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{The Baseball Game}

phoenix-on-her-own:

your-constant-angel:



She added. “Don’t say England too loud-” she leaned forward, a teasing grin on her face. “Apparently girls go crazy for english boys. You’ll never get out of here alive.” Laughing a bit she added, “You’re on. The Yankee’s don’t stand a chance.” She offered her hand to shake on the deal, before settling back in her seat. “How long are you in town for?”

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"No, right I’d better remember that," he shook his head, faintly embarrassed. He hoped that Phoenix wasn’t hitting on him because that would definitely make things a bit awkward. It happened to him a lot, girls mistaking his friendliness for something more. He shook her hand firmly and looked to the pitch were the Tigers were up to bat. Marshall scratched his head and took another drink. "I’m only in Detroit for a night or two, I’m not really sure yet. I do have to make my way to New York at some point this week though. Mum’s expecting me," he cringed slightly. No, his stay couldn’t be that long, his mother would be furious. 

She nodded, it was decent advice, even if she had been kidding. “A night or two is probably enough. Not that much to see here.” It was true, Phoenix was just too used to the town to move. “Is she looking forward to your visit?” She thought she saw him cringe for a second, but it could have just been the bright sunlight reflecting in his eyes. Crossing and uncrossing her legs she added, “Are you in school in Manchester?” Phoenix was a curious person, and thought he wouldn’t mind that question.

"Uh, no I’m working in a grocery store, that’s about it," he shifted his jaw forward. He’d forgotten how forward American’s were. It was then that Marshall decided that he had possibly been living in England too long. He was getting comfortable. Marshall adjusted his collar, "and of course she’s looking forward to my visit. Whose mother doesn’t like being visited from time to time," he was aware that his voice sounded a little strained. 


Cosmic || Closed

kindness-and-claws:

The first nice day had finally arrived, with the snow gone and colors beginning to flourish. He refused to sit inside, and Rosalie seemed more than happy to let him put a jacket on her to leave. Rosalie pointed and giggled as they walked, and Tom murmured back to her. It was a sight to smile at for most. 

He took them to the park, where he put a blanket down and sat under a willow tree. Rosalie pulled at the zipper to his bag and he smiled and got her stuffed rabbit out for her, which she held to her chest. Tom pulled a book out and kept an eye on Rosalie (she was pulling up daisies and clutching her rabbit). Tom glanced up as Rosalie began to wander, and he set his book up and stood as she walked over to a stranger on a bench and tried to hand him the flowers.

Tom smiled gently and picked the little girl up. “Sorry. She likes making friends.” He laughed and bounced the girl gently, making her giggle.

Marshall smiled widely as he accepted the flowers. “Thank you darling,” he extended his hand towards Tom, “I’m Marshall,” he scooted over on the bench to make room, “do you want to sit?” Marshall smelled the flowers, it wasn’t everyday he got presents from children.

Marshall pulled his leather jacket more securely around himself. It was a little chillier than he liked, but the weather in England was often chillier than he liked. 


{The Baseball Game}

phoenix-on-her-own:

your-constant-angel:

phoenix-on-her-own:

your-constant-angel:

image

 ”I do drink occasionally, mostly just Christmas, New Years, that sort of thing.” He shrugged, not really wanting to get into it. “And it’s fine, about the beer. These pants are old anyway.” Marshall made a face at her, changing the subject away from himself, “the Tigers though, really? But they’re awful. Are you from around here then? That’s really the only excuse I’ll accept. Yanks all the way!”

Not wanting to pry anymore into his habits, she snickered a bit when he said the Tigers were awful, “Really? I know we just lost our manager, but, we struck out fifty-seven batters and beat the record of fifty-five, and Cabrera got most valuable player this year!” Tapping on her knee she grinned, “Not to mention the longevity of the team.” Her smile grew a bit more, but it wasn’t cruel. “I think the Yankee’s should be worried.” Phoenix added, “I do live here though, that was a good guess! You don’t sound like you’re from town.”

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"No, I’m not actually," he grinned, "I’ve been living in Manchester recently, that’s in England. I’m from New York though. Here visiting family, heard the Yankees were playing and I couldn’t resist. It’s been a really long time since I’ve been to a baseball game." Marshall pulled a bottle of water from his backpack and took a drink. "I’ll make you a bet, ten bucks says the Yankees destroy the Tigers."

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She added. “Don’t say England too loud-” she leaned forward, a teasing grin on her face. “Apparently girls go crazy for english boys. You’ll never get out of here alive.” Laughing a bit she added, “You’re on. The Yankee’s don’t stand a chance.” She offered her hand to shake on the deal, before settling back in her seat. “How long are you in town for?”

"No, right I’d better remember that," he shook his head, faintly embarrassed. He hoped that Phoenix wasn’t hitting on him because that would definitely make things a bit awkward. It happened to him a lot, girls mistaking his friendliness for something more. He shook her hand firmly and looked to the pitch were the Tigers were up to bat. Marshall scratched his head and took another drink. "I’m only in Detroit for a night or two, I’m not really sure yet. I do have to make my way to New York at some point this week though. Mum’s expecting me," he cringed slightly. No, his stay couldn’t be that long, his mother would be furious. 


poppunksuperstar:

omfg I was walking home from the bus stop and I saw this elderly couple where this woman was pushing her husband in a wheelchair and I was like “aw that’s cute” but as I got closer to them I heard them talking and she was like “you’re a huge asshole, tom” and he was like “JUST PUSH ME INTO A DITCH”



{The Baseball Game}

phoenix-on-her-own:

your-constant-angel:

image

 ”I do drink occasionally, mostly just Christmas, New Years, that sort of thing.” He shrugged, not really wanting to get into it. “And it’s fine, about the beer. These pants are old anyway.” Marshall made a face at her, changing the subject away from himself, “the Tigers though, really? But they’re awful. Are you from around here then? That’s really the only excuse I’ll accept. Yanks all the way!”

Not wanting to pry anymore into his habits, she snickered a bit when he said the Tigers were awful, “Really? I know we just lost our manager, but, we struck out fifty-seven batters and beat the record of fifty-five, and Cabrera got most valuable player this year!” Tapping on her knee she grinned, “Not to mention the longevity of the team.” Her smile grew a bit more, but it wasn’t cruel. “I think the Yankee’s should be worried.” Phoenix added, “I do live here though, that was a good guess! You don’t sound like you’re from town.”

"No, I’m not actually," he grinned, "I’ve been living in Manchester recently, that’s in England. I’m from New York though. Here visiting family, heard the Yankees were playing and I couldn’t resist. It’s been a really long time since I’ve been to a baseball game." Marshall pulled a bottle of water from his backpack and took a drink. "I’ll make you a bet, ten bucks says the Yankees destroy the Tigers."



Shelter from the Storm

Marshall had stripped off his shirt to reveal his muscular body. He was wringing it out when he turned to see a woman standing behind him. A small shout of surprise escaped him and he clutched the damp shirt to his chest. It occured to him, a few moments later, to pull the shirt back on. He did, cringing as the wet material stuck to his chest.

A warm breeze blew. It was a mild day and he was taking shelter under a wooden awning. There wasn’t anywhere he needed to be, so it was nice to just watch the rain. 

"Uh hello. Are you hiding from the rain too?"


{The Baseball Game}

phoenix-on-her-own:

your-constant-angel:


image

"No thank you Phoenix, I don’t drink," Marshall scrubbed at his pants with the napkins, at least none of it had gotten on his shirt. White linen and beer didn’t mix. It wasn’t too noticeable on the dark denim of his jeans though. "I’m Marshall and really, before I decide whether to forgive you or not, I have to know; Are you cheering for the Tigers or the Yankees?" He looked over at her, still slightly smiling.

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She chuckled, “I’m cheering for the Tigers.” Adding after twirling her hair around her finger for a second, “Yourself?” Phoenix noticed that the beer was mostly cleaned off of his jeans, and she felt a little bit better. “It’s nice to meet you Marshall, of course I wish we could have met sometime I didn’t dump beer all over you…” Pausing a second she added, “I’m sorry if this is rude but… you don’t drink, ever?”

 ”I do drink occasionally, mostly just Christmas, New Years, that sort of thing.” He shrugged, not really wanting to get into it. “And it’s fine, about the beer. These pants are old anyway.” Marshall made a face at her, changing the subject away from himself, “the Tigers though, really? But they’re awful. Are you from around here then? That’s really the only excuse I’ll accept. Yanks all the way!”