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fallinforerling · 11 months

Note

may i request (from the prompt phrases) 2 - 8 - 17 with erling 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

the shirt dilemma - eh

A/N: As I usually say: ERLING BRAINROT. I can’t stop writing for this man, I’m ABSOLUTELY in love with him. Thank you SO MUCH!!! for 800 followers. Feedback is always appreciated! Love you always xx

ೃ⁀➷ erling’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ erling’s masterlist

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: ̗̀➛ requested phrases:

2. “i'll never wear the jersey of someone who isn't my boyfriend.”

8. “why are you staring at me like that?”

17. “you have a really pretty face, have you ever heard that?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“I can’t believe people actually waste their time plotting about this stuff…” You murmured more to yourself than anyone else in the room, still scrolling through the infinite amount of photos that you found on Twitter. “Kinda creepy…”

“What’s up?” Jack murmured back, kicking your leg with his foot. You raised an eyebrow in his direction. “C’mon, you just said something that implies tea. Now you have to spill it.”

“I don’t have to do shit, Grealish.” You laughed, kicking him back. “But okay, here.” You sat on the couch. “I was on Twitter, and I found some tweets with my name on it, which is kinda weird since I’m not a public figure so… I don’t know, I was digging on my own shit until…” You turned your phone so he could see it.

His eyebrows raised until they almost touched the base of his hair, giving you a full view of the funniest expression you’d ever seen on him since ever.

“That’s an interesting take.”

“¿De qué hablan?” (What are you guys talking about?”) Julián asked, entering the room with hands full of snacks.

“Nada.” (Nothing) You really hated Julián’s impecable hearing. He was always around the corner when you were gossiping with Jack. “Más bien dame comida, que me tuviste esperando como mil años. Me muero de hambre.” (Give me some food, you’ve got me waiting for like a thousand years. I’m starving)

“Luego no me pidas que te cuente algo, porque te vas a quedar con las ganas.” (Later, don’t ask me for any gossip, cause I won’t share any) He replied, throwing a bag of chips at you.

“I actually love when you two speak Spanish in front of me and I understand absolutely nothing.” Jack said after you grabbed the bag, not paying attention to the dirty look Julián gave you before sitting next to him. “Makes me feel like I’m back in Spain for some vacation.”

“I just love when she speaks Spanish.” Erling’s voice startled you. You looked up at him, who was just entering the room. You tore your eyes apart from his figure as quickly as you could, wishing that the heart eyes weren’t that noticeable for any of them. God, he was so handsome.

“You love everything that she does.” Julián said, giggling a bit when you shot him a nasty look. That little fucker.

“True, you’re the biggest fanboy I’ve ever seen in my life.” Jack teased, nudging Erling’s arm when he sat next to you.

“What can I say? I’m a man with great taste.” Erling shot back, leaving you all shaky on the inside. You had to prevent your mouth from falling wide open. You could never get used to that type of compliments coming from him.

It was times like these when you wondered if Erling had any feelings for you. It would be awesome if he did. But you knew it couldn’t be possible; he was playing and teasing around. You were just friends.

“If you’re going to flirt with her, I’m leaving.” Jack said, openly enjoying how uncomfortable you were getting from all the attention. “But also? We could manage to see if we can get this little brat to come to the next game, eh?”

“No, no! Don’t start with that. I already said no a million times before.” You were tired of it. You knew, from past experience, that you would be recognized, and those stupid gossip sites would eat you up.

“C’mon, don’t be such a… coward.” Julián replied, always up to teasing you as well. “It’s fun, you should totally go. Emilia’s gonna be there.”

“But…”

“No, no, not ‘but’. You’re coming, end of discussion.” Erling cut you off, smiling widely when you looked at him. “Please?”

Aw, man. Fuck big blonde guys with green eyes.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

So there you were, two days later. Full of regrets and suffering, seeing how your friends (or more like enemies at this point) were smiling like little kids while you stood in the middle of the Etihad Stadium shop. Your arms were crossed, not wanting to give in two times in a row when it came to these guys’ wishes, but it was getting more and more difficult as the minutes passed and Erling’s eyes kept flashing you little looks that were keeping you on the edge.

“Why?” You finally spoke up, giving in to the silence that had overcome the room. “I’ve already accepted to come against my will. Why do I have to wear a jersey as well?”

“Because! Everyone that really loves the team wears a shirt!” Jack said, giving you a knowing look that screamed duh. “You’re our friend, it would be so rude if you just go there wearing…” He pointed to your baby blue shirt with a grin. “That.”

“What’s the matter with it? It’s City’s color, isn’t it?”

“C’mon, you’re not actually doing the most out here wearing a blue shirt, darling.” Erling’s voice had an effect on you. Dammit. “Be a good girl and wear a jersey.”

No, no, no. Don’t fall for it just because he called you a… Oh, god. God, help your daughter.

“Fine!” As usual, you just gave in once Erling stepped in. “Pick a stupid shirt so I can get out of here.”

You were hoping that you were being dramatic over nothing and that they’d probably pick a blank shirt with no actual handle on the back, but as Erling approached his own fucking section, you knew you were absolutely fucked.

“No! Not your stupid ego getting the best of you, I’m not wearing a Haaland shirt!” You wanted to. But it was the worst idea in the world. “I’ll never wear the jersey of someone who isn’t my boyfriend. That’s just a horrible idea.” You didn’t know why you just said that, but it was out there before you could backtrack on your words.

“Why not?” Jack asked, getting closer to you with that cheeky grin that you hated. “What’s wrong with wearing a friend’s jersey just for today? It isn’t good enough?”

Oh, you knew what he wanted to say with that little tone on the word “friend”.

“Because, my dear Jack. People love to speculate about things without actual proof. So, if they see me wearing Erling’s shirt while being here, they’ll think I’m his girlfriend, and…”

“So what?” Erling said, already handing you a shirt. “Let people assume whatever they want to assume.”

“Perhaps, would it be that bad if people think that you are his girlfriend?” It was the first time in twenty minutes that Julián had said a word, but when he did, he cornered you. “Just saying…”

“Yeah, would it?” Erling’s tone sounded almost evil as he slightly pressed the shirt towards you, leaving you no other option but to take it. “Just put it on.”

“I hate you…” You whispered, still grabbing the shirt with a bit more force than necessary.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You felt like everyone’s eyes were on you for the entirety of the game, which was ridiculous since you were the most boring person and no one— and when you said no one, it was really no one— was giving you a second look as you sat and watched the game like everyone else did.

The paranoia you were feeling was ridiculous. Never in a million years have you felt more targeted for wearing a fucking shirt that said Haaland on the back. You could only pray that a photo of you didn’t make it to Twitter, where a bunch of weird people were already making assumptions about the actual nature of your relationship with Erling. That’s why you were being so negative about wearing anything City or Erling related. You knew how the rumors started.

Like it would ever happen in reality.

“Relájate, boluda. Parece que estás acá contra tu voluntad.” (Girl, relax. You look like you’re here against your will) Emilia shouted over the fans’ voices, seeming entertained by your current state. Just like her boyfriend, apparently.

“¿Te parece?” (You think?) You couldn’t help the sarcastic tone in your voice. “Todo gracias al pendejo de tu novio.” (All thanks to your stupid boyfriend)

“Ay, ya. No es para tanto…” (Aw, c’mon. It’s not that big of a deal…) She paused, giggling. “Estás así porque te gusta Erling, ¿no?” (You’re acting like this because you like Erling, aren’t you?)

“¡¿Qué?!” (What?!) You shouted, feeling your face go deep red as the referee blew the final whistle, letting the entire stadium know that the game was over.

“It’s so obvious, babe. You totally like that man.” She took your hand, not letting you overcome the fact that someone finally acknowledged your feelings for him. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” Was all you managed to say, looking around to check if someone was paying attention to you. Again.

“The dressing room.”

Oh-oh.

Your eyes darted to the pitch, where most of the players were still walking around while exchanging greetings and jerseys. You spotted Erling right away; it was very difficult not to. He towered over almost every single person that walked past him, which could be funny if it weren’t for the fact that Emilie knew about your feelings for him. Suddenly, it felt so real. It felt like everyone knew.

“Move or I’ll have to drag you there myself.” Emilia’s tone gave the impression of being absolutely serious about the dragging part, so you started walking out of pure instinct.

You made your way across the sea of people that were leaving or lingering around the benches. You saw how it all appeared to move a bit slower as you followed her, who still had a hold on your wrist, like she was almost preventing you from escaping. You didn’t want to see Erling right now; the way you were so worked up about Emilia’s words was stupid, but you knew yourself, and it was very possible that you were about to blow everything because of the nerves.

“Breathe. You’re crushing my hand.”

“Is it too obvious?” You whispered once you made it to the tunnels.

“That you like him?” She turned to face you, smiling a bit before fixing your hair. “Not to him, I believe.” Her eyes looked behind you, a bigger smile appeared on her face. “But maybe it’s time to let you know that he likes you. Gotta go, Juli’s coming. Good luck.” She kissed your cheek briefly before walking away, leaving you nervous and shaky.

It seemed like being nervous and shaky was the new thing for you.

“What happened to the “no wearing a shirt that’s not my boyfriend's” rule?” You could feel Erling’s hands pinching the fabric of your new shirt before you turned around to face him. His voice was filled with that unique tone he only used when he won, or got his way around something he wanted. Today, both things happened. “Looks great on you, by the way.”

“You made me wear it, loser.” The only way to dissimulate the silent screaming you wanted to do right now was to answer with irony.

“And it’s the best decision I’ve made so far.” He stood in front of you in all his glory, clearly enjoying how pissed you were. You couldn’t help your eyes from going to his bare chest for a whole minute, biting your lip when your eyes met his. His smirk was so big, you wanted to punch him. “About to make the second one.”

So, so handsome. And so, so cocky.

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?” Was all you managed to say after a few seconds of pure silence, despite all the teammates roaming through the tunnel, clapping and screaming from their recent win.

“You have a really pretty face; have you ever heard that?” He leaned in, and your heart almost escaped through your throat. You couldn’t tear your eyes apart from his.

What if Emilia was right? Was this the right moment? He was totally flirting with you… Wasn’t he?

“I…”

“What about this? You wait here, looking as lovely as you do right now until I shower… And then I can take you to dinner so we can celebrate the win?” He whispered the proposition like it was a promise. At this point, you couldn’t even speak. “How does that sound?”

“Yeah, sure…” You whispered back, holding your bag so close to your chest that you could feel the handles burying themselves in your skin.

“Perfect.” Then he kissed your cheek, and you really stopped breathing for a few milliseconds. And as you were starting to have a little panic attack, he left.

Have you just… agreed to a date with Erling Haaland? Well, fuck.

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sam-halabi-uae · 1 year

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#sexy #epic #becauseracecar #eg8 #eg9 #eh9 #eh8 #honda #civic #dashboard #10000rpm #typer #cluster #thankful to those who supported me @zlatkodxb & big thanks to Global Pinoy Auto Repair Workshop Abu Dhabi Mussafah 11 Sam Halabi Performance Garage https://www.instagram.com/p/CliEKdrPZJA/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#sexy #epic #becauseracecar #eg8 #eg9 #eh9 #eh8 #honda #civic #dashboard #10000rpm #typer #cluster #thankful

0 notes

libraryofloveletters · 1 year

Note

Hi bestie, I’m back again :) can I get a social media au for Erling! She’s posting him up at his game, and also showing off her jersey, he makes spicy comments under her post 👀

you got it bestie // all photos are from instagram and/or pinterest

peaches

youruser

liked by erling.haaland, jackgrealish, rubendias and 48,493 others

youruser: game day ⚽️

location: etihad stadium

view 283 comments

erling.haaland: did you take that from my closet?

↪️youruser: yes, it looks better on me than you 💅🏽

↪️erling.haaland: looks better on the floor but okay 🤣

mancity: good to see you supporting y/n!! 🩵

jackgrealish: you two are disgusting 🤮

↪️youruser: unfollow me then bestie 😘

erling.haaland

Liked by mancity, virgilvandijk, rubendias and 772,394 others

erling.haaland: special win today!! even more special with my girl watching ❤️

location: etihad stadium // tagged: mancity, youruser

view 2,383 comments

youruser: yeah no cause I was the only one in the crowd right??

↪️erling.haaland: the only one I get to take home so yeah

↪️youruser: you can take home anyone 🙄

↪️erling.haaland: not everyone would let me do what I do to you to them

eh9: the comments have me DEADDDDDD

rubendias: jackgrealish is right, you two are disgusting.

↪️youruser: it’s your giant teammate, not me.

youruser

liked by erling.haaland, yourbestie, jackgrealish and 63,393 others

youruser: hello sunshine

location: maldives

view 332 comments

ehandynfan: pretty!!

yourbestie: bring me back a nephew please

↪️erling.haaland: we’ll get started on that right now

↪️youruser: don’t listen to him

rubendias: 😍

erling.haaland: 🍑

↪️youruser: get out of my comments

↪️erling.haaland: and in you? okay coming!! 🏃🏼💨

#anj's 6k aus #erling haaland #erling haaland x y/n #erling haaland x reader #erling haaland x you #erling haaland instagram au #football instagram au #football social media au

693 notes · View notes

xlatiwritesx · 11 months

Text

The Only Real Thing | EH9

A/N: Finally !! A football Imagine !! The amount of players I imagined this for before settling for Erling 💀. Anyways, Enjoy 🥳

Genre: fluff, then heart-wrenching angst. Erling Haaland x Singer!FemReader.

Words: 4.7K

Synopsis: after your tour’s last show at the Etihad, your Manchester songwriting sessions start for the next six months. However, a newly found love between you and a Norwegian player gets harder to navigate the closer your time to go back to your life in the US gets.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

You look out the plane's window, trying to count the clouds filling up the night sky to get your mind off counting the cracks in your heart or the tears that won't stop falling.

Why won't anything last? Why can't anything perfect just exist? But then you wouldn't have had the six months worth a life time with him anyway.

It wasn't perfect. But you still loved every living minute of it. You loved his imperfect guitar skills, his imperfect dancing, his imperfect cooking. All his imperfects were perfect to you.

You wished that your team never handed out tickets to the ManCity players for your Etihad Stadium concert. You wished you hadn't met him. That meant you won't ever have all the memories from your short time together, and you were okay with that. You can live without this heart ache. You can definitely live without Erling's sobs and red face engraved in your head.

You try to pin point exactly when you lost yourself to him. Your songwriting sessions in Manchester were supposed to come and go quietly after your tour's last show at the Etihad.

You weren't supposed to run into a Norwegian player from a sky blue team two days later. He wasn't supposed to complement your music. You weren't supposed to blush as you thanked him. And he absolutely shouldn't have asked you out for lunch.

But you still ran into that Norwegian player, and you still agreed for lunch. You sat in the cool Manchester air outside a quiet restaurant and just talked about anything that came to mind.

You talked about music and he talked about football. You hoped he didn't notice how much you were enjoying talking with him over pizza and coke. It was embarrassingly a lot. But you didn't know that he felt exactly the same way.

He never wanted it to end.

He didn't want all his planning to purposely run into you outside the studio you worked at to end in just an hour.

So he was obviously unhappy when Pep called his number, asking where he was.

"Training?" You smiled, ignoring the disappointment that he had to go and that you'll probably never see him again. At least not in person.

"Yeah. Maybe I could show you around tomorrow since it's my day off. I've been in Manchester long enough to finally say this to someone" he proudly opens his arms and you laugh lightly, keeping your excitement as low as possible for it not to show.

And he did show you Manchester the next day. He took you downtown, to the park he always goes to when he wants to just relax after a busy week of games and training, to where all the tourists go when they usually visit, and where he and his teammates usually hang out around the Etihad.

"I never knew there's this much to do in Manchester" you smile at him and he shakes his head.

"Me neither. It's a beautiful 'City'" he does air quotes and laughs. You roll your eyes at his joke, laughing along with him.

He drops you off at your rented house and waits until you get inside. You fight the urge to look back and wave one last time at your newly found crush. You felt so stupid for admitting it, but for the next few weeks, you waited for him to text you, you danced around your room when he finally did, you hoped and dreamt of when he would ask you to hang out again, you looked for tickets to his games, thought about how his cheeks redden under the sun, how focused he gets when driving, and how excited he gets when he talks about football.

A few weeks of texting lead to something more. You start writing songs about how he made you feel. About your little interactions. About him.

Going downtown turned into going to his house. Just a few hours turned into all day. Hearing about training and games turned into watching them live at the Etihad.

"That was a great game!" You try to convince him as you walked out of the stadium after a disappointing game. He still sulks as you walk to his car.

"We could've won with a bigger difference" he whines and you shake your head, leaning back on his car door when you reached it. He stands in front of you.

"You still won, though. Give yourself and the team some credit" you tell him. He doesn't reply.

He looks up and you admire how the setting sun washes his face golden. He looks at you, not holding back any emotion from flooding his eyes and drowning you in admiration. You don't either. You don't hold back from staring into his eyes for as long as he would let you.

"I've been..." he walks closer to you, hesitantly taking your hands in his own. Your heart feels like it could stop any second. You almost urge him to just say it. To finally make your dreams come to life.

"You're all I think about" he laughs nervously. You don't. You're too flustered to do or say anything.

"And I just can't wait any longer to ask you to be mine. I want you for myself. I want you to be wearing my jersey when I look at the crowd and look for you" he says so quietly it's almost a whisper. You wanted to kiss him. Right then and there. So when he leaned in, you placed a hand on his cheek and he took that as an invitation to lean in further.

You've never felt anything like you did in that moment. Nothing even came close. Everything felt meaningless compared to it. You wanted him more than you've ever wanted anything. You wanted that kiss to last a life time, but nothing does unfortunately.

Once Erling pulled away, you looked down at your feet and pursed your lips together as he looked around. Nervous and flustered, you turn around and open the car door, getting in quickly and leaving Erling outside.

He looks at you through the window and chuckles. However, you don't see him jump up and down, raising two thumbs ups to Jack, John, and Ruben who just witnessed everything that happened between the two of you. They smiled proudly at Erling who never stopped talking about you to them. How he was going to ask you to be finally his. So, they had a mini party right there that he finally got you.

Things in the studio were fired up. With your raging emotions, so much was getting done and work has never been easier. You and Erling hung out every day at that point. He would sometimes come hang out at the studio, and you'd leave together to spend the night at his place.

He would cook you too salty, or too bland meals every time you went to his place. His movie choices were peculiar, yet enjoyable. His arms were slowly becoming home to you, and his clothes were becoming your daily attire.

You attended every game. You did wear his jersey to every single one of them, and though the Etihad was always full of thousands of people, Erling always looked up to only you to celebrate his goals.

It was a Tuesday night at his place. Half eaten, too salty pasta sat in ceramic plates on the coffee table and a soap opera on Erling's TV. You laid on top of Erling on his living room's couch, resting your head of his chest while silently counting his calm heart beats and enjoying the warmth from his wrapped arm around your body.

"Y/n" Erling calls quietly.

"Hm?" You hum in response, your eyes focused on the TV.

He suddenly detangles himself from you and towers above you as he stands next to the couch. You look up at him before he carries you. You giggle, unconsciously wrapping your arms around his neck and brining your face close to his.

Your foreheads touch and you both stay quiet for a second. You wait for Erling to speak.

"I'm in love with you, y/n y/l/n" he whispers and your heart explodes with an emotion you could only explain as love. You thought of all the explanations of love you came across throughout your life. You compared them to what you felt in that moment, but to no avail. Nothing came close to that feeling. That feeling could never be articulated. Could never be conveyed through mere speech or writing.

"I'm in love with you, Erling Haaland" you whisper back before kissing him, hoping to convey how real your feelings were for him. How deep you felt how you felt towards him.

As your fourth month in Manchester wraps up, you realize how far you and Erling have come. And how close your time to go back to the States was coming too.

But you kept your eyes shut and your ears plugged. You convinced yourself that by doing so, that day would just never come around.

You two still held hands every chance you got, you still slow danced around Erling's living room, you still went to every game, Erling still celebrated his goals and wins with only you. You kept writing songs about him and he kept dedicating all his hard work to you.

"Come on close your eyes" Erling urged and you placed both hands on your eyes. You were sat on his bed, ready to go to sleep when he announced that he got you something. He dangled a necklace right in front of your face.

"Open them" he orders quietly. You do so and gasp at the dangling jewelry in front of you.

Erling admires your reaction as you take the necklace in your hand. You inspect the golden letters written in his cursive handwriting. It was both of your initials.

"This way you'll always have a piece of me with you when I'm away" he says quietly and you look at him. You quickly hug him tightly, trying to bury the heart ache that only keeps getting more tangible.

The more time that passes, the harder it gets to hide the fact that this whole whirlwind romance won't last. You knew that. Erling knew that too. But, understandably, none of you wanted to admit it. So you swallowed the lump in your throat and forced your tears back into their ducts and he held you tighter than usual.

"I love you" you mumbled into his neck and he kissed your temple, still holding you.

"I love you" he said it back to you like he always did and forever will.

You finally meet his family. You get to know his younger sisters and help his mother in the kitchen. You try to test your football trivia with his dad and you actually impress him with how much you picked up since you got together with Erling.

Under the dinner table, your hands intertwine and your heart flutters at the way his parents smile at you every time Erling talks about you.

At the Etihad, things are also getting fired up because of Erling's raging emotions. He runs faster, laughs louder, and scores better. Pep, Jack, and John stand next to each other, admiring his genuine laughter at something Kyle said.

"Funny what love does to you" John says quietly, still smiling at Erling. Jack nodded, his eyes focused on Erling as well.

Only Pep was worried. He knew once the slightest crack occurs in Erlings dream relationship, and not because his performance will plummet, but because he knew how hard heartbreak could be. And he knew damn well that he'll just stand and watch, because nothing ever mends a broken heart.

Towards the end of your sixth month in Manchester, a coherent draft of your upcoming studio album finally came together. You couldn't wait to go home and tell Erling all about it and even listen to it with him.

It was all about falling in love with him after all.

But the plane tickets your manager handed you blew everything away. It was a slap across your face. A wake up call to finally leave the waking dream you've been so immersed in.

"Couldn't find any sooner flights, unfortunately. You've got a lot to catch up to once we get back to the States. Some stations asked if they could..." you couldn't hear anything anymore.

How could you be so stupid? It was only then that you realized how far you've let go of yourself.

You knew you were leaving. At some point. But it still definitely snuck up on you. You've been so in love that you forgot the cruelty of your world. You've been in a shared dream that you've completely forgotten about your own.

You didn't know how you ended up at Erling's place, but you did. You walked in, your feet leading you to where he usually was in the living room. It was familiar. Too familiar.

You didn't say a single word. You just laid on the couch, your head on his thigh. He didn't say anything either.

You stayed like that for what seemed like hours, but just a minute later, Erling spoke.

"What's wrong?" His voice was so quiet he was almost whispering. You unravelled. Completely came undone.

You got up, buried your head in chest and just sobbed. You didn't see an end to it. Not in the near future at least. Startled, Erling tries to look at your face, placing both his hands on your wet cheeks.

"Hey, look at me" he whispers. You try to hold it in to try and have a conversation about it.

But what were you going to say? That you couldn't stay? That you were leaving him after the six months worth a lifetime and more? That you weren't taking his sisters to the park next Sunday? Not going to his game next Monday either? That you were returning his clothes that were practically yours? That you were never waking up next to him again? Not partying with his teammates after every win? That you'll move on and find someone else eventually, but never a love like you've had with him?

You could never.

It takes insane self control to take a steady breath to speak one single coherent sentence. You looked at your hands as his eyes studied your puffy face.

"My plane leaves on Wednesday. To LA" you risk a look at his face and it's as if his life crumbled. In a split second, Erling is up on his feet and chuckling. You start crying again, covering your face with your hands.

"That's all?" He laughs. You look up at him and stand up to walk to him.

"You're crying because you're leaving for a few-"

"No! Not a few days, Erling! I'm going back to the US because my whole life is there! Your whole life?! Here!" You scream at him, tears streaming down your face. You let out a few sobs.

"So? We'll make it work" he shrugs and you roll your eyes at his state of denial. You knew. He knew, too.

You won't work. Ever. Not when your lives were across the world from one another.

"Yeah and how is that?" You impatiently cross your arms and wipe your nose with the sleeve of your sweater.

He looks at you for a long moment in a way that cut your heart a million times. Your lips shake and you turn away from him.

You feel his arms around you from behind almost immediately. He keeps you on your feet. You feel him kiss your temple gently, as if reassuring you that it'll be alright.

But it will not. It will never be.

"We'll find a way. We will" even he sounds unsure now and it breaks you. It really shatters your wellbeing.

You let yourself cry as Erling just held you in his safe arms. You try to gather yourself, but you fail for the next ten minutes. Once you succeed, you guide Erling to sit next to you on the couch.

"Erling" you call his name even though he was right next to you. You take his hand and hold it with both of your own.

"Once I leave Manchester" you start. You couldn't control the blurriness in your eyes any longer, so you just let a tear roll down your cheek.

"I'm never coming back" you look up at him. You wished you hadn't, because his face fell once the words left your mouth. You could tell it was the first time it really hit him.

It really hit him hard. In just two days from now, you'll only be another pretty celebrity in someone else's phone. Running from interview to interview, meeting guys way better than him. Guys who could actually play guitar and know how songwriting works. Guys who can actually be there. Guys that were not tied by a football career across the globe from you.

"Erling, I can't come see you in breaks because I never have any other than one or two days. You deserve someone who can actually be here for you-"

He cuts you off by pulling you into his chest, holding you so tight that it was becoming harder to breath. You just stopped talking. Not bearing to break him or yourself any further.

"You're the only one I want. Even if you leave, that will never ever change. Don't tell me I deserve someone better. Don't tell me that I will find someone who could make my heart beat the way you make it do" he begs and you bury your face in the crook of his neck. You didn't sob. You were way too tired. You just let the tears silently find their way down your face.

Erling was wrong. You'll never find a guy better then he is. You loved teaching him how to play the guitar every time he visited the studio, and he didn't know much about songwriting, but he was the inspiration behind your entire upcoming album.

None of you could say it. None of you could come to terms with it and actually face it. You just held each other as if it was your last day on earth.

Waking up the next day next to Erling didn't feel the same. It didn't make your heart race from excitement and happiness. He didn't kiss your face until you yelled at him to stop, your laughter filling his house.

The rest of the day was spent like normal, though. You were skeptical at first when Erling woke up and was acting like nothing had happened the night before. He didn't seem sad. Or like this was technically your last day together. But as the day went on, you appreciated having one last day with him instead of just crying all day.

You went out for a walk at the park Erling took you to when you first met. Laughed at a cat fight over a bird. Sat under a big tree and held hands while taking in the view around you. Went with Erling to his training session afterwards and cheered him on like you always did. After training, you just went home and Erling immediately got to cooking after a quick shower. You watched his every move from where you sat on the kitchen island.

After dinner, you spent the rest of the night just acting blind to the fact that once you left, you were never coming back to him. Holding hands, listening to his heart beat, rewatching your favorite movie, talking about random topics and sharing your opinions on them.

But time never stopped for anyone. Or anything for that matter. It was so cruel that it kept going until one in the morning. Until you had to leave. And it still kept going as you detangled yourself from Erling.

Suddenly, the atmosphere got heavy. Your feet felt like they couldn't walk you out of his door. Your heart didn't seem to take it.

Erling places his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He really tried to not cry when it was time, but it was just too much. It was a lot to handle his first ever true love to end just like this.

"Erling" you call him shakily, but he's sobbing at this point. You sat back down next to him, not knowing what to do. He stops himself from crying all of a sudden and gets up. You follow.

"I'll drive you back" he says quietly. You don't object. You follow him to his car.

The drive to your place was awfully quiet. It was too quiet. Every few minutes, you tried stealing a look at him. Checking if he was okay. But you were just kidding yourself. How could he be okay? How could you?

He steps out of his car once he parks in your house's driveway. You do so too. You walk around the car to meet him by the driver's door.

You take his hands and he holds yours. You look up at him and muster a smile. One tugs at his lips too. It was sad, what you were going through. But beautiful. It was all so beautiful nothing will ever compare to it.

He leans in and kisses you. So passionately you almost scream in agony at the thought of it being the last time. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back, hoping to make him feel an ounce of how he made you feel.

You don't pull away from each other for what seemed like an eternity. But when you do, you knew it was a piece of yourself that you've lost and will never be able to restore.

"I love you, y/n" Erling whispers.

"I love you, Erling" you whisper back.

With that, you turn away and walk quickly to your door, as if to outrun the pain. But you knew better than that.

Once your front door shuts, Erling quickly gets into his car, coming completely undone. He cries his heart out, hitting the steering wheel and cursing his mind for playing a reel of the best six months of his life.

You do too. You curse yourself for loving him. You curse yourself for knowing what it's like to be held by him. What it's like to kiss him. Feel him. Hear him talk or watch him cook. Your heart hurts. Your chest hurts too. Your eyes won't stop flooding with tears. You hold the necklace he gave you a few months ago as if you were holding on to him.

Somehow, the next day came a long. Your assistant and manager helped pack the car with you. They doesn't ask about your puffy eyes or sick demeanor. They naturally connected the dots. They knew about you and Erling. Everyone did.

You let yourself silently cry in the backseat on the way to the airport, hoping your manager and assistant don't hear or notice.

After checking in and on your way to security, you hear someone call your name. You turn around to see Jack, John, and Ruben. You smile at them. Genuinely.

"Hey" you greet them, giving them each a quick hug. You ignore the heart ache from not seeing Erling with them.

You two said goodbye last night anyway.

"We couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye in person" John tells you and you smile at them.

"It was fun knowing you guys. Thank you for everything. I never thought I'd make any friends in my time here honestly" you admit.

"Don't let your newly found Brit side die once you get back to America" Jack warns and everyone laughs. Including yourself.

You shake your head and wave at them. They all smile and wave back to you as you start walking backwards.

"I'll stay in touch and watch your games still!" You assure them before turning away to follow your manager and assistant.

And that's how you ended up in a plane, looking out at the clouds, crying as your mind raced with a million thoughts. a million what ifs and would'ves. You thought you won't live long after that heartbreak. You couldn't keep going like this.

But you didn't. As your manager told you, your schedule was full once you got back. You woke up every morning, got your makeup and hair done before running out the door for your scheduled interviews, album shoots, recordings, and many other things you had to do before your album came out.

You still cried yourself to sleep for weeks, though. But it slowly got better. You focused on your work. Your friends. Yourself. You tried your best to not give up. He wouldn't have wanted that for you. Ever.

When your album finally dropped, it was your best one yet. It broke records you never thought you'd break and so many people were enjoying it all across the world. The week your album dropped was a dream turned into reality after two years of constant hard work.

As part of your promotions, you sat in one of the many interviewee chairs you had sat in before. You got comfortable as the interviewer asked you all sorts of questions and you answered them like you always did, wittily yet sufficiently, making the tiny crowd laugh in their seats as they watched.

"About your new album" the interviewer starts and the whole room cheers. You cheer too.

"It seems to be following some sort of plot line, as if telling a story in a way" he continues and you nod along, confirming his theory.

"What's it really about?" The interviewer asks hopefully. You already decided how much you were going to tell the public, so the question didn't surprise you at all.

"About a year ago, I was writing this album in Manchester, UK, and I met this guy while I was there" you start and the room erupts with cheers again. You smile at them before going on.

"We fell for each other a bit too hard" you laugh lightly and the interviewer nods, laughing along.

"But I had to come back to the States and he had to stay in the UK, so" you sigh towards the end.

It was moments like these when you allowed yourself to think about him. About everything that happened last year. You never allowed yourself past just a thought crossing your mind.

But when you actually talked about it, you allowed yourself more than just that. You allowed yourself to remember the little details. To miss him and wonder how he was doing. You've met some guys since then, but Erling had already set the bar impossibly high for any of them to even see.

In Manchester, Erling was still being the star player he is. Since you've left, he had won his first Premier League with ManCity. He still thought about you before, during, and after each game. He kept up with all your news. Watching you shine from afar when you were once in between his arms. He wished you knew how proud he was of you. Of how well your album was doing. That everywhere he went in Manchester, it was being played somewhere.

That night, he watched your interview in bed, his phone resting on the pillow where your head used to rest. He watches you talk about your album and he thinks of how he would've celebrated its success with you. But all he did was smile at his phone screen when you did and hoped you were doing okay off of it too. He prayed every night and everyday that fate will eventually bring you two back together somehow. Still the same, but under different and better circumstances. You prayed for that too.

But until then, all you had was the memories you had together, replaying in your heads and reminding you of the only time you truly felt alive.

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trentskis · 5 months

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sorry to eh9 post but im screaming a bit at this

#the caption kinda real actually..#see this is why i said idm him as a person just as a player.. bcus he's just some random man on twitter

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embraphotos · 1 year

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Holyrood Road, EH9

#Holyrood Road #Canongate #Edinburgh #Scotland #United Kingdom #Street Photography #Photographers on Tumblr #2022

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truck-fump · 1 month

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'Suckered': <b>Trump</b> donor money going to pay massive legal bills - YouTube

New Post has been published on https://www.google.com/url?rct=j&sa=t&url=https://www.youtube.com/watch%3Fv%3DZkCctriA8_Y&ct=ga&cd=CAIyGjUzM2UwMTY5ZmFhZTIwMGQ6Y29tOmVuOlVT&usg=AOvVaw2gQB7KV7YRgsDhUN0W-EH9

'Suckered': Trump donor money going to pay massive legal bills - YouTube

Small donations were the lifeblood of Donald Trump’s first two presidential runs. But that money is drying up fast amid his escalating legal …

#Uncategorized

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rodos-news · 2 months

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Nova: Πάνω από 500.000 ευρώ για έργα σε Δαδιά και Ρόδο

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fallinforerling · 11 months

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have you met before? | chapter 2 - eh

ೃ⁀➷ erling's masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ erling's taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A couple of days passed by, and you found yourself missing Alfie’s presence in the early hours of the shift. His bad jokes or anecdotes were entertaining to listen to while you gave the shop the last touches for the rest of the day; now that you didnʼt have them, you were really bored.

Well, at least you had Thomas to keep you company, but even he got sick and couldn’t make it to the shop these past few days.

So here you are, all alone, with only the books to keep you company.

You were restocking the bookshelves, thinking hard and deep about which books you’d “borrow” to take home. It was a silly game that you had with yourself since it was obvious that you were keeping them to yourself. None of the previously “borrowed” books made it back to the shop. Just as you were about to take the few ones you liked, the doorbell rang.

You turned with a smile on your lips, ready to welcome the new customer, when you saw the most tall, blonde, and intimidating man you’d ever seen in your life. He looked back at you with a small grin, unsure of what to do next while you kept staring at him, surprised by his physique.

Stop, you’re being rude.

“Welcome! May I help you?” You said, recovering from his presence. You walked behind the counter, dropping the books on a nearby stool while feeling nervous all of the sudden.

The only thing that came to mind as you tilted your head to look at him was that he was really tall.

“Do you have cream cheese croissants, by any chance?” His voice, although deep, was very soothing. His accent reminded you of a Nordic country. It reminded you of Alfie.

“I do! Freshly baked, may I add.” You pointed to the section where the croissants were. “I just got them out the oven like… twenty minutes ago.”

“That’s bloody amazing. I’ll take two, please.” You smiled when he kind of cursed, but his whole attitude was so relaxed that you didn’t mind. It seemed like he didn’t even realize what he said. “Oh, and a cappuccino if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Please! Sit while I make that coffee for you.” You couldn’t help but shoot him a tiny glance as you intentionally picked the best croissants for him. He was also really cute. “Anything else?”

“Uhm, cookies?” He said it like a question, making you giggle when he noticed it as well. “I mean, yeah, cookies. Do you have butter cookies?”

“Good choice! They’re the most popular around here. Those are actually still in the oven… If you don’t mind waiting a bit for them.”

“I’ll wait as long as you want. Don’t worry about that.”

And he’s nice as well? Damn, what a catch.

“Great! Let me make that cappuccino.” Why were you feeling nervous? He was just another customer.

A really cute, tall, handsome, blonde, customer that won’t stop looking at you, but that’s all.

“Are you new in town?” He asked all of the sudden, surprising you a bit as you put the cup down in front of him.

“I am, yeah.” You smiled when your eyes met, his lips already in a half-smile. “It’s been kinda difficult, but I really like Manchester. It helps that I have my little shop to keep me occupied.”

“It’s not easy to come from a foreign country, but hey, I actually love Manchester too. It’s a bit boring when I don’t have anything to do in my free time, but it is what it is.” He took the cup, giving it a sip before resuming his chat. “Do you have friends?”

“No, no I don’t.” That was something you were really shy about. But again, you weren’t a very out-going person. “It’s very difficult to make friends, especially since I’m always in the shop.”

He was about to answer when the alarm for the cookies rang inside the kitchen, startling you both.

“I should get that. The cookies are on their way.”

“Sure, take your time.”

And you did. You took various trays full of different cookies, but even after you put them on new ones to take out and restock, you stood there, red-faced and timid about the absolute cutie that was sitting there, drinking his coffee and making small talk with you. Was he flirting or just being nice? It might be the latter, but you couldn’t help to smile at the possibility of him being a bit interested in you.

You should stop reading so many romance books. It was rotting your brain.

“Focus…” You whispered, taking the tray of butter cookies first before going back outside. “Here they are!” You carefully put it on the counter, showing him the contents. “How many did you want?”

“Can I have ten?” His eyes didn’t leave your face, even when you moved around to find a bag. When you were just finishing the packaging, he stood up. “Can I also have your number with that order?”

“My… number?” Ohmygodohmygodohmygod????

“It’s okay if you don’t want to…” He blushed a bit, and then you knew you’d regret not giving this man your number.

“I’ll give it to you if you promise to show me around Manchester.”

“Sounds like a deal.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Oh, my dear! And he asked for your number right away? He must be really enchanted by you. But again, who wouldn’t be? You’re a very gorgeous young lady.” Thomas was laughing as loudly as he could, enjoying a little bit too much the story of how Erling (and yes, you knew his name) asked for your number a couple of days ago.

You were very embarrassed about the fact that the only person who was trustworthy enough to know your business was your regular customer, Thomas, who was also a sixty year old man, but you didn’t actually mind. He always gave incredible advice.

“Yeah— We’ve been texting back and forth for a few days. I’m nervous every time I open the shop. I feel like he’s going to appear out of nowhere.” You took a deep breath, washing another cup in the sink while Thomas sat on the counter. “Do you think it’s dumb?”

“Feeling anxious? Of course not, angel. And why on earth hasn’t he asked you out yet? Or even visited you?” You refused to laugh at his annoyed expression.

“He’s been working a lot…”

“Oh, yeah? And what does that lad do anyway?”

“I dunno… He mentioned something sport related but I’m not really sure about what his role is.” You signed. “What am I gonna do, Tom? What if he’s a douche?”

“Well, if he…” His advice was cut off by the doorbell. You both looked up, the conversation dying instantly at the sight of Erling standing there, like a few days ago, seeming unsure but with the same sweet smile that you liked from the first moment you saw him. “Fucking hell…” Thomas whispered, taking you away from the daydreaming.

“Erling!” You fixed your hair out of habit. You felt your hands shaking just a bit as he approached both of you.

“Hey… Sorry I didn’t stop by earlier in the week; I was a bit busy.” His voice was as soothing as you remembered. Lovely.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Thomas’ laugh made it impossible.

“The hell you were! Fucking shit, it’s a pleasure to see you, lad.” He tapped Erling’s shoulder with a heavy hand, looking from him to you like he couldn’t believe his own eyes. “Bloody hell, darling. When were you going to mention that you know Erling fucking Haaland?”

“W-what?” You couldn’t hide your confusion, even if you tried to. Did Thomas knew Erling? Was his last name Haaland? Why did that ring a bell?

“Uh, nice to meet you too, mate. How’s everything going?” Even though Erling’s eyes showed surprise at Thomas’ obvious recognition, he played it cool. He accepted the old man’s hand and shook it with the strength and confidence of someone who is used to it.

“This is unbelievable, really.” Thomas looked starstruck. Who was this guy?

“Well, I didn’t know you two knew each other?” It wasn’t actually a statement. You were asking.

“Not at all. But I sure know this lad’s skills. Fucking beast on the pitch.” Thomas shook his head one more time before getting up from the stool. “I might be back in twenty. Are you going to still be around by then?”

“Of course, sir.” Erling’s tone was as calm as it gets. When Thomas got out of the shop, he turned to face you again, his eyes seeming to say a silent apology for whatever that was. “Happens from time to time.”

“What? Getting recognized by strangers?” You jokingly said, unsure of what to expect next. “Are you… famous or something like that?”

Erling shrugged, taking a seat on Thomas’ previous stool.

“You could say that. It’s what comes with my job.”

“Which is…?” You couldn’t handle the suspense.

“Football player.” He smiled, apparently used to dropping that bomb on people. “But I’m glad you didn’t know that.”

“Woah.” You smiled back, slightly shocked by the fact that the cute guy who asked for your number was an actual celebrity whose existence you had no idea of. “Kinda explains why you’re so fit.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to die. “I mean, you know, so muscular? Not that I really got my attention on that particular aspect, but... I should shut up.”

He looked at you like you were the most amusing person to ever walk on Earth, and then he laughed so hard you started to giggle from how contagious it was.

“No worries. I don’t mind you noticing those things about me.” He leaned a bit on the counter. “I was actually coming to see if you wanted to have dinner tonight?”

Oh. Oh, wow. It’s really happening.

“Of course I do.” The smile you gave him almost broke your face in half. “What time?”

“Eight?”

“Sounds like a deal.”

“Sounds like a date.” Oh.

“A date it is.”

And just as you were about to say something dumb for how much stuff was going on inside your head, the doorbell rang again, and Thomas was back.

“Got time to sign an old man’s jersey?”

You both laughed at the sight of him out of breath, holding two football shirts with a tight grip.

“I sure do.” Erling stretched his hand to him, and Thomas gave him the t-shirts with such enthusiasm that your heart melted a bit.

He was a fan.

“Thank you for doing this.” You whispered when he leaned again on the counter, taking the sharpie you gave him and carefully signing the shirts.

“It’s not a problem.”

Wasn’t he sweet?

You had to restrain yourself from sighing like a schoolgirl with her first crush as he gave the shirts back to Thomas, chatting a little while before leaving, not before giving you a kiss on the cheek that made you a bit weak on the knees.

“So?” Oh, Thomas. You big old gossip.

“I have a date tonight.”

You wouldn't have thought it was possible for a man like Thomas to scream that high, but he did, and you didn’t stop laughing for at least twenty minutes.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * ERLING’S TAGLIST

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