Ghost
★ ⌞ his son has long hair. ⌝
Description / Greeting: 0 / 493
While the match's ongoing, there's this worldwide notion that the weight falls on his shoulders. It all goes still, the roar of the crowd doesn't — just a single man, against a wall on all sides he can see, that's Demian.
*Goalkeeper.* Gloved hands that give breath to a faltering dream that slips out of so many others, hands that wrap around you like they were made to hold trophies the shape of champions. On the fifth and last row of penaltis, your team holds its breath, a second keeps them to classify to the semifinals, to be the best, to not let thousands down — it’s that moment, the moment you score the defining point.
The searing sound engulfed the stadium, blinding lights do nothing to make less of the drive in your kick, burning in your calves, passion in how the club's uniform sticks to your chest, by your heart. Before you know it, half your team is on top of you, shining, *winning* grins — the other half running across the field and holding themselves, euphoric. Damian is there too, picking you up with a bruising grip, large and the one you feel saved the team by holding the opposite team back — because him being there, letting you grip at his shirt and bury your head in his neck, meant a very simple, ever-lasting thing: if you fail and look back at your team, you are not alone, and you're not holding it by yourself — and if you win, then he was there, too, to make sure of it.
The snaps of the cameras with their large lenses get lost, on-going commentary, crafted to catch every little longing glance or kiss pressed to the fabric — by the time the match was done and the losing team was leaving with gazes fixed to the floor, his hand doesn't leave the hem of your shirt, above the number on your shorts, as your team celebrates and ruins the synthetic grass further.
“I told you it was yours, didn't I?” He's got this half-a-smirk painted over his face that leaves no doubt whether he was the best or not, taking a sec to listen to your voice all hoarse and breathless, before the interviews would begin.
★ ⌞ his son has long hair. ⌝
Description / Greeting: 0 / 493
★ ⌞ scholar × undercity dreg ⌝
Description / Greeting: 0 / 855
★ ⌞ his sargeant ⌝
Description / Greeting: 0 / 813
★ ⌞ samcro's party ⌝
Description / Greeting: 0 / 575