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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Down with the Recipe, Bake from the Heart, 1/10 (Multi) - Juno

Summary: This year’s Great British Bake Off will see some baking for sure, but also a few surprises. Tayce goes into the Bake Off tent determined to bring the winning cake stand to Wales, along with a few Star Baker badges, but her attention may not be on baking for too long as she gets to know fellow baker Aurora, on the same row as her. And judging by the other contestants, Tayce might not be the only one focusing on something other than baking this season.

A/N: This is a DRUK2 group based on GBBO - there are a few ships! It’s also on AO3 with 12 chapters but I will post here with 10 for ease as the first two and last two will are being done together. No CWs for this chapter! I hope you enjoy.

PROLOGUE - October 2021

It had been Cheryl who had suggested a live react to the grand finale of this season of Bake Off, so the twelve finalists could all gather together, watch the finale, and then the winner’s reaction could be captured on film and put on the internet for the whole world to see. Cheryl hadn’t even been in the cast - she’d been on the previous season - but she said she’d become invested in the season and the bakers so much so that she hadn’t wanted to let them go yet.

And judging by the public’s reaction to her tweet about it, she wasn’t alone.

Pip had mentioned in their group chat that her sister had a big town house in the Wirral, and she’d offered to let them all use it as a base for their live watch. Channel 4 didn’t have anything purpose-built for them, and the filming location wasn’t available, so they’d all jumped at the chance. Plus, Liverpool served as a good mid-point for them all - it saved Joe having to go all the way to Dundee or Ellie having to go to Brighton.

Aurora had marvelled at the amount of space there was once they’d all arrived the previous day. The living room and dining area were one, with a dining table probably big enough to fit a couple of football teams at it; and the kitchen led into the room with an arched doorway. The kitchen itself was enormous too, in highly polished white surfaces that Aurora was terrified to touch with her probably-impure fingers

“Bit posh, isn’t it!” She’d muttered to Tayce.

Pip’s sister and her husband were staying away, and they had the place all to themselves - the twelve of them reunited, with just Blu and Cheryl for company, operating a handheld camera with the intention of sending the finale footage for Channel 4.

As three endings had been recorded back in June, with each of the finalists winning one of the takes, the actual winner’s reveal would be a surprise to all of them, including the three finalists, and ensure no slip ups from the production team.

That didn’t stop all twelve of them worrying. None of them had slept a wink, all of them keeping an eye on Prue’s twitter to make sure she hadn’t accidentally tweeted the winner again. But mostly they’d been together, reminiscing on some of the moments from the season that had made them laugh. All the funny moments, all the tense moments, and one or two viral moments loaded with innuendo.

Not to mention everything else that had blossomed in tandem with nature that springtime.

It had been quite a season. They’d started out as strangers, and now they were so tightly-knit that they hadn’t even entertained the thought that they would possibly be watching the finale without all of them in the same space.

Aurora swilled the glass of champagne that Joe had insisted on pouring for everyone, and watched all of the people she’d grown close to on the season, a peaceful atmosphere in the room as they waited for the finale to start.

Well, not all of them were peaceful. Lawrence and Ellie were being their usual loud selves, jousting with wooden spoons and shrieking as loudly as they ever did - but Bimini was utterly still for the first time since Aurora had met them, laid against Asttina’s chest as they both reclined on one of the sofas, while Asttina raked her fingers through their mullet; and Bimini’s eyes were closed, their lips in a sleepy smile.

Aurora felt familiar hands creep around her waist, a familiar chin rest on her shoulder from behind, and familiar lips at her cheek.

“I can’t believe it’s coming to an end now,” Aurora murmured, her thoughts escaping her unfiltered, as they sometimes did with Tayce at this close range.

“Well, it was never gonna be forever,” Tayce said into her ear. “But we’re all gonna be friends after this, aren’t we! The wonders of technology! Come into the twenty-first century, Rory. We have this thing called the internet, and group chats, and phones -”

“We’re not all just gonna be friends, though, are we?” Aurora replied.

“We’re all just besties, nothing more than that. Rory, I’m joking!” Tayce laughed at Aurora’s horrified expression. “All I’m saying is that this isn’t the end - just the beginning.”

“That’s so cheesy.”

“Yeah, but I’m right, you can’t deny that!”

Aurora let her eyes drift around everyone else in the room.

Tia and Veronica who had barely left their corner of the sofa, hands and legs wound tightly together, both with hearts in their eyes and bigger smiles than anyone else in the room as they chatted quietly, simply enjoying each others’ company.

Lawrence and Ellie, wooden spoons still in hand, making the most noise in the room in delighted laughter as they jousted with each other, almost knocking Pip over as she carried in another tray of snacks to lay on the dining table.

Bimini resting against Asttina’s chest as they reclined on the other sofa, Asttina still running her fingers through Bimini’s freshly-dyed mullet, both of them letting out a contented sigh in tandem.

“Yeah,” Aurora murmured, as Tayce held her tighter, “I guess so.”

——

WEEK 1: BISCUIT WEEK

April 2021

Tayce grinned at the cameras as they panned around everyone. She’d given the interviewer her spiel about how much she’d always dreamt of being in the gingham tent and how excited she was to bring the winning cake stand to Wales for the first time in Bake Off history; and a surprising calm settled in her chest, nerves dissipating, at the genuine warm aura from everyone and everything in the room.

At least Tayce wasn’t in full view of the judges right at the front. That privilege was reserved for two people from London, both of whom looked right at home in front of the cameras, although their names were a mystery for now.

It was all very familiar from seeing it on the telly the last eleven years. Immaculate worktops with varnish that shone like glass; the tent walls decorated with bunting and flowers, and the pastel shelves and adorned with china cups; the multi-coloured KitchenAids ready to whisk, fold and anything else - Tayce’s was pure white, while the woman from Nottingham on the bench opposite her had a turquoise one.

Tayce chanced another glance at her; the tight-lipped smile showed a single dimple, and her long blonde hair was tied off her face, but her fingers drummed nervously on the workbench, and she evidently wasn’t as poised as the veneer she displayed for the cameras.

Tayce smiled to herself. It’ll be fun winning this thing.

——

Signature: 24 Iced Biscuits

The best bit of the show when it was on the telly was the banter between Matt and Noel. Seeing them in person, even from a distance away, made Tayce’s stomach bubble with excitement, and she had to cling to the workbench a little tighter to stay upright.

“Well, bakers, welcome to the gingham tent! Back for another season of Prue-Paul’s Baking Race!”

Prue’s sweet smile was complemented by her brightly-coloured glasses and sharp, matching blazer, while Paul’s cool stare lingered on everyone in the room a split second longer than they all would have liked.

“For the signature today,” Matt said, “the judges would like you to make twenty-four iced biscuits. The biscuits can be any flavour -“

“ - but should tell the judges a little bit about yourselves or where you’re from.”

“Where are you from, Noel?”

“Oh, you know, the moon.”

Everyone was laughing, even Tayce; although it wasn’t that funny - but the whole room was dancing with nerves by now, starting to become contagious from the people around her.

“On your marks -“

“Get set -“

“BAKE!”

Once Matt Lucas and Noel Fielding had declared the immortal lines to the room, everyone was scrambling for ingredients from their bags and the fridges.

Tayce was still cringing a bit at the dragon-shaped cookie-cutter her mum had found in some gift shop near the castle in Cardiff. She didn’t understand why tourists would be making dragon-shaped biscuits inspired by their trip to Wales, but for once she was thankful for tourists. Her friend Cara had customised it a little when she’d seen her a couple of weeks ago, by melting the tail with her lighter, elongating it a little, and extending the jaw and ears to make it look a little more ferocious.

“Can’t have people thinking you’re not breathing fire,” she’d said, passing the cigarette back to Tayce, “otherwise they won’t think you’re competition.”

And Tayce had nodded, holding smoke in her lungs half a beat longer than usual, wondering if she cared whether anyone thought of her as competition. After all, it was Bake Off. The last sabotage attempt there had been a national scandal the following day.

The most unproblematic, drama-free show on the telly.

Nothing was going to happen here.

——

“The judges are coming for you next,” one of the cameramen nudged Tayce out of her thoughts, just as she was measuring out her flour, causing it to fly upwards in a cloud “Just a heads up. Oh, sorry love.”

“Right, right.” Tayce nodded, brushing flour from her face. “What do I say to them again?”

“Just … talk. It’s the first episode. Show them your personality.”

“Personality,” Tayce repeated, nodding. “I’ve got oodles of that.”

“Great stuff. And don’t forget to be doing something bake-ey while they’re coming over.”

The cameraman dodged out of the way to make room for the medical team, running to help the woman in front of Nottingham, who had managed to slice her finger on something already.

“Here they are,” Tayce muttered to herself, taking a deep breath and straightening as the judges, along with Matt and Noel, came over to her.

“Morning, Tayce!”

Paul Hollywood was shorter than he appeared to be, and Prue Leith was taller, but nothing prepared Tayce for meeting either of them. Tayce held her breath for a split second, smiling somewhat mechanically to try to mask the sudden heat in her face.

“Bore da, folks! I’ve brought the weather with me!” Tayce beamed, indicating the heaving downpour of rain that was falling outside the tent; and they all laughed politely.

Tayce momentarily stopped concentrating on the judges and noticed the woman opposite her, turning to watch Tayce interact with the judges. And every time she was describing the perfect quality that her dragon-shaped shortbread biscuits would turn out, she seemed to slow her actions, looking up over at them.

The conversation was light, but Tayce could feel the calm authority of both judges before her, making words freeze on her tongue. It only went on for a minute or two, but Tayce was left feeling as if she should have prepared more.

Oh well. What’s done is done.

The ingredients for her biscuits were mixing slowly in the KitchenAid, the gentle whirr of the blades almost lulling Tayce to sleep as she sipped her cup of tea, before she took out the ball of shortbread dough and rolled it out to cut into biscuits.

“Your accent is so nice.”

Tayce looked up from her biscuits, to see the woman from Nottingham had come over, tucking her hair behind her ear, leaving her hand resting at the back of her neck to play absently with the strings of her apron. Up close, the dimple in her cheek was emphasised as a shy smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.

“Thank you!” Tayce stood to her full height. “This place doesn’t look like Barry Island yet but give it some time!” She leaned against the workbench, tossing her hair away from her shoulders.

“My accent is … well, it’s just … northern,” she continued with a giggle. “I’m Aurora, by the way. I’m so bad at names, I’m sorry, you’ve probably already said yours!”

“Don’t worry, I am too. I’m Tayce. And if I forget your name, well - yeah, same.”

Aurora’s gaze lingered half a second too long as she tested the name on her tongue.

“Tayce.” Her smile widened. “Nice to meet you.”

——

Tayce was terrible at names. She had no idea how she was going to remember who all eleven of these other people were, especially as one of them would be going every week - the pool of people getting smaller and smaller until Tayce would be remaining with whoever else was any good out of these lot.

As the day went on, she started to pick them up.

She had to learn Asttina’s for one, because Asttina seemed to know everyone’s name from the word go. Asttina was one of the two Londoners at the front, and was the only one of the group who had made a deliberate effort to come round to all their workbenches to formally introduce herself during the bake itself, her demeanour confident but her handshake gentle and light as air.

“Nice to meet you, Tayce,” she’d said, with a cool smile that reminded Tayce of a Miss World competition. “Looking forward to tasting all your bakes!”

She knew Pip’s name too, on the bench just behind Asttina, as she’d turned up in the tent wearing elf ears, claiming they were for luck. Everyone had been staring at her workbench, where she’d positioned a tiny blue handbag with a red circle in the middle, saying she took it with her wherever she went.

“I had a sesh with a psychic,” Pip explained to them all as a group of them crowded round her. “She’s a bit of a local celeb in Liverpool, Psychic Sally they call her, but - anyway, she told me to look for a sign in blue and red, said it was from me great-grandpa - and the same day I walked past one of those handbag shops on Paradise Street and there it was, in the window, 70% off!”

“Definitely couldn’t have been a coincidence, Pippa,” Tayce grinned, and Pip shook her head in agreement, but she had a mischievous glint in her eye and Tayce wasn’t entirely sure how serious she was about the whole affair.

Ellie’s name too had become familiar, because of the amount of times the show’s medics would groan it when she managed to hurt herself on something that episode. Ellie herself had been quiet most of the day, seemingly a little shy and evidently the youngest in the room; but she’d bounced on the balls of her feet at meeting Matt Lucas, garbling something about her and her brother doing all the impersonations as kids.

The soft-spoken woman in front of Tayce was called Cherry, and Tayce had found that out because she’d pointed it out to everyone when she put cherry flavouring in her biscuits.

“Does that actually, y’know, work as a flavour?” Tia had asked her when she was explaining it to them.

Tia was another name that Tayce knew, mainly because the woman was so tall and striking. She looked like she’d come straight off a catwalk and wandered into the Bake Off tent by complete accident on her way to London Fashion Week, happening to become covered in flour in the process.

Cherry had huffed. “I don’t know, but you eat cherry-flavoured things all the time! What could go wrong with putting it in biscuits?”

Tia grimaced. “Wait. Have you … never put cherry flavouring in biscuits before? Didn’t you practise at home?”

Tayce couldn’t help but feel a twinge of mirth as she watched Cherry chew her tongue, her cheeks flushing, but her jaw set obstinately. “I know what I’m doing. I can do this.”

“You haven’t even practised this bake? Okay. So how late do the trains run from here to Newcastle?” Tayce had asked Cherry, and Aurora had doubled over in wheezing laughter as Cherry had folded her arms.

“Darlington. Darlington, not Newcastle. And there’s been trains there for nearly two hundred years, love.”

That had just made Aurora laugh harder, clutching her stomach and shaking in silent giggles, leaning on Tayce as Tayce had led her back to her workbench and let her wipe the tears from her eyes before continuing with her biscuit dough.

That was the most important thing Tayce had learned so far in the tent. The woman from Nottingham opposite her was Aurora, and Aurora lit up the whole bench.

When the judges had stood with her earlier, she’d cooed about how much she adored baking everything for all her family - making fairy cakes for charity bakes for work, birthday cakes for her family, tipsy cakes for her best friends for their birthdays, or anniversaries, or whenever they were just feeling crap.

From the smile that she couldn’t hold back, Tayce knew that Aurora was the only person in the room who meant it when she said that she loved baking.

——

“One hour break, folks, and then filming starts for Technical, okay?”

The first bake was over, and Tayce’s shortbread biscuits shaped like dragons had gone down pretty well with the judges. She wasn’t sure if she’d had the best feedback, her nerves kicking in and blocking out most of the other contestants’ comments; but she thought she’d done enough for this round at least.

One of the producers herded them like sheep - or maybe cats, judging by how Ginny had gone chasing after a squirrel they’d seen - back into Norton Hall where they were all staying for the weekends while filming was happening. It was a huge, Georgian manor mouse with ceilings touching the clouds, far more halls than were necessary, and so many excessive bedrooms that each contestant had a room each.

Tayce had half-expected four-poster regal luxury as she’d opened the door to her own, twice the size of her room in her flat; but no such luck - it was furnished sparingly, and all the beds were normal. A small double, she noted. Not that she was likely to get lucky with these master bakers, but a woman could dream.

The floorboards creaked as she crossed the room and flopped backwards onto the bed, gazing at the ceiling, the elation sending a shiver through her skin as she realised again that she had made it to Bake Off.

The Bake Off!

They weren’t meant to change clothes between takes unless they’d made a huge mess with the food, so Tayce just retouched her eyeliner and went back down to the communal room, where most of them had gathered back in the group, polite conversations carrying on amongst relative strangers as they sampled each others’ biscuits.

What a surreal scene.

A group of almost strangers, half of their names unfamiliar, and she was meant to discuss baking with them all.

“Alright, babs?” She heard someone pushing a plate in front of her. “My name’s Ginny, Ginny Lemon, and if you don’t like lemon, well - just skip my biccies, alright love?”

“No, lemon is great,” Tayce forced a smile, taking one of Ginny’s biscuits. “Thanks hun.”

“You’re welcome! Which ones did you make - wait, I remember, the Welsh dragons?”

“Now how did you guess that one?” Tayce raised an eyebrow at them. “My mum’s idea, she was like, do it for the Welsh! So of course she found a dragon-shaped cookie cutter from somewhere. One of the tourist shops in Cardiff. Tourists love dragon biscuits apparently.”

“Oh I know love, I know - speaking of weird biscuits, have you ever tried a Worcester sauce biscuit? I don’t recommend it if you haven’t, but have you?” Ginny shook their head, tutting. “Tastes like shit! Waste of biscuit. Waste of Worcester sauce too, though. Anyway, Pip’s looking lonely without me. Nice to see you!”

And Ginny fled from Tayce’s arm, scurrying back over to Pip. Tayce tasted the biscuit, bracing herself for Worcester sauce, blinking with surprise to find it was actually pretty good, the lemon flavour really tasty, and finding she wanted another.

Most of the rest of the biscuits were arranged on a bench at the back. Tayce picked up another of her own and went down the line, eager to see which had depleted the most.

Gravestone biscuits were the biggest shocker for her - two different sets of biscuits were there, iced to resemble gravestones, mostly untouched - but Tayce politely picked up the better-looking of the two and found a lovely chilli kick to it when she tasted. But gravestones weren’t the only common theme - two different rose patterns were there, one set iced in different shades of pink, and the other with a deep red icing. The pink roses were almost all gone, and Tayce took the second-to-last one, enjoying the raspberry flavour, and grabbing one of the other roses to go.

Tayce peered around the room at the other contestants from her vantage point at the table. Most of them had dropped into twos and threes - with twelve people it was bound to happen - chatting amongst themselves, quietly and politely for the most part, although the two Scottish women in one corner were laughing as if they’d known each other for years.

Eventually, she joined Aurora, who was talking to someone whose white-blonde hair and pencil-thin eyebrows looked very familiar …

“Joe Black,” she said, extending a heavily-tattooed hand to Tayce, whose stomach flipped upon hearing the name.

“You’re - on Instagram, that woman -“

“My internet infamy precedes me, but in that case I hope so too do my bakes, and of course my sense of fun.” Joe’s voice was theatrical, her gestures affected; but her smile was warm, and Cherry looked as enamoured with her as Tayce was feeling.

“And who wins the biscuit version of the wars of the roses?” Joe continued, pointing down at the two rose-shaped iced biscuits on Tayce’s plate. “Lawrence, or Veronica? I must say, the amount that Veronica worried about her own bake, that time probably could have been spent thinking up a better biscuit flavour than rosewater, don’t you agree?”

Tayce glanced at Veronica’s biscuit, then up at Aurora. “Does it taste that bad?”

But before Aurora could answer, they were interrupted by “Alright, babes! How’s it hanging?”

The woman joining them had rich violet hair scraped off her face into a bun at the crown of her head, and an intense green stare. Tayce took the hand that was extended to her, finding a firmer handshake than Asttina’s, trying to follow the stream of words from this woman’s mouth.

“I’m Lauren, but you might as well call me Lawrence, that’s all Ellie’s been calling me all day, thinks she’s fucking hilarious, and I’ve not really met any of you yet because, you know,” Lawrence paused for breath, waving her hands, “baking contest, ooh I’m not here to make friends, et cetera, but now that we’re all here and we’re not baking right now, I thought I’d better find out who everyone is! Are you the one who made the dragon biccies?”

“That’s me, baby!” Tayce grinned. “Bore da, bitches!”

“See, I knew you were Welsh, and there Ellie was trying to convince me the dragon biccies were by someone who just really liked Puff the Magic Dragon, she owes me a tenner now - and you’re - oh wait, I know you!” Lawrence wagged her finger at Joe, whose expression didn’t change apart from the slow blink. “That Instagram video!”

Joe fixed Lawrence with a stare. “Yes, that Instagram video; I know that precedes me, but I hope by the end of this competition that can be eclipsed by my culinary skills.” Her voice still kept the throaty drawl, but Tayce was starting to sense her irritation at the association.

Cherry had already offered her hand to shake, and Lawrence took it. “Alright, I remember your name, because you put it in your biccies as flavouring! Where’re you from, do they grow cherries there?”

“No - I’m from Darlington.”

Lawrence blinked, frowning. “Darlington, near Sweetie-shire is that?”

“No, it’s near -“

“I’m joking babes, I’m joking! I know it’s - hey, hey Ellie!” Lawrence stopped to shout to Ellie, who had evidently reappeared. “Els! It’s not Puff the Magic Dragon! Where’s my tenner? Hey!” And she was gone in an instant, Tayce turning to watch her chase Ellie as she scurried out.

“Anyway,” Joe continued, motioning to Tayce’s plate and one of the gravestone biscuits, “I’m so glad you’re enjoying mine! I know my sense of humour is a little … ah, morbid, but I didn’t count on being one of two people with this bake, let me tell you that!”

Joe glanced over to the left out the sides of her eyes; Tayce followed her gaze to Pip, oblivious, making herself a cup of tea.

“She didn’t - like, you don’t think she -“

“Oh, no, not in a month of Sundays! But it’s a strange little coincidence, isn’t it? The viewers will love the drama!”

Joe opened her mouth wide to let out a violent cackle, a sound that might have made a shiver glide down Tayce’s spine if she hadn’t been mid-biscuit.

——

Technical: 8 Wagon Wheels

The Technical challenge was the first time Tayce felt her nerves return in a rush.

Everyone had identical ingredients and an identical recipe, but nothing prepared any of them for whipping the gingham cloth from them all and flipping the instructions over. Tayce ran her pencil down them, her head spinning.

On the first read, she recalled nothing.

Focus.

She took one steadying breath, letting go of as many nerves as she could, and then ran her pencil back down the list, jotting down timings and a couple of notes. They only had an hour and a half; precision was key.

On her right, Aurora was fidgeting with her apron, twisting her hair around her finger, before grabbing as many bowls as she could from the drawers and setting them all down ready.

It almost felt like more pressure, rather than less, having no judges in the room - just Matt and Noel, and they couldn’t really interact with the bakers at this point, mostly just talking amongst each other and having to film occasional silly quips for the television interludes.

You’re not gonna get this finished if you keep looking at Matt and Noel!

So Tayce mentally blocked out everything and anything around her, not taking her eyes off her workbench. Instructions, ingredients, whisk, repeat. Oven, timers, filling, cooling, done.

She barely remembered anything else that happened in the room.

As she put the last wagon wheel on the tray to take to the front, she wiped her brow, took a swig of tea, and then heard the immortal lines.

“Bakers! You have one minute to go!”

Tayce looked around the room. Tia, three desks ahead, was looking flustered, covered in flour from head to toe - a difficult feat when you were six feet tall - and Veronica, just behind her, was rounding the corner to help her move the biscuits over to the tray one by one as she spread on the jam and marshmallow fluff. Bimini, who Tayce was sure had finished about ten minutes earlier than everyone else, was doing the same thing for Asttina, leaning over her workbench and talking soothingly to her as they both moved biscuits around.

On the other side, Ginny was rubbing Pip’s back, trying to help her load wagon wheels onto the tray but only succeeding in knocking the handbag to the ground. Ellie broke two of her wagon wheels by dropping a palette knife on them, her squeak causing Lawrence to turn from her bench and put her hands on her hips.

But Tayce felt an unexpected wave of relief when she saw Aurora finishing her own biscuits right on schedule, stepping back with a sigh, rolling her head and her eyes to the ceiling.

They had to bring the biscuits to the front table, and put them behind their respective photographs for blind judging. Looking at the other biscuits on the bench, Tayce nodded to herself in satisfaction. She definitely wasn’t the worst. The photos were all a blur, but there was definitely one disaster, chocolate and marshmallow oozing; Ellie’s broken biscuits; and another tray with a biscuit missing.

It was easy to breathe a sigh of relief for herself.

“Just get into any order,” the producer said, pointing to the stools that had been set in front of the table, “but don’t sit directly behind your photo. Otherwise it just looks obvious.”

Tayce’s biscuits were second from the right, so she bunched towards the left, and found herself between Aurora and Joe. Joe had pretended to trip over her feet while carrying her own biscuits up, cackling gleefully at Veronica’s pained expression as she watched. Veronica, mercifully, had sat as far from Joe as she could.

Aurora was breathing rapidly next to her, and Tayce gave her a nudge with her knee.

“Chill girl! Relax! It will be fine!”

Aurora nodded, but said nothing, focusing on trying to breathe at a normal rate once again. Tayce could practically hear her heart hammering. She nudged her again playfully, and Aurora nudged her back, taking a deep breath out and seeming to calm from then.

Once Prue and Paul were back, Tayce grew a little sleepy. The judging went on for much longer than on telly, and tent was hot from all the baking and warm bodies, plus Aurora’s knee jogging rhythmically was enough to make her feel a little drowsy. Her biscuits were second to last, and Tayce wasn’t really focusing on any of the other critiques as they went down the line, not even those of the two women on either side of her.

She hated tents. They reminded her of camping. This one wasn’t like any of the camping tents, propped by firm wooden walls and decorations but it still reminded her of trips to the Gower when she was at primary school. And thinking of the Gower made her think of day-tripping to Tenby, where the air was hazy with salt and fresh fish, and the sea was far too cold as they skimmed stones, watching them bounce once, twice, three times …

A nudge at her side from Aurora brought her down from her reverie; blinking, Tayce saw the judges had reached the biscuits behind her photo, looking up expectantly to see who would claim them.

Oh, yeah. It’s the Technical, and I’m here to be judged.

She raised her hand, realising that she’d been in a dream so long that she didn’t even know what place the judges had called her for.

“Tayce - good flavour, biscuits had a good crunch, and the chocolate has set well; it just wasn’t quite filled enough.”

Nodding and smiling, she waited for them to move on to the next person before she leaned over towards Aurora, muttering from the corner of her mouth “Where did they put me again?”

But before Aurora could answer, Paul spoke up. “And in second place, we have -“

“You came third, you bitch!” Aurora whispered, her mouth open in awe, and she looped her hand into Tayce’s and squeezed. “How do you do it? You always look so put-together! Not like - Miss Second-Place down there.”

Tayce glanced at Veronica, right at the end of the line of bakers on their stools, whose hand was raised to claim second place. She was nodding earnestly at the praise, but she still wasn’t smiling, her lips tight and her other hand still quivering a little in her lap.

“That means that first place goes to - Asttina!”

But Aurora hadn’t let go of Tayce’s hand, and Tayce was suddenly more aware of that contact than whoever the winner was, even as she slowly drew her hand away for the polite applause that followed.

“Where did you come?” Tayce asked her in a whisper.

“Seventh. Not great. I over-baked them a little bit,” Aurora shrugged. “I’m never gonna be good at technical.”

——

“Congrats on coming top of Technical!” Tia clapped Asttina on the back as they came back into Norton Hall, and Asttina responded with her winning smile.

“Thanks, babe. I thought you all deserved a taste of what I can do!”

There was a collective amused murmur around the other bakers at Asttina’s slightly smug tone. Tayce grinned, staying silent for now, wondering what the others would have to say to that.

“Oh, there’s more to come, is there?” Tia continued.

“I should hope so.” Asttina licked her lips. “From all of you lot as well.”

“There’s no need to be cocky,” Veronica said, the first time any of them had really heard her speak. Veronica was tiny, with blonde hair and a nasal voice that was louder than any of them had expected; most likely feeling the sting of coming second.

Asttina shook her hair back. “I’m not cocky, Veronica, I just know what I can do. Read the CV, it’s all there! If you want to win stuff, you need to know yourself. Do you want to win?”

“Does the Pope shit in the woods?” Veronica retorted.

It was Tia’s snort of laughter that started them all off, diffusing the vague tension creeping into the room. Asttina’s laugh was only drowned out by Veronica’s as she realised what she’d said.

“Is the Pope a Catholic, does a bear shit in the woods … I know, I know. I mean, yeah, I definitely do want to win.”

Asttina shrugged. “Then there’s no point being modest about what you can do. Let your bakes do the talking!”

One of the producers came in at that moment, motioning for them all to come round, and they all bunched together.

“Alright folks, the day’s filming is done, we’ll begin tomorrow at nine sharp for the Showstopper challenges. Until then you’re free to relax and have a nice time - please don’t go into any areas marked as Private, and no excessive drinking, but otherwise, have a good night!”

“Thank you!” They chorused, clapping for some unknown reason, as some of the staff rounded up the leftover biscuits and cleared them away.

“The filming crew get them,” Veronica explained to Tia, “I asked earlier what happened to them all because I knew we wouldn’t be able to eat them all.”

“You know what this means?” Cherry said, addressing them all from on top of one of the sofas. “This is the last evening we’ll all be together. Let’s all cheers to the cast of GBBO!”

She pulled a bottle of something from her bag, and the rest of them grabbed a mug each, sharing out the gin Cherry had brought, and bringing all their drinks together in cheers.

——

Showstopper: A gingerbread sculpture of a place that makes you nostalgic.

The Showstopper was about as broad as you could get. Everyone seemed to have something different in mind. Bimini and Asttina, on the two front benches, looked as poised and confident as they had all the previous day; and Asttina, buoyed by her Technical challenge win, puffed her chest in pride.

Tayce had practised her gingerbread over and over, but nothing prepared any of them for being in the tent, where the pastel colours and the novelty of the bright, friendly conversations started to switch to a competitive edge.

Especially after the Technical, where they had all been ranked. Having a number against your name now, combined with a vague grade against the Signature challenge, meant the Showstopper was the be-all and end-all for some of them.

That was it Tayce thought to herself, as she watched Aurora’s grim determination pass her face every second.

And she wasn’t the only one.

Cherry, on the workbench in front of her, had come sixth; but she’d been much quieter all morning, concentrating on reading and re-reading her instructions, tapping her pencil against her chin and growling frustratedly every now and then.

Ellie, wearing a pair or Pip’s elf ears, was doing even worse. Being ranked eleventh had done very little to ease the nerves she had displayed the day before, and her morning had already started with another blue plaster on yet another finger.

But Aurora was the only person Tayce was concentrating on. Something about the way she’d held her hand … and Tayce was far too quick to let her mind run away without her, thinking it meant anything, when obviously it probably didn’t.

“What are you doing?” Tayce called to Aurora over the chatter of everyone else around the room; but Aurora didn’t reply, her tongue running over her lips as she surveyed the mess that was the butter and sugar mix before her.

“Aurora?” She asked, making her way to stand by her behind the bench.

Aurora was still silent, but the noise from the bowls and KitchenAid she was using spoke volumes for her without her needing to say a word.

“D’you want a cup of tea?” Tayce asked her eventually, waiting for the curt nod from Aurora before sprinting to the tea station, in a tent outside.

When she got back, Aurora had moved up to Ellie’s workbench, and even though her back was to Tayce, she could see her shoulders shaking and Ellie’s hand rubbing her back, before offering her a can of the Monster she always had to have, the label covered in masking tape to escape product placement.

Tayce approached them both to comfort Aurora too, but as she did, cameras zoomed in on all three of them. Aurora pushed them both away and walked out of the tent, covering her face.

Ellie looked from the camera to Tayce and then back again, confused more than anything, and Lawrence, turning from her bench, looked back at them all with a frown.

“What’s going on here? Is she alright?” Lawrence pointed to Aurora, who was busy wiping her tears away in the far corner, with Matt Lucas at her side and a camera in her face.

“No,” Tayce muttered, “and she won’t be while there’s a lens on her.”

After that, Tayce kept half an eye on Aurora as she baked. She mostly ignored the cameramen as they hurried around the tent, taking stock footage of them cutting gingerbread shapes, using their ovens, and decorating, but Tayce purposely kept her mouth tightly closed, and her expression firmly neutral.

As Noel called for ten minutes remaining, Tayce was finishing the detailing of the roof of the stadium. The band were meant to be playing biscuit instruments and there was meant to be a crowd, but Tayce had settled for calling it a backstage pass moment, where VIPs could meet them, and just made models of herself and her friends.

“Time is up! Bakers, step away from your bakes!”

Noel called time, and Tayce took a step back to properly admire her finished product - and really, she was blown away by her own bake. The gingerbread houses she’d made in practise had gone alright, but this one, even in the pressure cooker environment of the tent, had gone almost perfectly, down to the timing of the bakes.

“Wow,” Tayce whispered to herself, “week one is done!”

She took a few seconds to admire everyone else’s in the tent. Some were much better than others. Joe’s looked a little strange - she’d meant to do a wedding scene with the gingerbread church, but the roof was crooked, and the gravestones falling over, not supported by the sticky sugar mixture they’d all used as adhesive. Cherry’s ambitious building was incomplete, and Tayce didn’t even know what it was meant to be.

But Asttina’s was incredible - a beautiful beach scene with a model of a beach hut and even a Ferris wheel. Ellie’s technical slip up was definitely repaired by the pub she’d built, adding fondant banners inside and making the dull gingerbread colours come alive with her imaginative take on the icing outside; while Lawrence had made a theatre, melting jelly babies to create beautiful stained glass in the windows, something Tayce kicked herself for not thinking of.

They all had a chance to leave the tent for a break, to sit outside in the shelter, and to have a breather before the actual judging of the bakes was done.

“I don’t envy the judges,” Joe said, her drawling voice awed, as she took in all of the gingerbread houses from their vantage point outside the tent. “They definitely have their work cut out for them, don’t they?”

“Everyone did amazing,” Aurora nodded, “it’s just a case of who did less amazing. D’you reckon they’ll just take this into account, or the whole weekend?”

Tayce didn’t know why she was worrying. Aurora had come middle of the pack in technical, but had been praised for her Signature, and her gingerbread house - modelled on her Nan’s, she had said - was so prim and dainty that Tayce knew the judges were going to eat it up, and not only literally.

“It won’t be you, chillax!” Tayce reached to rub her hand.

“Who d’you reckon it will be then?”

“Well, they tend to take into account the numbers assigned at the Technical challenge, and the Signature comments, to make the first analysis, at least,” Joe chuckled, “that’s what we see on the television. Who were the bottom three for Technical? I was tenth, Ellie was eleventh, who was twelfth again?”

“It’s - erm,” Aurora pointed, but the name escaped her for a second. “Tia. Tia was twelfth.”

“It’s probably between the three of us, then,” Joe said brightly, “unless something goes … horribly wrong to one of the Showstoppers. And how likely is that?”

As they looked through the panels of the tent, one of the gingerbread houses collapsed into pieces onto the tray it was set on.

Tayce glanced around the other eleven bakers to see whose it was.

One of the bakers had her head in her hands, shoulders tensed, while the two people on either side of her hugged her tightly.

——

“Seriously, Joe, how did you make that happen?” Aurora’s voice was hushed, tense, after the award for Star Baker and the first elimination had taken place.

Joe’s eyes widened as she shook her head. “I don’t quite know - maybe it was just something, spoken into the universe, made to happen.”

“Or maybe it was just gravity and shitty caramelised sugar sticking it all together,” Tayce added.

“Yes,” Joe replied, “or that too.”

Joe, Ellie and Tia had all survived their stint in the bottom at Technical - but Pip, who had come ninth in Technical, and whose Signature had received mediocre feedback, had laughed behind gritted teeth at presenting her collapsed gingerbread house - “More of an Ikea house,” Paul had commented cheerily - which had ultimately turned out to be too hard to bite into and had sealed her fate. Not even the lucky elf ears saved her from the first elimination.

“I was so sure I was going home this week,” Aurora sighed later that night, back at Norton Hall, where everyone had eaten so much of each others’ gingerbread houses that they all felt ill.

“You wouldn’t have, yours was good!” Tayce rubbed her arm. “Relax! It’s done now. Just focus on next week instead.”

“And I can’t believe Prue said she’d like to try a bit of carpet when they were looking at Ellie’s pub,” Aurora said, shaking her head. “Did anyone else catch that?”

“Yeah, I did!” Tayce sniggered. “They’re so innocent! This is just gonna be a load of innuendos all season, isn’t it? Imagine what they’re gonna say for next week too.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s cake week, isn’t it?” Aurora seemed to perk up. “That’s a bit more my comfort zone.”

Suddenly the door opened, and Asttina was led back inside the area by the cameraman and a producer. Everyone broke into applause - this time genuine, not the muted, polite sound that had echoed round the tent in the technical. Asttina had just given her winner’s interview and called her family, and now wore the Star Baker badge proudly on the lapel of her jacket, her grin wider than the Cheshire Cat’s.

“How did your mum react when you said you were Star Baker this week?” Bimini asked her.

Asttina smiled the warmest smile any of them had seen all weekend from her at the mention of her family. “They screamed so loud that you probably all heard it in here. My mum was falling off the sofa, my dad was waving a wooden spoon, my brother was banging on the floor with his feet - oh, it was great.”

“Well-deserved, babes,” Bimini nodded, and Asttina pulled them in for a hug.

Everyone else was clamouring around Asttina, congratulating her on her Star Baker win this week and admiring the badge she’d won - biscuit-shaped, or at least cookie-shaped - but Tayce hung back, exchanging a glance with Aurora, a glint in her eye; and both of them knew what the other was thinking.

Let’s not cross Joe Black. She might make our Showstoppers crumble.

——

ELEVEN BAKERS REMAIN

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

The Point's That There In't No Romance Around There, Chapter 2 (Diamond Chaney, Multi) - Sportkura

AO3 link

chapter 2: and i tried last night to pack away your laugh (like a key under the mat)

A/N: aka: The Girls Being A Menace To Diamond Chaney, or Lawrence & Ellie: Idiots To Lovers.

—

“Surely they’re not this oblivious, right?”

“Oh Vee,” Tia replies. ”You underestimate Lawrence and Ellie too much. They're capable of even being more clueless than they are right now.”

The rest of the girls chuckle at Tia’s ribbing and continue to watch as Lawrence and Ellie take off their makeup in the same station, shoulders and knees almost touching with how close they are. They just finished filming the finale, and while they're all excited to see each other again, there’s more important stuff at hand, like gossip. The cameras are blissfully off, so the girls are relieved this won’t air when they watch in interest as the two queens are indifferent to everyone around them, attention only to each other.

“Oh look at them, in their own little world.” Joe sighs in mock wistfulness. “Ah, young love.”

Cherry snorts. “You’re only 30, love. It’s not too late yet.”

“Still!”

“Okay, so—” Sister interjects. “—can we all agree that this was cute at first, but now it’s just borderline painful? This has been going on since the first episode babes!”

“We did have a bit of a break in between.” Cherry sighed. “So really, can’t blame them for acting like that.”

They’re met with a chorus of yep’s, uh huh’s, and oh sure’s, and even the noise doesn’t interrupt the moment the two Scots are having. They hear Ellie shout “Stop—! Lawrence, bugger off, I’m gonna get Micellar water in my eye you cow—”, laughter and adoration coloring his voice. They watch as Lawrence keeps making smart remarks ("Well if you don’t want shaky hands then you have t’stop drinking that Mango Loco, you’re already a fuckin’ energizer bunny—”), eyes fond and grin even fonder.

All of them collectively wince.

“Girl, this isn’t borderline painful.” Tayce comments. “This is painful. Oh, good God—s’like watching a trainwreck.”

“You can see the hearts practically surround them like a cartoon.” A'Whora mimes throwing up. “Disgusting, really. Absolutely appalling.”

“I know they’re rather preoccupied, but d—d’you reckon they know about….us, as well?” Bimini hesitantly inquired. They were met with a chorus once again, this time full of protests, what are you talking about’s and half-hearted excuses, which Ginny scoffs at.

“Oh, don’t give them that!” Ginny snapped. “I’m betting my right arsecheek that Lawrie knows about all of us anyways, and if she’s got us all figured out, we might as well hang it on a fucking billboard.”

An awkward air permeates the group at the sudden revelation of feelings, only to be cut by Tayce.

“Well—cat’s out of the bag.” He muses. “So let’s not worry about that anymore, alright? We’re all good judy’s here?”

“What I’m more worried about is the fans. I mean—” Veronica nervously adds. “—good job on all of us for figuring our shit out sooner rather than later, but I’m curious as to why we’re going for the more subtle route and they’re….not.”

They continue watching in pain, until a voice pipes up.

“Think we’ll finally beat the American girls when word slips out ‘bout all of us?”

Asttina’s quip immediately gets taken over by a cacophony of Don’t joke about that’s that finally has Lawrence and Ellie look in their direction, and they all hurry back into taking off their makeup as well.

(See, Lawrence has been observing, but what he doesn't know is that the rest of them—sans Ellie—have been observing them as well.)

Cherry spots it the moment Ellie walks into the werkroom, and she turns to her other side to see the other girl's reactions and sees Lawrence, whose face is a myriad of emotions Cherry can’t quite understand. Was it shock? Jealousy? Alarm?

Lawrence makes a side comment about how Ellie will be eating shit soon with those fuckin’ chaps she’s wearing, the clumsy bitch—and beams as Ellie poses for the camera.

Once they're all sat down, Ellie smiles at Lawrence, all shy and timid, and Lawrence gives a small grin back, and then it all clicks for her.

Asttina catches it when they’re rehearsing for Rats, all trying to quell Lawrence’s sudden panic. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ellie, ever the empath, trying hard not to cry at the sight of his friend in deep distress. He sees Ellie’s hand clench and unclench and the tense set to his shoulders, like he’s doing everything he can to not run up to Lawrence and dry his tears.

Once they're done with rehearsals, Asttina smiles as Ellie immediately goes to Lawrence’s side, saying something so ridiculous that sets Lawrence off wheezing for a minute.

A’Whora almost weasels something out of them during lunch. It’s a rambunctious but pleasant affair; they’re all bonded as a group well enough to fill the silence with small talk and laughter, and he unceremoniously plops himself right next to Ellie instead of going to Tayce’s side, to which the Dundee queen immediately side-eyes him for.

“Alright.” A’Whora starts, appearing as nonchalant as he can. “Is Lawrence just taking the piss, or are you two really swapping kilts on the down low?”

Ellie almost chokes on his food, but immediately recovers. “What—scared we’re taking the spotlight from you and Tayce?”

A’Whora scoffs. “Oh please, as if I’d let that happen!” And continues in ragging on Ellie.

It doesn’t escape A’Whora’s notice that Ellie completely dodges his question.

Sister begins to suspect something when she and Ellie joke about snogging during Untucked, sees Lawrence narrow her eyes in suspicion before going back to sulk about her performance in Snatch Game. She’s not a heartless bastard, so she does her best to comfort the Glaswegian, and later when the lip sync starts, Ellie holds her hand in a vice.

When Lawrence is declared safe, she sees Ellie's body visibly sag in relief. She pretends to not catch the tears in her eyes, and just squeezes her hand in comfort.

(When they're all in the studio for their meet the queens videos, they all ask Tayce, A'Whora and Bimini just what the hell is going on between the two Scots. It’s been eating everyone else up for weeks, since their little scene after filming the finale, and the 7 of them pester the other half of the top 5 about it until they relent.

When they know Lawrence and Ellie can’t hear them, Tayce, A'Whora and Bimini just look at each other, then back at the rest of the girls.

“So—I don’t wanna beat around the bush, but you thought they were together?” Tayce asks them. The other queens stare at each other in confusion.

“T-they’re not?” Tia clarifies. “Are you sure?”

“Did we not see the same thing at the finale?” Sister interjects.

“Did they break it off and just decide to be friends or something?” Asttina adds.

“Oh, they’re definitely not dating babes.” Bimini answers, swiping their face with a cotton pad. “Completely gone on each other? For sure. But dating?”

“Nope!” Tayce answers back. A'Whora mhm’s in resigned agreement.

The confusion, then, turns into outright distraught. They all chance a look at Lawrence, who’s trying to pack her outfit, and Ellie, sprawled on the couch, still in drag and pestering her. They turn back to Tayce, A'Whora and Bimini, who suddenly look tired.

“You’re kidding.” Asttina exclaims, long-sufferingly.

A'Whora chuckles, though there’s no humor in it. “How do you think we feel?”)

See, Lawrence Chaney wasn’t as dense as a sack of bricks when it came to feelings.

The thing is, he didn’t specify whose feelings, though.

Sure, he might be a little clueless—oblivious, some might say—when it came to other people fancying him, but that was less of actual airheadedness and more insecurity and self-deprecation. Which, to be honest, was not the topic on hand at all, because there are more important things to think about right now.

It hits him, once everything's done and the season has finished airing, that he and Ellie are the only ones left. They're the only ones left. He figured everyone else’s shit out, but that left him and Ellie sticking out like sore thumbs.

It shouldn't bother him, because should anyone really give a rats ass about the fact that all the other girls have more or less hooked up? But the thought proverbially slaps him across the head and knocks his brain sideways, and he begs whatever deity that is listening to him that Ellie doesn't realize that everyone else seems to have paired off except them, and then the thought slaps him across the face again as to why he’s panicking about not wanting Ellie to realize in the first place. It’s not like he likes Ellie that way, right?

Lawrence’s eyes widen.

He’s—oh don’t tell him he’s—

It shocks him straight to the bone at first, his sudden feelings towards the one person more oblivious than he is, and in a blind panic he calls the first contact he sees on his phone, which was Sister.

“Now? You only realized you bloody liked her now?!” Sister shouts in bewilderment once the other queen finishes his tirade. “You won RuPaul's Drag Race and you only figured out your feelings for Ellie now?!”

“Alrigh’, I get i—I get it! You can stop actin’ like I pissed in ‘yer bed!”

“Please tell me you’re joking, love.” Sister pleads. "We thought you knew since the finale.”

“Oh really, Miss 'I-thought-Gin-leaving-the-competition-was-because-she-hated-me’? You're really going to be like that with me right now?”

“Right–um, no, we’re not going to talk about that.” Sister says with finality. “We’re going to talk about you, and what you’re gonna do with this.”

Gonna do with this…?

“Gonna do with this?” Lawrence questioned. “Gonnae do with ‘what’, exactly?”

“This!” Sister’s tone is borderline hysterical. “Your feelings! For Ellie! For the love of—if you tell me you’re going to pull an A'Whora and bottle this up, I wi—I will come down to Glasgow and smack you right across the head.”

The resounding silence sets the Liverpool resident off even more. “Lawrence.” He says, scandalized.

“Well I’m not the most articulate person, am I?!” Lawrence replies, equally scandalized. “I—I was jus’ hoping this’ll y’know….die down? S’not like El’s fancies me back, either.”

(Lawrence doesn’t see it, but Sister momentarily throws his phone on the table to clutch at his beanie like it’s giving him a headache.)

“Loz,” Sister picks his phone up again. “I say this with kindness—and because by virtue of Rupaul, we’re family now.”

Lawrence rolls his eyes as Sister continues slowly. “If you can figure out me and Gin, and Joe and Cherry, and about everyone else—you can figure out that Ellie’s crazy for you, too.”

“So I was right!” Lawrence completely ignores the last part because hoo boy he needs to unpack that later, and cheers in triumph. “I knew there was something going on with all of you’s, and then you lot kept denying it!”

“Lawrence, I swear to God—” He gives him the Sister Sister Resigned Sigh in B Flat. “—Not the point! If you don’t tell El’s yourself, we will.”

“Excuse me—we?”

“Yes, Loz, all of us, and we’ll actually do it, don’t think we’re just ripping the piss out of you.” To add insult to injury, he continues, serious this time. “Look, we ju—we just don’t want you to botch this up.”

“Oh get the fuck out of here! What is this—a shitty Netflix movie?”

“Some of us—” Sister continued, undeterred. “—some of us have done something really stupid, like say—spontaneously book a train from Brighton to Darlington to visit one person, or uh—move in with someone you swore you weren’t love with. Maybe even almost break quarantine protocols just to spend a weekend in someone’s flat in Worcester—”

“—And whose fault was that, really?”

“One date.” Sister pleads with him. “Just ask her out on one date, you know Ellie—if she turns you down, she won’t let it ruin your friendship. She’s more horizontal than a goddamn pool cue.”

He continues, voice bordering on exasperation. “And all of us know she won’t turn you down—Lawrence, for the love of god, she looks at you like you invented that Mango Loco Monster she bloody likes—”

“—I’m not doing this with you!” Lawrence says with fake enthusiasm as he abruptly ends the call, and sinks even deeper onto his couch.

He supposes he’ll never exactly pinpoint when his feelings towards Ellie went from platonic to more than. Ellie was a good friend. More than a good friend, even. Was the closest thing he had to a best friend—a constant—in the competition. They’ve been through thick and thin, ever since that one fateful Instagram DM all those years ago. Ellie saw all the parts in him, both good and bad, and still decided to stick by his side. He hopes he was like that to Ellie too, despite everything that tried to get in their way.

Maybe it was that one night in Dundee, maybe it was when she saw her walk into the werkroom, maybe it was when Ellie called him at one in the morning after that night—that night when that episode aired that they’ll never talk about except in I’m sorry’s and It’s okay’s. Maybe there was never an exact moment, even. Maybe it was always there, simmering but never boiling-over; ever-present but never obvious for them to notice it.

Bastards. Sister was right.

They may have their arguments and spats (that one episode still rings clear in his head) but he’ll be damned if he let’s anything ruin his friendship with his fellow Scot.

He just hopes his feelings won’t be the final nail on the coffin.

He spends a good chunk of time agonizing over it, the dramatic little shit that he is. Said good chunk of time involves a lot of swearing, pacing around the flat, laying on the couch and moaning about the situation he’s in. His phone buzzes a couple of minutes later and Lawrence chooses to ignore it, knowing that it's Sister again and he doesn't want to hear another lecture, thank you very much.

“Acting like a mother hen—chrissakes—I’m only a coupla’ years younger than her and now she’s preachin’ t’me about ‘doing the right thing’.” Lawrence mumbles to himself, and sees that his phone is buzzing again, this time a message from Ginny.

From: Gin x

ffs lawza answer sister already she’s gettin pissy

and stop being an idiot and just tell els she’s probably just as obsessed with u babs

To: Gin x

and fuck off ❤️

Speaking of doing the right thing—he pulls up his calendar and notices that he has to do a video with Ellie this weekend, and spends the next hour not only thinking of a video idea, but what to do with his feelings for the Dundee queen.

Once everything’s set, he just waits for the inevitable.

The recording went well, Lawrence supposes. It was fun to go back to memory lane and see all the old (circa 2016) videos of them, but the more they watch old videos of them, together, bantering, performing and getting the crowd hyped up, it becomes more and more glaring that this has been in the running for a long time. She introduces Ellie in one video, and Lawrence cringes at the way her voice absolutely goes in that adoring quality when talking about the Dundee queen. Either Ellie doesn't notice, or she’s just being nice and doesn't mention it to her. Lawrence isn’t religious, but she briefly looks up and sends a prayer in thanks—for appearing normal somewhat on tape right now—and not like the melting pot of nerves she is on the inside.

The video is all done and is ready to send to her editor, but they watch a couple more for nostalgia’s sake. There’s this one particular video, though, of them bantering to stall some time for the next performer, and when she looks at Ellie, who’s looking at the screen, all she sees is unabashed affection in her eyes, and once again she thanks whatever deity is looking out for her now that they’ve stopped recording.

Now or never, Lawza.

“Listen, El’s—” Lawrence rushes out. “—D’you fancy going to lunch with me later?”

“Hm? Oh! Yeah, sure.” Ellie distractedly replies back, and tears her eyes away from the video. “Want to invite the other girls? Heard A’Whora and Tayce are in town.”

Of course they are, probably wanting to spy on us too like some nosy fuckers. “No, I–uh–I was thinkin’ it could be just—us two?”

Ellie smirks, and goes back to watching the video. “What—like a date?”

She meant it as a joke—Lawrence knows this—but when she remembers how insane this past year has been for her drag career and for her feelings towards Ellie, she thinks screw it and is serious for once when she says, “Ye–yeah, actually.”

This time, Ellie’s head snaps up to her, completely forgetting about the video playing on the laptop. “Loz, wha—”

“See, I’ve been thinking,” Lawrence starts, eyes closed like she’s bracing for impact, afraid of the car crash that is her nervous rambling. “Which I know—surprising, right? But yeah, I just realized now that all of our sisters are practically recitin’ wedding vows to each other right now, which just leaves us two, and for a second, I didny want you to realize that.”

“Loz—”

“—A-and then I don’t know why I didn’t want you to realize that everybody else has been pairing up except us, and when I did realize why, I was—I was just about to shit myself, because, god, El’s—”

“—Lawza—”

She takes a shuddering breath, and continues. “—I’m so fuckin’ gone on you. Fully wig over heels. Probably have been for a long time now, so I’m sorry for springing this up on you so sudden. You’re like, my best pal—but Sister said the rest of the gals will kill me if I don’t pussy up and say anything—which, I don’t wanna risk, personally—they’re fuckin’ terrifying when they want t’be, especially Sister, still don’t know why she brought an axe at the finale—”

“—Lawrence!”

“Yeah—?” Lawrence finally stops her rambling, and when she opens her eyes, she sees the same unabashed affection on Ellie’s face, only this time aimed at her.

“Would you kill me if I said I was gonna say yes even if you didn’t have to explain yourself?” She jokes.

“Well—I—”

“I’m fucking gone on you too, dumbass.” She says lightly, though Lawrence can see her blush peeking out from her foundation. “Have been for a while now too, though I just didn’t notice it until you were rambling about it—you know me, fuckin’ A’Whora could scream from the rooftops about how she’s bangin’ Tayce and I wouldn’t even blink twice—so yeah, I’m crazy for you too. Don’t know why I only realized now, but em—”

“Now who’s rambling?” Lawrence teases, and oh fuck, she doesn’t know if its from Ellie’s confession or from her corset, but she suddenly feels lightheaded.

“Oh my god—shut up! You’re ruining the moment.” Ellie grins, and Lawrence thinks she could get used to that cheeky grin being directed at her, even when she’s being a little shit.

“Yes, I would like to get lunch with you, bestie.” Ellie continues, batting her lashes for emphasis, and stands up to run away from Lawrence when she approaches her.

“Oh, playing cheeky with me, are ye? After I fuckin’ poured my heart out for you—”

“Nobody said you had to write a fucking sonnet, Shakespeare! Lawrence if you come any closer I swear—”

(During their date, Lawrence snaps a photo of them eating lunch—he’s a sentimental cow like that—and posts the photo on his Instagram stories, writing “forced me tae have brunch w/ her send help xx” as a caption to avoid suspicion from the fans. Several pings! come from his phone not even a minute later, and he groans loudly at the fact that the notifications came from 10 certain people replying to his story.

“Someone giving you a hard time?” Ellie inquires, and tries to take a peek at his phone.

Lawrence squeezes his hand to placate him. “Several someone's actually. But naw–s’okay mum, I got it.” He jokes, and fires a quick “i hate you x” to A’Whora’s “FUCKING FINALLY. tell me when u want to double date!!!” and to Sister’s “told you so you hound 😘”.)

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Or The Thought Of You? (A’Whora/Joe Black) - Juno

Summary: Aurora has a chance encounter with the singer in the bar which leaves her wanting more.

I hope you like this slightly late submission for the rarepair songfic challenge! The song in question is Nightwish’s Slow Love Slow.

For once Aurora was early.

It gave her time to take in the optics of the bar she sat at, warm amber light that illuminated the deep mahogany finishing, sophistication clinging to it and to the air. There were so many bottles of spirits in the back behind the bar, spirits with names she could barely think of how to pronounce. On the stage, a live band played soft jazz music - a piano, a double bass, a cello - with gentle precision that was just distinguishable over the delicate chatter of everyone around her.

The clientele, evidently from another era, Aurora was surrounded by a sea of form-fitting Donna Karan dresses and Rolex watches. Aurora thought she looked like she blended in, at least in appearance, in the long black dress with the slit up the leg and the patent black stilettos she’d ‘borrowed’ from her housemate, gold trim accentuated by her earrings, her hair still in its perfect shape.

But she stood out a mile because she was early , or maybe the other two were just late . Leaving her on her own, alight like a lighthouse or so she felt.

When Tia had suggested this place one lunch break, it had been a half-hearted joke, too posh for them and full of rich folks, but then Lawrence had piped up that she’d always wondered what it was like inside, so now all three of them were come down for the night, along with Tia’s flatmate Tayce. It sounded like a laugh. Live cabaret, posh drinks, and unpronounceable cocktails on the enormous menu with tiny writing that Aurora had in her hands right now.

The barman came to Aurora eventually, and she ordered herself a cosmo, the only one she recognised (even though she’d never tried one), enjoying watching the other bar staff shaking cocktail mixers as she waited, and when it was served to her on its own little napkin, Aurora felt like she’d fallen into a Bond film. Maybe she had.

For a split second she saw herself as a Bond girl, but the illusion was quickly shattered as she reached for the drink; it went flying, knocked across the bar by a hand, waved emphatically from a woman who had appeared on her right.

By some miracle Aurora seemed to have missed getting soaked, but her wrist was seized by a hand in a powder-blue opera glove and squeezed in condolence. Aurora was met by a pair of grey eyes, framed by pencil-thin eyebrows, and a peplum gown that matched her gloves in colour.

“I’m dreadfully sorry for that,” the woman said earnestly. “Let me get you another.”

Aurora was taken aback by how much this woman’s low but melodic voice made her scalp tingle. It made her want her to keep talking. But - is it … - Aurora inhaled when she realised. The blue gown with the white tuxedo embellishment, the quaffed red hair in victory rolls? She knew this person. She’d seen her before. She was plastered on the posters on the windows of this place, her name in that gilded-age font …

“Joe Black?”

Joe turned back to Aurora at her whisper of realisation, an impish smile spreading across her face at Aurora’s awed voice.

“In the flesh, darling!”

Joe threw back her head and cackled, a garish contrast to the silkiness of her voice. Aurora expected the clientele around her to stare, but no one batted an eyelid at her outburst.

“You - you’re -“

“Short?” Joe giggled, leaning closer to Aurora and dropping her voice lower. “I get that one all the time. That’s all people say to me when they see me. ‘ Oh, Joe, I thought you’d be much taller!’ ”

“No - I mean, you’re -“

But Aurora’s words vanished as the barman scurried over with Aurora’s new drink, and what looked like the same thing in the same Martini glass for Joe. Joe curled her fingers around the stem of the glass with delicate precision, swiveling on her stool to face Aurora dead on.

“Here’s to …” Joe shook her head and waved a hand dismissively, “… I don’t know, Glenn Close. First person that came to mind.” And she smirked, before raising her glass to cheers with Aurora and then to her lips, her eyes holding Aurora’s as she did the same.

Aurora almost choked on her sip as Joe continued to drink, until she had almost drained the glass, licking her lips and sighing contentedly.

“What the -“

“It’s my usual, darling. Don’t worry! It’s only water!” Joe threw back her head and laughed again. “You wouldn’t think I’d want any liquid courage before taking my place on stage, would you? Ah, no - the old Joe Black, now - she was a bit of a boozy cow, but nowadays, it doesn’t do one’s reputation any good to be plastered before your first song!”

The odd lyrical quality to her voice made Aurora convinced she was putting on a character, but she couldn’t deny that she found Joe’s eccentricity utterly fascinating, found herself being drawn towards her aura.

“Why don’t you order just a normal glass then?” Aurora asked, not even trying to hold back her amused smile.

“Well, because - I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t catch your name.”

Joe had shuffled her stool closer to her now, resting a gloved hand on top of Aurora’s where it lay at the base of the Martini glass.

“Aurora.”

“Ah. As in Borealis.” Joe let out an exaggerated sigh, her eyes misting as if with memories. “A thing of glory. Illuminating the Arctic skies. Did you know that they can come as far south as here? Well, not Brighton,” she added with a wry smile, “but here in a broad sense.”

“I - no?”

“Well anyway, Aurora - I would order water in a plain tall glass, but I do like the martini glasses, gives it an air of splendour. Matches my style. After all, why would I want to shatter any illusions? No one here seems to want to have their illusions shattered, don’t you think?”

Joe gestured to the people around them, none of whom were looking at them, all in their own worlds with those around them, the chatter and the music threading between them all.

“It’s all an illusion, isn’t it? This space here, all these people, they’re all on their own stages. All their own performers. Even you!” Joe winked. “Life is a stage, we’re the actors.”

Aurora blinked in wonder, rendered speechless. But something about Joe still fascinated her. Aurora took another drag of the cosmo, her tongue loosening more and more.

“What’s your excuse then? Is this all an act too? Is Joe Black just an act?”

Joe just chuckled, the sound deep in her throat sounding a little sinister, and Aurora watched as finger by finger, Joe slid the opera glove off her left arm, revealing more tattoos than Aurora would have ever thought, all the way down her arm and onto her fingers.

“Maybe the patrons of the establishment wouldn’t care if they saw their cabaret act in tattoos, but the illusion that I’m a proper lady singing jazz atop a grand piano apparently needs to be an illusion in itself. Although the management didn’t say I couldn’t use my David Bowie dress, especially if it’s Bowie I’m singing.”

Joe was nudging the tips of Aurora’s fingers with the tips of her own, smiling through her eyelashes, her eyes full of mischief.

Aurora found herself slightly tongue-tied, but her voice came back to her eventually. “Did they hurt? The ones on your hand? I wanted to get one there, but my friend says they hurt a lot more than what they’re worth and they never stay too long.”

Stupid question, Aurora.

“They feel like having your hands dipped in warm honey, darling.”

Aurora frowned. “Really?”

“No, not really.” Joe cackled. “They all bloody hurt! But beauty is always pain.”

“Not always,” Aurora protested. “I’m not in pain.”

“Indeed,” Joe said softly, and Aurora felt her thumb slide into the palm of her hand. “Look me in the eyes and tell me those shoes aren’t killing you.”

Aurora met her eyes, triumphant. “My feet are fine. Thank you very much.”

“Really?” Aurora could feel Joe’s thumb on a tender spot in the centre of her palm, one that made the rest of her hand tingle. “I’m not convinced. Body language. These sorts of things give people away, you see, in a way that speaking will not. And really, the body language of everyone here?”

Joe’s eyes glittered, wicked and smug. Aurora was still acutely aware of the sensation of Joe’s thumb on her palm, responding by curling her fingers around Joe’s, and as she leaned closer, Aurora found herself frozen as Joe’s lips found her ear, her voice a slow whisper, sending another tingle down from her scalp down her spine, causing her to shudder.

“Everyone’s faking it, darling!”

And with that cackle, right at the back of her throat, Joe let Aurora’s hand go, drained the rest of the water from the Martini glass, and sauntered away from the bar, swinging her hips exaggeratedly, her laughter floating away behind her, but Aurora noticed that no one else turned to look at her.

It was almost as if she wasn’t even there. Aurora was left staring after her, shuddering again, her skin suddenly warm and tingly …

“A’Whora! Wakey wakey, eggs and bloody bakey!” Tayce was snapping her fingers under Aurora’s nose before Aurora noticed that she’d appeared, brows furrowed; and Tia behind her had tilted her head to one side.

“What’s bitten you, Aurora? You looked as if you’ve seen a ghost!”

Aurora blinked, her eyes darting between them both. “You - you saw her, right?”

“Who?” Tayce turned once to the direction Aurora looked, before whipping her head back to face her. “You feeling alright? How many did you have while you were waiting for us?”

“Shut up!” Aurora giggled, giving Tayce a gentle shove, which was reciprocated with a gleeful chuckle. “Where’s Lawrence?”

“Just went to the loo.” Tia pointed. “She’d better hurry up, she’s gonna miss the beginning!”

The lights were dimming. All eyes and all attention was turning to the stage, a hush developing around the bar and the room, as the sound of heels on the wooden stage drew nearer.

The crowd clapped politely as Joe Black came on, beaming down at them all, her smile wide and glorious. She paused to toss one of the victory rolls from her shoulder, before wrapping her fingers around the microphone stand and putting her lips millimetres from it.

“Good evening. I hope you are all having a wonderful time tonight. I am Joe Black, and this is my … microcosm of wonder.”

And even just the greeting, the low deep voice, was enough for tingles to spread down from the base of Aurora’s scalp once again.

“Is that the ghost you saw, Rory?” Tayce teased. “Because she doesn’t look like one from here!”

But before Aurora could say a word, the pianist hit the first note of Life On Mars, and the whole room was mesmerised by her. Not a soul spoke, not a whisper, just Joe commanding the stage, quiet but enrapturing at once.

Maybe not a ghost, but there was definitely something … otherworldly about her.

Aurora craved more.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #uk2 #joe black #a'whora #a'whora x joe #tia kofi #tayce #bar au #rare pair #song fic #fic challenge #juno

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Whenever I’m Alone With You (Tia/Veronica) - Juno

Summary: Tia and Veronica take an eventful day trip to the seaside. They start the day as friends. Will that be the case by the end of the day?

(A/N: It’s taken me a little while but I’m finally happy with this so here is some Greentia for anyone who wants DRUK stuff. No CWs it’s mostly fluffy with some h/c. I hope you enjoy.)

Brighton was supposed to be well-known for having the best beaches in the UK. Student city? Sure. Queer-friendly? Yes. But the beach? Mostly stones. Stones as far as the eye could see along the coastline.

Disappointing, Tia thought to herself as she leaned against the intricate Victorian iron fence surrounding the beach. I expected white sand and palm trees from the way the uni welcome pack hyped it up. I’ll give it a four out of ten.

Still, the seaside was alright. It almost felt like being back in Clacton. The usual fairground rides, a Ferris wheel, the pier out over the sea littered with people, and seagulls brave enough to steal your wallet let alone your chips.

It was October and for some reason it was sunny and warm this Saturday, and Tia had come to the seaside to relish what would probably be the last warm-ish day of the year. What seemed to be the entire population of East Sussex had also taken that view, and the beach was crowded with people chasing the last strands of summer sun.

Tia preferred to be here on the pavement above the beach, breathing in the salty sea air, and listening to the waves, wondering how something so forceful sounded so peaceful.

“Nice day.”

Veronica’s soft voice behind her served as a reminder that Tia wasn’t alone.

Out of her three new housemates, Veronica hadn’t been Tia’s first choice in wanting someone to spend the day at the seaside with, but Aurora and Ellie had already gone out. They’d only lived in their halls for just over a month, but Aurora and Ellie were already almost joined at the hip, spending all day together when they weren’t in lectures.

There were four of them on their floor of the halls, all women. Tia had instantly bonded with Ellie, who bubbled with fun and was most content when she was making people laugh. It had taken a little longer to get to know Aurora, who was hard as nails but whose loyalty to her friends was endless. And then there was Veronica. Veronica had avoided most of the freshers’ social activities, barely leaving her room, and in doing so, became something of a loner.

She’d asked Veronica to go with her out of politeness, but also out of some vague fascination with her. Tia knew they were friends - if the last month had shown them anything, they were definitely friends - but she didn’t know enough about Veronica to know if it would be a fleeting friendship or a lasting one.

After all, Tia thought to herself as she watched Veronica getting black lipstick all over the cone, we don’t really have much in common on the surface.

“Yeah, it’s a really nice day,” Tia nodded at her finally, taking another lick of the ice cream Veronica had bought her.

The quiet resumed between them; not an uncomfortable sound, Tia noticed, but one that simply didn’t need to be filled with noise. It made a change from Ellie, always game for a laugh, and Aurora, who had an opinion to give on everything. But Tia liked the quiet time they shared. The only sound was the rush of the sea, and Veronica humming some tune that Tia recognised vaguely, but not enough to know.

There was a clatter as Veronica’s parasol dropped to the ground beside her. Veronica smiled apologetically as she leaned to pick it up. Tia knew some people with some - interesting fashion choices, but Veronica was the only person she knew with an actual parasol, black like the rest of her outfit.

“Do you always wear black?” Tia asked.

Veronica’s huff and rehearsed reply said it all. “Yes, I always wear black, I sleep in a coffin, and it’s Halloween every bloody day.”

“I mean - don’t you get really warm in summer?”

Veronica seemed to consider the question. “Not really. The skirt is quite thin material, and -“

“But it’s all black.”

“So?”

“Well, it traps heat,” Tia said.

Veronica looked down at herself, cocking an eyebrow, turning back to look at Tia. “Yeah, I suppose so. At least I look, you know, hot.”

Tia blinked at Veronica, who held her gaze expectantly.

“No, sorry, Vee, that was just crap. That was such a bad dad joke.” Tia shook her head in exasperation. “Honestly! I thought goths were meant to be funnier than that.”

Veronica sighed. “Yeah, well, me too.”

Her contemplative stare out to the sea was evidently meant to be intense, but no one, not even someone as goth as Veronica, could ever look too intense while eating an ice cream.

“Is that why you bought me an ice cream in the first place?” Tia asked, still teasing, trying to coax Veronica to open up a little more. “Were you trying to make up for your dad jokes in advance?”

Veronica managed a smile. “Partly. And - partly to say thanks for sticking up for me last night.”

Last night. Tia cringed internally.

“Yeah, well,” Tia muttered, shuffling uncomfortably. “You were homesick. You didn’t need that.”

Veronica’s stare was fixed on the horizon as she continued. “I … don’t think I realised how homesick I would be.”

“It’s normal, Vee. You’re not - you don’t have to put on a hard front just because you like wearing black; you’re allowed to be emotional too. It’s not like the rest of us haven’t been homesick as well.” Tia gave her a nudge in the shoulder. “You saw me bawling about it, didn’t you?”

——

All it had taken for Tia to get homesick was for that Doja Cat song to come on Tia’s shuffle while she was waiting for the kettle to boil.

It was Thursday morning, the week after lectures started, and Tia was already feeling like shit. The reality that she was here to study had kicked in, and she’d spent half the night awake worrying about her first assignment. But when the song had come on, Tia had been instantly flooded with the memory of her mum attempting that TikTok dance with her, falling about in laughter when she’d failed. That had been enough for Tia to break down, sobbing so hard that she didn’t have the energy to finish making her cup of tea.

Aurora hadn’t come home the previous night, spending the night at Tayce’s halls after Wicked Wednesdays at the union bar, and Ellie’s 8.15 lecture had already started; so Tia knew that when she heard a creaking of the door in the hallway that it would be Veronica.

“What’s up, love?” She’d whispered cautiously, but Tia had just cried harder at her words, so she’d simply rubbed her back and shoulders and made her a brew as Tia had tried to stop crying.

“D’you miss your mum?” Veronica had asked, peering up at her in concern, Tia’s free hand clasped tenderly in both of hers.

“I’m sorry, I’m being stupid,” Tia had managed to mumble through her tears.

“Don’t say that, you’re not being stupid at all,” Veronica had soothed, looping her hand into the crook of Tia’s elbow. “Tell you what, come into my room and we’ll put on a film, eh?”

“I - I have a lecture at 11 -“

“You’re not going anywhere, someone will get you the notes.”

Tia was surprised at how determined Veronica was to take care of her, pulling her into her immaculately tidy room and setting the tablet up with Netflix. She hadn’t expected Veronica’s first choice in a comfort film to be Finding Nemo, or for Veronica to toss the blankets over both of them and curl up next to Tia, handing her tea and the pack of Hobnobs that she’d only bought the day before.

They didn’t really speak at all.

Tia felt herself calm down gradually, laughing and tearing up at the film, passing biscuits back and forth with Veronica, sharing the progression of emotions with her as they came and went.

It was a depth of care that Tia felt to her bones.

Not that the other two girls on their floor would have been bad company. She knew that Aurora would have given her a hug and a peck on the cheek, told her she was amazing and she was smashing it and how much she herself was feeling the pressure of being away from home too. She knew that Ellie would have cracked a few jokes and tried to make her laugh, maybe telling her a funny story of something she’d seen Aurora do, or one of the scores of new friends she’d already made.

They both would have tried to be helpful in the best and most loving way they knew how.

But Tia wouldn’t have been able to take in encouragement from Aurora, and she didn’t want to laugh even if Ellie had succeeded in making her.

Somehow Veronica knew that Tia didn’t need someone to make noise for the sake of noise. She didn’t need hugs. She just needed … company. She just needed someone there to be with her.

“Thanks, Vee,” Tia had said finally, unable to meet Veronica’s eyes. “I - I feel a lot better now.”

“It’s alright,” Veronica had murmured, threading her fingers into Tia’s and squeezing. “Come back any time.”

——

“What made you want to come to Brighton?” Veronica asked, breaking into Tia’s memories.

They had moved to a free spot on the beach itself, sitting on a towel under Veronica’s parasol - seriously, why did she have a parasol? - the heat now starting to break as the evening drew in. Tia was taking a swig from her bottle of water, while Veronica was digging into the sand with her hands, pulling up handfuls and letting the grains slip through her fingers.

Tia shrugged in response. “The course. Being by the coast. Lesbians. The usual.”

“Oh.” Veronica stifled a laugh. “Like me then. The usual.”

The forced nonchalance of her tone made Tia snort with laughter.

“Where are you from again?” Tia asked her.

“Lancashire. Took five hours for my dad to drive me down here last month. Five bloody hours.” Veronica held up five fingers as if she hadn’t given enough emphasis already. “I wanted to come here for a bit of a fresh start, I suppose. No one I know from school went this far south. I thought maybe I’d have - I don’t know. A reinvention. A renaissance, fitting on my History course, eh?”

“Yeah,” Tia nodded.

“But you can’t shake off the old habits,” Veronica muttered darkly.

“What do you mean?”

“People - just thinking I’m stuck-up.” Veronica sighed, digging back into the sand. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

——

The previous night had been tense. Aurora’s friend Tayce had asked about the roommate who never seemed to leave her room, and Aurora had groaned an exaggerated groan, running her hands through her hair.

“I’m so sick of Veronica’s martyr act,” Aurora had declared at the sound of Veronica’s name, her voice ringing in the kitchen and through the open doorway to the hall.

“Don’t be stupid,” Tia had said, nudging Aurora in the ribs. “She’s not a martyr.”

“She is. She’s playing the martyr. I mean, she’s nice when you speak to her,” Aurora had shrugged, “but she doesn’t really want to talk to us, does she? She doesn’t make an effort, it’s always us making the effort with her. Like she’s too good for us. We’re just normal and she’s special just because she likes some bloody moody bands from the eighties.”

Tayce had raised her eyebrows, grinning her usual wolfish grin and sniggering silently behind her hand.

“She doesn’t think she’s special,” Tia had retorted, but Aurora had just rolled her eyes.

“It annoys me. People like her want to be different but they are all the same as each other. They want to conform to show that they don’t conform. How does that make sense? She just wants the attention.”

That was when they’d all heard the door slam.

“Good going, Aurora,” Tia had hissed. “She must have heard you.”

Aurora had chewed her tongue nervously, a flush creeping up her neck, but she stood her ground. “Whatever. I’m not wrong, am I?”

“You are wrong, actually,” Tia had replied, her voice suddenly louder than Aurora’s, “because you just don’t give her the chance. She’s not playing anything. She’s just - I don’t know, shy. And missing her home. And I bet you’re not making it any easier for her to feel like she can come talk to you. Leave her alone.”

Tayce’s sniggers had become too loud to cover up, and she turned to bury her face into Aurora’s shoulder. Aurora, her face now red as a tomato, had chewed her lips and shaken her head in exasperation.

“Whatever.”

With that, she’d swept away to her own room, Tayce on her heels. Tia had hung back, remembering Veronica’s kindness towards her, knowing that she was probably going through it as well. Ellie and Aurora had both had tough days, too. They all had.

Tia had stopped outside Veronica’s room and knocked gently at her door.

“Vee?”

But Veronica didn’t answer initially. Tia knew it was wrong to barge in, but she’d found the door unlocked.

“I’m opening the door - tell me to go - or I’m coming in -“

But Veronica had called “Come in” in the smallest voice, and Tia pushed the door open.

Veronica was curled on her side on the bed, staring at the wall, tracing the paint on it with her finger. When Tia had pushed the door closed and sat on the bed next to Veronica, she could see that her face was red and patchy and her eyes bloodshot.

“Is that really what they all think? That I’m an attention-seeker?”

Her voice had broken as she spoke. She rolled onto her back to face Tia, searching her eyes for honesty, and Tia thought she seemed as angry as she was upset at the way she had been spoken about.

Tia had shaken her head. “I don’t think that. I think -”

I think you’re really lovely.

The words wouldn’t come out, and Tia realised that they went deeper than she’d previously thought. But Veronica’s eyes had softened, and she’d laid her hand on Tia’s, almost as if she’d heard her thoughts. “Thank you.”

——

“They’re nice, you know, Aurora and Tayce are,” Tia replied, and Veronica looked up at her. “Just - I don’t know - don’t be scared of them.”

“Aurora’s got some preconceived idea about me because of how I look.”

“Okay, but you do too,” Tia sighed. “You think Aurora and Tayce won’t want to talk to you because they’re the coolcrowd. I get it, I feel like that too sometimes. But Aurora just takes a bit of time to get to know, and trust me, she’s just tough for show; she’s really sweet and caring underneath it all. Like you,” Tia added.

“I guess.” Veronica muttered.

“I mean - you’re right, things don’t just change when you move away, you have to make them change.”

Veronica huffed.

“You know I’m right,” Tia said.

“Yeah, I do. Sorry.” She shrugged dismissively. “Dad always tells me off for being stubborn. Maybe Aurora had a point.”

A seagull landed dangerously near to Veronica, and she kicked out at it. When it didn’t immediately fly away, Tia sat up on her knees and waved a hand, until it scurried away to a safe distance.

“This place is giving me lots of Clacton vibes.” Tia stretched out her legs again. “My mum used to take me there every summer, and it’s the same as here! Some sand, some chips in a cone, seagulls shitting everywhere, a few rides, you get the idea.”

“Rides?” Veronica spun to Tia at that word, her eyes lighting up suddenly. “I didn’t know if you liked rides! Do you want to go on a ride on the pier? Or the Ferris wheel or something? Is there a waltzer? I love the waltzers, oh my God -“

“I don’t know, do I! I’ve only lived here for as long as you have!”

But Tia couldn’t have resisted the spark of joy that came to Veronica’s face if she’d tried, holding back laughter at Veronica’s sudden burst of enthusiasm. She got up and pulled Veronica to her feet, and Veronica hooked a hand through Tia’s arm in what was becoming a wonderfully familiar gesture, to pull her along the seafront towards the pavilion and the amusement arcade.

“Waltzers!” Veronica cried, squeezing Tia’s arm and pointing at the waltzers fifty yards away. She dragged Tia towards them with surprising strength for such a tiny woman.

But Tia was worried. Is this the time to mention I’ve never been on them? That I hate spinning round and round?

“Am I gonna vom?” Tia asked nervously. “I don’t want to vom. Do they spin you?”

“Yeah, they do, but you won’t puke, promise.”

“You sure?” Tia eyed the waltzer, but Veronica nodded earnestly.

“Yeah, I’m sure. My brother gets car sick and he loves the waltzers too, come on, you’ll be fine.”

Partly, Tia was watching the other people in the booths shrieking with delight as they spun in their booths, but mostly, she saw a happy side to Veronica that she hadn’t seen a great deal of, and found she wanted to experience it with her.

Things don’t just change when you move away, you have to make them change.

“Alright, I’m coming on.”

The next three minutes were a blur. A fast, dizzying blur. Tia just remembered screaming until her throat hurt and clinging onto the bar for dear life as she leaned into Veronica, who screeched loud enough to wake the actual dead, the g-force sticking them to each other and the back of the booth like glue.

But it was so fun that Tia wanted to go again.

“Vee,” Tia muttered, as they stepped back off, “I’m covered in your nail marks, hun.” She showed Veronica her forearm, where her nails had dug in, leaving tiny crescent-moon indents in her skin.

Veronica grimaced. “Sorry. Can I make it up to you?”

“Another ice cream?”

“I was thinking of Spoons.” Veronica pointed to the pub on the seafront. “It’s getting too cold here now for ice cream.”

——

The sun had set and the seafront had a definite chill in the air as Tia and Veronica sat together on the terrace outside Spoons. They watched the people around them as they passed, the ride operators for the kids rides as they packed away, and the daytime folk, as a handful of teenagers started to appear, getting on the rides themselves.

The rush of the waves as the tide crept in, and Veronica’s persistent humming, filled the space between them. Veronica had shuffled her chair right next to Tia’s, and the song was irritatingly familiar, but Tia couldn’t quite remember it.

“What is that song you keep humming?” Tia asked Veronica finally.

“Oh - nothing.” Veronica swallowed hard.

“Really?” Tia grinned at her. “Is it The Cure or something?”

“Yeah - yeah, it’s The Cure.” Veronica said quickly. “Disintegration. Great album.”

“It sounds like it,” Tia nodded, secretly hoping she’d never have to be subjected to it. Veronica fell completely silent after that, a little self-conscious, and Tia felt a little uncomfortable for the first time that day.

“That woman’s the fortune teller at the Pavillion,” Tia motioned as she passed, trying to ease the tension. “Tayce got her palm read by her at freshers’ week. She thought Tayce was from Yorkshire! She couldn’t even read her mind and see she’s Welsh!”

“Fortune telling?” Veronica shook her head. “Just a cheap trick, cold reading more like.”

“I can do it! Give me your hand and I’ll show you.”

Tia took Veronica’s nearest hand that lay on the table, and pulled it towards her. Veronica shuffled in even closer, leaning into Tia’s arm. She was much shorter than Tia, her chin only just resting on Tia’s shoulder, and Tia found her warm weight more distracting than she thought she would.

“So,” Tia mused, stroking her thumb slowly down Veronica’s palm, “this line here, that’s your life line, this long one here in the middle of your palm. See it?”

Veronica didn’t speak, but she gave a hum of agreement, her lips perking at the corners into a dreamy smile. Tia caught a hint of the surprisingly light floral perfume she wore, a vague scent of apple from her hair.

“This line here,” Tia mumbled, rapidly losing her train of thought, running a thumb along the palm of Veronica’s hand. “This line, it’s - your life line. I said that already. Erm. It means that you … spend your life … in lines. All sorts of lines. Lines for rides, lines at the shop, Tube lines -“

“Give over.” Veronica sounded almost a little disappointed. She took another swig of her drink, almost draining the glass.

“Your love of lines has been exposed now, Vee. You can’t hide it any longer.”

To her surprise, Veronica was laughing.

“I like that you’ve given me a nickname. No one else does. It’s nice. Feels like …” Her eyes were pensive, and she shrugged, unable to think of a word. “I don’t know. But I like it.”

Veronica’s tone was light and airy, but Tia felt goosebumps spread on her neck and arms at the sound of her voice, and her chest fluttered, filled with sudden butterflies.

This moment felt pivotal, like a turning point.

Are we - catching feelings?

Sure, Veronica was interesting enough, and kind - if a little stubborn - and every time they had been alone together, they seemed to have an instinctual connection that Tia couldn’t explain. But it felt quite fast, and still, Tia wasn’t quite sure what Veronica was feeling for her.

After all, Tia thought to herself, I’m just a maths nerd who makes crap jokes sometimes.

“And this line …” Tia moved her thumb up over Veronica’s palm, “this is the … the Bakerloo line and it means … there is maintenance over the weekend so plan your journey well in advance.”

Veronica nearly choked on the mouthful of her drink, instantly breaking the spell. “That makes no sense at all! Anyway, I’m more interested in this one,” Veronica added, putting down her glass and pointing, “that’s the love line. I know that much. What does that one say?”

“I was just getting to that one. Save the best for last and all.” Tia feigned exasperation as Veronica’s face grew more and more red even under her makeup.

“Your love line is here,” Tia began, looking back at Veronica, staring enraptured at her hand in Tia’s, her smile a mile wide. “And it says that … you … I don’t know, you’re going to meet a tall, beautiful stranger.”

Tia meant that to be casual, but Veronica curled her fingers around the thumb that was still stroking her palm, and gave it a squeeze.

“Alright,” she said softly, “maybe palm reading isn’t all bollocks.”

——

Tia found that she hadn’t wanted Veronica to let go of her hand.

Luckily, Veronica didn’t seem to want to let go, either.

Tia wasn’t the biggest fan of physical contact, and she hadn’t thought Veronica was either, until this evening, as they walked home, hand in hand this time, after the wine was drained. One glass of wine each wasn’t enough to make either of them drunk, but both of them were light and happy, even as they got back to the halls.

“Thanks for asking me to come with you,” Veronica said, her smile lighting up the rest of her face.

“Vee, you don’t have to thank me. You’re … I don’t know.” Tia sighed. “It was a fun day.”

The hallway was quiet and dark. Ellie and Aurora were still out evidently, and in the half-light, Tia was conscious that Veronica still had her hand, a gesture that felt so familiar and so exposed for them both.

Tia cleared her throat. “Alright. Night then.”

Veronica nodded. “Night, Tia.”

Neither of them moved.

Tia hadn’t really noticed before how intense Veronica’s stare was, or how bright blue her eyes were underneath the layers of black eyeliner; but she felt it now even though it was getting dark; and it felt like Veronica was trying to tell her something, drawing her into her eyes.

Wait. This is uni. There’s no going home after a day out. We live here together. We can do what we want.

“I mean -“ Tia shifted from one foot to another. “We don’t have lectures tomorrow, it’s Sunday isn’t it? Or are you tired, do you want to get to sleep?”

“No, I’m not tired - what - what did you have in mind?”

“Finding Dory this time?”

“Can do,” Veronica tilted her head as if pondering the idea. “Yeah. You set up, I’ll take my makeup off.”

Within fifteen minutes they were both in their pyjamas, curled up together in Tia’s bed this time, passing Veronica’s Hobnobs between them. The tablet played Finding Dory, balanced on Tia’s knees. The night had turned colder and Tia had insisted on Veronica bundling under the covers with her.

Tia left her hand out of the covers, in full view, and Veronica took the cue, grabbing her hand and interlacing their fingers. The film didn’t last long before Tia became distracted by Veronica running her thumb over Tia’s knuckles, as if in a dream, not even looking at the screen any more.

As the film came to an end, Tia realised she barely remembered the plot at all. She and Veronica had curled into one another, Tia’s head resting on Veronica’s, still clasping her hand. They didn’t move, Tia feeling their breathing fall into rhythm, until she felt Veronica’s deepening and realised it was pretty late.

“Are you tired, Vee?” Tia whispered.

Veronica hummed, stretching out her legs and yawning. “Yeah, a bit. I should go to bed.”

Tia missed the warmth of Veronica from the bed, the steady weight of her hand, from the moment she’d slipped from under the covers; but she followed her out, getting up to go to the door and lock it.

“Well. Night, Tia.”

Veronica reached to hug Tia, who had to bend to reach her, being a good eight or nine inches taller than Veronica. But when the hug lasted much longer than expected, Tia didn’t complain.

Nor did she find it strange when she felt Veronica’s lips softly graze her cheek, right by her ear. It wasn’t a familiar, friendly kiss. It was curious, testing the waters, wondering if this was really happening.

Tia’s heart fluttered when she returned the kiss, again on Veronica’s cheek, as if to answer the question.

But when Veronica pulled away, her eyes were fearful all of a sudden, and she seemed to lose her nerve, spinning round to make a quick exit, slipping away without another word.

Tia locked the door, now humming the tune that Veronica had been humming all day to herself.

It isn’t The Cure. I know it too. God, what is it?

Tia had to hum a few more bars to herself before she finally recognised it, and started singing the chorus to herself.

‘I wanna ruin our friendship, we should be lovers instead.’

God, Tia thought to herself, not just me then.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #tia kofi #veronica green #tia x veronica #a'whora #tayce #uk2 #lesbian au #college au #fluff #hurt/comfort #juno

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Down with the Recipe, Bake from the Heart, 2/10 (Multi) - Juno

Chapter summary: It’s cake week, and the bakers have to deal with a fruity signature, a tangy technical, and a showstopper that should be child’s play. Surely nothing can go wrong. Meanwhile, Aurora is looking forward to cake week, and not just to see Tayce again, and Asttina has an admirer of her own.

A/N: Thank you for your support so far on this fic!! I hope you enjoy the second part of this.

WEEK 2: CAKE WEEK

Aurora knew cakes like the back of her hand.

Cake had been her gateway into baking as a teenager. Whenever she’d had a bad day at school, she could spend a couple of quid at the local Aldi on some filling ingredients, bring them home, find her nan’s flour, and bake them into something beautiful, something that everyone would love. Baking a cake would always be available to her to ground her, and to remind her that pouring positivity into things made them seem light as air.

Arriving for filming the second week was nowhere near as daunting as the first. Biscuit week had been a little bit of a concern for Aurora, whose biscuits tended to crumble as soon as she looked at them, but she forced herself not to think about it any more, pushing it to the past where it belonged. She came in now, her cake recipes in her head and on her paper, feeling better than she had all of last week.

I survived biscuit week. But I can really excel in cake week! This is exactly what I know. I can make a Vicky sponge in my sleep with one hand behind my back and a sleep paralysis demon on my chest. It’s mine to win.

As Pip had gone home at the end of the last episode, Aurora’s side of the desks had all been shuffled up by one person to account for that. Her side of the room now had Asttina at the front, then Ginny, Lawrence, Ellie, and finally Aurora on the fifth bench instead of the back.

Instead of being opposite Tayce, she was opposite Cherry this time. Their side was unchanged - Bimini at the front, then Joe, Tia, Veronica, Cherry, and Tayce at the back. Cherry’s pillar-box red KitchenAid gleamed in the sunlight - it was starting to get sunny again - and Aurora saw that her own was in similar condition, the turquoise colour as bright as if it was the first week again. Good as new.

She managed to calm her breathing, but her fingers still drummed on the workbench, and she couldn’t stop them for more than a few seconds.

I can do this. I can do this.

——

Signature: Fruit Cake

“For your Signatures this week,” Matt began, “the judges would like you to bake a fruit cake. Any fruit is allowed - “

“ - but no vegetables. We can’t have vegetables sneaking into the tent disguised as a fruit.”

“Maybe a tomato.”

“Matt, a tomato is technically a fruit, even if no one wants tomato cake.”

Aurora giggled at Matt and Noel’s back-and-forth, but really, she wanted to get on with her bake. All her baking knowledge felt like it had lodged herself at the very front of her mind, and any slight distraction could let it tumble back down again into the abyss, lost forever - or at least until the baking time was over.

When they finally announced “BAKE!” Aurora dove into her bag to grab her ingredients. Flour, butter, sugar, eggs. Flour, butter, sugar, eggs.

“What are you baking?” Ellie didn’t even last a minute this week before she had turned round to talk to Aurora, but she kind of wished she wouldn’t, from the amount she chatted last week after getting over her initial shyness. Aurora was trying to concentrate; she had to pour her whole focus into this, or it just wouldn’t taste good.

“Apple cake,” she said simply, wondering if Ellie would take the hint.

“Oh. I’m making rhubarb and custard!” Evidently Ellie hadn’t, and Aurora bit her tongue behind her forced smile. “That was my favourite when I was a kid, did you have lots of rhubarb and custard as well? This one time me and my brother …”

“Have you got nothing better to do than prattle on to Aurora?” Lawrence’s voice from the bench in front of them was even louder than Ellie’s, her hands on her hips as she swooped in to save the day, an unconventional Wonder Woman. “She’s trying to bake a cake, and so should you!”

“I am baking a cake -“

Ellie spun back to face Lawrence, and Aurora took the opportunity to make a quick getaway to the tea tent for a break. From her experience being behind Ellie last week, the woman could talk all day, and that wasn’t what Aurora needed, much as she had warmed to her.

By the time she’d poured herself a fresh brew, Ellie and Lawrence were both at Lawrence’s desk, apoplectic with laughter, faces and hands covered in flour, while the cameras had sprinted down to record this golden television moment.

Viewers tune in for baking and get a flour fight. And that’s why the nation loves this show.

——

“I’m gonna have to start again!”

That phrase was starting to sound like a broken record from Tia’s desk, on the other side. The woman might not normally be a disaster in the kitchen, but so far they’d done four challenges, and this was the third time she’d announced she was restarting. Her normally orange KitchenAid was splattered deep purple from the blackberries she’d somehow managed to spray all over the side in an effort to make jam. Some of it had even gone into the cake mixture, and she was running her fingers through her curly hair, turning to Veronica on the bench behind her and laughing dryly.

“What have you done?” Veronica’s tone always softened when Tia talked to her. That was something Aurora had already noticed, and it was … interesting, to say the least.

“Messed up my cake mix,” Tia shook her head, still laughing. “How long do we have left?”

Veronica looked at one of the five timers she’d set up. “An hour, twenty three minutes, and fifteen seconds - fourteen - thirteen -“

“Okay, okay!” Tia waved her hand. “Do you - d’you think I have time?”

“If you’re really precise,” Veronica nodded grimly, “then you should just about do it. You’ve done the jam, you’ve done the icing … you just have to bung the cakes into the freezer straight away so they have enough time to cool.”

“Oh, good.” Tia sighed. “Let’s hope I don’t mess it up again! Thanks, Vee.”

Veronica reserved her quota of smiles for Tia alone, so it seemed, because this smile was the first real one any of them had seen from Veronica. Nervous, pinched, but there it was all the same.

“Yeah,” Aurora called over to them, hoping to join in, “thanks Vee, and can you make it for Tia if she messes up the jam again?”

She’d meant it as a joke, good-natured, to try to brighten the anxiety forming a cloud between the two of them. It had the desired effect on Tia, whose expression slackened into an ironic grin; but Veronica’s face immediately became stony, her eyes surprisingly cold as she glared at Aurora, before turning back to her KitchenAid.

“It’s just a joke -”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t very funny.” Veronica snapped. “It’s not very nice to comment on things like that. Oh great - now I’ve over-weighed the sugar. Thanks, Aurora.”

Aurora opened her mouth to protest - Veronica’s implication felt unfair - but she was taken aback by the sound of gentle, muffled laughter; Tayce was still behind Cherry, a hand over her mouth, giggling to herself.

——

“I was laughing at Veronica! Blaming you for weighing out her own sugar wrong!” Tayce exclaimed as Aurora chewed her nail during the break before Technical.

“Maybe I went too far … maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“She’s just too sensitive.” Tayce flipped her hair behind her back. “Everyone could see you were just joking! Tia saw the funny side, and I bet Veronica’s probably already forgotten it. Forgive and forget, right? It’s just baking! It’s not all that serious!”

“Yeah but …” Aurora trailed off, looking over at the two of them, by the door to the outside, hovering as if trying to decide to go out.

Tayce chuckled. “And Tia’s got a few disasters under her belt, hasn’t she? The wagon wheels last week where all the chocolate melted? Her Signature this week? It’s only week two!”

Aurora opened her mouth, but closed it again.

This is how it all starts. One misunderstood joke, and suddenly I’m an evil bitch.

Cakes were meant to calm her, but suddenly cakes were linked to this show, and now intertwined with making another contestant upset. A golden opportunity to shed her still-lingering hometown reputation as a Bad Girl; scuppered before the end of the second week.

I may as well just get eliminated now.

Aurora broke away from Tayce to go to the table of cakes, where everyone’s was laid out in a row. Ginny and Bimini were standing there, Ginny piling a slice of Tia’s cake - which she’d called “Bananadrama cake” - on top of Bimini’s vegan orange cake, but both turned when Aurora approached.

“Hey!” Bimini said, grabbing her shoulder. “That apple cake you made, with the toffee apples on the top? That looked amazing. If it was vegan I’m sure I’d love it, but Gin said it was good!”

“It was a treat for the taste buds, Aurora, an absolute treat,” Ginny nodded, their eyes crinkling up kindly.

“Congratulations on getting the first Hollywood handshake, Ginny!” Aurora smiled mechanically, but Ginny’s smile spread from ear to ear. “I bet you’re never gonna wash your right hand ever again!”

“Definitely not,” Ginny nodded, holding up their right hand to their face and wiggling their fingers. “Not after I broke the seal on the Hollywood Handshakes, first one of the season! I hope they’re all talking about it on Twitter by now -“

“Will make a change from them talking about your obsession with lemons,” Bimini nudged them, causing Ginny to glare at them with mock disgust.

“Cheeky. My lemon drizzle Signature is a labour of love. You have no idea how long I spent perfecting that recipe, Bimini Bon Appetit.”

“You know what, Gin? I believe you.”

“Is there any of your lemon drizzle left?” Aurora asked.

“Yes! Fancy a sloooice?” Ginny yelled the last word in the same way she’d yelled it when she’d initially presented it to the judges.

“Erm, yeah I do!” Aurora grabbed the knife to cut herself a piece of Ginny’s handshake-worthy lemon drizzle cake, wondering if there was nothing that Ginny wouldn’t put lemon into if given the chance. Bimini stroked Ginny’s bag, putting their plate down.

“I love your bag, where did you manage to find a bag with the non-binary flag colours on it? I kept meaning to ask you last week, I saw it and I immediately went ‘Yes, another enby, the enby gods have smiled down on me’ and I wanted to know where you got that bag so I could get one of my own -“

“Oh, I didn’t buy it, bab, I crocheted it! I couldn’t find one that I liked so I had to make one, and it’s so good for finding other enbies out in the wild, it’s like a code, isn’t it!”

“Yeah definitely - look, if you crochet a lot, would you fancy making me a scarf with enby flag colours? I can pay you or give you bakes or something -“

“Oh Bimini Bab, don’t worry about that - I can do you one for next weekend if you want -“

Aurora decided to leave them to it, looking around the room for someone to talk to. Tayce was with Cherry and Joe again, and Tia and Veronica had been joined by Asttina, the three of them comparing something on their phones. Ellie was nowhere to be seen, which was a shame as Aurora was starting to feel a bond with her more than anyone else in the room.

But is that even real in itself?

That thought persisted, no matter how hard Aurora tried to quash it.

Everything’s just really distorted right now.

The actual filming of the episodes was being done on Saturdays and Sundays, and would be every weekend from now until the end of June, so it meant that they would all go back to their normal daily lives while the weeks were going on; back to work, back to friends and family, back to their routine.

It was as if they left the real world into a fantasy land for two days a week, a frenetic rollercoaster of baking and emotions, pressure and strangers, before being dropped back into the mundane weekday world, a reality where they were forbidden to disclose how they were all doing, or what they were all doing, every weekend.

There were eleven of them left on the competition, and it was only the second weekend of them filming so far. They’d known each other for just over a week, and spent almost three total days in each others’ pockets, surrounded by cameras and production crew and editors. But it was virtually impossible to get to know everyone here, to really know them, hard to read their intentions while filming was happening, because it was such a short but busy time they all had together. Because no matter how much they all smiled, how much they all laughed together - they were all here for one reason, and that was for themselves, to win.

That made the room feel still lonelier to Aurora, even filled with eleven people.

Take Ellie for instance. Ellie was always making conversation, and Aurora hoped they’d bonded; but then again Ellie was a trainee hairdresser, and it was probably part of her job to be able to chat. Tayce, her charming accent and witty smile aside, gave nothing away, and as much as Aurora’s stomach leapt somersaults when she was around her, Tayce was a complete mystery.

Looking around the room at everyone pairing off, the community here was more important than ever. It was a long filming schedule for just ten episodes, and the NDAs they’d all had to sign bound them together, keeping a juicy secret from the outside world.

At the same time, it was surreal.

Every word was emotive. Every sensation was deeper than normal. Every movement was significant …

But until the series aired on Channel 4, everything here was only as tangible as a dream.

——

Technical: 12 Jaffa Cakes

Jaffa Cakes? Fucking Jaffa Cakes?

Sure, Aurora had eaten them for years, but baking them? As far as Aurora was concerned, Jaffa Cakes were just a thing that came in a box, that probably grew on trees. The concept of baking them felt alien.

Focus. Calm.

But the basic instructions from Prue’s recipe might have been in Latin for all Aurora knew. And Aurora sure as hell didn’t know Latin.

She took less time than last week annotating, instead getting to work setting up the bain marie in a saucepan to melt the chocolate, tossing cake ingredients into the KitchenAid as she went, ignoring the crash as Joe’s baking tray went flying onto the next bench, where Ginny was glaring at her as she dramatically rolled her eyes and went to pick it back up.

She looked at the main timer she used. Twenty minutes had gone, which meant she was slightly ahead of her annotated schedule.

So far, so good.

But the issue came when the cake sponges were cooling.

“Aurora!” Ellie’s whisper was frantic as she turned to her bench, the panic in her voice making it impossible to ignore. “I’ll give you a can of my Monster if you tell me which way up these sponges are meant to be!”

As Aurora met her eyes, all memory of what a Jaffa Cake looked like evaporated, fizzing and floating away like steam.

Shit. She’s got a point. Which way up do they go?

She knew that one side was covered in chocolate and the marmalade jelly circles they’d all made, but which side?

“I don’t know, do I!” Aurora sighed, clutching her hair. “God, you just said that and now I can’t remember what a Jaffa Cake looks like and I’ve been eating them from the packets for years!”

“Same here!” Ellie muttered.

Aurora caught sight of Tayce’s head jerking up out of the corner of her eye, curiously watching them both, but she forced herself to concentrate on the matter at hand.

“If we do it this way,” Ellie turned one of the sponges she’d made upside down, “there’s less room for the jelly, but the discs fit perfectly, and there’s more room for the chocolate, is that right?”

“Uhm,” Aurora murmured, wracking her brains. “I think - maybe, yeah - you’re right I think …”

Across the room, she saw Cherry, who had already turned hers upside down and was already halfway through putting the chocolate and marmalade jelly on them. Joe, a few rows in front of her, was also turning hers over and over, frowning.

But as Ellie turned her cake again, the right way up, Aurora could practically see a lightbulb light in her head; her eyes widening and her mouth dropping in realisation.

“No! It’s the right way up! Because it’s a flat tray! For the jelly! And the chocolate kind of spreads to the edges, doesn’t it? Like, over the sponge too. Right? Please tell me I’m right, Rory,” Ellie pleaded.

Aurora wasn’t sure what to think. “I’m not sure now. Some people are doing them upside down, and they look …”

“No, I’m sure I’m right,” Ellie nodded, grimly determined suddenly. “Trust me on this. They’re meant to be the right way up.” She nodded again, putting the baking tray and the sponge down again. “Here, have a Monster.”

Aurora frowned as she took it. “Mango Loco?”

“Of course! What else?”

The way Ellie was looking at her, she might have sprouted another head. Aurora opened the can and took a swig, praying to the Monster gods that Ellie wasn’t trying to trick her and that the energy drink would give her the final push.

——

“Thank you!”

Aurora had taken half a step into Carr Hall after the Technical challenge winner’s interview was over, only to be engulfed by Hurricane Ellie, all six feet of her, dragged into a very fluffy pink hug against the fake fur of the jacket she wore.

She shook Ellie off, laughing. “Oh, it’s alright love, you’re the one who figured it out without me, don’t worry - “

“I was so nervous for Technical!” Ellie’s voice was so loud that Aurora winced in discomfort. “I came eleventh last week! And now I’m third! I could cry! But you - God, you came top! Oh god I’m sorry! Congratulations on coming top!”

Aurora couldn’t hold back the grin. She had to admit, she felt pretty smug about coming top in the second Technical challenge, especially having been seventh the previous week. It just showed that she had lots to offer to the show and the judges. Her heart was hammering, although whether that was with elation or electrolytes, she was uncertain.

“Well done, Aurora.” She turned to face Asttina’s cool smile and steady gaze, accepting the handshake she offered. “Your Jaffa Cakes looked amazing. Really nice one. I can’t wait to try one.”

Aurora just returned her smile. Something about Asttina made her lose her tongue, maybe the formal, business-like way she went about her bakes, or her polite, reserved manner of speech. Aurora didn’t feel that she knew much about her yet - not enough to fill in the gaps in her head about Asttina.

“Congratulations, bab,” Ginny sidled up to her next, giving her a grin. Bimini followed them, holding the narrow bottle of limoncello that Ginny had been liberally adding to their lemon drizzle cake earlier, both of them swigging from it.

“Thanks Gin!”

“Nice one, Aurora,” Tia was next, her easy smile matching her eyes as she rubbed Aurora’s shoulder. “Your Signature was so good too, you deserved to get top in Technical this week!”

And Aurora immediately felt another twinge of guilt for her words earlier. Tia radiated sincerity, probably the only person in the room whose whole demeanour was relaxed and genuine. A lump rose in her throat and Aurora found her words stuck at it.

She just nodded, smiling, before she took the opportunity to move out the way to the cake table, wondering if she fancied another slooice of Ginny’s handshake-winning lemon drizzle cake before it was all gone, when she felt long cool fingers at her shoulder and turned to meet Tayce’s brown eyes.

“Good job in Technical today,” she murmured, a smile tugging at her lips.

Tayce’s low voice, and that accent, started off the butterflies in Aurora’s stomach once more, along with a tingling dancing up her spine. Last week it had been a pleasant addition to being here, having such a stunning contestant opposite her, but this week, Aurora found that the nearer Tayce was to her, the less Aurora was able to form coherent words.

“Thanks,” she heard herself say after what seemed like an eternity of a pause.

“Did much better than me. Seventh! Like we switched positions, eh?”

“Seems like it!” Aurora’s face was getting warmer and warmer, and she resumed prayer to the Monster gods that she wasn’t blushing -

“Anyway. Congratulations, A’Whora.”

“A’Whora! Bloody cheek!” Aurora slapped her playfully on the arm, and Tayce smiled as she wandered away, leaving Aurora to join Bimini and Ginny, as they curled up on the sofa together.

“You know who I’m enjoying seeing here every week?” Ginny muttered, dropping their voice to ensure no one else overheard.

“Who?”

“Asttina.” Ginny rested their chin in their hands, elbows on their knees as they gazed wistfully around the room.

Aurora followed their gaze to Asttina, who was chatting to Ellie, a hand on her forearm.

“I don’t really know much about Asttina,” Aurora admitted in a soft voice. “She hasn’t really spoken to me much yet, and she just seems kind of … aloof.”

But Ginny shook their head. “I’ve met her before at charity bakes in Birmingham. She does a lot of these kinds of charity bake offs, you have to put on a certain persona for that - and yeah, maybe she’d brought it to the contest here a bit - but honestly, once you get past that, she’s lovely.”

Asttina was pulling Ellie over to Tia and Veronica on the other side of the room, her smile genuine and her eyes crinkling at the corners, as happy as Aurora had seen her yet.

“Charity bakes? For contests and stuff?” Aurora asked.

“Sometimes. Have you seen her Instagram? I was looking at her page before we even all came to the show, for inspiration for something for my birthday - not that I enjoy getting older but we all enjoy cake! And she made one with some weird flavour combo - can’t remember - and I messaged her about it, and she just came back with it fell to bits after this photo, give it a miss - and I couldn’t stop laughing!”

“What kinds of things does she bake?” Bimini asked.

“All sorts, bab - anything you could ask for and more. But the flavours she was using! Oh my days - the things she’s tried and made work - she’s a genius, I’ll tell you that. She’s gonna go to the end.”

“Yeah,” Bimini murmured, their eyes hooked on Asttina as she crossed the room to the table, looking over the Jaffa Cakes for one to try. “Yeah, hopefully.”

Aurora looked from Asttina to Bimini, their chin cupped in their hand, not tearing their eyes away from Asttina, smiling a soft smile.

“Bimini,” Aurora said, but Bimini didn’t look away.

“Bim!” She nudged them, and Bimini blinked, evidently coming back into the room from cloud nine.

“Yeah - yeah, I know.”

Ginny raised their eyebrows, letting out a low whistle. “Are we gonna have our first Bake Off romance on the cards? Sorry, second? Can’t forget Blu and Cheryl last year.”

“Nah, not likely.” Bimini shook their head. “Not on the show anyway. Too much like hard work, innit, trying to balance getting to ask someone out with baking.”

“So, like, how many of us here are queer?” Aurora asked. “Do you know?”

“No,” Ginny shook their head, “but from what I’ve heard so far, a fair few - I’m pan, you’re a lesbian aren’t you Aurora? I’ve seen your pin - and I know Asttina has the bi flag on her instagram page, Tia and Veronica obviously like women as well -“

“What about Tayce, Gin?” Bimini asked slyly. “I think that’s what Aurora wanted to know.”

“Wait, wait, hold on,” Aurora held her hand up, trying to get them off Tayce. “What do you mean, Tia and Veronica obviously like women as well … what have I missed?”

Ginny pursed their lips, and Bimini chuckled.

“Let’s just say they’re getting pretty close.”

——

Showstopper: A children’s dream birthday cake with at least two different sponge flavours and three layers.

Aurora wasn’t going to let anyone stop her today. The Star Baker title and the cake-shaped badge was hers for the winning. Top in Technical, good critiques in Signature - she knew the judges would be talking about her as one of the top bakers in line for Star Baker this week.

She cast her gaze round the room, wondering who else was in line.

Veronica, for sure. She’d come second in Technical for the second week in a row, and her Signature pineapple and coconut cake had been praised. Much as Aurora hated to admit, Veronica was a great baker.

Ginny too, was probably in line for Star Baker, with their Hollywood Handshake from yesterday. They still looked smug, running a hand through their yellow hair and giggling to themselves.

It was probably between the three of them to win.

But as she carried on around the room Aurora’s eyes narrowed pensively as they fell on Ellie, right in front of her. She’d come third in Technical, and the rhubarb and custard cake had … actually had pretty good feedback as well.

Maybe it’s a four-horse race. Ellie’s a bit of a dark horse though.

“Have fun with the bake today,” Prue told them all, the familiar twinkle in her eye as she spoke. “Give us plenty of flavours and let your imaginations run wild. Remember, the bake has to be worth the calories.”

Veronica’s mouth was set in a thin line as she placed all her cake tins and containers in a line, licking her lips as she concentrated on setting all five stopwatches on her bench. Tia, by contrast in front of her, was piling her ingredients onto the workbench, muttering loudly to herself and causing the cameramen to run to her side and film her as she talked nonsense as usual.

It was an uneventful start. But something was bound to happen, and when Cherry passed Aurora’s workbench, she hovered, motioning pointedly with her gaze outside towards the tea tent outside; and Aurora turned off her KitchenAid for a second to follow Cherry over there and grab a mug as if to make tea.

“Joe’s pre-bought her fondant.”

“What?” Aurora put a hand to her mouth.

“I said to her - I was walking past her to get to Bimini’s workbench - and I saw her unrolling it. And I said, just jokingly, did you get that from Tesco’s, and get this - she leaned towards me,” Cherry mimicked Joe’s lean, putting a hand to the side of her mouth, “and she just whispered, ‘M&S’!”

“No!” Aurora’s eyes widened, her head shaking, but Cherry was nodding, licking her lips.

“I - well, I still am speechless!” Cherry’s eyes were alight, her glee as always seemingly awakened by gossip, but Aurora wasn’t sure what she’d do with this information. Was Cherry about to tell the judges? Should she do it instead? Was it any of their business at all?

Cherry didn’t give any clues away when they went back to the tent either, sipping her tea, greeted by the sound of Tia announcing she had to start again. Veronica was running over to see what she’d done now, probably to try to fix it again.

But Aurora had her own issues. The cake mix, still in the KitchenAid, had flattened decidedly while she had been away.

She turned the whisk on, but she could not persuade the mixture to aerate, no matter how hard she whisked.

“Fuck,” she muttered, angry tears stinging the backs of her eyes. “Am I gonna have to do a Tia?”

One more minute. It may still be salvageable, come on cake, come on -

After three more minutes of whisking, Aurora rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and took the bowl off the stand, emptying the mixture into the bin.

“You starting again?” That was Noel’s voice, and a cameraman beside her, and Aurora was temporarily blinded by Noel’s brightly-painted outfit, obviously his own design, bold patterns and neon colours.

“Yeah, gonna have to aren’t I? It went flat.”

“You’ve got this, alright?”

Noel’s smile and tone were light and airy, not really with any substance.

That was how Aurora wanted her cake, not her support.

She closed her eyes, allowed her breathing to settle, then leaned forwards, a lump forming in her throat as she gathered fresh ingredients and set back to work all over again on the cake mixture.

As the whisk was whirring for her second time, she glanced up in awe at Ellie’s which was just coming out of the oven, smelling divine; and over at Veronica’s, already partly formed out of a green grass stand. Aurora blinked back the tears, seeing her chances of becoming Star Baker this week starting to fade away.

She glanced at Tayce.

And although part of Aurora wanted nothing more than to look at Tayce, watch Tayce bake all day, listen to her speak all day, as the tingling feeling ran down her spine … another part of her was infuriated by how relaxed Tayce was, nonplussed by everything around her.

It was difficult to make head or tail of what Tayce was thinking. Right now, she was holding up a layer of cake, and slicing into it with a palette knife, trying to carve a shape; looking up only to grin at Noel as he approached her for some banter for the television.

Aurora wanted to go over and see what she was making, but she didn’t want to have to restart again, so she turned her eyes to the KitchenAid and tried to tune out everyone else in the room.

——

One thing no one had prepared any of the bakers for was that judging for the Showstoppers was terrifying.

Watching it on the telly made it look like everyone was judged in a single minute, and everything was smooth and light and relaxed. In reality, everyone stood there for a good five minutes each at least, feeling all eyes in the room on them from their fellow contestants as well as the judges, and with lifting and carrying times it meant they were all dead on their feet by the end.

Aurora was right at the end of the pack, being in the position she was in - on the right, at the back.

So she had to wait past everyone getting pulled up in order.

Bimini and Asttina, both on the front two rows, both getting good feedback on flavours but mediocre feedback on the aesthetic of their respective cakes. Joe was next, and Cherry’s news turned out to be true, with Joe openly admitting to the judges that her fondant was pre-bought from M&S.

Ellie gave an audible inhale.

“What’s up?” Aurora whispered as loudly as she could.

“You’re not meant to do that!” Ellie whispered back.

Ginny was told that while their lemon cake was delicious, doing a lime-flavoured layer was probably not a wise choice, and she needed to not do lemon every single time. Veronica and Lawrence were both praised, even though they’d made similar cakes in the shape of train sets, the second time they’d done a similar design to each other.

Ellie’s hand shook where it rested on Aurora’s workbench, as she stared glassy-eyed outside the clear panel of the tent. And even though Aurora tried to remind herself that this show was full of people who just wanted to win a competition, seeing Ellie’s fear made her chest ache. Aurora reached forward to rest a hand atop hers, and Ellie blinked, swallowing, still staring straight ahead.

“You’ll do great,” she whispered, and Ellie nodded stiffly, her hand quivering in Aurora’s.

Tia’s cake was next. The game of Operation which was starting to crumble and fall apart as Matt Lucas helped her to carry it to the table, was called the best lemon and poppy seed cake Prue had ever had.

When Ellie was called after that, and Aurora got a better look at her cake, she didn’t know why Ellie was worrying; she’d made a beautiful and intricate pink castle, complete with towers, detailed brick patterns, and a little portcullis; but when she got it to the judges table, the judges were sniggering quietly behind her.

“Me and my brother, we always had just one plain cake between us on our birthday, nothing to make it that personal for either of us, that way it was fair,” Ellie explained, cupping her elbows in her hands. “But if I’d not been a twin, this would have been my dream cake. A huge pink castle.”

Cherry’s eyes widened from the other side of the room, clapping a hand to her mouth; and Aurora finally spotted it. The pink towers with the purple rooftops, standing out from the rest of the cake …

They look a bit … questionable, Aurora thought.

By now everyone was sniggering to themselves, apart from Lawrence, whose face was in her hands; when she raised her head, Aurora could see she was trying not to laugh too.

Aurora chanced a glance at Tayce, finding that she wasn’t laughing much either, a cool indifference behind her eyes. But she wasn’t looking at Ellie. She was looking straight at Aurora herself, before turning her eyes away back to the front.

Tayce’s turn had come, and Tayce had presented the owl she’d made to be told that her bake was good, but her design wasn’t up to parr. And Aurora’s judging was as expected - she was praised on her buttercream, but she hadn’t left the sponges in long enough, worrying she was running short on time; so she’d removed them early to cool; and they’d come out a bit dense as a result.

That’s probably cost me the Star Baker badge. But I probably won’t be going home at least.

It was disappointing. Cakes were her forte, cakes were what she knew best.

But it doesn’t mean I’m a bad baker, she said firmly to herself. I just had a less-than-perfect bake. I am not my art.

She breathed out her worries, knowing there was nothing more she could do now that judging was over, and left the tent with the others to the outside area, where the chairs had been set up. It was still sunny, although clouds were drifting over and the early evening chill was starting to pinch in the air.

Aurora flopped down on the seat next to Tayce, sighing heavily.

“Mine was alright, I think,” she said, “and Paul loved my Italian meringue buttercream.”

Tayce nodded, but her expression remained the same; staring towards the tent, her eyes distant and pensive.

“I can’t believe that Joe actually told the judges that she’d bought the fondant from M&S! Do you think that’s true? If so - I mean, she won’t be staying until next week if she’s done that, will she?”

Tayce carried on nodding, her face flat, the distance between them growing with every second that passed.

Aurora sighed. “I don’t think I’ll get Star Baker this week though, even though I came top in Technical. They all loved Ellie’s cake, didn’t they?”

That was the first motion Aurora saw; Tayce’s jaw tensed for a split second, her eyes narrowing just a fraction as she continued her slow, rhythmic nodding.

“That cake was something else,” Aurora said dreamily, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

“Maybe you should talk to her about it, then.”

With that low, cool sentence, Tayce stood up and made her way towards Carr Hall, not even turning around to see Aurora’s confused expression growing more so with every step she took.

—-

Inside, the tent was still stiflingly hot as Noel announced Ellie as the shock winner. Ellie put her hands to her face, while Asttina, sitting on her right, wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her towards her for a gracious cuddle.

Matt had to announce the person leaving, but no one was surprised that Joe’s name was called, not even Joe herself. She stood from her position between Ginny and Bimini, both of them clutching one of her hands each, and gave her infamous cackle, blowing them all a kiss and leaving the tent behind to go to her exit interview.

“Well done, Els,” Aurora murmured, as Ellie bent down to hug her, wiping tears away from the corners of her eyes with her thumbs.

Over her shoulder, Aurora caught Tayce staring at her for a split second before she turned away, following Joe out of the tent, presumably back to Carr Hall to collect her things for the week ahead.

Those same thoughts from the previous day were running circles in her mind. She only saw Tayce at weekends, in a very enclosed environment, and although last week they’d exchanged some kind words, and Tayce had held her hand, did it mean they were bonding?

Ellie let Aurora go, moving to hug someone else, but Aurora carried on looking at the exit, trying to decipher what had made Tayce turn cool this week.

Her hand in Aurora’s had been more welcome than Aurora had expected last week, a faint thrill up her spine as she remembered it. But this week they’d barely spoken, and Aurora struggled to figure out why; until she heard Ellie’s laughter as she hugged Lawrence, who tilted her chin up to rest on her shoulder, pouring words of affirmation into Ellie’s ear.

Is - is Tayce really that annoyed? Because she didn’t win?

——

TEN BAKERS REMAIN

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