looked up to my face and kissed me.

“I love you,” he said, against my lips.

“You should, I just had sex in the car with you as revenge for your father,” I kissed him back. We lay together for a while, with me in his lap resting my head on his chest, still naked. “I like that you don’t have a lot of chest hair, I don’t like it.”

“That’s a good thing, I don’t think I can grow them now! You keep pulling, hahaha” He laughed as I tickled him. “Okay, okay, we should get out before my father walks in.”

“Will you tell him?” I asked, wearing my underwear. I had to go and clean myself or, his come would start leaking through my already wet panties.

“Let him figure out on his own,” He smirked. I knew he felt powerful and completely bad ass, and I loved him feeling like that.

“Do we look fixed?” He looked at me, “who am I kidding, get out…” I laughed.

He got out of the car and then, gave me his hand pulling me out. As soon as I kept my feet outside, I saw a figure standing behind Harry. I hid behind him, as he turned around smirking, “Hello Dad, Analia and I are going in,” He smiled and asked his father to catch the keys. His father’s look was completely bewildered, and I didn’t turn around to see it, again.

We ran to his room with him giggling and laughing all the way. We got into the shower quickly, and I tried to end it quickly without Harry getting too touchy. “I can’t find my T-shirt,” I asked, opening his cupboard.

“The number one? I think it went for washing, wear one of mine if you can’t find it,” He said.

“You have to stop mixing mine with yours, messy messy cupboard!” I laughed wearing one of his.

“It’s actually in a better state than yours!” He showed me his tongue as I threw his clothes at him. “Dad must be livid!”He giggled as he opened the door a little to hear the conversation going on outside.

“The least he could have done is let the covers stay! Now, every time I use that car, I will be reminded of my son having sex in it!” We heard him say to his mother. “And Analia, she is such a good girl! Harry is spoiling and ruining her!” Harry laughed and shut the door.

“I am ruining you, did you hear that?” He said, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“We are already a lost case…” I chuckled, and kissed him.

Did you like it? Comments?



That’s How You Know

“He’ll find some way to show you, with the little things he’ll do; That’s how you know, that’s how you know - he’s your love” - Disney’s Enchanted

Because, after all, love is in the littlest of things.

Read the previous: I  II

When rediscovering old trinkets 

- The night is calm and still. And as you lay on the couch, you savour the serenity and stillness of the apartment. The tv is switched on, but the volume is muted, with drama reruns playing on the screen. You glance at the screen lazily from the corner of your eye, uninterested. 

- It’s been a long day, and you’re content just lying where you are, watching the city lights glow and flicker from the large living room windows. The blanket of night makes the mere lights from the buildings around you shine brighter, and appear a little more magical than they actually are. You watch as some of the lights in the apartment building across the street shut off, the windows they once illuminated disappearing into the deep of the night. 

- It’s getting late, but he isn’t home from work yet. He had texted you in the morning to tell you not to wait up for him - even though he knows you probably wouldn’t listen. And evidently you aren’t, as you continue staring out the windows, watching the buildings recede into the darkness as more lights flicker off.

- You decide that you should do something useful whilst you wait up for him, so you haul yourself up from the couch to the organise the messy cupboard beneath the tv. Your aching, weary body protests, but you ignore it as you settle yourself on the floor in front of the cupboard.

- The instant you open the cupboard, things begin to topple out of it into your lap. You wonder what both of you have been storing and amassing in it, considering that it’s hardly ever opened.

- Time passes before you finally finish organising all the random boxes. You stick your arm deep into the bottom shelf to make some space for the last box when your hand stills on something hard and cool. The touch of it feels familiar, although you can’t pinpoint in your head exactly what it is.

- And so in your curiosity, you pull it out gingerly, afraid to disturb all the other contents that you’ve already organised. A wave of nostalgia hits you as the light illuminates the surface of the box. It’s a tin box, the type that cookies from the store used to come in. The intricate designs on the cover have already partially peeled off, and the rest of the box is slightly dented and rusty. 

- Memories return in an immense rush when you pry the box open. Pieces of paper, in all different colours, sizes, shapes and stages of yellowing spill out all at once, and you can’t help but laugh in disbelief. It’s been such a long time since you’ve seen these, and you can’t believe you’ve forgotten about the collection of post-its from him that you had kept since middle school.

- The whole post-it thing had begun in middle school, you recall. Both of you had been good friends since the beginning of year 1, and it was a coincidence when he picked your name from the basket as his Secret Santa. In true secret santa fashion, he had left an anonymous post-it on your locker everyday, although it didn’t take long for you to recognise his characteristic scribble.

- Your smile pulls wider as you recall how upset he was when you knew it was him not even two weeks into game. You enjoyed receiving the quirky little drawings and writings on the post-it notes, so he had insisted on doing it even after you knew it was him. And the habit just stuck, even after the game ended. 

- Everyday, for the rest of middle school and even into high school and college, even if you didn’t see him around much because of the difference in your schedules, you knew that your best friend was thinking of you when you saw the post-it stuck to the door of your locker. Sometimes, it was a little note to say hi, but most of the time it was little doodles that soon became code words.

- Your fingers flip through the post-it in your hands, losing count of the number of them that had poorly drawn pictures of cookies or cutlery on them. Those were the post-its that told you he was coming over after school, or for dinner because he loved your mum’s cooking.

- Your hands still on a particular note - a little cartoon face covering his eyes out of embarrassment. You burst out laughing, unable to contain your amusement, your voice bouncing off the walls and reverberating around the empty apartment.

- He had written the note to you a week after the closest thing to a high school scandal of his had occurred. In junior year, as a result of his rush between classes, he had accidentally pasted his post-it on your neighbour’s locker. It didn’t help that it happened when it was nearing the Winter Formal, and the poor girl had thought she had a secret admirer. The incident blew off eventually, but he never dared to paste his post-its on the door of your locker again. So you had to give him your locker combination so that he could place it inside instead. And with that also came many “Lunch Swap” notes where he would help himself to your lunch before you could get to it. 

- A wistful smile spreads across your lips, and your heart swells with warmth as you flip further through the stack of papers. This is where all our memories together are, you realise. Even though both of you didn’t like taking pictures, the years of memories you guys made together were preserved in these humble post-it notes in your hands - in the little, everyday expressions of love. 

- The unassuming post-it notes had chronicled so many things. It had chronicled the progression of your relationship from friends into lovers; It had chronicled all your little victories and successes through his congratulatory notes; It had chronicled the fights and misunderstandings you guys had weathered together through his apologies; It had chronicled his growth from a young boy, into a strong, caring, responsible young man. But most importantly, it chronicled his presence through the ups and downs in your life. 

- You snap out of your reverie when you hear the passcode to your apartment being keyed in at the door. As you look up, you catch sight of the post-it pads at the kitchen counter, and the post-its on the fridge. You remember the post-it still stuck on the bathroom mirror since this morning and you realise, somethings just never change.

 - As he ambles in to the living room, you give him a smile, taking in his tired expression, and his slow steps. Immediately, he notices the coloured post-its strewn around you on the floor, and his eyes crinkle as he lets out a mellow laugh, realising what they are.

- I can’t believe you’ve kept them all these years, he says, amused. You place them back in the tin box and take it with you as you walk towards him, deciding that it’s too precious to be forgotten in the cupboard under the tv.

- You engulf him in a tight hug before looking up into his warm, mellow eyes. I wonder why you didn’t propose to me via a post-it instead, you say with a glimmer of mischief in your eyes.

- Would you have said yes? He asks cheekily. I could’ve saved all that trouble if you had just told me you wanted a post-it proposal, he teases, and you hit him playfully in the stomach.

- And so, that’s how you knew - walking to bed with his arm draped lazily over your shoulder, a tin box full of humble memories in your hand, that he loved you and that you loved him very much indeed.

Preferences #46 Moment with your children


Walking downstairs, you can hear your small baby crying and your husband, Calum trying to calm her. She has just woken and to try and settle her you have gone to get some milk. Walking in the kitchen, you switch on lights, the voice of your baby becoming quieter.

Calum was upstairs, the baby in his arms. Her pink baby grow still baggie in some areas, her fingers and toes so small. Her eyes were wide open, letting you see the beautiful colours. He stroked the top of her head, the soft skin warming Calums fingers. 

You quietly walked back up, not hearing the baby crying makes you think she is asleep. The door was partly open, so you squeezed in to see Calum standing there, his arms rocking slightly. Turning your head you see the little girls eyes shut.

‘Shh…’ Calum cooed every once a while. You smiled, letting them have their moment. As Calum was touring all the time he wasn’t around much, so having a moment like this was important. Turning round you walked away, letting the baby sleep.


Your boy was ten, he hasn’t been very interested music like his father. Luke wasn’t disappointed in him, he just wanted to teach him like a proper dad. Your son was more of the sporty type, he loved football and just recently he has joined a team. It was his first match today and Luke made sure he was not busy so he could go and watch it.

They had left about an hour and half ago, and they were due back in twenty minutes. You started cleaning the house, clearing out all the messy cupboards. You had fallen upon a picture album, it was Luke when he was 17. You starting going through it, smiling at the memories the pages bought with it.

Suddenly the doors flew open, cheering was heard from the other end of the house. Looking up, you saw Luke run past you, your little boy on his shoulders. Standing up, you put the pictures away, moving towards the kitchen where the loud cheering was still going on.

‘We won!’ Your son shouted, ‘We won!’ He repeated, Luke had the biggest and brightest smile on his face. The proudness shining off him.

‘Well done!’ You say, moving closer, not being able to reach as he was on Luke’s shoulders, you smiled at him.


‘I will look after him, I promise.’ Ashton said, comforting you. This was your first day back after maternity leave. You were scared, you were with your son since he was made, and now you are leaving him.

Ashton had the day off, so he was looking after him. ‘Thank you.’ You smiled kissing him.

‘He is my son, I will look after him!’  You nodded,

‘I know, but for everything thank you.’ He smiled, understanding what you were meaning. You were twenty, Ashton was the same age. You two were both only nineteen when you discovered you were pregnant.  You thought Ashton would leave you, his career would be more important and you would just be left on the side-line. But that never happened, every appointment, every scan he was there. During the birth he was there holding your hand. Helping you breath, and letting you shout and scream at him, because he knew what pain you were going through.

Ashton had bought a tiny little plastic drum that the baby could beat. You knew that he would be trying to get him to that all day, playing round with his own boy all on his own.

Your day was better than expected and everyone welcomed you back with open arms, you were let out a bit earlier as you wanted to see you two boys again.

You opened the door quietly, trying to hear for any noise. Looking around you saw no one, walking upstairs you walk into your room. Finding Ashton and you 10 month old baby sitting up„ your little boy banging on his drum.

‘Yay!’ Ashton cheered who still had no seen you come in. ‘You’re going to do amazing..’ He whispered, his voice more serious.


You sighed, your teenage daughter walking out again. Ever since you split with now ex-husband Michael, your girl had been more moody than ever. You cannot talk to her, you cannot connect with her. Whenever you to talk it always ends in an argument.

It was another hour until she walked back in, the exact same sour look on her face like when she left. ‘You’ve got to pack for you dads, he will be here in a minute.’ She sighed out of annoyance. The stomping and slamming of doors routine was back on.

The doorbell rang, you shouted up for someone to answer t but there was no response. You really didn’t want to meet and talk to your ex, but now you had to.

Opening the door you put on a fake smile, letting Michael come in. ‘How is she?’ He asked, understanding her different moods. You shook your head, far too tired to explain.

Your daughter came running down, her bag packed„ she didn’t even give you a look let alone say goodbye before she was out the door. Michael sighed, grabbing her arm lightly to top her.

‘I’ll see you then..’ You said, closing the door even though you didn’t shut it properly. You heard Michael speaking, his voice stern.

‘Look, you know I love you but you can’t be like this. You can’t just be a bitch and get away with it. I know you are going through a difficult time, but so is your mum. She has deal with everything on her own and now she has to deal with your horrible moods which is unfair. And I know I am sounding harsh, but you have to got to understand where I am coming from..’ The rest of it was muffled as you thought they were walking away. When looking out the window you saw that he was kneeling down, her crying into his shoulder. 

He looked towards the window you were staring out of, you mouthed ‘thank you’ your eyes glossy. He smiled and nodded, not wanting to ruin this moment with his daughter. 

-Request something

10 day study challenge day one: clean up and photograph your study space to share with us

My study space is generally my desk in my room, but sometimes I’ll have to make do with whatever available surface I can find! Not pictured here is the stack of textbooks/A4 notebooks/sheets of paper that are hidden under my desk (in the same way Monica on Friends has her messy cupboard! I have my messy under-desk-area). The text books raising my iMac are ones I used heavily throughout my first degree, although I haven’t actually read them in nearly three years now (yikes I’m getting old!) and they’re really not related to the subjects I’m studying now, I still find it comforting to have them nearby.

This is a ten day challenge, but I’m not going to be doing this on consecutive days. But I’d like to think I’ll complete it! 😁