#narrative: turnadette

[turnertimeline]

Going Dancing

Collection: Turnadette 

Year: 1960

Characters: Shelagh Turner, Trixie Franklin, Cynthia Miller, Jenny Lee 

Content Warnings: None

Rating: U

Style: Prose

Summary: Every bride needs a mother - or a very determined friend. And a proper hen do. 

A/N: We’re taking a slight detour back in time today! Trixie and Shelagh’s friendship is so important to our verse, so here’s a little about how it might have come about 

Shelagh isn’t quite sure how she got here.

Well, she knows how she gotten here, sitting rather nervously on the edge of Trixie’s bed, while the woman in question did something complicated and slightly intimidating with curlers and pins and hair spray. She’d made the short walk to the nurse’s lodgings from Patrick’s flat, having been given strict instructions on her last visit that these things took time, and prompt arrival would be strictly enforced, even if Trixie had to come out and fetch her herself.

How they had arrived at this point she was rather less certain of. She and Patrick had finally set a date, with Timothy officially out of the woods and improving in leaps and bounds every day, and she’d arrived after clinic to give Sister Julienne the happy news. Over the next few weeks, Shelagh had slowly spent more and more time around her old friend, first in chapel when she felt able and later stopping by for dinner or lunch. And Trixie had begun turning up at the boarding house - or, more often, at Patrick’s door - to take her shopping, or to lunch, or merely to sit in the lounge with her over tea and biscuits.

Later Shelagh would learn that Trixie had been distraught to have failed her friend so thoroughly, and that Trixie’s loyalty, once won, was a deep and brightly burning thing.

At which point Trixie had discovered that neither Patrick nor Shelagh were intending to have premarital parties, Shelagh had been doing her dress shopping alone, and that she was increasingly anxious about how she would look as she walked down the aisle. And felt that she had nowhere to turn and no-one to ask for help.

The dress had been purchased over three shopping trips, guided by Trixie’s endless patience and encouragement, tailored to her exacting standards. Trixie had also warded off the meddling and sanctimonious sales assistant with practiced ease, for which Shelagh was profoundly grateful. Nothing she had tried on until that moment - nothing she had worn at all, really - had made her feel as much like herself as the wedding dress had, both of them pretending the other wasn’t crying. The hair and makeup, too, had been settled in a series of nights off in Trixie’s bedroom or at the dining room table, ideas tried, dismissed and vetoed, often with a glass of something from Trixie’s night stand and the moderating influences of Cynthia and Jenny to guide them.

Which had finally led them here, to Trixie’s bedroom again. The girls had insisted they couldn’t possibly let her get married without a proper send off, and so it had been arranged. Patrick and Timothy were off to the cinema for the evening and likely fish and chips for dinner. And Shelagh was here, getting ready to go dancing with the girls.

After so long spent looking in at the door, it felt strange to be in the middle of it, to not have to wave them off from the doorway and pretend she wasn’t longing to go with them.

“There!” Trixie finally announced, with a final flourish with the hair lacquer. “Give us a twirl, sweetie!”

Shelagh stood, and gave a self-conscious spin, feeling flushed and embarrassed but pleased too. The skirt was fuller than she was used to, and moved with her when she spun or walked, and her shoulders were bare. At least her shoes were her own - makeup, dress, accessories and handbag borrowed from Jenny and Trixie - and she felt sure of her footing, despite the strangeness of her clothes and the loose curl of her hair, brushing her shoulders.

Glancing around and checking her lipstick one last time in the mirror, Trixie declared them all ready and took Shelagh’s hand, pulling her out into the corridor and then tucking her arm through hers as they descended into the sharp evening air.

[nunonabun]

@shelaghturnovaturner asked: Turnadette 44? Have loved reading these shorts - brilliant!

#44 …out of lust.

This one’s straight smut, so I’ve shielded your eyes with a cut.

The warm light of the summer afternoon drew out the gold of the waves that tumbled down Shelagh’s neck. Patrick’s fingers recalled the softness of them, their alluring fragrance, the rapid flutter of the pulse they curtained. His lips followed the rivers of her body to their source, resting for a while in that thunderous valley before scaling the mountains rose from it on either side. Then down to the reservoir that now frequently drew on the body’s resources, flushed and throbbing.  

His eyes followed her. She’d felt them all afternoon, hot where her clothes clung to her curves. Shelagh wondered if her joining him in getting the new surgery in order was more hindrance than help. She herself had been less efficient than normal, mind wandering as it caught on the flex of his bare forearms as he wrote and drifting to memory at the sight of his afternoon stubble, such an exciting contrast to- No, this would not do. She resolved to bring it up with him that evening, in a more appropriate locale. For now, she turned to the boxes of patient files, narrowing her mind to the task at hand.

The dark blue fabric stretched tight over her arse, drawing his attention with memories of the firm press of it in the cradle of his hips as he took her frantically, mouths pressed to hands and clothes to muffle their cries.

Shelagh heard a breathless laugh behind her. Upon reflection, bending over may not have been such a good idea.

“You’re doing that on purpose.” He accused, eyes dark but mirthful as he leaned back in his chair.

Shelagh turned to him, eyebrows arched. “I most certainly am not. I wouldn’t... tempt you in a professional environment, Patrick.”

Though she’d become more comfortable expressing her sexuality, she was slightly uneasy being so explicit about his suggestion in his surgery.

He looked slightly abashed. “I’m sorry, I know you want to keep our private life private, and I’m more than happy with that. My mind is just having some difficulty obeying what I tell it to do.”

Shelagh’s thumb unconsciously rubbed her right ring finger, though it had been bare for months now. “Obedience was often a struggle for me when combined with some of my other vows. Especially in my last year.”

Patrick grinned wolfishly. “Oh, don’t worry, my thoughts are perfectly in line with my vows.” She studied him. He looked quite rakish, his craggy face half-shadowed by the flop of his hair.

A wrinkle of curiosity added itself to his brow. “How do you do you get your mind to obey you? Do I have so little an effect on you?”

Shelagh frowned, affronted, and went to perch on his desk. “Patrick, that’s not true, I’m just better at controlling myself. I’ve had to be. It wouldn’t do to be dwelling on our more earthly desires during Lauds, for example.”

“What intruded on Lauds that you had to keep under wraps?” His voice was lower, slightly rough in a way that had quickly become familiar to her in these first few months of marriage. Would it be so wrong to go into it here? It was impossible to separate life into neat little boxes, experiences couldn’t help but meet one another, one running into the next just as the surgery extended up to their flat.

“Dreams I had been woken from, concerning a certain doctor.” Her voice had changed slightly, a low, teasing note breaking down her reserve.

He met her in kind. “You dreamt about me?”

“Nuns are still human, only more strictly governed ones.” She flushed slightly, as though revealing something she ought to have kept secret. But he knew well how human nuns were. Certainly he’d know it in a professional capacity, and he’d become very familiar with it in his personal life.

He held her gaze, seeking to maintain this enticing candour. “What did you dream?”

“I can’t tell you here.” Shelagh’s voice was mildly scandalized. He would have stopped if he’d felt she was uncomfortable, if he’d overstepped a boundary, but her propriety didn’t stop her from enjoying the eroticism of engaging in the personal within a professional space. Her pupils were dilated and he could see in her eyes all of the feeling professionalism denied her.

“Can’t you? Would bringing it into the bedroom be any more appropriate?” It was a genuine question, leading though it was.

“Well, the bedroom was where the... fantasies... took place, in my mind and out. Granted, the bedroom I laid in wasn’t the one I imagined...” She trailed off, curiosity sparking in her gaze.

“Did you have dreams like that? About me, as I was then?”

Patrick took a deep breath, he had been wary of admitting the things he’d thought and dreamed about Sister Bernadette, even though she was now his wife.

He spoke slowly, carefully. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or to,” he gestured vaguely, “disrespect your memory.”

His voice rose on the last word, making his statement almost a question. He ran a hand through his hair, unsure of how to express the respect he wanted to assure her he had for the different phases of her life.

Unexpectedly she leaded down, kissing him urgently. He wasted no time in responding, running a hand up her thigh as she parted his lips.

Shelagh pulled back abruptly, her eyes as sharp and focussed as his thoughts were muddled.

“Is it exciting to you, to think of me as a religious sister, knowing me as you do now?” She thrust her notions of neatly delineated feelings and actions away, frustrated by the grip those rules still had on her.

“Yes,” he breathed, reticence gone in a wash of desire. He tried to pull her back, to lose himself in her once more, but she titled her chin back at the last moment. He closed his eyes, rubbing his nose over hers, entreating her to come closer.

“What would you be thinking now, if I were still Sister Bernadette, and we were in the parish kitchen, uninterrupted.” She murmured, her breath hot on his parted lips.

Shelagh hadn’t quite realized she wanted this, to make past desires flesh, to act out what she’d so vividly imagined all of those torturous months ago.

The corner of his mouth turned up, wising to her game.

“I would be thinking that I want to push up that heavy habit of yours and feel your lovely legs.” She swung her legs over to the other side of the desk, shoes resting on the chair beside his thighs, allowing his hands to mirror his words.

“I would be imagining undoing your stockings,” he did so, tantalizingly slowly, trailing his fingers up the skin he revealed. He bent to place a teasing kiss on her inner thigh before standing to continue uncovering her.

“I was greedy, I wouldn’t stop until I could see all of you, touch all of you.” He slid a strong hand around her waist, leaning her back as he kissed her once more.

She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him flush with her naked arousal.

He gasped, and she picked up the narrative. “I would want to feel you against me, properly, without your coat,” she pushed it off his shoulders, “and I hardly think your tie would be appropriate in this situation.” She freed him of his tie, shirt and vest with impatient fingers.

He hummed in amusement and nibbled at her ear. “Certainly not.”

Her breath was coming in short pants, her head spinning as his clever fingers found her sensitive folds, and the delicate bud at their apex.

She leaned back for a moment, twining her hands in his hair and kissing him deeply as she revelled in his attentions.

He bit her lip, drawing her back to their play.

“I would still be curious about the doctor’s anatomy. I would be shy, but feeling it against my leg,” he pressed against her obligingly, “I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back.”

“God, I want want you.” He groaned as she unzipped his trousers and cupped him in her hand, stroking him firmly through the cotton of his underpants. He got rid of those impediments hastily, returning his hands to her hips to pull her close.

She let out a guttural cry as he thrust into her. Their kisses were frantic and sloppy, rushed, as though they might be discovered at any minute.

“Sister, oh, please yes,” he gasped out endearments and entreaties as she rocked forcefully against him, one hand gripping his arse. He was shocked by the passion her habit concealed and he didn’t want this to end. They couldn’t burn long, by god did they burn bright.

His hand was hot on her hip, thumb stroking over its hard ridge as he pounded into her. Ecstasy lit every nerve ending and she abandoned herself to it, clasping the doctor she didn’t dare think of as hers close as her body burst into flame.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, muscles snapping and jerking back to attention as euphoria overtook him.

They came down slowly, limbs weak with pleasure. He looked to her, fleetingly worried she might regret this, but she met his gaze with clear-eyed satisfaction and he felt a lightness settle in his chest. There was no shame between them, nothing they couldn’t explore together so long as they wanted to.

[thatginchygal]

L and M for the fic meme!

For the Fic Meme!  Thanks for the ask!  🥰

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Many, many times.  LOL  I re-read as I write, re-write as I read, read the story aloud to myself, make corrections on what doesn’t ‘sound correct’, have betas look over it, make changes based on their comments, and then do one more read through before posting. And STILL (here and there) I miss typos and the like!  Many years ago, I was able to re-read once and even sometimes post without a beta…. But I find I cannot do that now. I must have someone look at it before I post, just for my peace of mind!  

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

Oh my gosh.  Let’s see.   For Turnadette, I have several paragraphs written on what will become ‘formal wear smut’. I also have a doc full of partial ideas for them!  The two I’m most keen on writing include a ‘Coming Home’ interlude that will probably be rated M and idea for a ‘he said/she said’ type of fic.  I love, love, love that type of narrative and would love to see Turnadette each having a side to some story (I just need to think of what that story is!).  

For Luke and Mara, I still have ideas!  I have a 25k bit of a story where the couple is ‘on the run’.  I also have bits and pieces of a Luke and Leia switch story, in which Prince Organa meets Farmgirl Leia Skywalker (and eventually Mara Jade).   That one will probably never be completed but I do have several one-shots written in that ‘universe’ that I might one day share.   I also have several paragraphs written on a CtM/SW (Okay, main characters being Turnadette and Luke/Mara, of course!) crossover—yes, I know, but dang it, I think I could really do it!!  

In terms of original writing, I have many bits and pieces and chapters and nano projects hanging around, but what I’d really love to write is a family saga.  Stay tuned!!  

[snoopctm]

Turnadette Tuesday

Timeline–Episode 7x05

Waiting

Or “Maybe We Need Two Cars”! Short scene this week, but it makes me think. More thoughts follow:

So, this scene is here for a narrative reason, but it also tells me something else. First, the narrative explanation–

In the last scene the Turners appeared in together in this episode, they were talking to Lucille about her patient of the week, Mrs Dobson. Also, if you’ve watched this episode before you know that both Turners, and especially Shelagh, will eventually play a part along with Lucille in Mrs Dobson’s delivery. In this scene, that case isn’t mentioned, but again we’re seeing the Turners interacting with Lucille, as they drive up to Nonnatus and Shelagh runs in to deliver insulin while Patrick waits for her, looking at his watch and telling Lucille how he needs to call the health board about the suspected smallpox case.  What this scene does in terms of the episode’s story is keep the idea in mind of the Turners in relation to Lucille–not just Patrick but Shelagh as well, since Shelagh will later invite herself along to help on the Dobson delivery. Keeping the idea in mind that the Turners have a good rapport with Lucille (who is new and we haven’t seen the Turners interacting with a lot before this episode) makes their later participation in the birth scene make more sense, especially with Lucille’s consulting Shelagh (and Patrick joining in the conversation) about her case in the earlier scene. 

That’s the narrative purpose for this scene, I think, but something else that stands out to me about it is an idea (whether it’s intentional or not) that Shelagh’s being dependent on Patrick for rides everywhere kind of limits them somewhat. Even if Shelagh could drive (we don’t know for sure that she can’t, but it’s been implied), they only have one car so only one of them could use it at a time. Maybe it’s time they got a second car. I have mentioned before about the speculation that they could be getting a new one, but if they did, it would be nice if they kept the MG and Shelagh learned to drive (if she doesn’t know how already) so she wouldn’t be as dependent on Patrick for rides (although if she does return to full-time midwifery, she could be riding a bike as well). The show has shown the Turners on a trajectory of upward mobility in a financial/social sense, with fancier wardrobes and a bigger, more modern house, so becoming a two-car family could be another step in that process. It’s an idea, anyway.

That’s all for this week. Next week, more from episode 7x05!

[thestraggletag]

hey straggle random question but what tv show/movie is that ship from that you last reblogged?

That ship (Turnadette) is from Call the Midwife, a must see if there was ever one (it’s on Netflix, if you have it). He is an older, dedicated widowed doctor with a young son. She’s an experience albeit young nurse/midwife/NUN. It’s “widowed silver fox falls for quiet, compassionate young Scottish nun and it’s AWESOME. I mean, you get stuff like this:

And later this:

And this:

And a bona fide, I-fuck-you-not scene where Shelagh dresses as a nurse for the first time (she used to practice medicine in her habit) and Patrick has an honest-to-God “I just discovered a new kink I didn’t know I had” moment when he sees her. 

Also the narrative makes it clear that Shelagh was unhappy with nunhood way before she acknowledged her feelings for the good doctor and Timothy, the doctor’s son, is heavily involved in the whole “let us all become a family” process. Shelagh genuinely loves him and feels like his mother and he in return also loves her and encourages their whole courtship, the marriage and beyond. Timothy is the best.

So, in short, watch it.

WATCH. IT.

[ofhouseadama]

The Case for Turner Twins written in small font because if it’s small and I’m wrong no one will have seen it also special shout out to Lauren for boarding this crazy train with me »  this season is mining all the best of the Turnadette parallels, heavy on the season 2 feels. what did we get in season 2? the twin birth and the officer and the sergeant moment which solidified that the narrative had bought us Sister Bernadette a one-way ticket out of the convent »  women 35 and older are 200% more likely to have twins than women under 35 »  bleeding is common in twin pregnancies »  early narrative attention to sex of baby indicates a possible “one of each” narrative solution »  they’re moving out of the flat into a (presumably) bigger house. if it was one baby, they could just share with Angela until Tim moves out, regardless of sex. twins makes that scenario a little trickier.  »  Heidi has indicated interest in someone going on the pill. a working mother of four is likely to go onto the pill to avoid having to give up her career and sanity, especially if the twin pregnancy and delivery was complicated.  » Heidi Thomas fucking loves her shenanigans  do I think zomg its twins?!?!?!!?? no but I do think there is some foreshadowing present that it’s twins

[turnertimeline]

Prompt Fill:: First Impressions

Shelagh and Patrick from Granny Parker’s viewpoint. Requested by @nunonabun /a>​

She’d met Sister Bernadette a handful of times, when she’d been asked to pick Timothy up when Patrick was running late. But she was not entirely prepared to meet Shelagh Mannion. Not that she took any issue with her former son in law getting married again, just the opposite.

She worries about Patrick, a lot.

Is mildly worried that this is an idea born from loneliness. But all thoughts of that disappear the moment Patrick leads Shelagh into Elizabeth’s home. Loneliness and being shown some affection, for once. Patrick’s face is so like it was when he used to come and see Marianne. Nervous, hopeful, a little shy, so happy he hurt to look at. Shelagh is so nervous she’s a little wan, but is looking at both Patrick and Tim with adoration “Granny! This is Auntie Shelagh!” Tim is so excited. Elizabeth matches his smile.

“Well I should hope so, seeing as your father doesn’t often hold hands with strange women.” She teases him. Shelagh glances between them but Patrick chuckles. “That’s true, I don’t.” “Hello, Mrs Parker,” Shelagh replies, offering her hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you. Thank you for inviting me into your home.” “The pleasure is all mine dear.” Elizabeth says earnestly, shaking Shelagh’s hand. “It’s nice to officially meet the woman my boys are smitten with.”

Shelagh blushes a little. Patrick is grinning though. Elizabeth pets her hand and squeezes gently. “Come along, dear. Let’s sit comfortable. Tim, will you fetch the biscuit tin?” Elizabeth leads them through to the lounge. When Shelagh sits, she makes sure she is a respectable distance away from Patrick. Hands on her lap, ankles crossed.

Elizabeth notices, and represses a smile, even if she wishes Shelagh would relax a little Tim comes in with the biscuit tin and hands it off to his Granny before climbing up between Patrick and Shelagh “How many did you sneak?” Elizabeth asks knowingly. “Just one.” Tim mumbles. “……or two.”

Elizabeth laughs. He always reminds him so much of Marianne when he does that. It’s why she always asks him to “Just so long as you don’t ruin your dinner, young man.” “He’s got a hollow leg when it comes to biscuits.” Patrick jokes.

Tim grins, unrepentant, “I made biscuits with Auntie Shelagh yesterday.” “Someone is finally teaching you how to use the kitchen?” Elizabeth asks, voice full of mock shock. “I’ve been trying for years, only wants to like the batter spoon.” She fake whispers to Shelagh. Shelagh laugh, a smile erasing some of the shyness. “Oh, there was some help with the batter spoon.” “And the bowl. And the ones that didn’t come out perfect.” “I’m a growing boy! Shouldn’t I be eating a lot?” Tim defends himself. Shelagh knocks her shoulder against his a little. Elizabeth smiles at the exchange. She can see the comfort the two have with each other already.

Patrick is smiling indulgently. At them both, really. Conversation moves a bit easier after that. Shelagh’s not sitting quite as tensely.

Before they leave, Elizabeth snags Shelagh’s wrist to hold her back a moment while Patrick and Tim go to the car. At first Shelagh is terrified, but the kind look in Elizabeth’s eyes squashes that.

“I have not seen Patrick this happy in a long time.” her voice is quiet.

Shelagh ducks her head a little, but when she looks up she meets Elizabeth’s eyes and smiles “That’s all I want. To make both of them happy.” “Do they make /you/ happy?” “Very much so.” Shelagh’s voice is soft but sure. “That’s all I need to know.” Elizabeth gives Shelagh’s arm a squeeze. “Better hurry before Tim starts shouting.”

Shelagh smiles and laughs before joining Patrick and Tim at the car.

[turnertimeline]

Prompt Fill: ‘55: Shut up and kiss me already’

requested by @eatapinkwafer !

Now we could write about a few couples ;) But that, dear readers, would be cheating. So I gope you enjoy this Turnadette fill! As always, technically canon to Turner Timeline, set in the early months of their engagement. 

This took me a surprisingly long time to write. I started three or four times. I knew what I wanted to happen, I had the dialogue and situation in mind, it just took me a while to find the right tone to fit with the prompt! 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 

One thing Shelagh had learned in the few weeks since their engagement was that Patrick talked when he was nervous. It was something she had rarely seen - in their professional life he had always been measured and serious and kind, words carefully chosen, knowing when silence was needed. In the few moments she had seen a glimpse of something else - exhaustion, heartache, even fear - he’d been quiet and solemn, words sparsely used. 

She saw it first when they had told Timothy about their engagement, had next seen it while he prepared to petition the Board again, before an annual review of the practice. Most often, though, he seemed nervous and flustered in front of her, almost tripping over himself when he spoke to her. 

It had not been until now that she wondered if he was nervous because of her, nervous about... kissing her.

Shelagh, head tipped back to look up at him even standing on her doorstep, wondered. The ending of an entirely enjoyable night, the dark night around them, certainly seemed to suggest a kiss might be imminent. But Patrick had not made a move to do so yet, even though he had walked her home more times than Shelagh could remember. 

Looking up at him, studying his face, she saw him glance down - at her lips? - and then away just as quickly, a faint blush that could have been a trick of the light. But - he did it again, a few moments later, still talking about - something? His stories lost their thread quite often when he rambled like this, and Shelagh realised with a jolt they lost their threads when he glanced at her. 

The thought stole her breath, that he wanted to kiss her, was nervous about doing so, nervous enough to ramble and loose his train of thought... She reached out and touched his arm, can’t help her little giggle when he immediately falls silent, searching her face. 

“Patrick,” she says, a little surprised by how clear and firm her voice is in the dark. “Shut up and kiss me already.” 

For a moment, Patrick looks as startled as she feels. “Okay,” he simply replies with a grin, and cups her cheek with one hand, leaning in to press their lips together. 

He spends less time rambling on her doorstep from then on. 

[turnertimeline]

Christmas Mistletoe

Collection: Turnadette

Year: 1966

Characters: Patrick and Shelagh Turner

Content Warnings: none

Rating: T

Style: Prose

Summary: Shelagh has a plan.

Shelagh woke up before Angela and Teddy came running in to wake them. Which mildly surprised her. She often still did wake early, but over the years it had't become an everyday occurrence. Especially as she'd gotten used to running on the children's schedule and her nine to whenever-Patrick-left.

She was glad that she was up before the rest of her family though. It gave her a bit of time to pray, and to set her plan in motion. She'd bought some mistletoe from Fred and intended to hang it throughout the house. Sister Julienne was in on it, and had gotten some of the nurses to hang a few sprigs around Nonnatus for Christmas Dinner. The new nurses had been a little confused by the pile of mistletoe and the mischievous grin on the Sister’s face, but did as asked, sure that she had a reason.

Shelagh went downstairs to start preparing breakfast, and hang up the mistletoe.

And when Patrick half woke up to roll over, and found her missing, he got up to go find her.

He finds her downstairs standing on a chair tacking mistletoe to the doorway between the kitchen and dining room. Shelagh is singing quietly to herself as she works, Christmas songs and carols. He just blinks sleepily at her for a while, idly wondering what the hell his wife is doing.

"Need a hand?" He asks, voice still filled with sleep. He walks over to her as he says it just in case he startles her off the chair.

She twists around to look at him. "I've got it." She finished tacking it up and the uses his shoulder to steady her as she climbs down.

Patrick puts his hands on her hips when she's back on the floor. "What are you doing climbing on chairs so early in the morning?"

"Hanging mistletoe," Shelagh replies, winding her arms around his waist and leans into him

Patrick grins at her. "You don't need mistletoe to get a kiss from me." He kisses her nose teasingly.

Shelagh rolls her eyes at him. "It's our son who needs the help."

Patrick shakes his head fondly, grinning a little.

"What's your next plan? Hiding magnets in their clothes?"

"Hmm, not a bad idea." She smirks at him, laughing when she shakes his head again.

"But they're already attracted to each other."

Patrick hums and runs one hand through her hair. "They are."

"And I'm just trying to give them a little nudge." Shelagh shrugs as she tilts her head back a bit to look up at him better.

"A little nudge?" He raises an eyebrow at her with a grin.

"Mmhmm, just a little nudge by way of festive foliage."

"A very large nudge, maybe," but he sounds amused

"If he's anything like his father, subtlety is hardly useful." She winks at him before turning to head into the kitchen.

"Hey now!" Patrick says in mocked offense. He snags her hand and pulls her back to him.

She giggles at him and wraps her arms around his waist, her hands under the edge of his pyjama shirt.

"You have to admit it's not your strong suite."

Patrick shivers a little at her fingers on his back as they slide a little lower.

"I will do no such thing."

She tucks her fingers under the edge of his pyjama pants. "Oh? Are you sure?"

"Shelagh," his voice is low. "Mistletoe is for kissing, not whatever you're planning to do with that hand."

She winks at him. "Kissing where, though?"

Patrick tries not to groan at the idea of her on her knees in front of him in the middle of their dining room. So instead he leans down and presses a kiss to her lips. "We have children upstairs who I'm sure would not want to come down stairs and see that."

Shelagh grins, eyes twinkling, and removes her hand, smooths down his shirt and then steps away from him, walking back towards the kitchen.

[turnertimeline]

138: are you cold?

@anamarialujan requested Turnadette! 

Inspired by how often we see Patrick holed up in his car/outside when he’s upset or worried or stressed. He’s still not used to having someone there to take care of him when he comes home. I’m sorry this one is a little sad. 

I hope you enjoy! 

Patrick knew it was late - far too late, probably, especially with Teddy still being so small. But the day had been long, and hard, and grey. He hadn’t wanted to go home smelling like bleach and loss and risk the grey bleeding into the warm safety of their home, hadn’t wanted to hold his son with hands that trembled. 

It was long past midnight by the time Patrick let himself go home, the house dark and still. Patrick hung his coat and stowed his back without turning on the light, heading for the couch so as not to disturb Shelagh or the baby. When he sat, his hand hand fell on the material of a now well-worn blanket, the wool warm and a little stretched under his fingers. The familiar smell of it and the memory of Shelagh working on it, the wool spread out over their legs makes something tight and painful tighten in his chest. 

Patrick did not know how long he say there, the folded blanket under his hand, when he heard a creak on the stairs and soft footsteps down the hall. “Love?” a soft voice called, and Patrick turned to extend a hand to Shelagh, 

Shelagh took his hand and sat down, smoothing her hand through his hair. She did not ask if he was okay, and Patrick was grateful. “Are you cold?” is all she asks, and settles the blanket around his shoulders when he doesn’t reply, kissing his hair when she stands. 

“Come up to bed when you’re ready, love,” Shelagh murmurs, and squeezes his hand. “We’ll be right here.” 

Patrick listens to her pad back up the stairs, her gait familiar and comforting, their bedroom door opening and closing. Lying down, Patrick pulls the blanket closer around his shoulders, pressing his face into the wool. He still feels worn, and tired, and grey, but there is warmth and light here for him anyway. 

[turnertimeline]

Dressing is Difficult

Collection: Turnadette

Year: 1962

Characters: Shelagh Turner, Patrick Turner

Content Warnings: none

Rating: K

Style: prose

Summary:  "Your child is making it difficult for me to get dressed today." Shelagh teasingly grumbled at him.

Shelagh stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom mostly dressed but fighting with the zip on her skirt. Her blouse was buttoned properly, for the most part, a strained button around her middle, but her skirt absolutely would not zip. She huffed and stepped out of the skirt and took off the blouse. Deciding that maybe a dress would work better.

Going to the closet she stared at her options. Patrick entered the room after getting himself presentable for the day to see his wife in just her stockings, panties and a bra. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, bending a little to rest his head on her shoulder.

"Your child is making it difficult for me to get dressed today." Shelagh teasingly grumbled at him.

"I would not be opposed to you staying undressed." Patrick chuckled, kissing the side of her neck lightly. Shelagh laughed and swatted at his arm.

"My waist seems to have expanded quite a lot just over night. I've yet to find an outfit that fits." She sighed. Shelagh loved that her body was changing to accommodate her baby, but she didn't like the fuss of having to pick through clothes.  

Patrick spread his hand across her belly and Shelagh put her hand on top of his. Shelagh leaned back against Patrick's chest and they just stand there for a moment. The small bulge of her belly is so far unnoticeable by others under her clothes. But when she's undressed, there is no doubt that her body is housing a growing child.

"We're going to have to tell the children soon." Shelagh says quietly. "This little one isn't going to let us hide it much longer."

"They're going to be thrilled." Patrick assures her.

[turnertimeline]

Heartbeat

Collection: Turnadette

Year: 1962

Characters: Patrick Turner, Shelagh Turner, Timothy Turner, Angela Turner

Content Warnings: none

Rating: K

Style: Prose

Summary: A small family ritual started after Shelagh gets released from St. Cuthbert’s.

Every night had the same routine since Shelagh had been released from St Cuthbert's. Patrick made sure that he was home for bedtime at the very latest. After supper, Timothy would do his homework, Angela would be playing in the living room, and Shelagh would be sitting on the couch reading or mending something. Patrick's part of the routine changed based on how late he was running, but he was always home to read Angela a bedtime story. If he was home in time, he'd be sitting next to Shelagh reading the Lancet, his arm around his wife, hand gently rubbing the side of her belly that he could reach. Shelagh's favorite part was when Patrick would grab his stethoscope and press it to her belly.

Every night since she got home, they listened to their baby's heartbeat. Shelagh had asked do it the first night she was home. She just needed to know that their baby was still okay. It started out just being her and Patrick, and they would stay cuddled close together on their bed taking turns listening to their child's heartbeat. After a week or so Shelagh was feeling unwell and heading to bed early, and asked for the stethoscope so she could listen. She had said this before heading to the bedroom and Timothy had heard. He jumped up and begged to hear the heartbeat.

Shelagh smiled at him and sat back down on the couch and Tim sat next to her as Patrick got the stethoscope. Finding the right spot to be able to hear the baby, Patrick handed the stethoscope to Timothy who put the ends in his ears. His brows furrowed in concentration at first, looking so much like his father. And then a wide smile broke out on his face.

"That's so cool! I didn't know it would be so fast. Is that normal?" Tim said excitedly.

"The baby's heartbeat is absolutely perfect. Very strong." Shelagh reassured him.

Angela abandoned her toys on the floor and came over to the rest of the family, placing her hands on Shelagh's knees.

"Mummy?" she asked. Not sure why her Daddy and brother were crowded around her mum.

"Hello angel girl" Patrick said to Angela, running a hand over her blonde hair.

"Do you want to hear the baby in Mummy's belly?" Tim asked his sister.

Angela looked at him with a face full of confusion.  "Hear baby?"

Tim nodded and removed the stethoscope from his ears and fitted them in Angela's.

Angela's eyes grew wide as the fast whooshing filled her ears.

"Hi baby!" the girl shouted as she leaned towards Shelagh's belly. Shelagh, Tim, and Patrick laughed. Tim picked his sister up and set her on his lap.

"Baby can't talk yet but I'm sure he'd say Hi big sister Angela!" Shelagh smiled at her daughter.

[turnertimeline]

So When Are You Having More?

Collection: Turnadette

Year: 1959

Characters: Shelagh Turner, Patrick Turner, Timothy Turner

Content Warnings: infertility 

Rating: K+

Style: Prose

Summary: After finding out about the scarring, Shelagh hates that question even more. 

Shelagh gets that question after she finds out she can't get pregnant. It's a well meaning mother, who Shelagh attended during labor. And the woman has never been anything but kind. But the question hits her hard in the chest. While the mother had her little one balanced on her hip and it's a well meaning, friendly question, someone expressing excitement about her new life and trying to bond, but it's like someone kicked her in the chest. She manages to answer that they're happy, they have Timothy, etc etc... Until she's alone and then running to the nearest toilet to press a hand over her mouth and try not to cry too loudly. It hurts so much. Being reminded that there's not going to be a baby. That she's not capable of carrying a child. She loves Tim, and is so thrilled to be his mother and loves him so much. She cries again in Patrick's arms that night, when he asks how her day was. He hates seeing her cry, but is kind of glad she's showing emotion. For the longest time after the surgery, she wasn't talking about it. Or letting herself feel.

Patrick hates seeing her cry, seeing her in pain, but she seemed to have barely responded to the news, had shut down about it and it had worried him. He knows that never leads anywhere good. So he just holds her and lets her cry.

Until that point, the only time Shelagh reacted to the news was in the hospital. With sobs that brought no tears. Dry, tearless sobs that trailed off into a sort of blank silence that seemed to follow her around for days. She got a little better, expressed emotions more, but there was still something there, like a block. But now tears were coming freely and she was shaking with her sobs. Harsh, can't-breath sobs and tears.

Tim makes them tea without being asked. He brings in the tea as quietly as he can, heart in his mouth. He can hear Shelagh crying, he doesn't pry but knows his parents will tell him in time. He's *so* frightened about what might have made her cry like that. Shelagh sits up and hugs him for a while when he brings in the tea and he hugs her back and tries not to cling.

Tim has a hard time sleeping that night. And wakes up in the middle of the night to find Patrick in the living room, trying too hard to focus on the Lancet. Shelagh had finally fallen asleep.

He creeps into the living room for the first time in a while and when Patrick hears the floor creak he moves to the couch and they curl up like they used to just after his Mum died, not talking. 

Patrick quietly tells him why Shelagh was crying. He had explained to Tim about the surgery, but only in the briefest way. That the doctor had found scarring that would make it hard if not impossible for Shelagh to have a baby. Tim doesn't respond. He really doesn't know how or what to say. Tim just wraps his arms around Patrick and holds on. There isn't really anything to say.

[turnertimeline]

Family Cuddles

Collection: Turner Family

Year: multiple

Characters: Shelagh Turner, Patrick Turner, T

Content Warnings: none

Rating: K

Style: Prose

Summary: She sits on his lap even when they aren't kissing.

They'll sit in the living room watching TV or listening to the radio. And she's sideways on his lap or just has her legs over his. And Patrick wraps a hand around her ankle and brushes his thumb along the delicate bones as he reads or they talk. Just enjoying being close to her .

After they're married, his hand tends to wander up a little further than just her ankle.

But casual cuddling on the couch continues like that throughout their marriage. When Angela is small, they'll sit like that with her against Shelagh's chest. She's taken to wearing his shirts to bed more often so she can cuddle the baby against her skin with the buttons open. But the way they're sitting, her legs across his lap, has Patrick close enough to be able to put his hand on the baby's back or stroke her head. And the same thing after Teddy is born. But usually adding Angela into the mix, once Teddy's a little older and Shelagh has recovered from giving birth. Angela just wedges herself between her parents, essentially sitting on Shelagh's stomach/pelvis. Not the most comfortable thing in the world, but Shelagh wouldn't trade it for anything.

They always sit that way, for as long as they're both physically able. And the kids squeeze in wherever they can fit, Angela on her chest and then as she gets a bit bigger in Shelagh's lap or

[turnertimeline]

Dressing

Collection: Turnadette

Year: 1959

Characters: Shelagh Turner, Patrick Turner

Content Warnings: sexy times

Rating: T

Style: Prose.....but still kinda chat fic like?

Summary: Patrick is so sensitive about not looking at her too long or too much before they're married. Because he doesn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. And that just makes Shelagh love him even more. After Christmas and in the months leading up to their wedding, they both get so much more comfortable around each other. And Shelagh lets him see her with her hair down and even half dressed when she's basically living with him before the wedding. 

Patrick loves it so much. He *adores* that she's started effectively propositioning him, although she doesn't explicit ask him for a long while. But also that she's just more comfortable with herself and with him in general, with cuddling with him and touching him casually and talking about the two of them to other people and being seen in public together as a couple. She asks Trixie for sure, and also Cynthia, who's quite good at gauging the right amount of conservative to make Shelagh comfortable.

God he'd be so worried about not staring at her, and also probably a little guilty about the way he *thinks* about her sometimes, alone in bed. He doesn't want to be gross and creepy and make her uncomfortable. And it's one of the reasons Shelagh is so comfortable with him so quickly, honestly. In the months before the wedding, when they're making out like teenagers, she settles a lot then and she's actually glad the wedding got postponed (although not about why) because it makes everything better and she can properly enjoy her wedding night. She starts letting him like, help do her dresses up/down sometimes, hold her hair while she pins it in place, even help her slide her stockings on when she tweaks her back helping Tim walk.

Patrick helping her dress. Being all gentle with doing up zips and buttons, and gently brushing against her neck. And he feels soooo guilty about the way he thinks about her. But talking about how they make each other feel definitely helps Shelagh relax and be okay with the thought /she has about him/.

So, so gentle. Kneeling in front of her to slide her stockings up, although she always does the garter fastenings. Hands so gentle on her ankles and her calves and making sure he doesn't look up her skirt. Doing her buttons and zips and ties. Gently buckling her watch around her wrist. He's always so gentle and tender when he touches her, brushes his fingers against her skin. But the talking helps. (And damn if that doesn't make Patrick dizzy, thinking about her thinking about him)

When helping her he's *so* intent on not doing anything that would make her uncomfortable. But his touches are so light and gentle that she shivers when he's pulling her stockings up and kinda whines a little when he brushes the inside of her lower thigh.

Patrick takes any excuse to touch her, and she does the same with him. His morning showers tend to take longer than they normally did before, when she starts sleeping in his bed. And it makes Shelagh giggle and get a little hot under the collar knowing /why/.

Always so intent on only getting her dressed and only touching where she said it was okay. Even if when he's down on his knees in front of her he can't help but think about what he could be doing with his mouth. But his touches are always careful and although they're not strictly necessary he light and affectionate. Her whine makes him look up at her, startled, hands going still straight away. "Love?"

SO many excuses. And oh man, it makes Shelagh shiver a little, especially after he embarrasses himself why they're making out. (... now I'm thinking about *Shelagh* taking longer showers)

He *can't wait* to be on his knees in front of her with permission to do those things with his mouth.

He looks up at her and sees that her eyes have gotten a little darker, and he realizes that the noise wasn't because of him doing something wrong.

Patrick takes a deep breath and does it again, just brushes his fingers along her inner thigh, just above her knee, fascinated.

Shelagh has to try very hard to not let herself get carried away. She just wants him to keep doing that, and maybe go a little higher. 

[turnertimeline]

Blessings

Collection: Turnadette

Year: 1963

Characters: Trixie Franklin, Shelagh Turner, Patrick Turner

Content Warnings: none

Rating: T

Style: Prose

Summary: Birth control discussions

Trixie flipped through the pamphlets she had swiped from the family planning clinic. She knew the choices she had but wanted to have something physical to look at while she decided. The clinic was nearly empty, just the other nurses finishing cleaning up and leaving for rounds or to go back to Nonnatus. She tossed them down in frustration just as Shelagh was walking by on her way out with Teddy and Angela. She had stopped by near the end of the clinic hours to see her friends, and show Teddy off, and let Angela play with some of her friends from before their move.

“Those pamphlets do something to you?” Shelagh joked.

“Just by filling my brain with too many options.” Trixie sighed. “Have you and Patrick ever used contraceptives?”

Surprised by the question Shelagh stopped and adjusted Teddy in her arms as she looked at Trixie. “No, before we married we decided that we wanted children together, it only ever came up that once. And after being told that I most likely wouldn’t be able to conceive, there was no point. Which was lucky for us hmm?” She leaned down and kissed Teddy’s head.

“Christopher and I want children together, but I don’t know if I want to right away. There’s so many options, and now the pill.” Trixie sighed and picked up the pamphlets again.

“The only wrong choice is one you don’t make for yourself. Will you be alright? I need to get this little boy home before he starts screaming for his dinner.” Shelagh smiled.

“Oh of course, go go. Don’t want little mister Teddy to think he’s being starved. I’ll see you Friday evening for dinner?” Trixie smiled back and reached a hand out to brush against Teddy’s cheek.

“By Auntie Trixie, Angela said before hugging her around her legs and running to catch up with Shelagh.

“By angel girl.” Trixie called after the little girl.

**

That night after dinner when Angela was asleep, Tim was in his room, and Teddy was sleeping for the few hours before his next meal, Shelagh and Patrick were sat in the living room talking about their day. Patrick had a few patients who were giving him problems, but nothing major. Mostly just arguing with him over treatments they didn’t think were necessary. Shelagh told Patrick that she took Teddy and Angela  to the clinic, just to visit.

“Angela had fun playing with her friends for a little. I feel bad not getting her out with other children as much since we moved. But once the weather warms up a bit more, I’m sure we’ll find children around here for her to play with. Although I don’t mind going in to Poplar at all.” Shelagh loved this time of day, when it was just her and Patrick. They were making a point of having a sit down at least once a day, so that neither felt that the other was becoming too busy. Before Teddy, evening talks often ended in the bedroom. But it had barely been five weeks since the little boy joined their family, and Shelagh had not yet been medically cleared to resume that sort of activity.

“I bet that was nice for her.” Patrick smiled. “I know that she’s been rather lonely since the move, not having children her age around as much as she did in Poplar.” Patrick stood to start clearing away the empty tea cups on the table.

“Yes. Although it’s coming out more as Mr. Bunny is lonely.” Shelagh laughed. Angela had told her that Mr. Bunny missed friends and wanted to go play with them. That’s what had sparked her to plan the trip into the clinic. “Mummy is feeling lonely as well. I do miss seeing the girls and the sisters as frequently. But the reason soothes that.” Shelagh stood and joined Patrick in the kitchen as he rinsed out the cups. “I did get to talk with Trixie for a little today though, which was nice. She and Christopher will be joining us for dinner Friday.”

“Wonderful, I’ll do what I can to make sure I’m home.” Patrick enjoyed having them both over. Trixie had become part of their family, and Christopher by extension. “What did you and Trixie have a talk about? Or do I not want to know?” He knew that their conversations, which often ended with both women in a fit of giggles sometimes included topics he’d really rather not want to know about.

“She was looking through pamphlets from family planning. Having a difficult time deciding which option would be best. Asked if we have ever used contraceptives.” Shelagh grabbed a drying cloth for the cups and put them away once dry. “And since we haven’t, I wasn’t really able to give her much advice.”

Patrick wiped down the counter around the sink. “Maybe we should look into it too. Now that we know that you can get pregnant.”

Shelagh nearly dropped the towel she was holding. “What?” Thoughts started racing through her mind faster than she could keep up with them.

“It’s not something we have to decide now, you’re still recovering from giving birth. But it wouldn’t be a bad idea moving forward.” Patrick finished and finally looked at Shelagh, no seeing the hurt look across her face.

“Not a bad idea?” Shelagh could hardly believe what she was hearing. “Patrick, we’ve never used anything, even before finding out about the scarring. Why would it be any different now?”

“Shelagh,” Patrick said softly, not wanting to start a row.

Tears were already filling her eyes. How could he want her to do something to prevent a pregnancy? Remove any hope of being given another miracle? Unless…..the thought struck her and set the first tear rolling down her cheek. Unless he didn’t want another child.

Patrick knows her, knows where her thoughts took her so he takes her hands in his and pulls her closer to him. "Shelagh, it is not a question of not wanting another child. So many things can go wro-" "So many things could have gone wrong the first time Patrick!" Ice is lacing Shelagh's voices and she pulls her hands from his. "We see it every day, things go wrong even for women without the scarring I have. And things very nearly did go wrong we almost lost him! But even when I was in the hospital praying that my body was a safe enough place for our baby I was so thankful that I was even getting to experience being pregnant. Even facing the possibility of losing him I was so in love with our child and saw him as the miracle he is." By now, Shelagh is pacing in front of him, wringing the towel in her hands. Patrick runs his hands over his face, trying not to get frustrated. "Shelagh."

"There is no guarantee that we will even be blessed a second time. But I cannot bring myself to do anything that could stop us from being given another miracle." Shelagh kept going, not wanting their conversation to end because he was frustrated and not finding the words he wanted. Patrick's hands fell to his sides and he tried not to clench his fists. "And I can't bring bring myself to do anything that could make me lose you!"   Shelagh stops, and turns to look at him. Seeing now the fear under the frustration that caused him to shout. The possibility of complications taking her life hadn’t crossed her mind, just the idea of preventing what she saw as a miracle. She’d give her life for their child, if it came down to that, and Patrick knew it. But that was not something that even came into her thoughts during this conversation. The fear of not just losing a child, but losing her in the process was written across his face. "Patrick." She walks back over to him, but not taking his hands in hers. She doesn't know what to say to him. She takes one of his hands and places it on her chest, over her heart. "I am right here. Our son is asleep upstairs, and we are both more than alright."   Patrick takes a breath and realises it’s a little shaky. He hadn’t noticed that his hands are quaking too, until she held one still against her. It feels like everything is unraveling in his grasp. "I cannot make any promises for the future. Neither of us can Patrick. But I do not believe the Lord brought us together for me to be taken from you the same way your first wife was." Her hand leaves his, which stays above her heart, and she places hers on his cheek.   He leans into her touch and closes his eyes and then turns to kiss her palm softly. "I'm just... so frightened, and I don't have the faith you have. The thought of losing you, or losing a baby. can't--not again." Tears are threatening to fall. "Patrick...Darling, I have more than enough faith for the both of us."   Patrick laughs, his voice quiet and a little wet. "I've always known that, love." He puts his hand over his on his cheek gently, in case she pulls away from him again Shelagh stands up on her toes and presses a soft kiss to his lips. "Then place your worries with me, and I will place them with the Lord."   Patrick kisses him back gently and presses their foreheads together with a heavy sigh. "Okay. I - can I go and check on Teddy?" "You never have to ask to check on your son."   Patrick nods and kisses her hair gently He makes his way upstairs and to Teddy's bassinet. The tiny boy is asleep, his hands up by his head. Patrick doesn't want to wake him, but needs to touch him. Reaching out he places his hand softly on Teddy's tummy.   Teddy barely stirs in his sleep but Patrick can feel the rise and fall of his chest, count his tiny, steady breaths, feels the warms of him under his palm Shelagh slips into the room, and walking up to him she wraps her arms around him from behind him and rests her head in the middle of his back. "He really is a miracle." Patrick said quietly, his  thumb rubbing Teddy's chest.   "Our miracle," Shelagh murmurs softly and tightens her arms around Patrick gently "Another would be just as miraculous." Patrick nearly whispered. "But what if-" "What ifs cannot rule our lives Patrick. I just know that the thought of not having this breaks my heart. And the thought of actively stopping it from happening does the same." Shelagh moves to stand next to him, placing her hand on top of his on the baby.

Patrick links their fingers some and is quiet, just watching, for a while "Okay."   "Okay?"   "Yes. Okay as in we'll not do anything to prevent a pregnancy."   Shelagh moved from beside him to see his face. "Patrick?"   Patrick turned to look at down at her. "I will never not be afraid."

"I was terrified when I found out we were expecting Teddy. That was the first thing I said to Sister Julienne after telling her I was pregnant." Shelagh bent to slip under his arm and nestle against his chest. Patrick wrapped his arms around her tightly. "You never told me that." "And the first thing out of her mouth was that she was not afraid. It was her faith that let me be happy, and give me the courage to tell you." Shelagh sighed and turned her face into Patrick's chest, inhaling his scent. "The fear never went away. And then, when we almost lost him? But Patrick, feeling him move inside of me, and then holding him for the first time, all of that fear was worth it.” "I know, love. I know. The first time I heard his cry...It was worth it for me, too." "I want the possibility of that again, Patrick." "I know you do. I do, too, honestly. I just..." "I know my love." They stand there like that for a while, just holding each other. "Any child we are blessed with would be another miracle." Patrick presses a kiss to the top of Shelagh's head.