glvch

Ok this one is a bit angsty for me but It is a hug to everyone who sees and tries to understand and protect their mental health.

Ian glanced out the window, watching the sky darken as thunder gathered on the horizon. “Mania builds the same way,” he said, very carefully.

Mickey walked toward Ian, sensing the shift. “It starts as a rumble you think you can ignore, then it grows, pressure stacking until your world explodes.

Lightning split the sky, and Ian shrank, not from fear, but recognition. “People think it’s energy,” he mused . “But it’s pressure. It’s drowning upward.” A large boom followed, loud and merciless. Ian exhaled. “Hard to outrun.”

Y'all. This is the last drabble for the "Untitled" series. :)

I was going to do it last week, but decided to stop myself and see if I was still at the finish line this week and guess what, we are.

It's been a pleasure writing this, you can check out the entire series HERE.

Thanks @galladrabbles as per usual and @shippergirl121fic for the great prompt.

.-.-.-.-

It’s raining cats and dogs, it’s a goddam thunderstorm, but Ian couldn’t be happier. It’s his first night in his own apartment. He is living alone and he feels safe, and cared for and loved for the first time in years. 

He thinks back on all the things that happened in the past year and how he really thought at some point that he wasn’t going to make it, that he was alone, abandoned by Mickey and his siblings. Under Jordan’s fucking thumb with no way out. 

Now he gets to start again, with the love of his life and the support of his family. 

A new Gallavich fanfic inspired by the 1970s.

Ian lives in a city bursting with life, yet he feels his body slipping into the shadows of the apartment he shares with nameless strangers. If this keeps up, he might lose himself completely—trapped in cigarette smoke, wrestling with a mind that offers no answers. No one seems to see him. Until now. Mickey, a wild boy who uses music to claw at his wounds, though it never makes them vanish. He’s exhausted, bruises blooming as bright as the colors he sprays across the streets, lying on his bed. Alone in this fucking world—and he doesn’t care.

The 1970s roar like a manifesto: youth in upheaval, freedom unchained, rage unleashed, everything they were never ready for.

Hello, Gallavich newbies!

This is your fairy god cross here with a fic writing guide that I made just for you!

This guide is 6,700 words of wisdom on writing both fanfic and original works intended for everyone (18+ because it contains a girthy section on writing smut). Whether you're a total beginner or have dabbled in writing in the past and just want some extra tips and tricks, this guide is for you.

If you have no idea who I am and are wondering why you should listen to me, cool! Sounds like you're a critical thinker. I'm Cross. I write stuff. And draw stuff. I've only been in the Gallavich fandom for a few years, but everyone here is super chill and welcoming, and most people seem to like when I put words online. My actual credentials are listed in the guide itself.

If you want to read some of my past work, here is the link to my Ao3.

If you just wanna get to the good stuff, click below!

[ Read the guide here! ]