ROLL WITH IT. [2.0] [g.way x reader]

ROLL WITH IT. [2.0] [g.way x reader]

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WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Thu, Jan 1, 202610h 11m
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Fiction
Romance
time travel/au fic warning - covers serious topics of abuse, suicide and self harm. rewrite of a fic i wrote in 2022. much more serious and darker read, if you are prepared for that. - Staring down at the primitive Nokia 1200 in your shaking hand, fingers hovering over the chunky, dark buttons, your stomach gave the most rancid churn, as it began to dawn on you that this wasn't some kind of sick joke - thus, you twisted your head around so you could look at the calendar on your wall. The numbers '2007' had never felt like so much of an axe to your skull, and the entire building must have heard the way you fucking screamed. Or, you're sent back in time, to almost two decades ago, by an arrogant entity with a saviour complex, which gives you a new life as an up-and-coming rockstar in the late 2000's alternative scene. Despite being given everything the average joe would desire, your only priority is to claw your way back to 2025, and get far away from the leering hands of stardom, drugs, leeching tabloids and crushing expectations of Bush's America. But as more pressing matters take a hold, and you're pushed into the orbit of a thirty year old Gerard Way, the artist who you looked up to the most, you're forced to consider what would happen if you chose to stay instead - and what unintended consequences that might entail. - gender neutral reader - msi slander because jimmy urine can burn in hell
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I felt like I was in a bad dream and couldn't wake up, everything was spinning. My chest hurt from how hard my heart was thumping. This necklace, how in the world did it get here? I didn't take it back here with me, I left it on Frank's grave in Jersey. I discreetly pinched myself to see if I was dreaming, but I didn't wake up. This was real life. "Oh! That's mine, the string must've broken loose." I heard a voice. I saw feet at first. Yellow converse shoes. Then I saw pants. Black jeans. Then I saw a jacket. A green camo military jacket, not real obviously. Then I saw tattooed hands holding a coffee cup. They were red, most likely freshly washed. Then I met eyes with the person before me. I dropped the necklace and gasped loudly, holding back a shocked scream. The person's face fell, eyes going wide. They took a step back and then a cautious one forward. "Gerard?" They whispered. "Frank..." TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts, and suicidal actions, mentions of alcoholism and drug abuse, mentions of sexual assault (rape), mentions of cheating, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

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