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we-are-inevitable · 1 year

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btw in the restaurant au. if you even care. jack goes to culinary school because growing up, his dad always made incredible food, and he started puttering around the kitchen with him when he was like 5 years old. he always wanted to try better recipes and newer things, and his dad- though they didnt have much money- would always save up for good ingredients so jack could cook whatever his little heart desired. cooking was their time; i imagine his dad was a line cook or something, not at a fancy restaurant or anything but at a little diner, and cooking was Their thing. jack would spend all day with his mom, and as soon as his dad came home- no matter how tired he was of cooking, no matter how much he wanted to just go lay down- they would go to the kitchen and he would supervise jack as jack made dinner for everyone.

when jack’s mom gets sick, he’s 10 years old, and his dad has to cut back his time at the diner to take care of her, since jack is in school and can’t be there. this means they bring in less money, so they can’t really afford to pay for the fresh ingredients now; most of their meals at home are dollar store staples. hanburger helper, microwavable TV dinners, sandwiches- they genuinely don’t have the money to spend on fresh produce anymore, and even buying ground beef and chicken breasts is splurging that they can’t often afford.

they live on a shoestring budget until jack can get his first job at age 14. his mom beats cancer the first time, but they’re drowning in medical debt, so jack finds a job that will actually hire him despite not being 15 yet, and his first real job is working as a dishwasher at a restaurant down the street. he works nearly every day, and all of his money is given to his father, despite his father insisting that he doesn’t need a job, he shouldn’t have a job, he’s just a kid and his money should be going toward kid stuff and not paying his parent’s medical bills.

but jack refuses, so they keep it up. i think the only non-mom-related expenses jack has are food related,, sometimes he’ll stop in the little grocery store he would go to with his dad when they were younger and buy fresh vegetables and a little two pound roll of hamburger meat, just so they can at least have one meal that isn’t ready from a box. jack continues this until he’s fifteen, and by the time he turns 15, his mother’s cancer is back, even after only been beaten for a year, and it’s a lot worse.

jack drops out at 15, after having long conversations with his father, and though it breaks his father’s heart to see jack doing this, it’s unfortunately what needs to be done. jack drops out and gets another job on top of the dishwashing, and he ends up as a line cook at a fast food place. they’re able to pay the bills on jack’s paychecks, and get groceries with the little that jack’s dad makes from the days he’s able to work.

jack’s mom passes when he’s 16, leaving jack and his dad to cover both funeral and medical expenses. they’re drowning after that, both grieving in their own ways. jack’s father can barely get out of bed for weeks, but jack is back at work the day after his mother’s funeral because he knows they can’t risk falling behind on bills.

jack’s dad loved his mom so much. they were such a happy family before she got sick, which wasn’t her fault, none of this was ever her fault, but after she passes he’s completely out of commission. he can’t keep a job, he barely talks anymore, he drinks and drinks until jack can’t recognize him. it’s terrifying to watch, but jack gives him his time- he knows that eventually, his father is going to get back on his feet, and he’s going to be okay, and he’s going to go back to work and they’re going to get to relax and things will be fine again.

jack’s dad dies a few days after jack’s 18th birthday. they didn’t see it coming. the paramedics say it was a heart attack. jack likes to think of it as his mom needing his dad. it’s easier to stomach that way.

but that’s fine. everything is fine. jack, freshly 18, plans his second funeral and again, he’s back at work the day after putting his dad in the ground. he sells most of the furniture to have some extra cash. he finds a cheaper apartment in the bad part of town because he can’t afford a two bedroom when he’s just one kid. he has a bed, he has photos of his parents, and he has a kitchen. that’s all he needs.

the next few years pass with jack climbing the ranks in whatever restaurants he can get his hands on. he’s finally in a place where he can save for school, culinary school, and he has more restaurant experience under his belt by the time he’s 21 than most of his older coworkers do. he busts his ass and works so hard to put himself through school, and when he finally gets his certificate after everything, he can rest. he starts applying to different high end restaurants, and he works as a cook in a nice steakhouse for a while, but he doesn’t like his coworkers and knows he deserves more than being miserable.

when he hears about a new restaurant opening in the area, some “high end” burger joint called Pulitzer’s, he throws his hat in the ring with an application and is hired on as the lead chef at the age of 25.

he’s 26 when a new server named David Jacobs is hired, and things start looking up.

#this is why jack is so fiercely defensive of his cooking #and why david getting pissed at him makes him so angry #jack also is able to get his GED before going to culinary school and he just wishes he could tell his dad he finally finished high school #this is so much longer than i meant it to be but fuckkk bro jack loves his dad so much #jack kelly #newsies #davey jacobs #david jacobs #livesies #newsies musical #jac txt.#jac’s headcanons #restaurant au #javid

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didderd · 6 months

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Just my semi-anual tourettes boys simping. Hope you're all well. :) I have more questions!!! I saw your post about snaps with cats. Needless to say I am absolutely in love with him. That reminds me though, what are tic tac and tous hobbies? How do they feel about cats? Hope you're having a wonderful day Alex <3

(Que me making googly eyes at tac specifically)

:'> ty. am having a good day. hope u r too <333

am glad u like Snaps sm :3

i did talk a lil about this one time, but that was a while ago, so i will again. with more detail, and Tou this time ofc.

Tic loves music. He got into the hobby of mixing stuff with his buddy Napstablook, and eventually started doing it on his own as well. Him and Blooks would be a killer DJing duo on stage, but he's not interested in that. Most he might do is live streams. maybe. He's also great with a keyboard piano.

Tac got into welding, and the like, when he watched his Grillby weld together his necklace for him. He might get into glassblowing, maybe as a job, once on the surface. He also likes to cook (and bake, but you didn't hear that from me). He def has a "kiss the cook" apron.

Tou ironically went to a wine tasting one time, but he actually enjoyed himself. The people were pretty nice, and the wine was good, so he kept going. He loves physical activities. He'll get into pretty much any sport, but he actively runs and works out, and he loves volleyball. Him and his brother play basketball sometimes too. He also carves little figures sometimes, as a more relaxing at home hobby. His first was of his brother. It's not very good, at least in his eyes, but his bro holds it very dear, and keeps it, along with his other figures (most from his brother) on a shelf in his room. (He'll carve with his left hand at times when his right is sore from tics. He is actually pretty good with his left at this point, but still better with his right.)

#tou jokingly calls himself a wine connoisseur #tac might hav a skeleton apron that he found on amazon or smthn n thought was funny (after getting to the surface lmao)#but it's basically th equivalent of having a naked person on ur apron. so he doesn't wear it often. only when it's just him n his partner(s #mostly to fuk with them #and/or make dirty jokes #tic: music. tac: labor n culinary art. tou: exorsize. sports. wine. arts n crafts #lmao tou's /doing shit/#makes sense ig #he's got th most motivation #felt like i could add th nondominant hand practice i been doing to one of them. n tou with his carving was perfect #tac can probably do things like cutting veggies n stuff with his left hand too #tourette's sanses #tic sans #tac sans #tou sans #undertale #undertale au #didderd ocs #didderd asks #monsterroonio #(was gonna answer this like. th day u sent it. or a few days later #but it got put off jkdfv)

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misqnon · 7 months

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Parallel

Through the power of a strange new devil fruit encounter, Sanji gets turned into an anchor between universes. Zoro doesn't really get to help his crew deals with this, though, because the instant he makes contact with the cook, he's teleported right next to the man again.

Only this time Sanji's wearing different clothes, and looking at him weird. And they aren't on the Sunny anymore. They're in some weird, gray kitchen, and Sanji's holding a weird looking piece of technology, and also looking at him like he doesn't know who the hell he is.

"Who the hell are you?" Sanji says, and it's his voice, but with an accent he doesn't recognize, and Zoro realizes something is very, very wrong.

-----

modern au sanji / canonverse zoro. because i'm insane

only posting the first short chapter here, but the rest will be on ao3 as it goes on

By the time Zoro wakes up, the invading pirate crew is already halfway unloaded onto the Sunny’s deck.

His stomach drops.

Did he fucking fall asleep on watch?

“OI!” He shouts, voice less of a yell and more of a deep-throated growl, alerting both his own crew and the invaders. A large man in an oversized coat looks up at him with a scowl, curly black hair obscuring his face. But then he smiles. The captain, Zoro presumes.

As he does so, Sanji and Robin appear on deck, followed shortly after by Nami, Usopp, and Chopper. They all get into fighting stances within seconds, meeting head to head with crew-members already on the Sunny’s lawn, dyed dark blue in the nighttime’s dark haze.

Zoro’s still staring at the captain from the crow’s nest, the other practically daring him to come down and fight. Wasting no time, Zoro unsheathes his swords, jumping from one of the crow’s nest windows, swords gleaming the whole way down. He slams into the deck with enough force to rock the boat, causing a loud splash on its starboard side. Luffy and Franky emerge seconds later, quick to join the battle with eager grins.

Zoro feels a bit bad for taking the captain. He usually leaves that honor for Luffy. But the guy’s pissed him off, and he feels responsible for dozing off during watch.

Seriously, what the fuck? Zoro may love to sleep, but he takes watch seriously. He’d never endanger his crew for something as fleeting as a little shut-eye. Mistakes happen, but not to him. Not Roronoa Zoro, master of willpower and control.

He takes all that anger and shame and uses it to beat the shit out of the captain now defiling the Sunny’s deck with his presence.

But the other man is fast. And now he’s finally talking.

He jumps up to the top level of the ship, narrowly avoiding the fight behind him, where Sanji is throwing kicks at a man that looks strikingly similar to-

Wait, what? …Twins?

The man follows Zoro’s stare and gives a hearty laugh. “Whatever you’re thinking, it ain’t right.” He explains. He snaps his fingers, and Sanji suddenly stops behind him, looking uneasy.

“What the hell?” The blonde whispers to himself, looking down at his hands. He feels…wrong. Overwhelmed. Nauseous. The man the cook is fighting has stopped to, looking at him with the same grin as the man Zoro’s focused on.

“I’m Captain Morales of the Parallel Pirates.” The Captain declares.

“And so am I.” Says the man in front of Sanji, now turning to look at Zoro. He steps forward to stand beside Captain Morales (the first one, anyways) and Zoro is shaken, because even identical twins aren’t that…perfect.

It’s obvious this is some kind of devil fruit power, but Zoro isn’t in the mood for learning tonight. He just wants them dead or off his ship.

“Huh?” Usopp pipes up from somewhere to the left of him. Luffy and a few others take notice too.

“Hey, Zoro, why’s there two of that guy!?” Luffy exclaims, slapping away some insignificant crew member.

…Now that he thinks about it, something is off about this guy’s crew, too. He glances around again, at all the faces scattered among the deck and the ship beside them, and he realizes none of them go together at all. Most pirate crews have some sort of theme, yes, but he doesn’t mean it in the way that they don’t share a similar motif. No, they look like they’ve all come from completely different worlds.

One man wears old leather greaves, another wears a three-piece suit. One looks straight from Thriller Bark, another is dressed in nothing but silver chrome. One woman boasts a wide array of guns, while another looks slightly more Neanderthal than is excusable by old genetics. It’s a big world out there between all four seas and the Grand Line, he knows that, but this feels like…something even more than that. They feel out of place in a way he can’t place.

“Confused, aren’t you?” Says the man Sanji was fighting. The cook tries to kick him again despite the nausea, but Captain Morales the Second catches him by the leg and throws him down next to Zoro. Zoro doesn’t blink an eye.

“This is the power of the Verse-Verse Fruit.” Says the first Captain Morales.

“I don’t care what the hell your power is. Get lost, or you’ll be split into more pieces than two.” Zoro growls.

The Captains laugh. “Split?”

“No, no.”

“We’re both entirely intact. And no, we aren’t twins.”

“And I’m not a copy, either.”

“He’s me. From another world.”

“I mean, who better to have as a First Mate than another you?”

“Never have to worry about stupid decisions or insubordination. You can always trust yourself.”

“He always makes the same choices I would have made had I been there. It’s awfully convenient.”

Zoro loses track of who’s saying what at some point, but he doesn’t care. “Listen, I already told you, I don’t care about your stupid crew or your stupid powers.”

“Whaaaaat!? I do!” Luffy exclaims, apparently entranced by this guy’s…These guys’? Speech.

“Other worlds!? Like what? How?” The captain continues.

Zoro holds himself back only out of his own loyalty to Luffy. He knows the idiot wants answers, and he can’t go attacking their opponent while the two…three, are talking.

The Morales’ laugh. “Well, you see, I have the ability to traverse other worlds. It’s how I found half my crew, if you hadn’t noticed.” Says the first captain.

“But he can also turn others into anchor points between worlds, allowing anyone who touches that anchor to travel to another world where that anchor exists.” Says the second captain.

Luffy looks completely lost, as do a few other Strawhats who are listening.

Usopp pops his fist onto his other hand. “Oh, I think I get it! So say if Zoro existed in another universe, I could touch Zoro and travel to the other world he exists in?”

One of the Captains nods. “Exactly.”

Nami crosses her arms. “And how do they get back?” She looks concerned, scenarios swimming in her head already.

“Well, if I’m available, of course I simply turn him into an anchor again. He touches the other world Zoro, and he returns here. If I want it that way.”

Nami doesn’t move. “And if you aren’t here?”

They both shrug. “Too bad, so sad.” They say in unison.

Nami grits her teeth. “Hey! Nobody touch anybody! Not even the crew! There’s no telling who he’s already turned into an anchor.”

They both laugh again. “Good work, girl! You’re exactly correct. One of your own is already an anchor, ready to take anyone who touches them to somewhere far, far away from here. And I won’t bring them back no matter how much you beg.”

Zoro grits his teeth.

That’s it. He isn’t waiting any longer. He can take this guy out without touching him easy-peasy. It’s just his swords that need to make contact, after all. He puts Wado in his mouth and darts forward, demonic eyes set on the dual Captain and his First Mate, when someone stumbles to their feet behind him.

He doesn’t take stock of this, of course, he’s far too focused in the fight- but the Captain notices. He snaps his finger and someone appears in front of him like a wormhole, kicking him harshly back where he came from.

He collides with the cook behind him, Wado knocked from his mouth as the wind is knocked out of him, and before he can even realize what’s happened, he’s standing in a small, gray kitchen, with strange futuristic design completely unfamiliar to him. And before him stands the cook, only now Sanji's wearing different clothes, and looking at him weird. He holds a small flat screen, a piece of technology Zoro doesn’t recognize. The cook turns to him.

"Who the hell are you?" Sanji says, and it's his voice, but with an accent he doesn't recognize, and Zoro realizes something is very, very wrong.

#2 chapters up atm #hi im writing op again. sad #one piece #vinsmoke sanji #roronoa zoro #zosan #fanfic #fic #my writing #modern au #so fun facts: named the multiverse devil fruit user morales after miles morales from spiderverse bc i thought itd be funny LMAO #also! im trying to follow the stuff oda put forward for modern strawhats #such as french sanji and usopp being a graphic designer etc etc #sanji's still a chef tho. but. i do appreciate oda giving him the most stereotypical gay job of ~stylist~ regardless #i find this fic a little silly and embarrassing but im having fun w the lore of it #sanji's in culinary school but works part time at baratie. nami's majoring in geography w a finance minor #usopp is a graphic design major #More Might Happen Idk Read And Find Out

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ruggiethethuggie · 1 year

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Cooking with Chef Ruggie

Summary: You've been enrolled in culinary school for a few months now. Today's task- making Fondant Potatoes with your assigned partner, Mr. Ruggie Bucchi.

WC: 3382 Tags: one shot, fluff, culinary school, gn!reader, this has an actual recipe you can follow lmao, Ruggie is really good at cooking, he's also so helpful, mild cussing

a/n: thank you @the-dumber-scaramouche for this super cute, uwu idea! I can't wait to see and read about your chef oc ❤️

You came into class, looking at the board behind your professor to see what was in store for the day. You had been in culinary school for a few months now and every day your professor would write on the board something relative to your lesson for the day. To your surprise, the board simply just said “pommes fondant”, or Fondant Potatoes. Your lesson from the day before dealt with the different types of oils and how each affects the searing of different foods and can even help infuse flavors into them when used correctly. Fondant potatoes were seared on both sides, so you figured it made sense to be in today's lesson, but what was your professor going to do- make them for the class?

The professor got up from his desk once the clock struck the hour; he never missed a second of teaching. It was clear from his enthusiasm every day that he thoroughly enjoyed what he did. “Alright, so can everyone see the board? This is what we have going on today,” he started to say. Around the room you could hear the oo’s and ah’s of the other students. Fondant potatoes weren’t ever something you really experienced; simple as they were, it was still a nicer way to make potatoes. You were just used to the regular baked and french fries variety.

“So are you making these for us then?” you heard one of the cheekier students ask as he raised his hand, smirking at his friends around him. The professor chuckled for a moment and shook his head. “Actually, no. You all are going to make these. You’ll be in the kitchen today. Each of you has been assigned a partner, so lean on them and help each other. You’re not only going to be graded in technique and execution of the recipe, but also how well you work with others. I’m watching,” he said, giving a few students an obvious side eye. Your fellow students seemed pretty excited about being able to work in the kitchen today, already chatting amongst themselves as the professor started to go through his list and read off the assigned pairings.

“Y/N,” he said. Your ears perked up, waiting for him to tell you who would be your partner today, hopefully not that obnoxious guy across the room. You knew he would just shittily try to do the recipe by himself because “he just knows better” and would ruin it, leaving you with a bad grade without even being given a chance. “Your partner is,” he said, running his hand across his paper, “Ruggie”. He pointed out the student a few tables over from you. Honestly, you had ever really noticed him, which was surprising to you. He was not bad to look at, and the way his messy, biscuit brown hair kissed the side of his face and forehead made it hard for you not to swoon over.

He got up from his table and made his way to the back where the kitchen setups were, you took it as a sign and also got up and made your way back there. Ruggie was looking at the recipe sitting on the counter as you approached the work space. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you said, holding out your hand to him. He looked up at you as he put the card down and smiled, taking your hand and shaking it. “Ruggie,” he said. You let go of his hand, but couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt in yours. “So… have you ever made these before?” you asked as you picked up the recipe card and started reading it. “Yeah, a time or two before. They’re not that hard to make, just have to take your time with it,” he said confidently. “You?” You looked up from the card, meeting his eyes. For a moment, you lost all thought process, getting lost in the cool, blue-gray hues of his them. “Hello?” he said, confused. “I-I’m sorry,” you said looking back at the card. “I haven’t made them before. I’ve never even eaten them, but they look really good from the picture.”

Ruggie took the card from your hand, looking it over once more, and placed it on the counter. “That’s ok. If you don’t care, I can kinda take the lead if you want. I’ll share all my secrets with you,” he said, putting his hand behind his head and grinning. “Sure, I don’t mind. I have no clue what I’m doing with these,” you said, laughing back. “So where do we start?” you asked as you made your way to the sink to wash your hands. Ruggie followed suit and washed his hands as you dried yours. “Well, we start with the Yukon potatoes, gotta slice ‘em a certain way,” he said. You nodded as you grabbed the potatoes from the ingredients provided by the professor on the counter, taking them to the sink and washing them. “So how do you have to slice them?” you said, bringing the now washed potatoes over to Ruggie. Ruggie had out a cutting board and knife, ready to start his prep. “Well, the potatoes are supposed to be thick, but will melt in your mouth when you eat them. So you take em,” he said, grabbing a potato,” and cut like this.” You watched as he finished cutting them all. “Wait, these in the picture don’t have skins like these,” you said looking back and forth at the potatoes he had cut and the picture on the card. “Yep! That’s where the next step comes in,” he hummed. “Look in that drawer over there and see if there’s like a round cookie cutter in it.” He gestured his head to one of the drawers near the sink behind him. You opened it and dug through all the utensils in it; finally, you found a round cookie cutter. “Here ya go,” you said as you handed it to him. “Thanks.”He smiled.

He took the cookie cutter and used it to cut the center of the potatoes, making them look like little cylinders. “Ohhhh, that’s pretty neat. Looks cool,” you said in awe. “It ain’t that special,” he snickered. You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Yeah, well to me that looks pretty cool.” Ruggie chuckled again. “Alright, so next we gotta get the pan and oven ready. Could you preheat it to 450 degrees for me, please, while I finish these up? Then we just need a good sized skillet for ‘em.” You nodded as you went to the oven and set it to preheat like he instructed. You found a bigger skillet in the cupboard and held it up. “This a good size?”

Ruggie looked over and nodded. He was busy patting the potatoes dry, trying to get rid of the starchy juices that came from cutting them. You put it on the eye, turning the heat on to medium. You glanced at the recipe to see what was next. You took the avocado oil sitting out and used it to grease the pan. Ruggie just smiled as he watched you work, seasoning his potatoes with salt and pepper. “Alright, the oil is about ready for the potatoes. Time to get to searin’,” you joked as you took each potato and gently put it in the pan. Ruggie shook his head at your silliness, grabbing the herbs and cloves of garlic from the ingredients. You could see him out of the corner of your eye as he crushed the garlic. As much as you wanted to watch how he smashed it so easily with the muscles in his arm flexing each time, your mind was preoccupied with watching the potatoes on the stovetop. Once golden on the underside, you had to flip them over to sear the other side.

“Wow, that looks amazing. The sear is like.. perfect,” Ruggie said, peering over your shoulder. “Yeah, I’m like an expert searer actually. I actually got a National prize for it,” you teased. Ruggie gave you a stare, still smiling at you though. “Wow, I had no idea my partner today was a world renowned chef already. Guess I don’t have to do anything else then, shishishi,” he snickered. He picked up his dirty cutting board and knives he used and put them in the sink. You could hear him run the water for a second and turn it off behind you, so you turned around to see what he was doing. He came back to the counter with a wet paper towel and cleaned it. Wow, he seems pretty chill. Not to mention, he cooks and cleans? Seems like a house husband, you thought to yourself.

“Okay, so the recipe says once seared to add the herbs and butter into the pan. Could you grab me the butter, Ruggie?” you asked. To your surprise, Ruggie laughed at your request. Nothing is funny? “We don’t need butter, I got something better,” he beamed. “But the recipe says to use butter?” you said, confused at what he was planning. “Yeah, it does. But think of it… more like a suggestion,” he said as he took a few steps backwards out of the work space and then scurried to the back of the room. Past the workspaces were the bigger fridges and pantries. They had extra ingredients and were free to use if the students chose to. Ruggie came back a few moments later, a container in his hand. He brought it to you and let you read the label. “Beef fat?” you said looking at him. “Shh, shh. Don’t say it too loud,” he said looking around. “Can’t have these other guys knowin’ our secrets, now can we?”

You shrugged and complied with his suggestion, adding it to the pan. Ruggie put in the sprigs of thyme and rosemary and then the crushed garlic. He happily smelt the air above the pan, closing his eyes to really take it in. “Wow, it smells so good already. These are gonna be so good. I can’t wait to eat later,” he purred. You used a spoon to help glaze the tops of the potatoes with the liquid. “So, why the beef fat? What difference does that make?” you asked curiously. Ruggie grinned wide as he answered. “Well, ya see, the beef fat actually gives it more flavor than just regular old butter. You kinda get some of that beefiness infused in the potatoes. It’s not like they taste like beef, but damn does it makes ‘em taste way better.”

“Time for the oven now, right?” you asked, taking the food off the eye. “You got it, that’s right,” Ruggie said, snapping his finger at you. You put the pan in the oven carefully. You brushed your hands together and looked at Ruggie. “And now we wait,” you said smiling. “How long are they in there for?” You picked up the card off the counter to check. “Uh, about 25 to 30 minutes, gotta make sure they’re nice and tender,” Ruggie chuckled. He wiped his own hands off on the hand towel by the oven and set the timer. “So what made you join culinary school, wanna own a restaurant or something?” he asked.

“No, not really. Truthfully, I don’t even know what I want to do after this,” you groaned. “I like the idea of owning one, but I don’t know if it’s for me. I just love the idea of marrying flavors together, putting stuff together. The look on people’s faces when they eat my food? Man, it makes my heart full. I just- I like it, that’s all.” You stopped yourself from saying any more, not wanting to talk about yourself too much and sound vain. Ruggie looked at you pleased, content listening to you talk about your passions. “What about you, Ruggie?”

“Oh, me?” he said. “Well, shishishi. I work a lot of side jobs to make money. Catering is one of my biggest payers, but you can make a lot more as one of the cooks. So I’m here to finish school so I can do that, and who knows, maybe one day I’ll own my own catering place.” He was leaning his back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t speak with the same passion as you did, but it was obvious he enjoyed cooking. “You seem like you know your way around the kitchen. The places never let you cook before?” you asked.

“I mean, one of the catering places had this chef who was super chill. He taught me a lot when I worked there, even how to make these,” he said pointing at the recipe card. “He doesn’t do catering any more so I can’t work with him. But he would always show me stuff if he had the chance.” You nodded your head at his response. “That’s cool, sorry you don’t get to see him really now. Why do you work so many jobs anyway? You don’t look old enough to have a shit ton of debt,” you asked curiously. Part of you wondered if you were prying too much. “Well, someone’s gotta pay my bills.” He laughed. “I just don’t like the idea of struggling, so I work a lot so I won’t ever have to.”

He smiled softly at you, making you look away and try to find something else to put in your line of view. You were trying so hard to not seem flustered, to not seem weird. You were brought back to reality as Ruggie approached you, his arm reaching in your direction. Oh god, what is he doing? What is happening? He smiled as his arm went behind you; you closed your eyes shut trying to process what was happening. And then you heard it- the beep on the stove as Ruggie turned the timer off behind you. “Sorry, ‘scuse me,” he said as he grabbed the oven handle to open the door. You were so in your head about Ruggie, you didn’t even notice the timer was going off. You moved out of his way so he could take the pan out. Now you just felt stupid for thinking it was something more than that.

Ruggie took the pan and put it on one of the unused eyes on the stovetop. The potatoes were glistening under the lights, they looked perfect in every way, in your opinion. You took a spoon and used it to glaze them some more with the juices in the pan, only making them shine more. “These … look so good,” you whispered. “Wait til teach tries ‘em. We’re definitely getting a good grade on this little lab,” Ruggie purred. “Well, we gotta plate them first,” you laughed. Without even finishing your sentence, Ruggie was grabbing two plates from the cabinet. He put them both down on the counter. “Y’know, I’m no good at this plating stuff,” he nervously laughed.

“No biggie, I love plating. It’s a way for me to show my creativity,” you said as you gently started placing some of the potatoes on one plate. Ruggie watched as you carefully plated them and then lightly glazed them with more pan sauce. “Your plating is so clean. What’s your trick?” He smiled. You shrugged your shoulders and gave him an “I don’t know” look as you laughed a bit. “I guess I’m just that good,” you said with another laugh. “But really, it’s just taking your time with it. If you go too fast, the juices and everything spill and then it just looks sloppy.”

Ruggie nodded his head as he gestured to your professor walking around the workspaces. “Check it out, teach,” he hummed as he made a ta-da gesture to the plated Fondant potatoes. The professor gave a look full of surprise and excitement. “Wow, they sure do look amazing! Guess I’ll have to try them out,” he gleefully said as he picked up a fork and cut the potato. The fork easily glided through the potato, it was so tender. As he took his bite, the teacher closed his eyes in ecstasy. “Now that is delicious,” he hummed. Ruggie looked at you with a beaming smile. “So?” Ruggie said to your professor, waiting for him to finish.

“Well you two definitely pass, with flying colors even. But I gotta know, what’d you put in this?” You smiled widely, excited to boast about your food. “Well we actually used-“ you started to say. Ruggie cut you off before you could say anything more. “We can’t give away all our secrets. Not even to you, teach,” he snickered. Your professor hummed in amusement. “You’re right. A good chef never tells his secrets. Once you two are done cleaning up, you can have whatever food you have leftover and leave for the day. Great work, guys!” And with that, he left and it was just you and Ruggie once more.

Ruggie turned to look at you. “So whatcha wanna clean? I’ll do whatever you don’t wanna do. I don’t mind,” he said sweetly. You looked at the work space and your eyes trailed to the sink full of dirty dishes. “Uh, is it bad if I hate doing dishes?” you asked coyly. Ruggie shook his head and grinned. “No, not at all. I’ll do ‘em.” Ruggie made his way over to the sink, rolled his sleeves up, and started the water. You grabbed a few paper towels and used the running water he had going to get them wet. You finished up wiping down the counters and putting stuff away as Ruggie was washing the dishes.

Ruggie could see you eyeing the plate of potatoes from the corner of his eye. “You can go ‘head and eat some while you wait on me,” he snickered. “Are you sure? I can wait, it’s ok,” you tried to reassure him. But truthfully, your mouth was watering so bad, you wanted them now. “Shishishi, yeah. Eat away, just leave me some,” he said with a wink. He didn’t have to tell you twice, you were already at the plate and grabbing your fork. You cut up one of the potatoes and took the small piece into your mouth.

Your taste buds exploded in joy. The amount of flavor that came from every bite was intoxicating. You never knew potatoes could taste this good. The sear on the top and bottom gave a nice, crunchy contrast to the soft, tender inside. You felt bad as you looked at Ruggie from the other counter. He worked just as hard as you did today and he’s still doing dishes and can’t enjoy his own food. But there was one way he could enjoy it with you.

“Open,” you said as you held the fork with a potato on it close to his face. He looked over and laughed at the display. “Feeding me? Like a baby?” he teased. “Oh come on, I feel bad I’m over here pigging out and you’re still doing stuff,” you said. You gave him a pleading face and he rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay. Fine,” he said quietly. He let you feed him the potato; his face giving the same expression you did when you ate them. “They’re so good, damn. We did a good job,” Ruggie hummed as he finished the potato. You took turns taking bites for yourself and feeding Ruggie bites afterwards.

Soon enough the plate was finished, and Ruggie took it and the fork from your hands. You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for him to get done. As Ruggie finished and drained the sink, you handed him the hand towel that was hanging on the oven handle. “Y’know, I think we make a pretty good team,” Ruggie said with a chuckle as he dried his hands off. “You think so? I mean I guess we do work pretty well together,” you grinned. “Yeah, we do,” he said, smiling back. “Maybe next time he’ll let us pick our partners, that way I can pick you and we can bring our A game again.” Ruggie lifted up his hand, holding it there for a high five. You laughed and gave him one. “Yeah, together.”

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