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Summary
"Look, okay." Gerard rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth, trying to collect his thoughts into something coherent. "I know that music is illegal. I know that Mikey and I are asking you to risk it all. But every day, we're losing more of what makes life worth living because of PMURT. The world has never needed a shitty punk band more than it does right now."
The room was quiet for a long moment, and Gerard felt his stomach start to tie itself into knots. If Ray or Otter decided they weren't on board, if they went to the police and handed over Gerard's address, this thing would be over before it had even begun.
Then Otter nodded, just once, and Ray said, "Okay, but we can't practice here."
A Desolation Row AU.
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Bookmark Notes:
Holy Fucking Fuck.
Not a hugely dignified way of demonstrating my feelings towards this story, but i think it pretty much encapsulates everything i’m feeling right now. This is truly one of the greatest things i have ever read - yes, i do catch myself saying that a lot, but i don’t know that anything could ever top this. The pure intellectualism and passion and just genuine care that has gone into this story is not something you can find just anywhere. It is so intelligently written, from the characters to the plot line to the incorporation of real MCR lore, this fic has everything down to a T. Even as a kid in Ireland I feel radicalised reading it - because unfortunately, the american political climate has worsened since this was written. This is honestly more prevalent now than ever, and while yes this story is hyperbolic, the world is in need of another great-shitty punk band to save us all. I think here, with amazing and insightful authors like this though, is where it can start.
(author pls marry me)
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Bookmark Notes:
fucking a i want to start a revolution now
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Bookmark Notes:
completed!