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An article took the world by storm, published on your typical Tuesday. The sky was cloudy, bare and boring yet the online world was crashing from all ends of the spectrum. 

Chef Technoblade Is Actually A Lot Softer Than We All Think

By Eret Alastair. 

It should be a generic article. There’s been a few attempts at “gotcha!” pieces in the past but they’ve always fallen apart, ripped apart by fans and critics alike. A quick grab cash was all they really were but this was different somehow. It wasn’t even that catchy of an article title, in hindsight, so how did it get so big that it caused even Twitter, a website renowned for handling and discussing scandals but never failing, to crash that day just from the sheer outrage? 

Well, outrage might not be the right word, but rather the befulliedment that online dwellers faced, shock overrunning them as they read through the article over and over again. 

“While we all known Chef Techno Watson as an internationally renowned chef with five restaurants over the states, each with Michelian stars of their own, and the host of Fox’s own ‘Hell’s Kitchen’, there’s more to the Chef beyond his eye-catching dishes and less-than-polite appearances on his own cooking competition show. On Hell’s Kitchen, he’s known for taking amatuer chefs and throwing them into a line right from the get go. He pushes their abilities, forces them to improve and those who don’t have the drive or passion, sink. Through every harsh insult, every demand for risotto or lamb, he is undoubtedly a great mentor and Chef for the contestants to look up to, seeing as how much they all respect him and work hard to show him that they are deserving of being one of his Chefs.

Chef Techno can be kind, it’s even been shown in the show. Even when contestants feel lost or overwhelmed, he refuses to give up on them and pushes them through dinner service. He may yell a lot, be sharp with his tongue, and have high standards for all of them, but that only shows that he has faith in them as both individual competitors and as teams. He believes in them so he’s undeniably harsh on them, but unexpectedly, the Chef himself just may have a sweeter, softer side that none of us were expecting! 

Techno himself has had some rough points in his childhood, he was in the foster care until he was ten until the Watson family found him and adopted him, but did you actually know the reason he cooks is because of them? It’s true! For all his high standards and harsh words, he’s a big softie on the inside!

In an interview for Fox’s tenth anniversary of Hell’s Kitchen, he says this about his passion regarding cooking and his drive. “For some people, cooking is just something that appeals to them. For others, it’s because something or someone made them love it. For me, it was my baby brother telling me he likes the way I do his eggs in the morning. It sounds so stupid and dorkish saying it outloud, but, it’s true! I started cooking for him and I fell into it. It called me, it felt like home, and maybe it’s because I’ve always thought, ‘I’m doing it for him’. It just feels good to cook for people you care for and I’m not necessarily the best at displaying…’love’, which cooking helps with. Food can go a long way, it’s a language of its own.” 

Perhaps this should have been the sign for many on the internet to not judge a book by its character after all, including when it comes to one of the most intimidating and respected chefs in America. 

“As we go into the eleventh season of Hell’s Kitchen, I’m eager to see Chef Techno through this new lenses of understanding his roots and his drive for it all, especially since it’s been hinted by directors and the Chef himself that his family will have a more active role in the competition with appearances of their own! I hope you will join me in my watching, perhaps, we’ll get to see more sides of Techno than previously thought of before.” 

Well, that certainly left a lot to the imagination and for many to theorize what was to come. 

Season Eleven of Hell’s Kitchen went off without a hitch. Viewers tuned in to see the next twelve competitors who would fight for the place of Techno’s next new head chef for a restaurant of his. To say the roster was filled with colorful and interesting contestants was an understatement. 

“I mean, everyone knows him right?” A face dotted with freckles and painted with a wide grin, a shine in his emerald eyes, questions towards the camera with a shrug of his shoulders. “He’s Techno , an internationally renowned chef who has three Michelin stars at his own restaurants? Who doesn’t know his name? To be able to compete here, at Hell’s Kitchen, for a spot as one of his chefs, I couldn’t think of a better opportunity.” 

The eyes of a competitor shine brightly, passion written into every part of him. He is driven, he is focused, and love for the culinary arts push him forward as a man and as a chef. Dream , his title card reads in the bottom left of the screen, just above, Private Chef. He wants more, he craves winning as much as he craves the air and the water he needs to live. There’s a buzz under his skin that demands he wins, that he pours every inch of himself until he’s the one reigning on them. There’s no other option, not when the adrenaline rushes through his skin and the flames of the oven call his name. 

“To be here, in Hell's Kitchen?” Dream says, glee written in his face. “It’s a dream come through and I’m definitely here to win. I won’t disappoint Chef, that’s for sure.” 

The camera switches to another. A man with a scar that marks his tanned skin, dark auburn eyes glinting in the lights of the camera answers. “Chef Techno is so intimidating . I told my fiances how terrified I was to come here, how scary that bastard is, and mi amor Karl just laughed at me, so this is for him, Karl fuck you!” 

The man smiled bashfully with flushed cheeks, Quackity, written in white, followed below by, Home Cook. “I already miss those bastards.” 

It flashes to another contestant, anxiety written in mix-matched eyes that flicker from facing the camera to his own hands that fiddle against each other. “Is he really as scary as he appears on TV? I feel like he could eat me and get away with it.” 

A flurry of contestant flicker through; a young man with his face scarred with burns with a determined look in his eyes, squared frames stare at the camera with a hood pulled over brown bangs with a shy smile and a chipper attitude on his belt, a woman with soft pink hair and a gentle smile greets the camera. Contestant after contestant fill the screen, passion in their hearts and a demand to drive themselves forward. 

This is Hell’s Kitchen, this is a competition that fierce and tough competition. It spits out competitors and it breaks them down under the pressure. The heat gets to your head and the weight of the world drags you down with each table, with each moment a table isn’t served. It’s exhilarating, a chance of a lifetime, and endlessly, it attracts people who want more to see even the most amatuer of chefs turned into masterminds crafted and shaped underneath Techno’s sharp tongue and careful guidance. 

Through barking insults and bitterness that coats Techno’s tongue as he shouts and demands for the utmost quality from his chefs, there is an underlying narrative being painted. 

Techno, to the media, to the viewers, and to his chefs, is intimidating. He’s feracious, sharp-witted, and he can see right through someone’s lies without even glancing at them. He’s terrifying, but something was changing, something was coming they all knew. 

Squid, a former contestant, once stated of him, “He’s one of the most intimidating people I’ve ever met. We’re good friends and everything now, but even now, I’m scared of him. He’s just that intimidating y’know?” 

However, the tides in the ocean were starting to change. Things were slipping through the cracks, beyond the simple genuine kindness he offered his chefs in their best and weakest moments, beyond the times he refused to give up on them and pushed them past their limits. The world found themselves at a standstill, asking a question about a man omade by rough edges and incredible strength, Is Chef Techno actually a big softie ? like the article had claimed.

A few episodes into the season, as tension rises and questions are asked of the contestants, Techno conducts an interview, celebrating the success of his newly launched season. 

“I can’t help but be thankful when the ratings rise and the viewer count goes beyond what we ever thought,” Techno says with a soft, almost bashful voice. “It’s a bit insane to think how far we’ve gone since the first season. We’re always thinking of how to keep the show interesting but genuine, to never lose focus of the point of the show which is to inspire the joy and the passion of cooking."

"Regarding the recent season, what do you think of this year's competitors?" The interviewer asks with a smile. 

"They're all interesting people, there's no doubt there."  Techno hums, thinking on his answer. "There's a lot of passion, a lot of love, but their drives differ. They’re all talented, from so many backgrounds, and it’s really fun to see how they implement that in their style and in their cooking because your dishes are a part of you. If I had to explain it, it’s like art. A song might be a story or an experience or just the genuine feeling a singer or songwriter might have but it’s uniquely, unabashedly them, it’s the same with cooking. Sure, we cook things a certain way because it’s the ‘right’ way but there’s so much more that goes into it: the decoration, the flavors you choose, the plating, the colors - it all plays a part of displaying who you are to customers, to judges, to even yourself and what you want to say. Yes, there’s no rule saying someone couldn’t make chicken and broccoli on the show if they wanted but it’s not creative, it’s not them, and I think as a chef if it’s not all of you, it’s empty, hollow. My greatest joy is in displaying parts of me.” 

“Speaking of parts of you,” Eret asks, their eyes glittering just beyond the dark glasses. “Could you tell us more about this season’s menu? There were some changes, a lot of people have noted how much more down to earth they feel. Could you explain that?”

“Well, in all honesty, I wanted this season’s menu to be a lot more about community, or family, if you will.” Techno says with a shy grin. “A lot of the menu choices - french onion soup, shrimp and grits, mushroom risotto - all of them scream warmth and comfort, don’t they? With all the dishes on the menu, I wanted the idea of american comfort food to be front and center. It’s my favorite type of food and certainly my family’s.”

“That’s right - your family is the reason you started cooking, right?” 

“Yes, my little brother specifically,” Techno’s grin spreads wider, the timid smile falling off and being replaced by something bright and filled with pride. His eyes shined underneath the room’s ring lights, white specks dazzling against the ruby stone. “I never thought of myself as a cook at all or anything like that but my younger brother - Tommy - was a real picky eater when he was younger. He’s grown out of it some, but when he was little, he could only eat eggs if I made them. Whenever I happened to make something for myself, he would whine how he wanted a share too and how he liked the way I cooked and thought it was delicious. I suppose I just started cooking more because of that, I didn’t even realize it until I was deep in cooking textbooks and changing recipes to fit more of my style and his taste. I fell into it, it was almost too easy, as if it was a path I was always meant to go down. It just clicked in a way nothing else did.” 

“Aw, that’s such a sweet story!” Eret cooed, smiling. “You and your brother are close?”

“Yeah, my entire family is, even if we’re separated by some years.” Techno said softly, “He’s a really good kid, he looks up to me way too much I can tell you that.” 

“Oh? Does he watch anything you’re in?”

"Yeah, actually. You know, my little brother actually watches the show! He's a really big fan," The chef chuckled, a grin plastered on his face. "He even has favorite competitors! Sometimes he makes me watch it with him and explain things, so I'll be sitting there and baam ! I'm yelling or letting out a curse and I realize, oh I'm so angry on television!"

The man smiles into the camera, light catching in his eyes. "I thought, gosh, I'm a horrible example! Tommy started cussing because of me and this whole time Wilbur has been trying to clean up his tongue and keep it on a low but here he is, saying crap and bastard and calling people rude names and I'm responsible." 

"Does Tommy like to be a little rascal then?" The interviewer asks. 

"God, no ." Techno shakes his head, his grin never leaving his face. "He's, ugh, he's such a good kid. He's always saying how he wants to be on the show too and how he wants to be just like me and how he wants to learn my menu too. Wilbur gets so jealous when he's like that, he gets so sparkly eyed and his cheeks flushed and well, it's impossible to say no to that y'know?" 

"Wilbur, your brother, the singer of Lovejoy, the indie rock band?" The interviewer clarifies for the audience watching.

“That’s the one,” Techno nods. 

“Regarding your menu again, is there a specific reason you switched to a more family-oriented menu?” Eret asks curiously. 

At that, Techno perks up. “Well, for the longest time, I wouldn’t let Tommy come to Hell’s Kitchen. After all, I’m constantly yelling and shouting, that can be scary, but he is turning fifteen soon and I decided I’ll indulge him this season. I wanted to introduce more of my family this season, as family was the core of my love for cooking, and let them have a more integral role, if they wanted to have one.” 

“Then will Tommy and the others be showing up a lot more?” Eret asks, humming. “There’s been some speculation and hints from your directors and producers but never a clarification for it.”

“Yes,” Techno smiles warmly. “Tommy especially.”

“Then do you mind if I ask if Tommy will be celebrating his birthday at Hell’s Kitchen this year?” 

Techno grins, it’s sharp and it’s blinding. 

“Well, you’ll have to stay in tune to find out for the eleventh season.” 

Eret snorts. 

Dream marches forward along with his teams and his competitors, gathering in front of the kitchen before Techno who stands waiting patiently across from them. As they settle in their separate teams, he takes in the sight of the host. His hair is tied back in a black scrunchie, his white chef jacket tugged tight against his lean build, none of this is surprising, however. It’s not strange to see the chef with his hair up, especially during service since he’s in charge of plating and serving up the plates to be handed out, and he wears the executive chef jacket everyday like clockwork, just like they were their colored jackets that were given to them when they initially joined. 

He can’t put his finger on it, though, he seems different. The air isn’t quite so harsh, the tension of the competition, of his expectations, aren’t so thick in the atmosphere. It’s almost as if he’s in a good mood. Not to say he’s always in a bad mood, but he seems calm, happy almost. It’s like he’s excited, giddy for what’s to come today. Dream isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or not, but no matter the challenge that comes his way, he’ll take it in stride and show Techno he’s worthy of working under him. 

“Welcome everyone,” Techno smiles and it feels like the world has turned upside down. “Today, you’re going to go back into that kitchen and come out with the most delicious desserts you can make within the timeframe. A good dessert should be sweet, but not overpowering, and you should be able to eat all of it, in fact, you should want to. A dessert is the send off of the night, the cherry on top, and a dessert that is bad ruins the meal for everyone.”

He watches as Techno glances towards the door behind him, a shadow appearing against the frosted glass door. 

“And today, someone very special will be judging your desserts with me,” Techno explains, his voice loud and boisterous. “He’s a young kid but has an excellent eye for talent. Not only that but his specialties are baked goods and desserts, if anyone knows how to judge a good dessert, it’s him. Please give him a warm welcome - !” 

Dream expected a lot of things. Maybe it was the judge, George, who always gets on his nerves and is very nitpicking with things. He’s heard he likes sugary things, so it wasn’t completely out of league but George was older than him so that couldn’t be the case. Maybe it would be one of the local legends of sweets, someone like Ponk who’s lemon cake is the talk of the town or Ant whose love of velvet sweets has taken the town square by storm, but no. None of those walk out.

Instead, it’s a kid. 

A tall one, for sure, but a kid nonetheless. He has blinding golden locks that the overhead lights shine down on, practically making him glow brighter than the sun outside of the Hell’s Kitchen’s walls. His soft blue eyes remind him of tall glasses of water and their trip to the beach they won a few challenges back. Despite the sweltering weather outside, the teenager is dressed in a white shirt and jeans topped with a soft cardigan draping over his frame. He looks soft and kind, he almost looks embarrassed. His cheeks are so pink, dotted with faint freckles, and he walks towards Techno without a word, smiling shyly towards all of them. 

“My little brother, Tommy.” 

Oh shit . 

The thought runs through all of them like a zap of electricity, sending their shoulders jumping and their hearts racing. This is high stakes, this isn’t a challenge to do poorly on. This is Techno’s brother, the rumored favorite and the one person Techno apparently is softer too than any other person in life, the same person who inspired Techno to take up cooking. 

“How are you doing?” Techno asks, a warm smile spread across his face. He looks so endeared, his red eyes shining with only could be explained as love . It’s so gross, but Dream supposes even an internationally renowned chef isn’t free from being soft. “How was the walk here? Did Wilbur bother you?”

“It was alright, a bit hot,” Tommy says with a soft voice and a cheeky smile, scratching at his pink cheek. “This place is so big, I would have gotten lost if it wasn’t for Pete directing me.” 

“Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time later to explore it - promise.” There’s something there, a deeper secret, a promise put in place with those words that make Tommy’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas morning for him. Gone is the bashfulness as his shy smile turns wide and he grins from ear to ear. 

He’s just like the sun. 

“As you guys might have guessed,” Techno turns towards them and he can assure the chef that they did not expect this. “Toms here will be joining in the judging but that’s not it. The individual winner of this challenge will have their dessert put on the menu and tonight’s a special night - it’s Tommy’s fifteen birthday. We will be celebrating it here, all of Tom’s friends and our family will be here tonight, so I expect the best for tonight.” 

Well, that wasn’t the biggest bombshell to be dropped on them at all . 

Techno’s family would be here tonight, eating in the kitchen, along with all of their friends in celebrating this boy’s birthday. If tensions were high before this, they were skyrocketing now. 

Dream wanted to win this challenge more than anything, he wanted to prove himself. 

Techno nods to Tommy before nodding back to them, words apparently not needed between the two brothers. 

“Your forty-five minutes starts now,” Tommy says with an eager grin, “Good luck!” 

As they all scrambled from in front of the counters and ran towards their kitchens, Dream already has an idea pop up in his head. He knew it was a little bit out there, a french-oriented dessert compared to Techno’s american homestyle menu, but it was good. He wasn't going to be boring with it either, he had a twist on it and only he knew how. As he reached for a bundle of dark chocolate, he glanced over the stack of ingredients offered to them and noticed alcohol. It’s not surprising if alcohol is used in things, like red wine, after all it gets cooked out, but it didn’t make him any less skeptical when Quackity from the other team grabs a bottle of alcohol to take to his side, only to gain the attention of Techno’s sous chef, Skeppy, who has an interesting gleam in his eye. 

Through the heat of the ovens and the burning stovetops, he pushes forth slicing away at the chocolate underneath his knife and shoving away the crust in the oven to bake for a while as he prepared the dark chocolate the way he wanted it. The idea was just within his grasp, he knew, and he could taste victory on his tongue. 

The pressure is building and he can feel every drop of sweat falling down his face as the minutes pass by them. Forty-five minutes seemed like a decent amount of time, right? It just always went too fast for him to keep up, barely stringing along to get his plate up on the countertop, but his muscle memory doesn’t fail him. He’s worked the back-killing lines and suffered through sweltering kitchens in the worst summers where they had no air conditioners to ease their suffering. 

Placing his dish on the countertop alongside his competitors, he felt pride well up inside him. It looked amazing; it looked clean, accomplished, and like something you would find in an actual fine-dining restaurant but was simple enough that it could be served in your casual cafe with a knack for dark chocolate.

“Who shall we taste first?” Techno asked Tommy whose eyes immediately locked onto Dream, staring at him for a second nervously before smiling. 

“Can we try Dream’s?”  

Oh, he didn’t expect Tommy to know his name. He had caught a little bit of the recent interview, not much before they were all called down in order to help prep for dinner service that day, but he did remember that Tommy apparently watched Hell’s Kitchen, almost like a fan. 

He felt his cheek warm up. 

He couldn’t help it, okay? It meant a lot to him that the kid even bothered to remember his name, despite the season only being a few episodes in, and Techno did say he had a knack for spotting talent…

He could have a little ego boost from this, couldn’t he? 

Carefully, he grasps the porcelain plate and brings it forward, placing it on the table before the two brothers. Silently, they examined it and Dream could hear his heartbeat racing in his ears. God, he wanted to win this badly. 

“Presentation wise,” Techno starts, turning the plate and looking over the dessert. “It’s simple and classy. Nothing extravagant, which is good given our simple menu. That’s a nice touch.” 

“It’s pretty,” Tommy smiled down at it warmly. “It’s like something you’d find in a bakery but a high-class one!” 

“I think you just insulted the man, Tommy.”

“What?” Tommy gaped, staring at his brother in shock. “I meant it as a good thing! It looks pretty enough to display, to get attention y’know!”

Techno just smirked, “Let’s see if it tastes enough to deserve that attention.” 

He felt the sweat gather underneath his palms as Tommy grabbed a silver fork, slicing through the tip of the slice, and gathering it. 

“So,” Techno says, slicing himself off a piece. “Explain the dish.”

“For you Chef and Tommy,” He smiles at the blonde who brings the fork to his mouth. “I have a dark chocolate tart drizzled in a simple caramel sauce. I wanted to do something simple but unique. Sometimes desserts can be so sugary so I was hoping there’s a good balance with the dark chocolate, which is less sweet, and the caramel, which should be just sweet enough. There’s some dark chocolate ganache in the filling of the tart.” 

Tommy raised his hand to his mouth, his eyes widening. For a second, he was afraid to hear the dreaded words coming out of his mouth but the opposite happened. 

“Wow, that’s really good!” Tommy grinned towards him, “It’s not too sweet at all and it doesn’t coat your tongue. It just melts nicely in your mouth, that was really pleasant. The caramel was a smart touch! I think it’s a five for me, right out of the gate, Tech!” 

Techno hums, slicing into the slice again and a burst of pride explodes in his chest. 

Yes!

“That’s really tasty,” Techno smiles down at the dessert. “I’m pleasantly surprised. Dark chocolate can be hard to work with and isn’t necessarily marketable but you did this very well. It balances it out well. I could have the rest of this slice and another - good job. That’s a four for me.” 

He reaches forward and takes the plate back, a grin stretched across his face. “Thank you so much!” 

Tommy beams at him, the stars shining in his eyes. 

As he sat his plate down on the countertop with the rest of his team's, he hears Quackity’s name be called and he hears the clinking of his glass plate against the wooden table. He turns back around to meet Techno, stopping Tommy from reaching out to grab a piece of the dessert. 

“I heard from Skeppy that you had alcohol in here?” Techno asked, humming with interest. “Did you cook it out?”

“Oh, well, what I have for you is a classic peach cobbler. I did add alcohol here, the peaches are soaked in kahlua.” 

Dream has to admit, he has a good upper hand. It’s a classic American dish, he’s had it himself countless times, with ice cream of course. It looks nice on the plate too, the plating is clean and centered, but there’s something telling him something’s about to go terribly wrong by the way Techno is just staring at the plate. He watches as Techno picks up the plate from the table, stepping on the foot pedal of a silver trash can next to the table, and drops the plate in there. He hears it crash inside. 

Oh my god, did that just happen ? He hears himself think, gasps filling the room and Techno’s deadly stare is back, looking directly in Quackity’s eyes who looks like his soul has left his body by how terrified he is. His shoulders are drawn up, his eyes blown wide, and his chest is barely moving, like he’s holding his breath in and struggling. 

“Do you really think that’s appropriate? I explained that it is Tommy’s fifteen birthday and his friends, who are presumingly the same age as him, will be there as well.” Techno says, lingering rage in his voice. “If it was cooked out, I would be fine with it, if this was another kid. After all, it’s safe then but instead you’ve served a dish where alcohol is integral. It’s a shame because I would have liked to try it and it would have gone well with the menu but you went against Skeppy’s suggestions to cook it out or not include it at all.” 

Dream isn’t even the one being yelled at yet he feels like he can barely breath in the room. 

“Not only that, but Tommy has ADH or alcohol intolerance,” Techno warned, fire burning in his eyes. This man could kill them. He’s so fucking terrifying, it’s almost funny. “I didn’t bring it up because I didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to use alcohol in a dessert meant for teenagers, but apparently, I need to lower my expectations. Your dish is disqualified, you get a zero - back in line.” 

Techno is intimidating, but god is he also terrifying. He never thought of Techno to be overly brotherly or sweet before the article made its rounds and pointed it out, but even this is a bit surprising. He’s incredibly protective of his brother and always speaks to him so patiently and kindly. 

“Sorry about that, Tommy, I know you were eager to try it,” Techno says, glancing down at the youngest. He just shakes his head and smiles. 

“It’s okay, maybe the next one will be a winner!”

In the end, it’s his dish that goes on the menu. 

There's something so terrifying about the center table, a four top. Naturally, they ended up getting Techno's family as their table which only adds pressure to deliver. As he twists the top on the sauce bottle tight, he glances towards the dining area where they sit. The dining area is decorated to hell, the punishment for the losing team. Apparently, they had to decorate the entire area by hand for the party.

There are balloons decorating the entryways, paper flowers strung on the walls with streamers scattering the room. There's even an area to take photos, Techno has truly gone all out. The birthday boy is dressed for the occasion, wearing a blue sweater with a grin wider than any smile he's ever seen before and he even has one of those clip-on birthday ribbons. He sits next to his other brother, a brunette who has a jacket thrown over a dress shirt with a smirk painted on him as he teases the birthday boy. Their parents sit across from them, the mother in a soft dark dress and the father drowning in his own cardigan. They're a family, through and through. 

"Alright," Techno nods towards Pete, taking the first order and turning to the team. "This is Tommy's birthday party, make sure not to screw this up if you want to make it through the night! Our first four top for the blue team - two risotto, two shrimp and grits! How long?" 

Dream grips the metal pan, he's on hot appetizers tonight and he wants to make sure to get them off on a good start. It all starts and ends with him. 

"I'm eight minutes out on two risotto and two grits!" He hollers, making sure all of his team can hear him. "I need two risotto garnishes and shrimp dropped!"

"Heard!"  Tubbo says from across, gathering a pan and placing it on the hot stove. "Dropping shrimp in three." 

Right , he grins down at the rice, pouring more of the liquid into the pan and grabbing a metal spoon to taste it. It needs to be more creamy, a lot more liquid and a lot more cream. We've got this. 

This is what he was meant for, this is his life.

The passion builds in the air, rushing and pushing them forward. Before his hands are endless food, endless chances, and he isn’t going to waste one of them. Pan after pan goes up to the pass, a throwaway spoon dug into the hot metal for a quick taste before it begins to get plated for the customers eagerly waiting for their food. 

“Amazing risotto, Dream, keep it up.” Techno calls back and the approval of his cooking sends bursts of pride through him. The smirk on his face is annoying to others, he knows, he notes the way his teammates roll their eyes at him but goddamn does it feel good to be praised by Techno, an undoubtedly amazing chef! It’s everything he’s dreamed of and more. He’s yearned for a day to prove himself, beyond the quick jabs and vile customers, that he can be so much more than small towns and boring dishes. 

Dish after dish gets put up for service, waiters in dress shirts and striped ties taking away the plates to the tables awaiting their dishes. He glances over to them, watching the glee that comes over their eyes and he knows this is him. This is his life; he’s a cook through and through. 

“Alright!” Techno takes a ticket from the countertop, turning back to them. “One slider, two shrimp and grits, and one risotto!” 

Another ticket, their momentum is killing their side of the dining area. If they can keep this up, they’ll win today’s dinner service, no problem. It all begins and ends with him, he reminds himself, he needs to prove himself as a leader, as someone who can bring them together and lead them to victory even at the worst times. 

“Hey,” Techno calls back as he shouts over ‘eight minutes’ to Tubbo who shouts ‘heard!’ in return. “This one is for my family.”

Oh, totally no pressure. 

They cannot fuck this up or they’re dead meat. 

Taste, taste, taste, he reminds himself, grabbing a spoon and scooping up some of the rice in it, sampling the food. More cream, more liquid, more flavor. Give nothing but your all, give nothing but your best or die trying. He shovels the pan against the hot stovetop, stirring and adding salt. 

That’s better, now that’s tasty. He thinks, stirring the rice and mushrooms together, creating a mesh of beautiful gray shades. He takes it off the stovetop and rushes towards the pass, sitting it down to the right of Techno just as Tubbo brings up a tray of sliders to his right, both of them turning back and rushing to their own stations. 

Please be good, he prays somewhere deep in his heart. He has trust in himself, in his muscle memory, in his skill, in his tongue, but there’s always that lingering doubt that makes him question if he’s right, if he deserves to be standing here. 

"No, no, we're not doing this tonight." The chef's voice solidified, sending fear through every amateur's blood. Dream felt the color drain from his face as he turns to face the man who holds the silver tray only for him to march back to the rest of them, tossing the tray on the station, the sliders falling apart on the blast. "They're undercooked, they're practically still on the farm, look at this! Raw, raw, raw!"

He watched as the chef took the patty into his hands, tearing at it, and showing the pink center. It was like it hadn't even been thrown on the pan, the pink more vibrant and bright than the man's own colored hair. Dream felt sympathy for the poor person on the meat station, which he undoubtedly knew was Ranboo. 

"Did you guys just forget?" Techno asked, his glare stuck on the raw meat. "Are you trying to insult me? This table is my family , these sliders are for my little brother who loves them! You expect me to serve this crap to him? On his birthday, no less?"

"No chef!" Dream hollered along with the rest of them, just taking the scolding as it came. The anger in the man's eyes was so genuine, so pure and so raw that it almost scared him. Techno is so intimidating, both as a man and as a chef. 

"Well, what are you doing then?"  The chef tossed the ruined meat against the countertop. "Refire them, now !" 

"Yes sir!"

As the days count by and his chances of becoming the winner of this season of Hell’s Kitchen grows higher by the day, he has yet to learn to expect the unexpected. Really, he should know better. After all, Techno’s known to be ruthless in punishment from forcing contestants to decorate the entire dining room for Tommy’s birthday party, to making them make pasta from scratch, to making them carry six hundred pounds of ice inside. They’re drastic, a little cruel, but show the strength of the competitors who stick through it. 

Even through every punishment he’s been forced through, struggling but never giving up, he still hasn’t learned a damned thing when it comes to the unpredictability of Techno. He certainly wasn’t expecting for all of them to be called down urgently to the dining area, only to be greeted by a mess of a dining room. In the center, just behind Techno who was in blue jean overalls and a straw hat on his head, was a table filled to the brim with potatoes, carrots, beets, radishes, hell there were too many to name! It seemed like every vegetable he had ever known about was piled up in the hundred on the table. Amongst the greenery, he could see the classic gathering of fruits ranging from berries to butternut squash to hell, even pumpkins! 

“Good morning everyone,” Techno smiled, a gleam in his eyes. He looked a bit silly in that getup, he had to admit, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “Behind me are gatherings of fruits and vegetables - our bread and butter, if you will. Farmer’s markets are essential for a chef, we owe our everything to butchers and farmers who supply us with the food to create quality dishes, but sometimes things are scarce and you’re put into a tough spot.”

He could hear the warning signs of a challenge.

“Which forces you to be creative!” A new voice says, popping out from behind the table in matching overalls and a bright grin.

Techno smiles at his little brother, “Exactly - here’s your challenge today: be creative with little. I want you to choose one fruit or vegetable and make something amazing , something that could be in a real life restaurant. Here I have every vegetable or fruit that could be homeground, in fact me and Tommy grow our own so you should say thanks to him for growing all of these for you guys, and it’s time for you to make one of those crops the star of the show.” 

Almost in unison, they all speak before they could stop themselves, “Thank you Tommy!”

At that, Tommy beams brightly, rays of light raining off him. 

“I can’t wait to see what you’ll do!” He grins, flashing a cheeky smile. “Good luck!”

“Your time starts,” Techno glances at the clock and offers them a smirk. “Now.” 

The race to create a unique dish from nothing but one crop begins. 

Before he can stop himself, he’s grabbing one of the baskets from the side, a nod to the classic grocery store ones, and loading it up with a dozen of potatoes. There’s so much you can do with them and there’s so much room to explore. 

Make it the star of the show, he reminds himself with an assured heart and turns to the kitchen, loading his basket on one of the countertops with a plan in mind. He has all he needs and his hands are racing inside the basket to get the potatoes underneath the sink, hurriedly rinsing them before he slices the skin off, careful to watch for his fingers. 

Something that screams home, something that’s warm and inviting, something that fits right in with Techno’s hearty message with his menu. He feels the passion run through him as he smashes the garlic underneath his knife before tossing it in the pot with the diced potatoes and milk. 

“Tell us about your dish,” Techno says with an intrigued look, taking in the sight of the creamy soup inside the porcelain bowl sitting before him. Tommy grabs a spoon, dipping it in the soup and bringing it to his face, sniffing it. 

“It’s a classic potato soup,” Dream explains, aiming to catch his eye. “It’s potatoes simmered and cooked down with milk and chicken stock made with cheddar cheese, chives, and diced bacon.” 

“That’s good,” Tommy whispers to himself, smiling down at the bowl. “I like that, it’s really yummy. It smells really good!”

“Thank you Tommy,” He grins in return. 

Tommy seems to beam at his reply. 

“I agree, it’s a good four.”

“A four for me too!” Tommy grins widely. 

The episodes continue to count upward, contestants trying and failing to stay on night after night, screw up after screw up and he’s still here. It’s dwindled down to the six of them now, his shot at victory growing ever near. He just needs to grasp it now. 

“You’ve all made it incredibly far,” Techno begins with a warm smile and it feels genuine, like he’s really proud of them. “It wasn’t easy and some of you had bumpy roads, but I think you know what time it is. There’s six of you that remain, today one of you will be leaving this kitchen.” 

He knows what today is, the day he’s been dreaming of since season one of this show premiered when he was still in culinary school and trying to master his own style of cooking. 

“Today is the day where we see which one of you is deserving of a black jacket,” Techno says, scanning their gathering. “And which one of you will be sent home.” 

The pressure is on, it’s suffocating and he can feel it breathing down the back of his neck but he’s ready. 

“You will all compete is a classic cook off but you have free reign on what to cook.” He explains calmly, as if everything isn’t on the line. “This will continue until all five of you have been given your black jacket, the last one to remain without it will be sent home, but I won’t be the deciding factor tonight.”

What? 

“Tonight, the person who will decide your fate - “ 

“ - is me!” A head pops out from underneath Techno’s arm, their arms shooting around their brother’s waist and holding on tight. Familiar blond curls pop into view and soft blue eyes beam at them with white speckles of lights shining in them. “This is so cool! I get to be a judge, all on my own! I promise I’ll do you justice!” 

“Of course,” Techno says. “I will also be tasting the dishes, just in case he makes a horrible judgment call, I will override it, but other than that, he’s the deciding factor of who makes it tonight as a black jacket and who goes home tonight.” 

He thinks back to the interview, how Techno mentioned to the interviewer how Tommy is actually a fan of Hell’s Kitchen, so he imagines this must be like a dream come true. He’s on his favorite show with his brother judging their dishes as an official judge with standing and ruling. 

He really is a softie for his brother , he thinks, watching the two interact. He takes in the way Techno lets his hand fall into the golden curls, rubbing the teenager’s head and the way the younger leans into it, almost instinctively. They’re brothers, your honor.

He always treats Tommy with sincerity and kindness. He offers him endeared glances and soft words, constantly standing besides him and encouraging him endlessly in his thoughts. 

Dream thinks he gets it, especially with the way Tommy beams like he couldn’t be happier to be here, as if nothing else on Earth could compare to the time he spends here with all of them. It almost warms his heart and makes him feel grossly fuzzy, but he has a competition to win first. 

“Best of luck everyone!” Tommy smiles, clapping his hands together. “Your time starts…now!” 

It’s a race to the finish and Dream will be damned if he won’t earn himself a black jacket. They’re seriously underestimating him if they think he doesn’t deserve to have it on him instead of this annoying blue jacket. He looks good in black, he knows that much. 

Allow me to show you what I can do, Tommy, pride wells in him as he takes the filet mignon within his hands, rubbing his thumb over the piece of the meat. He’s saved the best for last. He grabs a metal pan and places it on the hot stovetop, placing the meat inside the butter-filled pan, grabbing a spoon to baste it in. He wants it to melt in one’s mouth, to fall apart in the most amazing way. A chef’s dream. 

Something screams to him as he bastes it in butter, delight spreading across from him watching the meat turn tender underneath his careful watch. The pressure to all of the other challenges are nothing compared to not, the drive tingling on his skin as he carefully plates his dish.

He doesn’t cry, okay? He doesn’t. Sure, he’s been waiting for this chance all his life but he doesn’t weep like a baby. He’s not a wimp or that weak but maybe he’s a bit touched, maybe his heart had gone soft with joy, maybe he’s a little emotional as Tommy stares up at him, glee dancing in his eyes as he hands him the black jacket, the first one. He was the first one to win one this season, that - that speaks volumes. 

He takes it carefully in his hands, his thumb sliding over the black jacket lounge card that shines underneath the golden overhead lights and his heart practically soars as he draws the clothing close to his chest, almost cradling it against him. It’s precious to him and it means more than words could ever begin to attempt to grasp. 

Tommy doesn’t need words though. 

He just smiles warmly and moves forward, wrapping his arms around Dream and drawing him close. He holds him for just a moment, hugging him close, despite being the shorter one of the two. He almost looks silly like this, he thinks. 

“I’m rooting for you,” Tommy says, falling back on the heels of his feet, grinning up at him. He brings his hand up to his mouth, hiding these secrets from the others. “Don’t tell anyone but you’re actually my favorite, you totally deserve to win!” 

He’s just a kid, but goddamn does he have a way of getting into people’s hearts, enlightening them with warmth and love in a way he can’t decipher. Inside, his chest goes all fuzzy like the cheesy fool he is, the part of him he always detested, but he welcomes it this time. He smiles back, ignoring the tears in his eyes that definitely aren’t there. 

“I will,” He says. “I’ll make you proud, you won’t regret it.”

Sweet and kind, gentle in every word and burning passion into every part of him, Tommy smiles and replies with red cheeks.

“You already have.”