Michael Clifford - Blog Posts
kidd is so red haired michael clifford coded (and vice versa) and i stand by this hill
find the difference between michael's shirt and the picture of malum. you can't
(thanks @lukemichaelcalumashton for providing the EXACT malum pic to illustrate my point)
i think the day michael decides he's comfortable enough to show some skin is when we're all doomed
buzzfeed needs to do a puppy interview with 5sos ASAP. that's all we want
this one of the most comforting pictures of michael that i have ever seen
Red hair Michael Clifford red hair Michael Clifford red hair Michael Clifford
I AM VERY EXCITED TO AMOUNTS I WILL BE GOING TO SEE 5 SECONDS OF SUMMER NEXT YEAR 2022 HERE I COME
ashton irwin sounds like if a texas hillbilly farmer moved to england and tried to fit in
This was requested by @beatdrumsnotpeople (tysm x)
Amnesia (Next Door Edit with Rain)
Enjoy! x
Download
No more
A Whoever-you-want-it-to-be imagine
Trigger warnings: Angst, domestic violence, blood.
Read at your own risk!
If you ever come into contact with such violence against you or anybody you know, please, contact the authorities or call the domestic violence hotlines. Nobody should ever feel oppressed and violated.
~~~
Tired. You were simply tired of all the meaningless fighting. It wasn’t like you two didn’t have anything to fight for, having been together for so long had to mean something, didn't it? It didn't seem to be enough anymore though, to keep you two together. The once intertwined hands now pointed at each other in rage more often than they met in peace, the only laughter that was shared was out of anger and pity. The kisses once shared turned into harsh words, while love slowly turned into hatred. You don’t even remember when and how it all went wrong anymore. Days you once thought to be the worst of your life now only serving as a proof to the wind before a storm. A storm you were never ready for.
It had come to a point when neither of you even knew whether the other comes home, the bed once shared in peace and love had become only one of the evidences of a broken relationship, a lost war that had only left heaps of unhealed wounds. Some days it seemed to have stopped. The fighting, the lies and the hurt. His hands once again found yours, his lips - your body, leaving love bites next to the bruises he had left before. He had never intended to hurt you, no. He says to even not remember doing so, yet you do. Each mark, each wound, each word that often hurt more than what he left on your flesh for the world to see.
Each mark on his body. Ones you had never left there. Others have. And no matter how much it hurt you, there was nothing you could do about it. The smell of their perfume made you sick, the stains of their lipstick on his shirts made your stomach twist, but your hands never did anything more than clean and fold them for him to wear again, only to return with the same stains, just a different perfume. Was it really none of your business anymore?
More often than not you found yourself hiding. You kept trying to tell yourself that you are hiding from him, when in reality it was you you were hiding from, but couldn’t. Your heart was broken. To an extent where it was way past the point of repair, yet you managed to heal it every time you thought the pain had passed. And you were once again in love. He said to feel the same. Until the next time. And the next time proved to be worse than the ones before. It almost felt gradual. Like levels of a twisted game you never got tired of playing, but when you finally did, it presented you an offer you knew you couldn’t pass. It lured you in. Badly. Yet were you in the wrong for falling for the devil? They say that even the devil was an angel once locked out of the heaven. Maybe it was him the people had warned you and others about.
Summers had always been your favourite. Not because of the blooming nature, the bright colours or the warmth. It was because you could finally put on the dresses you had insisted on buying during the wintertime. It was until this summer that you realised your hatred for them. The marks on your body made you feel disgusted and unloveable. 'No wonder he didn’t love me anymore,' you had thought. 'Who would love somebody this broken on the inside and outside?’ But he did.
You came home to a smell of freshly picked flowers. A smell you had not felt in a long time. And there he was. A living devil in disguise of an angel. He smiled at you, making you wince. What had he done this time? Was it another girl he was trying to apologise for? No, it couldn’t be. He had stopped apologising for it a long time ago. Was it another broken mirror or a wall he had broken in the midst of having a spark of anger? However, his knuckles showed no evidence of it. His hand reached behind his back, you were no fool, you noticed that. You took a step back just as he did toward you. He sighed, yet didn't say a word. Then he spoke up.
“I love you,” he had said after what had felt like years of silence, “I love you and I want you to be mine forever. Marry me and I promise - no more,” he had said.
“Yes,” was your answer, even though your mind and soul was screaming no. He made a promise. You couldn’t do that to him. No, not you. You couldn’t hurt him. Not like he hurt you. Wounds heal, don’t they?
It had been a year since that day. He had come home to you, kissed you on your forehead and given you a bouquet of fleshly picked flowers.
“For you,” he had said. You smiled.
He took you by the hand and lead you to the garden. It was a peaceful night. The stars shone bright. A glass was put in your hand as one was in his. They clinked against each other.
“Cheers,” he toasted and smiled.
So much had changed within a year. It almost felt too good to be true. Almost. One glass turned into two. Two toasts in three, and four clinks in the breaking of the thin glass. Wine coated your lap. You had tried to laugh it off, but the alcohol in his system had other plans.
You had been here before, yet you were not the one to learn from your mistakes. Your body collided with the wall that was recently repaired in the hopes of never being broken again. The blood from your nose soon found your white dress. It was summer after all, and the old wounds had healed. But he wanted more. You looked back at him when he shouted. The veins on his forehead and the black eyes made him look insane. Yet he hadn’t expected your act of bravery. He had not expected to see you looking back at him as he raised his hand.
“Look away,” he demanded. You didn’t. You stood there and looked him dead in the eyes. Understanding. Hurting, but no more hiding.
His hand was still in the air, his breath got caught up in his lungs. Unmoving.
“No more,” she had whispered as she made her way to him. Caressing his cheek in such a manner that made silent tear run down his face. He fell on his knees. Begging.
“No more,” she repeated, as she took off her ring and made her way towards the door. And she didn't look back.
Still remember this 😂👌🏻
Omg TRUE I think Michael Clifford is HOT,CUTE like Calum said "I want to have sex with Michael Clifford" (so true) 😍😅😆
Seeing 5sos TODAYYY!! August 21st NYYY
“ take my heart for the weekend “
@5sos
hii could u pls make layouts of luke hemmings or michael clifford in self titled/sgfg era <33
saving pics ☆ 13/?? this picture isn’t mine! (:
valentine // 5 seconds of summer
