The name's Laurel. Child of God.

Riding Instructor and Hunter Jumper. Artist. Call the Midwife super fan.

TCM obsessed. Always hopeful of adventure.

https://mobile.twitter.com/GreetingsDr

  • this-unruly-heart:

    Back from the silence…

    Hey, it’s great to see all these little fics peppering my dash! I have TONS to catch up on and can’t wait to get a few hours to read! Thank you, Nonnatuns!

    SO GOOD

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  • Here’s my first very mediocre  attempt at writing fan fiction. Its basically pointless fluff, but who cares.

    *

      The sun had set on the city of Poplar and the Turner home glowed with warmth as the night cooled. Inside, Shelagh leaned against the doorframe of Timothy’s bedroom. She smiled as she watched her two favorite men laughing with one another. In just a matter of weeks they would all be a family. The thought gave her butterflies, and she couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across her face.

       As she observed the scene before her, she studied Patrick’s face. He sat grinning from ear to ear, with his dark hair falling across his forehead. Oh, how she loved this man. A quiet sigh escaped her lips as he joked with his son. He reached over and playfully ruffled his already tousled hair. Suddenly, he glanced over at her and said something to Timothy that she could not hear. Timothy responded with one of the sweet smiles that she had grown so very fond of, and she wondered what Patrick had said.

     With a yawn, Timothy settled back against his pillow as his father stood up next to him.

     “Goodnight, son.”

     “Night, Dad. Goodnight Shelagh.”

     Shelagh made her way over to bed and gently smoothed his hair, aware of how close Patrick was to her.

     “Goodnight, dearest.”

      Patrick switched off the lights and they both slipped out of the room. The door slowly clicked shut and they paused in the dimly lit hallway. The house was quiet, other than the sounds that came through the open window in the living room. Even from the hallway, they could hear the slightly muffled music playing from a radio somewhere along the street. Though the melody was familiar, Patrick couldn’t quite place the tune. He glanced down at Shelagh, who was already looking up at him with one of her sweet tight-lipped smiles and rosy pink cheeks. A flood of emotions past through him as he thought of how beautiful she was. She was wearing her hair down for the first time, and even though it had been hours since she’d first arrived, he still reeled at the sight of the loose golden curls that framed her face.

     “What is it?”  She asked after he had been staring for several moments.

     Patrick straightened and smiled bashfully. His gaze fell to the floor and then back up to meet her questioning expression.

     “I was just thinking that uh- well um- “

     He struggled with his nerves as he searched for the words that would adequately express how he felt.

     “Before I tucked Timothy in, I told him how pretty I think you are.”

     They had only been engaged for two short weeks, and Patrick realized that he had never really told her how much he adored her. He broke out into a shy half smile. Her rosy cheeks became even rosier and she looked down at her toes.  Her soft curls fell farther onto her shoulders and shined slightly in the dim light. She met his eyes again, and she smiled. Patrick fought the urge to take her into his arms right then and there, and kiss her like he had wanted to do for quite awhile. She was radiant, and he promised himself that he would tell her so everyday for the rest of their lives.

     When she finally spoke, it was barely a whisper.

     “Thank you, Patrick.”

                         _____________________________

      They eventually made their way back to the living room. Shelagh began clearing away the puzzle that they had finished earlier that evening. Patrick watched as she placed the box of puzzle pieces back on the shelf. She had become so familiar with their home. A giddy feeling surged in the pit of his stomach. He thought of the day when she wouldn’t have to go back to the boarding house where she was living, the day she would truly be his.

     Shelagh turned to face him once the task was complete, and smiled.

     “Why don’t we go out to the garden?” He suggested.

     Shelagh nodded her approval and led the way to the back door and down the small set of stairs. The air was chilly, and Shelagh pulled her cardigan more tightly around her. The cool breeze gently wisped the hair from their faces and carried the sound of the radio to their ears.  Patrick recognized the tune this time. It was one of his favorites, Nat King Cole’s Unforgettable. He watched Shelagh as she looked thoughtfully up at the night sky and as she swayed with the soft, slow music.

     Like a song of love that clings to me

    How the thought of you does things to me

    Never before has someone been more

    She certainly does things to me, Patrick thought as Nat King Cole’s voice lilted through the air.

     “Can you dance, Shelagh?”

     The words slipped out before he could catch them. He scolded himself for asking. He was almost certain that it had been years since she had been free to dance with anyone,  and he was right. She was startled from her reverie at the unexpected question and looked back at him.

     “What?”

     He knew he shouldn’t, and though his brain told him to dismiss the idea, he held out his hand and coaxed her to take it. The only source of light came from the windows of the house, but even in the poor lighting, he could see her tentative expression. She was nervous, terrified even, but oh how she wanted his arms around her. She had yearned for his touch for longer than she could remember. Slowly, she took his outstretched hand and he pulled her closer.

     “I’m afraid I don’t remember how.” She whispered, as her nerves slowly devoured her.

     Patrick welcomed her warmth and slipped his hand around her waist, pulling her even closer. Her other hand rested naturally on his shoulder and she trembled with the newness of it all.

     “I’ll teach you.”

     And he did. He guided her into the first step, then the next, while his eyes searched hers. Resting his cheek against her temple, he felt her warm breath on his neck. And with each slow step, they relaxed into each other’s arms, breathing in the scent of one another as they made their way around the small garden. Their movements became loose and Shelagh hummed the soft tune with the voice that gave him chills. As Patrick drew circles onto her back, Shelagh’s heart could have burst with the love she felt. She was safe in Patrick’s arms and never wanted to leave them.

     “Shelagh?” He breathed into her hair.

    "Hmm?"

    "I want you to know how much I love you."

     She pulled away to look at his face fully. Her eyes glistened through her glasses and she smiled radiantly. In that moment, she could only show him how much she loved him in return. Standing up on her tiptoes, she kissed him gently. He wrapped his other arm around her, pressing her to him. As the kiss deepened, Shelagh’s arms found his shoulders, and then his neck. For several long moments they stood, surrounded in each other’s warmth and an overwhelming feeling of contentment settled between them.

       When they pulled apart, Shelagh rested her head against his chest. With both their eyes shut, they swayed to what was left of the sweet song.

     That’s why, darling, it’s incredible

    That someone so unforgettable

    Thinks that I am unforgettable too

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  • Come on Stephen, don’t be sore.

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  • "

    Laura Main says her boyfriend cries when he watches her in Call the Midwife.

    She told The Sun newspaper: “Alice, the baby who plays [Angela], is so gorgeous. She is getting used to me now and looks pleased to see me on set which is nice.

    "It’s lovely to have a cuddle. It’s made me think I’d like to be a mum."

    "
    Don’t mind me I’ll just go sob uncontrollably in the corner over these adorable dweebs. (via asailboatinthemoonlightandyou)

    I can’t deal anymore

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  • I tried my best to draw this without crying, but I failed. I lost one of my childhood buddies this morning. 

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  • Westminster Abbey and the Ritz, Part One

    plumandfinch:

    “Since we’re having a real wedding now,” piped up Timothy from his place, comfortably propped on the couch, “don’t you need bridesmaids, Auntie Shelagh?”

    Read More

    WELL that was lovely!

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  • elizabethswardrobe:

    Laura Main at the National Lottery Awards.

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