Nov 1, 2019
31 Days of Halloween Specials… SPOOKSTRAVAGANZA!
1077/∞: Great British Bake-Off - 10x01–10x05 - Helena Garcia’s Halloween Bakes
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31 Days of Halloween Specials… SPOOKSTRAVAGANZA!
1077/∞: Great British Bake-Off - 10x01–10x05 - Helena Garcia’s Halloween Bakes
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If Les Amis Were In Bake Off
Enjolras: He would always be in the bottom two, he's a good baker!! he insists, his face red and sweaty hair tied back as once again, his dough has failed to prove.
Courfeyrac: The one with the ridiculous ideas. A bread in the shape of a giant psychic octopus? What if I put BEETROOT in a BLACK FOREST?? A fan favourite.
Combeferre: The national treasure. He creates puns that give Mary Berry the 'O' face. He uses syringes and various other medical equipment to ensure his bakes are "moist". He made a giant anatomically correct moth for biscuit week made of out five different kinds of biscuit.
Joly: He's the health nut. He makes Mary and Paul try strange things. Hemp flour. Low fat doughnuts. That kind of thing.
Bossuet: He would accidentally steal someone's custard and be all over the news. By the end of his run, he is covered in blue plasters.
Feuilly: He's the one that brings in home made tools and stands. Sue Perkins is obsessed with him. He's the only person who can stare deep into Paul Hollwood's eyes and live to tell the tale.
Marius: The panic baker. He tries lots of flavours from all over the world. Some work. Some don't. The only consistency is that every week there's a shot of his D: face alongside the countdown music. He once dropped his bakes.
Grantaire: He fails technicals. Every time. No matter what week it is. But he only gets to stay in each week because of his showstoppers; a real artistic lil fuck. Can build a lion out of bread. Makes a giant dragon out of chilli biscuits. Doesn't use organic/ethically sourced produce and has off screen fights about it with Enjolras.
Jehan: Jehan is the worst contestant anyone has ever seen. He doesn't know how to use the oven. His kneading technique is pitiful. He likes to add rose water and lavender to everything much to Paul Hollywood's dismay. He makes the funniest comments though and Jo Brand thinks he's the greatest contestant on Bake Off ever.
Bahorel: He's also a national treasure. He looks like a body builder but then his bakes are so delicate and he takes such great care. He's amazing at sugar work. You need something iced? He's your guy. Mary Berry worships the ground he walks on
bonus round:
Cosette: Aces the technical challenges; always gets finished early and helps out the others when their bakes go wrong.
Eponine: The type that chooses the back bench and watches what everyone else is doing to make sure she does it right. Has a rivalry with Paul Hollywood. Refers to him as "the male judge"
Opening Credits → The Great British Bake Off
Now And Forever
“And the winner of The Great British Bake Of 2012 is.”
James held his breath. He had not won, he knew that. Under cooked pastry was a rookie mistake and Paul would not accept that in a final. He may have produced the best fondant fancies out of the three, but they were so close, it did not make up for his mistake in the first round.
He had gone home that night distraught. He knew he would not win and he was heartbroken. He had called his mother immediately and cried to her, venting his frustration at himself and how disappointed he was. He then, very slowly and with the help of his mother, had come to accept it. Before he went to bed he vowed to himself that he would do his best in the final challenge, and enjoy it as much as he could as he would not get the chance again.
Even though he had told himself this, he had felt solemn all day, and he knew that it had seeped into his chiffon sponges. They were not up to scratch, he could have done better. He didn’t not put everything into it, he wasn’t the type to give up when something didn’t go his way, but his usual flair and blagging skill just wasn’t there today, and it meant it was not there in his baking either.
All James wanted now was for Sue to say John's name and then he would be happy. John wanted this more than anyone else in the competition, James knew that, and he would be more than happy to lose to the man he cared for. He, James, enjoyed baking, but he wanted to be a doctor. He was dedicating seven years of his life to studying for it for goodness sake! But John, he wanted to spend his life in the patisserie business. He had told James how he planned to get properly trained in France, although he had tried not to think too much about it. He needed this, deserved this, and James couldn’t bare it if it went the other way.
It had been perhaps five seconds into Sue’s pause, and yet it felt like hours. And then everything felt like slow motion. Her lips parted as her chest inflated as she took a breath ready to speak. And then, like lightning ripping through a storm, her voice rumbled across the crowd.
“John!”
Applause erupted, James clapping with them as a shocked and teary eyed John accepted his award. Any disappointment or regrets James may have felt disappeared as he saw the look of pure joy on John's face. He deserved this, and James could not be happier.
He wanted to go over and tell John so, but before he knew it they were surrounded by friends and family all congratulating and commiserating everyone. He, with the rest of the finalists, were given a large bouquet of flowers that he didn’t really know what to do with, and finalists each in turn were asked for a quick interview. James kept it brief, trying not to sound too pleased considering he had lost, and then he went over to his mother as he watched longingly as John was interviewed next.
“I'm sorry son,” she was saying, and James did his best to pay attention as he watched John trying not to cry.
“Don’t be, I knew I wouldn’t win.” He gave her an honest smile to try and convince her he was telling the truth.
“You did really well to get this far. Out of the hundreds, possibly thousands that applied, you got into the final, and that is something to be proud of.”
“I know.”
“Come on, I want to try your Scotland cake.” She tried to tug him away but he resisted.
“It’s a chiffon sponge actually mum,” he corrected in a mockingly posh voice. He glanced over at John again and saw his interview had finished. “And I’d just like to congratulate John.”
Without waiting for a reply he left her, striding over to John where he stood looking like a lost puppy. As he spotted James approaching he beamed, making James’ stomach tie into knots.
James did not say a word as he reached John. He just stretched out his arms and enveloped him into a tight hug. John nuzzled into his neck, his lips pressed against his skin, and James squeezed him tighter. The crowd had started cheering again.
“I am so proud of you,” James whispered and he heard John half hiccup half sob a laugh.
“I'm sorry, it should have been you.”
“Don’t you ever ever think that, you deserve this more than anyone. My super star baker.”
He released John from the embrace but kept his hands loosely resting on his hips so that they were still invading each other’s personal space.
Like some telepathic act, James asked John a question with a simple pinch of the eyebrows and worried smile, and John responded with a quick nod that could easily have been missed if you were not looking for it. But James saw it, and it was all he needed to know. As the rain drizzled on them making their hair and clothes damp, their eyes locked. James cupped John's face in his hands, brushing his thumb along his jawline. He then leant forward, hesitated to make sure this was what John wanted, and when he did not pull away he pressed a soft delicate kiss on his lips.
They suddenly became aware of a deafening silence. As they broke the kiss they glanced around to see about thirty pairs of eyes staring at them in dumbfoundness.
James gave John’s hand a squeeze, and with that confidence boost John took a step forward towards his mother.
“You wanted to know who my secret boyfriend was,” he shrugged, giving a strained laugh.
His mother stared between James and John for some time as the information processed in her mind. And then, like a penny suddenly dropping, she reached out a hand for James to shake.
“Hi, I’m Joanne, John’s mum.”
“Hello,” replied James, his Scottish accent shaking more than usual. “James.”
“I guessed that,” she smiled fondly. She looked at him for some time and James felt nervous under her glare, but then she smiled again. “John always spoke highly of you but I had no idea… Thank you.”
“I’m sorry?” James did not quite understand.
“John's been different these past few weeks. Happier, brighter, albeit a little distracted from his studies.” She shot a disapproving look at her son. “I had guessed a secret boyfriend had been the cause and so now I’ve met you I just wanted to say thank you for making my son happier than I have ever seen him in my life.”
James did not know what to say to that, so true to his nature he blushed and ducked his head shyly.
“I should say the same to John then I think.” A voice from behind them made them spin round.
“Mum!” James spluttered. “Err John this is my mum.”
“Eleanor,” she smiled as she hugged John tightly. “And I feel I should say that everything your mother has just said is true for my boy too. I’ve never seen him so happy.”
“Muum,” James groaned like an embarrassed teenager.
“And I hope to continue to do so Mrs Morton,” John said earnestly, giving James a squeeze.
“Eleanor, please.”
The chatter started up again, everyone adding James and John’s relationship to the list of congratulations. Cathryn was particularly pleased, squealing ‘I knew it’ over and over again.
“Was it love at first sight? I bet it was. I always thought you’d make a cute couple, the way you grinned at each other and sat next to each other, I should have guessed!”
The news had its fifteen minutes of excitement and then everybody went back to their social groups and families, making the most of the free food.
John had his arm hung loosely over James’ shoulders, nibbling a slice of James’ Scotland sponge.
“I don’t know what Paul was talking about, this is yummy!” James was going to reply when the sound of the clearing of a throat made them turn. The director was standing there with a cameraman looking sheepish as he spoke.
“Excuse me boys but could I talk to you about… this?” He gestured to the arm John had round James. The boys nodded so he continued. “You see, we were filming general wide shots and happen to catch that kiss on camera, and we were wondering if you would mind if we showed it as part of the programme.”
“Oh,” said John, as he looked at James, who shrugged.
“People are going to find out anyway I suppose.”
“Great, great,” beamed the director, not wanting them to change their minds. He then pulled another apologetic-but-not-really-sorry look. “We were also hoping for a little interview… with the two of you about… it all.” Again James shrugged.
“I don’t mind.”
“Mmhmm,” John agreed, “okay, yeah sure.”
“Excellent.”
As the cameraman quickly set up his equipment, John linked arms with James and took a deep breath.
“Here we go, soon the world will know. I wonder if we will get hounded by paparazzi.”
“Oh god I hope not,” James recoiled at the thought. “It would drive me insane!”
“Well don’t worry; I’ll be there to beat them all down with a stick.”
“Promise?” asked James, amused.
“Promise. You and me, now and forever.”
Jumpers On A Summers Day
James sat crosslegged on the floor taking a sip from his water bottle. They had just completed the first round of the day and it was now the break before the technical challenge. Of course, after spending all morning cooking and with the nerves of the next round looming, James never fancied anything to eat at this time. It probably did him no good surviving off water for seven hours but with so much to think about, his stomach content was not high up on his list. He fanned himself. It was such a hot day and he had made the mistake of putting on a jumper this morning. He took another glug of water as he glanced at the other contestants. No one else looked warm or flustered; maybe it was just him that was feeling the heat. And he knew exactly why. John. It wasn't fair. Why did he have to wear his shirt half open like that? His apron covered more of his chest than the shirt did! Sue had even mentioned John's clothing to him whilst he was trying to cook and he fumbled over his words, not quite able to think straight as he watched John bake. It wasn't like this at the beginning. On the first day James had thought nothing of John. He was friendly and good looking, and James could see them getting along, but no more than that. Then, that night he had woken in the middle of the night, sweating and his heart beating rapidly after a particularly wet dream involving the young baker. The next day was agonising because he could not get the dream out of his head, and with every time they met it got harder and harder not to pounce on the adorable, easily embarrassed, giggly, sweet smiling John. This is ridiculous, James said to himself. You are competitors, enemies, rivals, not lovers! You are supposed to secretly hate each other and make sure that your creations are better than his, sabotaging his work when he is not looking, throwing dirty looks and insulting each other until the tension gets too great and you end up having hot angry sex on the floor! No! Brain stop! "James?" A hand waved itself in James' line of sight and James snapped out of his trance. "You looked completely out of it there." It was John. Oh god, I hope he can't read minds. He was laughing, an adorable little chuckle which rendered James almost completely speechless. "Sorry, miles away," he smiled. Yeah, in an alternative universe where you and I are getting it on. Shut up brain! "It's so stuffy in this tent." John's blue eyes briefly glanced around the space he was talking about. James did the same, even though he had been looking at the same surroundings every weekend for the past three weeks. "Do you fancy going for a stroll?" James had to bite his tongue before he said 'I'd love to but I don't trust myself not to drag you behind a brush the moment I get the chance'. Instead he just smiled and nodded, hoping he didn't look too crazy. "Great!" John beamed, slipping off his apron so that more of his bare chest was on show. It was like a punch to the gut for James as he tried not to stare and focused on taking his own apron off. The moment they stepped out of the tent, the stuffy air was replaced by the heat of the direct sunlight, and after a few minutes of walking they realised there was no way they could continue to walk in this weather. John suggested a spot in the shade of a large oak tree, so they sat on the grass with their backs leaning on the bark of the tree trunk. They chatted about the signature challenge they had just endured. James told John how delicious his bake looked, which made John blush like he always did when he was complimented. Despite being in the shade, the heat began to creep up on James again. He had already rolled his sleeves up but that didn't help much. He fanned himself absentmindedly and puffed out his cheeks. "You know you wouldn't be so hot if you hadn't worn that jumper today," said John, tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows. "The weather man said it would rain today," James said in his defence. "Which of course means it would be the hottest day of the year, this is England after all!" "I will remember that for next time!" "Why don't you take it off?" James looked horrified at the suggestion, crossing his arms over his chest to protect himself. He couldn't bear the thought of John seeing his hideous scrawny body all hot and sweaty. Fuck, the wet dream was coming back to him. "I-I don't really-" "Come on, it's no big deal. You are going to boil if you don't! Look, I will take my shirt off so it doesn't feel weird." He then proceeded to undo the buttons on his shirt. James shut his mouth quickly to stop himself dribbling. John peeled the shirt off to reveal his broad, surprisingly manly shoulders, pushing his chest out as he did so. This was cruel, torture! James thought to himself, and yet he could not stop staring! He just wanted to reach out and feel every lump and crevice on John's body, see what the sensation of having John's skin touching his own would be like. "Your turn!" James could not speak. He was still staring. If he wasn't so completely mesmerised he would have realised how creepy he must have looked, not being able to take his eyes off John's chest, and yet John did not seem to notice. "You are making me hot just looking at you in that jumper. It is coming off even if I have to get it off you myself." John reached out and grabbed James by the hips. James jumped but did not push him away. He was so lost in his fantasy he savoured every second of this. John was determined to get that silly jumper off. So with a crooked smile he hooked his index fingers under the hem of the top and slowly tugged it upward, ensuring his fingertips constantly brushed against James' skin. When he reached the point where it needed to go over James' head, he gave one big tug, and in the short time James was blinded he had closed the gap between them. "I have wanted to do that from the moment I met you," he whispered, meeting James' gaze. James sat dumbfounded. Kiss him, kiss him! His brain was screaming but he could not move. John's warm sweet breath was tickling his lips. John was still holding the jumper upside down and inside out above James' head. He only just seemed to realise this as he threw it on the grass and pounced on James with such force that it knocked James back onto the grass. With his now free hands, John cupped James' cheek as he guided his lips to his own, kissing him as he shifted his legs so that he was straddling him. James, already mesmerised by the topless John in front of him, was frozen the unexpected kiss that was so full of lust and want. It was only when his brain persuaded him that this was no dream that he began to respond, kissing back and clutching to John's back and hair. He let his hands explore John's body as he kissed his lips, cheek, neck, chest. He felt John pull away. "No!" He tried to pull John back. John gave him a quick chase kiss but then resisted, kneeling up and crawling backwards until his head was level with James' hips. He gave James a devilish grin. Like with the jumper, he hooked his index fingers around the waistband and tugged downwards, ensuring his fingers trailed along James' skin as he lowered James' trousers. James flushed. He had never done anything like this in such a public place before, but he did not want John to stop. He gasped as John hesitated. "J-John… please…" There was a glint in John's eye as he took off James' boxers…
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Semi Finals
"This week we are awarding star baker…" oh god, "and we are awarding it to someone…" please please please, "who's shown they can produce spicy macaroons…" that was him wasn't it? "very, very, perky fraisier," he saw his neighbour glance at him out of the corner of his eye and his heart flipped, it had to be him, "but more importantly than all of this, the world's most delicious handlebar." It was him. "Congratulations James!" Inside James felt like he had conquered the world, being star baker twice in a row the week before the final couldn't be bested. He was so proud of himself, his risks and experiments had paid off, he was going through. He actually had a chance at beating the wonderman Brendan and win this competition. But being the shy gentleman that he was, James simply ducked his head and blushed as his comrades congratulated him and patted him on the back. One hand lingering slightly longer than the others. "Now all four of you know how the bake off works. This is the semi-final. We can only take three of you with us into next week's final." James saw his lover flinch, and risked a quick knee squeeze to tell him he was there for him no matter what. "I'm afraid the person who will not be joining us next week for the Great British Bake Off final is…" Every breath in the room was held. "Danny." John stared ahead as he exhaled. By the skin on his teeth he was through. He was in the final! He couldn't quite believe it. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to cheer or cry or clap. Actually, he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted James. He wanted to hold him, hug him, cry on his shoulder and tell him he was brilliant, but he couldn't. They had agreed it would probably be best with the competition and press to keep their relationship a secret which meant no more sex in the gardens surrounding the tent or dirty talk over the counters, although a few wistful looks and winks did not go amiss. They dared not look at each other as they said the necessary apologises and goodbyes to Danny, before being whisked off to have their individual interviews. James could barely speak as the interviewer asked him a few leading questions, whilst John called his mum on camera to tell her the news. They only saw each other again when they collected their bags in the dressing/make up room combo caravan. They still did not make eye contact as John slipped on his leather jacket and James pulled on his jumper, catching his glasses on the collar. "Need a lift?" asked John nonchalantly to James as Brendan packed away his various cooking implements. "Yeah, thanks." James could not drive and so got the train to and from the filming location. When John had found this out, before they had started seeing each other, he had offered to take James to the train station at the end of the day as he passed it on the way home. Really he had just wanted to spend more time with him but it was worth it, and it had been for the same reason James had accepted. So by the semi-final nobody thought it was strange that two of the contestants went home together; it was just routine. As James slipped into the passenger seat, he let out another long breath and then finally had the courage to look at John. He observed the way John was staring blankly out in front of him, gripping the steering wheel so that his hands did not shake, it made him smile. "We are in the final," John whispered, like saying it would make it more believable. "We are in the final," replied James, nodding, his smile turning into a childish grin. John turned to him and matched it, clasping his hand to his mouth as it sunk in. The joy and relief that he felt hit him like a wave and was quite overwhelming. He fought back the tears. Reaching out he took James' head in his hands and pressed a hard kiss on his lips. James pulled away quickly. "What if we are seen?" He sounded terrified; normally it was John that was the careful one about these things. "Screw them," John replied, with such finality that made James realise that this was serious, long term, the real thing. John kissed him again, just as passionate and excitable as before, leaning right into James so that he was twisted in his seat and the door handle was pressing into his back. When the kiss broke, they looked at each other and burst into uncontrollable and gleeful laughter. "I am so proud of you," James whispered, gazing lovingly over at John, who blushed. It was too soon to say 'I love you', so he hoped that that got his message across. He leant in for another kiss but John put his index finger up and pressed it on James' lips, stopping them in their tracks. "Wait; let me at least drive us back to my place. I can deal with being caught kissing you, but I cannot deal with being caught having sex with you in the back of my car." He switched on the ignition and backed out of his parking space. "Who says you are having sex tonight?" John tried not to look like a kicked puppy, but James managed to ignore the guilt trip. He raised an eyebrow. "You are my competition now, my enemy; it wouldn't be seemly to be dating my rival." John pouted. "What do you think I am going to do? Use a little S&M to try and coax your baking secrets out of you? Per-lease, I am going to cook the pants off you next week!" "You could cook the pants off me any time," James growled, and with the flick of a hand, John slapped him on the thigh. "If you want to survive this car journey may I suggest you don't try and arouse the driver?" James, however, took this sensible suggestion as a challenge, giving a devilish grin as he turned to face John as best as he could in the limited space of John's Ka. "How would you do it then? How would you coax my secrets out of me? Strip me naked and tie me down using apron strings? Beat me with a spatula as you tease me with a whisk?" John let out a little cough and James noted the growing bulge in John's trousers. "Maybe you would play the dominant one, telling me what I can and cannot do. I like it when you do that," he added, not taking his eyes of John for one second. "We could even bring food into the equation, since you are trying to force me to divulge my deepest darkest cooking secrets. Threaten to pour hot melted chocolate over my body if I don't tell you what my show stopper is going to be next week. Don't you dare tell me you are going to mix the hot chocolate and cold cream on my chest? If you are going to lick chocolate cream off my body and not give me any you could at least have the decency not to mix it wrong and cause it to separate and harden on my chest. Now that would be-" James was forced to stop midsentence as the car jerked to a stop. John was looking at him, red faced and so full of lust that it took James by surprise. "I am not going any further until you sort me out," said John hotly, his voice coarse and raspy. "What?" "You caused this," John point to his erection, "now you can deal with it." "Here? Right now?" John lived in a rural part of town, down a lane that was only used by the people who lived at the end of it. It was fairly secluded and John had pulled right over so that all four wheels were parked on the grass of the neighbouring field to the road. They hadn't seen another car for some minutes. "You wanted a punishment," John shrugged. James licked his lips, glanced out the front and back windows to check for any cars, and then unbuckled his seatbelt, sorting out John's little… problem. Wiping his moist mouth with the back of his hand, James sat up and put his seatbelt on once more. He tried not to look too pleased with himself as John buttoned himself up and started the car once more. After a moments silence John smirked. "It will be your turn when we get home."
An Unspecified Number of Photos of People I Find Generally Aesthetically Pleasing - James Morton