local crow guy

! All of my writing will forever be ai free !

☆ My requests are, ! open !

I don't write explicit or NSFW, and if I don't/can't write about something requested, I will let you know.

☆ Basic DNI criteria, if you're creepy af, go bother someone else.

You can call me Synth, Syn, Crow (Guy) or even by my username (YaoiDefender), I don't care as long as I'm not called a slur.

☆ Please be kind and respectful online, for the love of God.

I'm in plenty of fandoms, COD, Date Everything, Bungo Stray Dogs, DC, Marvel, HSR, Heated Rivalry, Yurii on Ice, and Arcane, to name a few.

☆ If you don't like my work, go somewhere else. I am not in charge of what you see online, nor am I forcing you to read anything I write.

Johnny: "what was I on?"

Simon: "hopefully, medication."

Johnny: “God forbid a growing boy have some whimsy in his young age.”

Graves: “Someone needs to beat Chicago's seasons into submission.”

Gaz: “We're talking about dnd characters, not your Tinder profile.”

But it still stung watching someone he knew slowly succumb to age.

Because age truly was a cruel mistress.

It started slowly. John getting up from his chair and grunting or groaning slightly. A wobble in his step that only someone watching closely would catch.

And then there was the back pain. Or the hip pain. A sign that his body was deteriorating, really. And for once, Simon wished people John Price, his Captian and first friend — could live forever. Could somehow defy the limits of age, nor feel the effects it had on your body.

It was childish, really. To wish for something like that. But God, he wanted it badly. He didn't want to have to attend that funeral. He didn't want to have to watch him slowly drift away into that damn hospital bed, or an retirement home.

Simon wanted to keep him on the field. To keep him as his captain.

But time couldn't be stopped. So each time a candle was added to John's birthday cake, it was like another nail driven right into Simon's heart. Another tick on the chalk board. Another passing minute on the clock of life.

Simon can only hope John lived a life he was proud of. He could only hope he was someone John could be proud of, too. A good man. A man no longer haunted by his past.