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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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mcwriting · 6 years

Text

Attention

Sooooo… this is loosely based on Attention by Charlie Puth but it’s not a songfic. A Tom Holland AU where he lives in LA and yeah. More description below in the background section.

Fandom: Marvel-ish bc Tom is Spiderman, even though i should just start saying Tom Holland lol

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Setting: A random club in LA

Word Count: 2,546

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, some dirty dancing, and flirting. Nothing too heavy imo

Rating: T (?)

Background: So, like I said, it’s a sort-of AU where Tom has been dating a girl and taking her to the same club in LA for months before they break up and this one-shot ensues. Reader is the bartender (probably around 23 lol) and it eventually becomes Tom x reader (bear with me).

---

They were an interesting couple to begin with.

Tom Holland and his girlfriend had been coming to the same club ever since you had been working as a bartender, which was a job you had started 6 months before in January.

Your new job was at a popular (and very exclusive) club in LA that was known for its frequent celebrity visitors. You were young, and had only gotten the job because you had recently won a bartending competition, which definitely made your resume stick out. After the first three days you had stopped getting starstruck when some famous person or another walked through the doors. Your composed demeanor to the celebrities (and incredibly good looks) had caused you to be well revered by some of them, and they often hung by your end of the bar when they came.

Tom and his girl had been “frequent flyers,” if you will, to the club and came every Friday and Saturday night.

Until they didn’t.

For the first five months, you watched them enter every weekend, her dressed in a different skimpy outfit each time you saw her and him usually skinny jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket.

He came up to you on your second night on the job.

“Never seen you here before. New?” he asked coolly. You were starstruck at first. This was a celebrity you were actually a pretty big fan of, not to mention that you had just the slightest crush on him.

“It’s my second night, actually,” you replied casually as you toweled off a glass you had used to shake a cocktail right before.

He gave a warm smile and thought about his next words.

“Welcome, then. What’s your favorite drink?”

“For myself?” you questioned, to which he answered with a nod. “Well I’ve always like harder alcohols myself. It isn’t often that you’ll catch me with some fruity drink like the ones I make for those crazy party girls out here. I will say that a classic gin and tonic is my go-to, though.”

“Well that makes two of us, though my girlfriend is one of those girls that are into the fruity things,” he finished with a sarcastic tone.

“So what would you like then?”

“How ‘bout a gin and tonic for myself, and then surprise me with my girlfriend’s, she won’t know the difference. She asks me to choose for her and I couldn’t care less,” he chuckled, leaning his elbows over the bar.

You quickly made up the drinks and slid them over to the Brit across from you.

“Thanks, love. Feel free to put it on my tab.”

He started to walk away when he paused and turned back quickly.

“I didn’t seem to catch your name. Would you mind sharing it?”

“Y/n. Nice to meet you Mr. Holland.”

“Oh please, call me Tom. But same to you, y/n.”

With that, he had walked away, and for the next five months he came to be a friend of sorts, coming to you to get the same thing every weekend (“a gin and tonic and whatever you think she’ll like this time”) and sharing a conversation about one thing or another while you tended.

It all changed about the fourth month.

While Tom had still been bringing his girlfriend on the regular every Friday and Saturday, he had begun to seem less interested when he entered the club and slightly irritable to his girlfriend. When you overheard her ask to come and order a drink with him, he waved her off and told her he wanted to come alone before walking over to you. His demeanor seemed to soften when he saw you, but you could tell his attitude was different than normal.

It kept going like this for another three weeks before one Friday they just didn’t show up.

It was the next day that you heard through the grapevine that he had dumped her on Thursday and she was devastated.

Three more weeks went by and nothing. Gossip mags and websites had had their heyday with the couple for about four days after the breakup until they found a new Hollywood story to focus on. Rumors raged from “Holland’s had it!” to “Is she actually pregnant?” You had even heard a small rumor that the two of you had been secretly dating (but that one never took off… thankfully)

Then one Monday night, she showed up.

Another skimpy, sequin-y dress and impossibly high heels like the ones she used to wear for Tom. She was alone and obviously tipsy already, which made you almost audibly groan when she stumbled towards you.

“Heeey… uh hehe, you’rrrre the one who made me drinkss, right?” she slurred, leaning over the bar giggling.

You felt uncomfortable, knowing she had had a quite a few too many before showing up. You looked around, trying to spot a bouncer. Usually you weren’t one to get a girl kicked out, unless she was violent of course, but you were already kind of annoyed with her and how uneasy she had made Tom in the end of their relationship.

You locked eyes with one of the bouncers you had become really good friends with and tipped your head back to signal him over. He rushed to you and you did your “secret hand signal” that meant you needed to talk to him. You whispered “Lead her away, don’t draw too much attention. She showed up drunk if you couldn’t tell.”

He did as asked and you sighed with relief, and you were happy to see her leave later that night around the same time your shift ended.

Until she showed up again on Thursday.

And Friday.

And Saturday.

For three more weeks, every Thursday-Monday she would come and party, sometimes drunk, other times ready to get drunk.

And then one Tuesday night, Tom showed up with his best friend and roommate Harrison and a few other guys. You saw the surprise and delight on his face when your eyes met his. You watched him signal to his friends that he’d be right back and he weaved his way through the dance floor to you.

“Oh my God, y/n! You’re still here!” He exclaimed with a wide smile.

“Sometimes unfortunately, but yeah, I am. Your usual? Well, minus the surprise drink?” you questioned. His face dropped a little and he thought about his reply.

“Whiskey. Rocks.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

“Wow, hitting the big ones now, huh?”

“I need it. I’m fed up with everything that’s been going on with… her.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked innocently. “I thought that all finally blew over?”

He leaned forward before whispering, “Has she been here?”

“What?”

“You know, has she been here? To party?”

You didn’t want to lie to him, but you also knew giving away her weekend activities to someone else could get you in trouble at work. His pleading eyes made you finally give in and you groaned.

“Fine. Yeah, she has. Every weekend she shows up either drunk or trying to be.”

It was his turn to groan now with an exaggerated lean backwards.

“She’s been showing up to just about every party and club in L.A. looking for me. All she wants is attention…” he trailed as you poured his amber drink.

You chuckled as you set the glass in front of Tom, who was looking down at his hands resting on the bar’s edge.

“Well, I’m not one for gossip, but from what I’ve heard, she’s been throwing down some real crap on your name. I don’t listen to any of it or really know what she’s said, but I guess she’s been roasting you pretty hard around here.”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes, explaining that she has never been rejected before and clearly didn’t know how to handle it. He threw back his whiskey in one swift motion and set the tumbler back on the bar for you to wash.

“Thanks for the vent, y/n. Good to see you. I hope this will all be over soon and you and I can just be bar buddies again.” he commented. And with that, he walked off with a small wave to his guys.

A couple nights later, a Thursday, he returned with only Harrison. They beelined for you and you finally met the infamous best friend to Tom Holland.

You failed to remember, of course, that the girl had been frequenting Thursday nights. At least, until it was too late.

Some people froze upon sight of her. This was the first time the two of them had been seen in the same building in almost two months, and you didn’t notice her until it was too late to warn Tom. You reached to point when suddenly,

“Oh, Tommy!” she cooed, standing only a few feet behind him.

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips into a thin line before turning slowly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, obvious strain in his voice.

“Oh, come on, baby. What do you think I’m doing here? I was looking for you silly!”

She slinked up to him and placed a newly manicured hand over his chest. Her gold dress dipped so low on her chest that you wanted to call her out on public indecency, and the hem barely reached the tops of her thighs. You also couldn’t help but notice the strong perfume emitting from her body, overwhelming your nostrils.

“You need to leave. You’re drunk and we aren’t together anymore,” Tom muttered through gritted teeth.

“Baby, look at me. I did this all for you. Can’t you tell I still want you?”

“You just want me in your bed tonight. You really think I don’t know about all the dirt you’ve thrown on my name? Nice try.” He said angrily, pushing her hands off his body.

“Tom it’s more than that! I still love you and want us to be together!”

“Look: no matter what you think you’re doing, I’m not taking you home. I’m not getting back together with you. You just want attention, not me. And I realize that you hate the idea of me dating other people or even just getting over you, but I was serious a month-and-a-half ago when we broke up. It’s over.” He was loud enough now that people nearby could hear, too.

“Well fine then! Have fun knocking up the bartender you’ve been sooooooo close with the past few months! And don’t you even think about coming back to me when you decide she’s useless!”

Cue the collective gasp across the club. She smirked to herself, obviously proud of what she had done, and looked between you and Tom. With that, she turned on her heel and sauntered out of the place, never to be seen there again.

All eyes were now on you and your face burned. People didn’t think you and Tom were really together, did they? You glanced down at your watch and was happy to see that your shift was coming to a close, so you quickly untied your apron and muttered,

“It’s time for me to go. See you around Tom… maybe.” You rushed to the employee lounge in the back and quickly punched out. You didn’t really have a reason to feel this way, but you felt your eyes burn, threatening to spill tears.

You stepped out the back door when a familiar voice called your name.

“Y/n please! Stop!” Tom was yelling, rushing towards you. The guard outside the door stepped in front of you. He, too, was a friend, and was great at scaring off people when needed.

“Please, sir. Ms. Y/n is off the clock and headed home. I suggest you do the same.”

“He’s fine,” you explained, stepping out from behind the guard. “What do you want, Tom? I realize what just happened back there, but I don’t need you to save me. We’re very different people, and you said yourself that you just wanted to be bar buddies. I’m pretty sure ‘bar buddies’ doesn’t carry over into our personal lives.”

You marched off to your car, unsure of where this sudden burst of anger was coming from, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you around.

“Y/n, just please hear me out!” He let go of your wrist when you exhaled and nodded. “Here’s the deal. You’re really cool, and funny, and beautiful. I was afraid to tell you this, but there’s a reason I broke up with my girlfriend, and it’s not just that she’s terrible. I broke up with her because I like you. A lot.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. One of Hollywood’s favorite young stars, who was incredibly hot nonetheless, was telling you that you were the reason he broke up with his A-list girlfriend. This couldn’t be real.

“Stop trying to spare my feelings, Tom. What happened in the club was embarrassing, but you can’t let what she said rule your decisions.”

“Y/n. I’m serious. I’ve had a crush on you since April.”

It was mid July.

“You two started fighting in April.” you retorted, not sure what to say.

“My point exactly.”

Your world seemed to crash down on you and your heartbeat quickened. He was joking right? All of those flirty winks he gave and the fact that he hung out with you more that month than his girlfriend was just friendly, right? But it wasn’t. He was being serious, and you could see it in his eyes.

“Tom, I…”

“Don’t. Just let me have this.” He whispered, a hand reaching up to brush your cheek. You involuntarily leaned into it, his warm touch sending fire through your body. You looked him in the eyes and nodded, knowing what was coming next.

His lips met yours and it was like nothing you had ever experienced or imagined. You wanted to stay in this moment forever, but the two of you finally broke apart.

You heard a sniffle and some applause to the right of you, which caused both of you to snap away and look in that direction.

“I’m sorry, but it’s just so beautiful!” your security guard friend cried. Had he been there the whole time? Yeah, probably. But that didn’t matter now, what mattered was this moment. Tom. You. That’s what mattered.

A few weeks later…

So now, it’s a routine. Tom goes off to film in the mornings and meets you for lunch every day before you head off to the club. Most nights when he can, he shows up and sits on one of the barstools watching you do your job of shaking cocktails, blending margaritas, pouring the occasional whiskey or brandy, and popping caps off of beers. Sometimes he drinks, but usually he just sits contently, admiring you for your personality and looks.

He announced your relationship on Instagram a few nights after everything happened, when you went on your first date. Tabloids exploded when they caught wind of the situation, and people often came to the club just to get one of your drinks and meet you.

You were an interesting couple to begin with, but one thing was for sure, you weren’t in it for the attention.

---

A/N: So I’m not super happy with the ending, but I hope you enjoy this. I started writing this like… November 11 and today it’s December 18… whoops. I’ve got other things in my drafts that I need to work on over Christmas break, so hopefully I’ll be able to publish those soon. As always, my asks are always open if you have a request or just want to ask something :)

#attention #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #marvel #MARVEL FANDOM #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #one-shot #100

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lolcat76 · 7 years

Note

There's this Hallmark movie called I Married Who? where Kellie Martin wakes up the morning after her Las Vegas bachelorette party accidentally married to a famous movie star and I'm not saying you should write it as a Bill and Laura AU I'm just saying I WOULD NOT STAND IN YOUR WAY

@okaynextcrisis, I can’t see Bill or Laura being amovie star, but sweet Billy deserves to have some fun, right?

Of all the messes she’d cleaned upfor Billy, this had to be the worst, and that was saying something.

He was a sweet kid. A sweet, stupidkid. A sweet, stupid kid who couldn’t hold his damn liquor and couldn’t say noto a pretty girl, and that’s why she was waiting impatiently for him in thelobby of the Wynn at 8am.

He called her in a panic four hoursago, waking her in the middle of a wonderful dream about a cabin on acrystal-clear lake and a world without cellphones, and she was half-tempted toquit before she answered his call.

More than half when she found outthe reason for the call. He was a sweet, stupid kid who’d gotten married inVegas. Dammit, Billy. He’d promisedher that he was going up to his suite right after he finished his drink, andthat was the only reason she’d left him unattended at the pre-awards VIP party.It was late, she was tired, and she had a book that promised a much betterevening than babysitting her client. Even if he was her favorite client. Sweet, stupid kid.

She didn’t get paid enough forthis. She didn’t even want to ask for the details, but she had to so that she could fix it.

“Her name is Dee, and she’s beautiful,but Laura…I didn’t mean to get married.”

Of course he didn’t. He didn’t meanto get a very visible tattoo of a starlet he took out on one date, or get in abar fight with a surly costar at the opening of a club in Hollywood, or getarrested for public drunkenness after the Golden Globes, but he didnonetheless, and she was always the first person he called.

Every time she answered a phonecall from Billy Keikeya, she was reminded of how happy she was to not havechildren. And reminded that she could probably retire off of what he paid herafter each spectacular screw-up and never look back.

Still, he was a sweet kid. Shedidn’t want to leave him high and dry, married to some stranger and probably onthe hook for more alimony than even he could afford once the girl’s parents gotwind of just who exactly theirdarling daughter married in the middle of the night in some seedy Vegas chapel.

She could just picture them, fadedflannel, beat-up pickup truck and shotguns at the ready, chasing Billy down theStrip and demanding that he do right by their daughter. Oh, she needed a raise.It was going to be a long morning.

She hoped the worst she’d face wasangry parents. It was Vegas, though, and Billy was a stupid kid, and she’d lefthim alone in the hotel at midnight with a fistful of bills and absolutely nocommon sense. He might have met some wayward bachelorette party bride withsomething to prove, or he might have taken home an escort.

She did not get paid enough for this. Laura was supposed to get him to thehotel and make sure he made it to the MGM Arena in time for the People’s ChoiceAwards. She was not supposed to bail him out of a quickie marriage.

And yet, here she was. Laura wasmore than a little shocked when she met the happy couple in the lobby for breakfast,Billy clutching the girl’s hand. She was pretty and had a ready smile, but sohad the last 20 or so women who had staked a claim on her client.

Of course, the last 20 or so womenwho’d spent some time with Billy didn’t bring backup, but this girl did. He wasglowering over Billy’s shoulder, as well as he could given that he was a goodsix inches shorter than Billy, but he sure as hell was making his point withthose piercing blue eyes of his. He was sizing her up, and she could tell thathe found her lacking. She smoothed down her skirt and pasted her PR smile onher face before she caught herself.

It was 8am, and her client was apain in the ass, and why was she mentally apologizing to this man? He should beapologizing to her.

“Bill Adama,” the man said, holdingout his in a polite greeting.

He didn’t look like an angry father,or a greasy Vegas pimp. He looked like a battle-weary soldier, his pants andshirt pressed in precise angles.

He didn’t look like a pimp,exactly, but it was Vegas. In thistown, khaki pants with well-pressed seams were hardly a measure ofrespectability.

“Laura Roslin,” she said as shetook his hand, shaking it firmly. “Billy is my client.”

“Dee is mine,” he said.

So he was a pimp.

“She has an interview and a photoshoot today, and she’s…not looking her best. Also, I had a very carefullyprepared list of topics to discuss, and a new husband wasn’t one of them.”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t a pimp. Did strippers have interviews? Was she being anasshole for questioning whether or not strippers had interviews? Probably, yes,but she had to look out for her client, since his starry-eyed stare at Deeindicated that he was most definitely not looking out for himself.

Wait…Dee? Her job didn’t leave hermuch time to watch television, but on second look, she was sure that sherecognized Dee… Anastasia Dualla, the girl who was starring on some low-rated cableshow. Zombies, or vampires, or something. It wasn’t Stranger Things or Game ofThrones, but it was enough to earn her an invite to the whatever choiceawards Billy was attending this weekend.

She recognized Dee, and then sherecognized the man with Dee. Oh, God. She was on some Disney Channel show. Fora second, Laura fought back a laugh. Her job may suck, but at least she didn’thave to explain to an army of tweens why their squeaky clean star got marriedin Vegas.

Oh, God. Bill Adama. She knew those blue eyes, that was for damn sure. They’dmet before, years ago, when she was still an assistant and he had just landedhis first major client at CAA, and he’d hated her on sight. He’d gotten herfired two weeks after she’d landed her first job on a desk.

That’s what she got for correctinghis grammar in a press release. Still, he owed her a thanks for not making anass of himself in trying to get coverage for Kara Thrace’s first starring role.He may not have known how to use a comma, but she sure as hell did.

It was probably a good 15 years toolate to ask for a thanks at this point.

***

She shouldn’t be impressed becauseBill Adama knew divorce and annulment laws so well, but she couldn’t deny that she wasmore than a little bit relieved. Billy had an appointment with a rep from TomFord for his fitting in an hour, and how sad was it that she was scheduling the termination of his marriagearound a fitting for his tuxedo? Her parents would be rolling over in theirgraves if they could see how the college education they scrimped and saved forwas being put to use.

She could see Bill asking himselfthe same thing as they sat on the conference call with their clients’attorneys, working through the finer points of Nevada law. If she rememberedcorrectly (and she did, which was why she was so successful), Bill’s father hadbeen a top trial lawyer in LA back in the days of OJ and Ramparts.

Bill had a full notepad of notes onBilly and Dee’s marriage. She shouldn’t be impressed, but she was.

He managed to negotiate ashort-term annulment with a few arguments and a little bit of fanfare. They’dhave to show up in Clark County courts in a few weeks, but after a few words infront of a judge, it would all be over with.

If Billy could just let it go. Helooked downright panicked at the thought of an annulment, never mind the factthat he hadn’t let go of Dee’s hand since Laura had first met them in the hotellobby.

Sweet, stupid boy.

She’d demand an extra bonus andmaybe reservations at Half Moon Bay to make up for this shitshow. In themeantime, she shoved Billy out of the judge’s chambers, reminding him that hehad places to be and nominees to read.

It was a little more uncomfortablewhen it was just the two of them waiting in the hallway for the judge’sassistant to make an appointment for the follow-up. She shifted from foot to foot, tryingdesperately to remain calm, cool and collected. He didn’t remember her, and shedesperately wanted to keep it that way.

“Do you want to read over the paperworkand make sure the commas are in order?”

Damnhim.

“Maybe I do.”

Bill dug through his pockets untilhe found a red pen. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

Oh, he was good. She took the penfrom his hand and used it to mark through the annulment agreement. Alimony, no.NDA, yes…oh God yes, please don’t let anyone find out about this.

Just friends, yes, in the pressrelease. Laura had been just friendswith enough of his one-night stands over the last few years; he could agree tothat for her sake.

He could, and he would, because hewas getting fitted for a tuxedo, and she was signing his name in a Clark Countyjudge’s chambers. She needed a raise.

The judge tried to choke back alaugh as he waved his assistant over to collect the papers. She should havegone to law school; if she could still quote chapter and verse of statemunicipal codes, the judge wouldn’t be laughing.

If she could still quote chapterand verse of state municipal codes, she wouldn’t be here. She’d be in a nice,cushy office with walnut paneling, not staring down Bill Adama in the judge’schambers.

“Come on,” he said, “I’ll buy you adrink.”

Isn’t that how they got in thismess in the first place?

She wanted to shrug his hand offher shoulder, but it had been a long day, and God knew she could use a drink.He was buying, so she wasn’t going to say no.

Besides, he still owed her anapology. If a misused comma derailed this annulment, he’d owe her a lot morethan an apology, but a couple of fruity drinks in the Wynn’s well-stocked barwent a long way to making it up to her.

***

She woke with her pulse pounding inher ears and an undefined, but still somehow clear memory of screwing up spectacularly.

The Advil on the nightstand wouldcure her headache, and she reached out to find the small plastic bottle and theglass of water that she was sure she’d left on the bedside table before she’d passed out the nightbefore, but it would do nothing to erase the arm that was wrapped around her waist.

Advil could cure her headache, butit wasn’t going to help the fact that she wasn’t alone in her bed.

Or that she was definitely surethat she wasn’t wearing underwear.

Or that her left hand had a certaincheap gold accessory that wasn’t there when she’d left the judge’s chambers theday before.

Dammit, she wanted a simple thanksfrom Bill Adama, not a legal commitment! She tried to ease herself out of hisembrace, intent on finding her phone and calling her own attorney, but strongfingers on her hips pulled her back under the covers.

“Not done sleeping yet,” Bill muttered.

She wanted to throw his arm offher; she wanted to scream at him for having the gall to sleep in her bed whenshe more or less remembered telling him to beat it after a couple of fairlyspectacular orgasms a few hours before. She wanted to forget she’d ever come toVegas this weekend.

Mostly, she wanted to be cool, calmand rational Laura Roslin, but she was comfortable swaddled in strong arms andoverpriced hotel sheets, and she was warm with Bill Adama breathing softly intoher neck.

Cool, calm and rational LauraRoslin had a list of things to do for the day.

Naked, happy and tousled LauraRoslin had a man at her back who was slowly stroking her stomach and humming inher ear.

What the hell, it had been yearssince she’d had to clean up her own messes, and Billy and his Disney bride coulddo without her for the day. She laced her fingers in one of Bill’s roaming handsand wiggled herself a little more closely against him.

Not done sleeping at all, if shehad anything to say about it.

#okaynextcrisis #lolcatfic #spaceparents fic #fic prompt

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sam-loves-seb · 1 year

Text

the fruity four but make it hollywood au (3/x)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

so, nancy moves into steve's old room and completely rearranges the furniture--much to robin's dismay--and paints the walls a different color. she doesn't touch the rest of the apartment, save for putting her shampoo in the shower and her toothbrush in the same holder as robin's.

they don't talk much. at first, they don't even really talk at all. but one night, after nancy comes home half an hour into a date with a takeout box filled with pizza, robin emerges from her bedroom and tentatively asks what happened.

"He didn't really want to know me," nancy shrugs, handing robin a slice. "He just wanted to be my date to my movie premiere next month."

"He said that?"

"He didn't have to."

robin rolls her eys. "Guys suck."

nancy taps her pizza against robin's, like a toast. "Guys suck."

and thus, a friendship was born, over battered hearts and cold pizza. they start talking more, start getting to know each other over late night dinners and early morning call times. they talk, and they laugh, and they have fun in their big apartment just the two of them.

robin thinks it's nice to have another friend, a female friend, a friend who is a girl, and definitely not a girlfriend. just a friend. just--friendly.

until one weekend when nancy's little brother (her real brother, mike, not her on-screen-brother, dustin, who she's still close with today after growing up together on the same show) and little sister fly in to LA to visit some family and they end up staying at nancy and robin's place place. robin doesn't mind, especially with how big nancy smiles when she brings them home from the airport, and mike and holly seem like good kids.

it's all fine until that night, when nancy puts mike in the guest room and holly in her room, that robin starts to feel the vibe shift.

nancy grabs a spare pillow and blanket from the closet and lays them down on their couch, but robin stops her, tells her they can share her bed. tells her no one should have to sleep on the couch.

(even if it is an expensive, ultra comfy couch that both of them fall asleep on regularly. though this point does not get brought up when nancy follows robin to her bedroom wordlessly.)

they stay up for maybe an hour, talking about everything and nothing and staring at the ceiling while they giggle. the clock reads 1am before robin's eyes start to close on their own, and nancy falls asleep in the middle of her sentence.

robin watches her for a while, noting the rise and fall of her chest, the slope of her nose, the way her eyelashes twitch just slightly in her sleep. robin falls asleep watching nancy breathe.

in the morning, when she wakes up and finds the other half of the bed empty, with nancy and holly already up and in the kitchen, robin feels a pang of sadness running through her chest.

then panic.

she shoves those feelings way down deep and blames it on the wine they had with dinner (they had one glass each) and the late hour (they've been on sets later than that) and the whirlwind of a night (they ate pasta and watched a movie with nancy's siblings).

things go back to normal--mostly--and robin and nancy's budding friendship continues to bloom as the weeks go on. nancy finishes shooting a movie--her return to mainstream american media--and robin lands a new contract--a twenty episode horror series that reads good enough to go for two or three seasons, at least--and things are good. great, even.

so why is it that robin feels an overwhelming amount of joy when nancy asks her to do her makeup for her red carpet premiere? like, a truly staggering amount of happiness from something she usually gets paid to do. she doesn't think about it too hard.

"Nancy are you ready yet?" steve yells as he walks into their apartment, his hair perfectly floppy and his tux neatly pressed.

"Almost!" nancy yells back from the bathroom, where robin is putting the finishing touches on her mascara.

nancy's agent told her she needed to find a date for the red carpet, and rather than trying to find someone new to accompany her, nancy asked steve if he'd go with her as friends. her agent was more than happy with that--television's princess showing up on the arm of hollywood's latest heartthrob, hello--and steve agreed, roping nancy into doing the same thing with his movie premiere next month.

(steve and eddie have been living together for three months now, and the tabloids still haven't caught on. once a week their names pop up in an 'unlikely friends' article or an instagram series of hollywood's closest 'bros', whatever the fuck that means. steve and eddie are fine with that for now, keeping their privacy for as long as they can even if half of all sets and stages in hollywood know their a couple by now.)

"Perfect," robin tells her, capping the mascara and setting it to the side with an almost sad smile. she tries to make it meet her eyes

nancy thanks her profusely, even stopping to give her a long, lingering hug--which is unprecedented, for fear of wrinkling her gown, but nancy doesn't seem to care--before grabbing her jacket and meeting steve by the door.

steve kisses robin on the cheek, tells her that eddie's coming over after rehearsal and he's bringing booze. robin makes him promise to bring Chinese food--and nancy--back by midnight. steve laughs, but he says okay.

so, that's how robin ends up on her couch, watching the live stream of the red carpet on her tv, passing a bottle of whiskey back and forth with eddie. they drink every time they see steve, or nancy, or steve and nancy, with his hand on her hip and her head on his shoulder.

it's all fake, robin knows it's all fake. well, the romantic undertones are, at least, she knows nancy and steve love each other the way robin loves eddie, or the way robin loves steve--platonic, with a capital P.

so why does it still hurt to watch them walk into the theater hand in hand?

"It sucks," eddie says unprompted, practically reading her mind. "it's not... It doesn't ever really get easier, watching him like that with someone else. Even if it isn't real."

robin swallows thickly, trying to hold back the tears in her eyes. "How can you stand it?"

"I don't," eddie tells her, a little bit drunk. he takes another sip of the whiskey. "I just wait for him to come home, wait for him to hold me through the night. He'll tell me that he's mine and no one else's--and I believe him. Every time."

robin falls sideways on the couch, letting her head drop on to eddie's shoulder. he pats her knee in an unspoken understanding.

they stare at the tv until the live stream fades to black, and then for a little while after. they're well and truly drunk by the time steve and nancy get back with Chinese food, and robin goes to bed without taking a single bite.

nancy brings her coffee in bed the next morning, and robin wishes she was just a little less perfect. maybe then, this would be easier.

~~~

("Nancy, you gotta tell her."

"Eddie. No."

"Nancy--"

"Shhh," she shushes him over the fried rice. "She'll hear you."

"She's asleep!"

"I'm with Eddie on this one," steve says around a mouthful of food.

"Stay out of this," nancy tells him, pointing a chopstick at his face.

"Nance," eddie brings his hands together quietly. "I'm like, ninety-five percent sure she feels the same way."

nancy shakes her head at her food, not looking at either of the boys. "I--I can't. I can't risk it, she's..." she laughs sadly at the realization that just dawned on her. "She's my best friend."

steve and eddie share a look over the kung pao chicken, but neither of them says another word.)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | ko-fi

#...anyways #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #fruity four hollywood au #fruity four #hollywood au #my ronance posts #ronance fanfic #steddie fanfic #steddie au #ronance au

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