#The Faks…..idk man

[herbofgraceandpeace]

Thoughts on the Christmas episode of season two, aka Fishes: it’s all about either wanting love or wanting to show love

[carmenized-onions]

Do the Thing! | Toilet Repair

logline; Today's itinerary: Fix the toilet, catch up with Syd, try not to cry when everyone asks you where you've been.

series history; Previous Chapter

portion; 7.1k+ (this shit got away from me man, idk what to say)

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (It's the Bear, babe, everyone's sad). I did no research on plumbing and am truly making it the fuck up-- I know for a fact I'm not using any word correctly and I simply will not be fixing it. Reader eats meat!! Specifically pork!! Your 'name' is 100% just Tony now.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'handywoman' and 'Miss' are said. Plus a chest reference).

you ever start writing and you just cannot seem to find an end so you keep going forever? yeah.

“I think my name is just Tony now.”

You sip your overpriced orange juice. You really have to fucking savour it, now a days. That’s like 25 cents a sip, and Syd’s treating you to this breakfast outing, so it’s not even your own wallet on the line here.

“You lose all sense of identity, in a restaurant.” Syd straightens her back, mocking her very own mechanical movements of whenever she steps in a kitchen. “I am Chef.”

This diner isn’t more than two blocks down from The Bear. It was probably your second favourite spot in this neighbourhood. Probably still is. Sitting in the back corner booth (your favourite) with Syd is nice but distracting. She’s been updating you on everything since the catering scene and her botched credit, and you’re absorbing all of it, you swear, it’s just hard to not remember why this was your favourite booth.

Not because it’s seats are the least worn in, not because it’s got the right amount of sun through the window without blinding you, but because of the company you kept here. You’re trying to not notice your own name carved into the table. Especially since it’s not your handiwork.

You laugh at Syd’s joke on time, thank God. No awkward pause. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are. Head, right?”

She nods. “It’s cool. It’s like, vomit-worthy stressful but also…”

“You wish you were dead when you’re there, but you’d rather be dead than do anything else?”

“Yessir.” She nods again, digging further into her pancakes. “I really fucking owe you, by the way.”

“You’re paying me off through breakfast.” You wave her off. “Plus, I was available and it was like maaayybe 5 minutes of manual labour, it’s nothing.”

“Y’know what?” She hums, “I think actually, you owe me.”

“Yeah?” You grin.” Please, let me clear my debts, Syd?”

She smiles, pointing her fork at you. “You owe me the fuckin’ Beef background I’ve apparently not unlocked. Everyone was talking about you after.”

“Good things?”

“Vague things. Shit made me even more curious.”

You laugh. No shit they’d be vague. What can they say? “When my dad was running the repairmen gig, Cicero or Fak would call him in—”

“Oh fuck.” She snaps her fingers, seemingly in realization. “Your dad’s the connection!”

“The connection?”

“Fak said he had a connection for our fire safety test shit, and then said he didn’t—”

“Ah.” You nod knowingly. “Dad cut the cord on his business phone when it transferred to me, didn’t really keep people updated. Whoops.”

She nods, taking another bite of her pancakes, speaking mid-chew. “You could’ve saved our asses way faster, and I’ll-I'll never forgive you, but continue.”

Snickering, you continue, “Well, they’d call my dad in, and then my dad would call me in as his like, like his fuckin’ Sous of Repairs. And shit broke all the time at the Beef, as I’m sure you’re well aware, so I hung out around Mikey and everyone a lot.”

“Ah. N’ then…”

“He fuckin’ died.” You laugh, because there’s no way to say it smooth, so you might as well say it bad. You stretch out your arms and lean back in the booth. “I kinda took a step back, after that, so we didn’t manage to crossover ‘til now. S’ironic that you’re the one that brought me back instead of an oldie, honestly.”

She desperately wants to ask more about Mike, but she can tell now is not the time, so she just lets it lie and moves on. “You stopped being an EMT to take up the handyman shit, then?”

“Yessir.” You nod, finishing your straggling home fries. “Just kinda made sense to trade off, and I didn’t want to see the family bizz die. Do I have to occasionally pick up shifts bartending to make rent during slow months? Yes. But I also don’t watch people die anymore, so that’s a win.”

“In a way, you’re watching people die still, just slowly.”

You bite down hard to stifle any semblance of a smile or laughter, deadpanning, just to see her squirm in awkwardness for a moment. It works with flying colours, of course it does. It’s Syd. She’s still Syd. You speak at the same time.

“Cause of the alcohol?” “Cause—Cause of the alcohol.”

You both break into laughter, she throws her napkin at you. “Can’t stand you, oh my god. Let’s go clock in.”

She pays your bill before you can try to sneak your card in, which feels all too familiar, and you’re off.

Off to fix an exploded toilet.

“How the fuck do you fix an exploded toilet?”

Your hands rub over your face, lifting your safety goggles for a second. Too fucking foggy. Too fucking sweaty. Plumbing never really was your biggest strength. You’re staring at the bane of your existence, and it’s the latrine. How far we fall.

“You good, Cousin?” You hear from behind. You don’t need to turn to know it’s Richie in the doorway. It’s a fair question, you’re sitting criss-cross in front of a toilet, head in hands.

“Yeah, Cousin, I’m good.” Your words are muffled by your hands. Fully not cousins. For the record. You would argue you're not even that close, but he'd slap you upside the head. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “Can you like, get me a pen and note pad? I need to like, strategize an attack.”

“It’s not that bad, Cousin—” “It’s that bad.” “Just tape the—” “Fuck off with the tape!”

You click your teeth, staring at the gurgling porcelain before you— At least it’s clean, it’s just fucked. “I shut the valve and it didn’t do shit. I think I have to remove it entirely so I can see what’s going on with the underground pipe.”

“Heard.” Richie and you both know that his hotfix handiwork has absolutely contributed to this penultimate mess you’re in now, but you’re both letting that go quietly for now. “You charge by hour or service?”

“Service flat rate and then after two hours it’s by hour.”

He hums, knocking his fist on the doorway a few times before walking away. “Pen and pad, Chef.”

“Not a Chef!”

“Term of Respect, Chef!”

You tap your leg incessantly, groaning like you’ve got an 80-year-old body as you stand to your feet. Richie’s grown a lot. He wears suits now. Hasn’t even poked at you for vanishing. Though you have a feeling it’s coming. If not from him, from someone.

You step out into the hall, leaned against the wall with your arms crossed as you wait for your pen and pad. And now you just have more time and a better view to take in how much has changed.

Gutted. A few walls gone. Makes sense, you told Mikey he was getting a mold problem. He never listened. Seats are new. The booths are the all-around style ones now. Ritzy. It’s too good for this neighbourhood. Is that a good thing? Yeah, right? Despite the fact that The Bear should feel out of place, you feel out of place being in it. Could you afford to eat here? Could the people who work here afford to eat here? Syd said she’s not getting paid for the next few months, so at the very least, the Head Chef can’t.

“Strange?” Tina sidles up to you on the wall, wiping her hands on her apron. Completely knocking you out of your dissociative fugue state.

“Yeah.” You nod, a little too quickly, that felt judgey, you correct, uncrossing your arms. “It’s daunting, I think; to see it all at once rather than slowly built in. Like, I know objectively this is very cool, but—”

Tina hums with understanding. “Feels gutted?”

“Was gutted.” You nod. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, it’s just, I dunno. Adjustment period, all that.”

“I needed a second too, but Jeff is good. Change has been good.” You nod like you know who Jeff is. “Carmen, I mean.” Your nod is now significantly more understanding. She smiles, you’re a little surprised to see Tina’s got a lot more insight than she used to. She pulled the thought of Carmen right out of your subconscious before you even detected it for yourself. “He’s good. You’ll see.”

You nod. You know the good she means is not Michelin Star Good. You already know that. He’s Mikey good. Person good. You clear your throat. “How’s Louis?”

“Good. Y’know, he’s getting to that age, getting in trouble. S’been a while since he’s had a good influence.” She nudges you. There it is. There’s the poke. The ‘where have you been?’ The ‘it’s been a year’. The— “Y’know, Chef didn’t come to the funeral neither.”

That one you didn’t expect, your head swivels to her hard. “Carmen didn’t go?”

His brother didn’t go? Oh, who the fuck are you to judge...

She nods, practically with her whole body, she looks more amused than anything. But like, mom amused. The worst amused. “You’re both the sensitive type.”

You cock your head at her, raising a brow. Smirking slightly. “Wow, Tina, I thought you changed too but you still talk your shit, eh?”

“I’m not talking shit!” She laughs, hands up in defence. “I’m just saying, you’re alike.” You hope that the laughter makes her forget the topic but it doesn’t.

“Where have you been?” She softens. She’s not asking to be mean, she’s asking out of concern. Why does that make it feel worse?

You tuck your hands in your pockets and retrain your eyes on hers, even if it feels bad. “Thought time and distance would heal all wounds.”

“Did they?”

Before you can answer, “Pen delivery, cousin!” Richie returns, triumphantly, with a pen and pad held high in the sky. He makes you jump for it. You elbow him in the gut, not hard. “Fuck off, Rich…” He keels over enough for you to grab it. “Thank you, chef.”

You turn back to Tina, who you now realize has spent half her smoke break on you. She nods to you, and then the bathroom door. “I’ll let you get back to it.” You nod in return. When she turns to walk away, you grab her shoulder.

“Tina.” She turns again. You should say something. Something vulnerable and thankful. Words of affirmation are not your thing. But maybe they could be, “If you end up with a dead plate—” Or maybe not.

She grins, and part of you is concerned by this, but she waves you off, giggling like she knows something you don’t. Already walking off. “You’re gonna be taken care of, Terry, don’t worry.”

This is a bad new nickname scheme. The fridge guy is just gonna end up being called ‘fridge guy’ if you take all his names.

It’s maybe three hours later. 11 am ish. You’ve finally put the toilet back in place, the pipes fixed underground— Which is a huge win of progress, the problem is, it’s just seemed to open the toilet’s ability to have other problems that need to be addressed. There’s a strong chance you’ll be here until you die. And even after that, this stupid toilet will still be gurgling, outliving you.

But you seriously have to eat something, so you scrub yourself clean, set your safety equipment down, and head out of the bathroom for a much-needed stretch of the legs— And to hopefully get a plate from Tina.

On your way to the kitchen, you’re stopped and walked backwards to a booth in the corner by Richie. “Hey, Miss, happy to serve you today, my name’s Richard but you can call me Richie, how’re you doin’ this fine morning?”

They’ve yet to open front of house, so you play along, taking your seat with a laugh. “I’m doing perfect, Richie, how are you?”

He nudges the air . “Ey, better now that you’re here, ah? Can I get a drink started for you?”

“Really gonna practice your set on me?”

He shrugs, still smiling. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”

You hum, then rub your temples, the headache is setting in— Not cause of him, just been a tough morning. “Just your coldest fuckin’ glass of water, Rich.”

“Right away, Cousin.” He slips off into the kitchen.

When the door swings open again, it’s not Richie coming with your ice water, but Carmen— It’s your first time seeing him since the walk-in. When you came in this morning with Syd, it was Nat that gave you the quick briefing on the schedule and goals for today.

“Tony.” He hums, corners of his mouth just slightly upturned. The nickname has stuck. Goddamn. He sets the water down in front of you, along with a plate— Covered by a cloche—Or the silver lid thing, whatever.

“Carmy.” You only mean to mimic his tone, but then cringe. “Is Carmy fine?”

He pauses mid slide into the booth, sitting across from you. He seemed all cool and collected and is now suddenly extremely caught off guard. Already sweaty. “Y-yeah, I’m better, thank you—”

“No, I meant—” It is so difficult to hold back laughter. You deserve an Oscar.

You’re not doing great to be fair but like, still, Oscar worthy attempt.

“I meant like, like is the nickname okay?”

The horrors just keep piling on his face, and you can’t help but feel guilty. No shit he feels like he’s starting on a lower playing field here. You knew his dead brother, you know his Head Chef, your first time meeting him was at quite possibly his lowest moment and biggest mistake— Of which you had to coax him out of, and now he’s misunderstanding every innocent question you have for a inquiry into his psyche.

He clears his throat for objectively too long of a time. “Carmy is fine. Tony is fine?”

“I’m doing okay, yeah.”

Thank God, he laughs, awkward sure but objectively amused.

You nod down to the covered plate, smiling, “Fuck is this?”

He leans forward in his seat to get a hand over the lid. “I, uh. Made you a thing. As thanks or like, an— an apology.”

Ah. That’s why Tina was laughing about you getting taken care of.

He lifts the lid, and what is revealed, if you weren’t careful, would be enough to make you cry. Thankfully, the shock registers as uproarious laughter, one that Carmen cannot help but join.

“What the fuck?”

Pork brisket sandwich. Something that Mikey made for you, specifically. Because you said one time you were more of a pork fan than beef and he absolutely lost it. In a cute way, though. Said ‘Oh, I’ll make you fuckin’ pork, alright?’ You’re not sure if he won or lost the argument, because you did find it better.

“I, uh, we had some cuts left over that we weren’t gonna be able to fuckin’ use, and uh, Tina showed me this, this recipe card, last night.” He slides over the very same brisket recipe Mikey had written down. Little doodles of angry faces and Xs over pigs in the margins.

“He was so fuckin’ mad.” You snort, looking at it. “All I fuckin’ said was I had a preference!”

“In The Beef!”

“He asked!” You quickly defend, through laughter. “And it tastes fucking good. All he did was prove my fuckin’ point— And spent hours doing it. Were you here overnight for this, slowcooking?”

He shakes his head, though there’s a hesitation in it— So you’re not privy to completely believe him. He sniffs, swiping at his nose “I, uh, just came in early. Had to fix some shit anyways.”

He’s staring at the sandwich, then occasionally you, expectantly. You look at him with equal expectance.

“Well?” You start.

“Well?” He astutely adds.

You nod down at the dish. “Do the thing.”

“The thing?”

You pick up one half of the sandwich, but you’ve got no plans of eating until he satisfies this craving first.

“The thing Syd does where she explains why she’s proud of her dish and why I should care. I know it’s Mikey’s, but you clearly made changes.”

“Oh. Uh…” He was both expecting and not expecting this soap box. “So, followed the rub to a T— Well, with a salt bed, this time. Put it on brioche instead of the old shit. And I uh, added uhm—” He snaps his fingers, staring at the sandwich in your hand. “Added pickled red onion, for acid and sweet, and garlic confit. I’m—I’m happy with my spin on it.”

You whistle as a form of praise, he flushes with a glow of pride and is desperately trying to not show it. He’s proud because it’s curated, personal. Ah, he is Mikey good. You nod and take a bite, trying to control your reaction. Worst part about having Artists as friends (especially chefs): They fucking stare so hard when you’re taking in their work. And they’re over analyzing every micro expression. He’s no different.

Fuck. It’s fucking good. Is it bad that it’s better than anything Mikey ever made? Nah, that’s how he’d want it.

“Ah fuck, that sucks—” Is the first thing you say, and his face falls, “Expensive food is worth it.” Right back up. Easy to please. “It’s really good, Chef. Thank you. Did you try it yet?”

He shakes his head, so you push the plate with the other half of the sandwich— It’s brisket, anyways. You’ll be full by the end of this one. Portions generous. He looks momentarily hesitant, which is cute, but inevitably leans forward and takes the sandwich. He nods with each chew.

He hums when he finishes chewing, pointing emphatically at you, though his voice is neutral. “You don’t like something, though.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong with it?” He stares at into the cross section of his bite. “Chewy? Texture?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” You’re quick to deny.

He shakes his head, hand over his mouth to hide the sauce on his mouth. “M’not gonna be hurt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the dish, Carmen.” You take another bite to prove your point. Also you’re hungry. Two things can be true.

He zones in on the emphasis immediately. “It’s the plate, isn’t it? I told Syd—”

“Your tables aren’t bolted.” You interrupt, swiftly. Mouth semi-full.

“Huh?”

You put your sandwich down and swallow, taking your time with it. “Your booth tables.”

You knock on the pristine wood with the joints of your left hand. You swivel your body to look under the table, he follows suit, meeting you there. His left leg has been violently shaking, but he’s thought you wouldn’t notice it until now.

You put a hand on his knee to stop the shaking. He bristles, slightly, but you’re not even doing it on purpose. Your focus isn’t on him. It was making the table imperceptibly shift— Which, of course, you clocked. You tap your foot to the bottom of the table leg. No screws. “They aren’t bolted down.”

You lift yourself back up, moving your hand back to yourself in tandem. He stares at it for a little longer. How you noticed that, he will never know. Repairmen are a different breed…

“I just thought it was a weird choice. Nothing wrong with it, per say. Maybe you wanna test different layouts.” You shrug, taking another bite.

“The booths aren’t bolted either.” He adds, lifting his head up above the table, finally. “I don’t— we’re not gonna fuck with the layout, I don’t think.”

“Should get Fak on that, then.”

“Fak’s big-timing us.” You cock your brow, mid chew. He explains. “He’s focusing on hosting, f'now.”

You nod, swallowing, hand in front of your mouth so you can lick the sauce off your upper lip in non-humiliated peace. “This another job for me, then?”

“If you’ll take it.”

“If your fuckin’ toilet doesn’t kill me, I will.”

“How’s that going?”

You shake your hand so-so. “Ask me in two to three hours how it’s going.”

“Heard.” He sighs, leaning back in the booth. The stress is too apparent not to ask.

“How’s the second day open going?”

“I’m not in a fuckin’ freezer, so that’s a win.” Oh-ho, he’s acknowledging it. You were very comfortable forgetting that moment for his sake. “Thanks, uh, f’ that.”

You shake your head, shrugging off the thanks. You lift your last few bites of the sandwich to him. “You’re good. You’ve gifted me brisket. You relax since?”

“Not really.” He replies bluntly, taking a deep inhale. He pulls at his face from the top down, with both hands. Oof. Bad sign. “I think I’ll be good by tomorrow. Gonna get off early, tonight.”

“You don’t seem happy about that.”

“Ask me in two t’ three days if I’m happy about it.”

Back to work and this is taking so much fucking longer than it needs to take. Why is there tape there? Fucking Richie. Fucking Fak. Fucking Mikey. Godssake. Pipes are fixed. Water pressure is fixed. What the fuck is still wrong with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? Everyone is going to hate you if you can’t fix this. You’ve been here for like 5 hours and you can’t figure out what’s fucking wrong here? You’re nothing. You’re—

The toilet does you the favour of knocking you out of your episode by spraying you in the fucking face, soaking through the top of your jumpsuit. With a groan, you unzip the upper half and tie the wet sleeves around your waist. “Son-of-a-bitch.”

Maybe you just need a change in task for a second. Also, a new t-shirt, because your tank did not survive the waterworks either. This room isn’t the thing you need right now. You slip down the hall to the kitchen. “Who needs a coffee? Or water?”

There’s a chorus of orders, all of which sound like you’ve just asked ‘who wants a gift from God?’, which, you might as well have. This is what you like about being a handyman. The relief you bring. You just need a smidge of praise to get through the rest of this job. You’ve got this.

The small, but serviceable coffee machine in very back of the kitchen calls your name, but Richie sticks his arm out, blocking you from walking past expo up front.

“Hol’ up, Cousin, you look like a fuckin’ wet dog.”

“Well, what ‘ya gonna do about it?” You retort, despite the retort not honestly making any sense, you put your hands on your hips. “Do you want a fuckin’ coffee or not?”

He rolls his eyes, falling back onto the balls of his feet before walking off. “Ey, Sug, are those shirts still in the basement—”

You’ve won for now. You scrub your hands clean before getting to work. This is good. Oooh, Marcus has fresh coffee beans (that he’s willing to share!)— This is easy. You can already fix most broken things, but a machine that actually fucking works? Baby, you can make that sing.

Plus, the bartending gigs you’ve done don’t make you a barista by any means, but they certainly don’t hurt. Oooh, Marcus has syrups! Fuck it. Steamed and frothed milk. That toilet has you on your ass, you need to go above and beyond here. Make each cup personal. You need a win in the form of admiration.

You gather a tray of coffees (and a water for Sweeps, who is too fucking sweaty for a hot drink right now, so fair), all varying in milks, sugars, syrups, intensity. “Coffee run, I hand ‘em out, don’t just take! Corner!”

Ebra, to no one’s shock, likes his coffee black— But, and he’ll tell no one this, you just know it on instinct— He likes it a little too watery. “Good.” Who are you to judge? He likes what he likes.

Tina would take hers black for simplicity, if you let her, but of course you don’t. 2 sugars, foamed milk, chocolate and cinnamon syrup. “Too good to me.” It’s too worth it, when she says it like that and slaps your cheek. Balm of the soul.

Marcus, who watched you make these, did opt to let his imagination run too wild and added one of every syrup to his own cup, wanting to experiment with you. It doesn’t taste good. You switch it for a spiced coffee when he’s not looking. He’s silently very thankful.

After handing out a few more to the new cooks, you come up to Syd. “Take this one, take this one.” Then whisper, so no one knows you are displaying supreme favouritism. “It’s the one oat milk latte I made.”

She turns to you from her station, then darts looks over her shoulder like she’s making an under the table deal before grabbing it from you. She takes a delighted sip, eyes rolling just slightly in the relief of caffeine, she nods. “Fire, Chef.” Ah. This will get you through the day alone.

It also gets you through the willpower it takes to ignore Fak running by you to steal a coffee off your tray. Out of the corner of your eye, you point to the one meant for him— As if you didn’t make it for him, c’mon…

“How’s bathroom?” Syd asks, taking another long sip.

I’m going to fucking explode, not unlike your drainage pipe. “Needed a thinking break, but I’ve made a lot of progress. How’s kitchen?”

“Made a lot of progress. Auto-piloting through this prep.” She looks down at her cutting board, cracking back to it. “Latte helps, a lot, thank you. You should join for family, if you’re still here for it. Unless you don’t want more brisket.”

Fuck. She doesn’t think you’re so slow that you’re gonna be here until family, does she? “Yeah, maybe.” You look around, three coffees still on the tray. “...Where’s Carmen?”

She grimaces. Uh oh. The tension she glossed over at breakfast is still definitely there. She nods her head to the back door. “Smoke break. Or temper tantrum. I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t tell him I said that.” You laugh, nodding. “You think a coffee would help—” “Please.”

“Corner!” Yells Richie, returning to you. He silently flicks out a shirt for you, holding it up proudly, ‘THE BERF’ stares back at you. You give it a solid five seconds to process before you say anything.

“Collector’s item...” You nod, tone sarcastically impressed. You pivot your shoulder for him to throw it over, hands too busy.

“That’s what I fuckin’ said!” He throws it over your shoulder. “No one fuckin’ listens, these days.”

You bite back laughter and nod, handing him his coffee. Hot. Dark. Two sugars. And, to his delighted surprise, a touch of cinnamon syrup. “Oh, fuck, missed your twists, Chip.”

You wince at what was a long-forgotten nickname, and so does Richie. Funny how remembering origins can do that to you. He’d just said it so instinctively, really. “My bad—”

“Chip is good.” You interrupt, rolling your shoulders back. And it is good, really. “It’s kinda—It’s kinda comforting.” It’s nice to not forget. He nods, and you give each other the ‘we are still so fucked, eh?’ smile before lovingly bumping shoulders as he returns to expo and you head to the back alley.

Carmen’s squatting, cigarette in one hand, creating a halo of smoke around him, and his phone in the other. He snaps out of his mental fog when the door opens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his apron like he’s got a secret to hide.

You hesitate at the doorway, maybe this is not the moment. “Sorry, Chef, I just wanted to offer a coffee? If you need air alone—”

“No, no, I’m good—” He’s quick to correct, then even quicker to correct himself. “I— I’ll take a coffee, I mean. You can stay, s’fine.”

He reaches for it when you sit next to him, but you pull the tray back to hand him the correct one. “Sorry, I—I like, did a thing, for yours. I dunno how you take your coffee, so I thought I’d do it weird.”

He takes the cup, eying it curiously. “Do it weird?”

“Do it like, like a Chef. Can’t make anything fuckin’ simple. The lot of you.”

He hums, amused, staring at the cup, then looks at you expectantly. “Well?”

“Well?”

“Do the thing.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck off.”

“C’mon, tell me why I should care.” He teases.

“Ah, fuck.” You sniff, oh to have your own words turned on you. Looking at the coffee in his hands, “I figured you’d like strong black coffee, but like, complex. So, it’s got like, cardamom and lavender n’ maple syrup. Shout out Marcus.” He smiles. “And then, I know I did just say black coffee but I wanted the aesthetic so I spooned foamed milk on top and sprinkled on some dried lavender.” You take your own cup in hand, putting the tray down. “If you hate it, we’ll trade.”

He pays close attention to your explanation. Man, his eye contact is simultaneously so soft and so scary. He takes a sip. Let’s it sit in his mouth for a second. “Excellent, Chef.”

Oh, if Syd’s ‘Fire’ could get you through the day, Carmen’s ‘Excellent’ will get you through the week to spare. You hide the way you beam by drinking your own coffee.

“How’re you doing?” It’s far too obvious that he’s had something heavy on his head all day, but you’re not going to say the quiet part loud, yet.

He takes a long time to respond. “I, uh…” And when he does, it’s weak. “I’m alright, yeah. I’m alright.”

You nod repeatedly, digesting the huge lie. “Ask me how I’m doing.”

He squints. “…How’re you—”

“Fuckin’ terrible, Carm.” You cut him off, putting your cup down next to him, standing up. You speak emphatically, gesturing with your whole body.

“I’m at my wits, Chef. Completely out of my depth. I fix the main pipe, I fix the water pressure, I triple check the tank, I fuckin’ power cycle the valve— I’m absolutely at a loss as to why it’s still gurgling— Why it shot water straight at my tits— Close your eyes, if you care, by the way.”

With barely any warning you peel off your tank top, you’ve got a bra, it’s fine. It’s very cute that he still looks away. You slip the new shirt over your head as you speak, muffling the words.

“—I’m wearing a shirt that says Berf, and the only way I can feel any semblance of not being utterly useless is by making coffees so good everyone has to praise me for them. And now I’m telling the fucking owner, my boss for the day all this.”

He nods, slowly. There is perhaps, not a single person in his life that has ever been this forthright. Someone he hasn’t had to over-analyze or dig into to figure out what’s actually going on. It is refreshing, terrifying, and for some reason, removing your walls have completely shattered his.

“So.” You lower your head to his level where he sits. “How are you doing, Chef?”

He takes a long sip of his coffee. Stews on the question before he spills his guts, calmly. “I’m sitting outside of the restaurant I started that I own, and my brother should be here, but he’s not and— And I was locked in a fuckin’ freezer on my opening night, which was my own fuckin’ fault— And the tape is wrong and the painting is stupid and that new hire did meth so now we’re down one.” He takes a deep breath.

“And we have Heinz instead of Frenchies, and it’s fine. That’s the fucked part— It’s fine. The ship did not sink without me— It went fine. Better, maybe. My problems aren’t fuckin’ problems. I’m just making it worse for myself— everyone. And I know Syd is mad at me, and I know my— My girlfriend? Is mad at me, and I know that I’m gonna break up with her tonight because I’m not meant to be— that.” He says the last part fast, more to himself than you, really. And then he finally looks back up at you.

“And I’m telling all of this to the person who saved me from hypothermia and a fuckin’—Fuckin’ meltdown, who probably thinks— knows that I’m a psycho.”

You take a beat before nodding, sitting next to him again, arms crossed. Silent. Contemplative. “I have thoughts.”

He nods, taking a drag. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Well, to start most honestly, we must remember, I love Syd. So, I’m not gonna mince about her.”

“Heard.”

You recall everything Sydney had told you at breakfast. The recap of how she got to this point. “Syd isn’t mad at you, she’s disappointed and distrustful.”

He grimaces. “That sounds worse.”

“It is.”

“Oh.”

“But in a way you can fix.”

“How?”

“Handle shit different. Actually show up to shit and make calls. Manage your priorities by urgency— Not by favourites. If I broke my fuckin’ arm and your ‘girlfriend’ had a runny nose, who are you taking to the hospital?”

“You can’t take yourself?”

“Bitch?”

“Kidding. Heard. What else?”

“You’re not gonna tell her I said this because she would rather die than tell someone she wants something.” You lean closer to him, peeking over your shoulder to make sure no one’s secretly come from the kitchen. You knock into his knees.

He takes another drag, short, choked. “Sure.”

“You were kind of a bitch about the menu.”

“The chaos menu? She said—”

“She fucking lied. She lied when she said it was fine, Carm, it does not take a psychic to read Syd’s mind.” You interrupt, taking a sip of your coffee. “She was so excited to get to build a menu, especially with—” you, “—a partner, and then you completely ditched her. And then you just made your own! Total control freak shit! Cut her out of the fun part of being head chef completely! You get to invent masterpieces and she picks out the best cheap plate? Fuck is that?”

He nods contemplatively, poking his inner cheek. “Yeah, that, that makes sense. That’s shitty.” He turns his gaze from looking ahead to face you, hand over the bottom half of his face. “What else?”

“You’re reactive.”

“No shit.”

“How long do you think you were locked in the walk-in for?”

He swallows, thinking. “Like… an hour?”

“It had been 23 minutes.”

“Oh.”

“You catastrophize, it’s a fancy therapy word,” You cannot help but be impressed by this white man writing down the word in his phone for later. “It means, basically, when something bad happens you blow it completely out of proportion into something it isn’t. Your opening night was definitely a bummer from being in a freezer— But be honest with yourself, would you have let yourself have a good night if you weren’t in there?”

“…No.”

“No. Which is also bad. Which brings me to my key point.”

He tenses up, preparing for you to rip into him further.

“You’re doing a good job, Carmy.”

He immediately swivels back to you, almost dropping his phone. Knee knocking into yours. “Fuck off.”

“I will not.”

“You just said I was a catastrophe.”

“Fully not what I said.”

“I read between the lines.”

“Carmen.”

You take a breath, putting your arms on your knees, bent over. “The restaurant is beautiful, your cooks are talented and they’re prepared— So prepared that they can handle 23 minutes without you. That’s a good thing. You’re threaded into The Bear— The ship didn’t sink, not because you weren’t there, but because you had been. Everyone had the tools they needed to succeed, even with Heinz, a Mid painting, and torn tape. And listen—” You take one last sip of your coffee. “You need to check your ego if you think you’re the first man I’ve coaxed through a panic attack while doing a repair.”

He laughs, half-heartedly. He scratches his nose. “Heard. Yeah, thank you, Chef.”

“I don’t know shit about the meth thing though, I really couldn’t tell you.” You smile when this coaxes a better laugh out of him. You’re considering a career in stand up exclusively for him because it feels like such a reward to hear it.

“And the girl?” He asks. Amusement tinging but leaving his voice.

You click your teeth, shrugging your shoulders at him. “Based purely on your hesitation to say girlfriend, I’d say yeah, probably not ready for a relationship.” You reach your hand out to his shoulder when he flops his head down. “But, just asking, is this your first relationship?”

He thinks for too long before nodding slightly. “First one.”

“First restaurant too?”

He nods again.

“Yeah.” You pat his shoulder before letting it go, opting to hold your cooling cup. “I know you’re a Michelin star fuckin’ big deal but like, me personally, I can’t name a thing I got perfect the first time I did it.”

There’s something in his eyes, when you say that. Something wistful, nostalgic, hurt? No. Something different.

“It’s not that I didn’t do perfect—”

“You’ll do better next time.”

He wrings his hands together between his knees. “Yeah.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Carm.”

“You’re good at that.” He sniffs, head down, scratching his nose.

“At what? Self-help?”

He exhales what just barely sounds like a laugh. “Kinda. S’just, when you say it, you say it in a way where I actually believe it.”

You’re getting the fuck out of here before they open for dinner. You’re not letting anyone down tonight motherfucker. The Berf shall prevail. Maybe a win here will feel like a win for Carmen, too.

You run the sink to wash your hands, as you’ve done before here— But since fixing the pipes and the pressure… Something’s… different. You pause your scrubbing, listening closely.

…

When the sink is running, the gurgling flow of water from the toilet stops. Huh. You stop and start the faucet a few times to verify this. Yeah. You stare for a long moment before connecting the dots, then punch the sink in realization.

“Fucking Mikey!”

“What’d he do this time?”

You twist around. Ah, other sibling. Natalie. Clipboard in hand, business ready. You take a beat before remembering to smile, nodding to the sink behind you. “He connected the tank flow to the toilet and the sink with one wire.”

She tilts her head, squinting. “Why would he do that?”

“I suspect to save water?” You spin around, kneeling down to look behind the sink. “I think the idea was to have the sink not function when the toilet is flushing. But, it uh, well, did the reverse, kinda. Toilet doesn’t function when the sink isn’t running.”

“Oh.”

“So uh,” You shut the valve under the sink. “Your water bill should go down a little after this, since it won’t be running into what is an essentially a second trap pipe.”

“Oh!” Did she get what you said? No. But she doesn't need to. She heard ‘bill should go down’ and that’s really all she needed. “Thank you!”

“Not a problem. S’my job.” You stand, shutting off the valve to the toilet as well. As you kneel down to work again, you feel her gaze burning into your back. You don’t turn to face her. “You have questions.”

“Oh, ah… Am I so obvious—?”

“Yes.” You’re too quick to answer, unbolting the wires where it attaches to the toilet and the ground. You sniff with a panicked, “Ah, uh, it’s endearing.”

She’s quiet, for a moment. She doesn’t ask you what she actually wants to ask you, and you know that. “Well, I’ll need to exchange info for your invoice.”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout that, your brother already covered it.” You stand once more, before going to the sink to undo it’s valve, you fish through the deep pocket of your jumpsuit, pulling out a crumpled business card and handing it to her.

“But it’s good to have my info on hand, for sure. It’s ah… Kinda old.” Kinda is an understatement. Your dad’s name is still on it, scribbled out in pen and replaced with yours. The dead business line is also scribbled out in exchange for your personal cell.

“It’s uh… I usually only work for friends and family, these days, so I’ve kinda stopped trying to keep up appearances.”

She smiles at it. Thank God, she finds it charming and not sloppy. She tucks it into the clasp of her clipboard. “That’s fine, we are friends and family.”

All you can do is nod, pivoting to the sink. There's a beat of peace.

“Didn’t see you at the funeral.”

Ah. There it is. For a Bear, she sure knows how to poke one. You stutter in unscrewing the bolt.

“Would’ve been nice to meet you, then.”

You clear your throat, it's strangled. “Yeah, I think I was trying to avoid introductions, honestly. Grief comes in different ways, eh?”

“Does it?”

“Mine does.” You swallow, unbolting the wire. With it free, you can just yank it out of the wall. God, forgive your brain, but Mikey was right, she does like to fight. Too bad you don’t.

She just hums in reply, watching you pull the wire from the wall. “You’re a real lifesaver.”

Fuck. Fuck. Lifesaver? Is she fucking with you?

“That toilet sprayed me right in the face, yesterday. And you saved Carmen.” There’s an amused lilt to her voice. She’s not fucking with you. “There’s something about a handywoman that Fak cannot match.”

You can hear a faint ‘Hey!’ through the walls. You laugh through an exhale.

“Again, s’my job. I do my best. Did uh, what was it, Terry come by for the walk-in? I wasn’t looking when I was there.”

You sort through your tools, deciding caulking the holes closed is probably the best option.

“He came over basically overnight to fix it, bless him, still don’t know his name.”

You laugh, it’s a little strangled. So Carmen did stay overnight. He must’ve. You smooth out the caulk with your thumb and a palette knife. Blending it into the grout as best as you can. “Good. Good.”

You dust yourself off. Standing. “Well. That’s uh. That’s my job done. Carmen asked me about—”

“Bolting down the booths?” She nods, checking the time on her watch. There’s not enough time before lunch to do it now. Plus you don’t have the screws. “You’re free to come by in the morning tomorrow—”

“But?” You interrupt, throwing your tool bag over your shoulder.

“But?”

“You said free like you’ve got a preference, what do you prefer?”

She chuckles, slightly. There is something about you that feels familiar. “If you could come after close tonight around 12, that would be nice—”

“It’s done. I’ll be there.”

“Lifesaver. I'll give you the code.”

Fuck.

Always gotta give the reader/mc some sort of mysterious background that even you don't have all the info on. Always.

Hehehehe, again, we're slowing this burn so much. Strangers to Friends to lovers but they're both so comfortable in friends it's hard to move !!

Forewarning, btw, if you've already sunk 10k worth of words into your brain for me (thank you!! I hope you've enjoyed!!), I've never written smut before and I feel like I probably will not build up the courage to do so by the end of this series, but I could prove myself wrong, I dunno. But warning in case that's your thing!! I might blue ball you babe!!

Pretty please tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my Berf shirt. Collector's value!! Thrown away!!

Next Part

[rassvetsky]

would literally lose my fucking mind if you wrote carmy like touch starved, idk maybe everyone is staying after to celebrate something and he’s dragging you into his office to eat you out with absolutely zero shame because he needs it so bad

your wish is my lifelong quest i love you, hope i did it at least some justice loml

Carry You Away With Me

carmen "carmy" berzatto x fem!reader

He looked sheepish for a moment, lips curling into a grin for another split second before returning to his natural expression, eyes finding yours and locking you into his gaze. "Do you think anyone would notice if I took you elsewhere right now?"

[4k] | chef ill be honest with you this is just porn, needy!carmy (he's fucking adorable), office sex if that's even a term, established relationship, cunningulus, unprotected sex, cum-play. my apologies to the church

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

It was around 11 when you returned to the restaurant with a bottle of champagne cradled in your arms, watching as Gary and Tina pushed a few tables together to make a bigger one for the rest. Eating together wasn't a rare occurrence, but it often only happened an hour before service in the morning— dinners were mostly had at home or skipped altogether, depending on the importance one put into their health. But tonight called for an after-hours get-together, one that Sydney and Marcus pushed for when Ebraheim showed up in the morning with the latest issue of Gastronomica, featuring a very familiar name this time around— Carmen Berzatto.

"You know— I bet you can like, make it to a Vogue issue sometime later on, too."

"That's not exactly food-related."

"I'm just saying, dream high and—"

The few clinks of a spoon against the glass cut Fak right off and Carmen made a mental note to thank god for that later on, his gaze lifting from the long, full table that everyone was surrounding to the source of the sound; the now-empty champagne glass that Richie held.

"Can we all take a moment to stop stuffing our faces with this whatever-the-fuck it is to congratulate my cousin right here?" he spoke up, bringing a smile to your lips as you reached for Carmen's hand from under the table and muttered out "chou à la crème", another dish that Marcus had been experimenting with lately. A short chuckle left Carmen's lips when he vaguely heard what you said, and he gave your hand a firm, appreciative squeeze before rubbing his thumb along the back of your palm. "Gastronomica isn't just any magazine. I think it's supposed to be one of the good ones, like—"

"—the Vogue of food!"

"Maybe! Who knows, anyway— really, I'm proud of this mess of a man and you all should be, too." and maybe this was the most affection that Richie could whip out in public, but it was more than enough— because despite his hate for having the spotlight directly on him, Carmen was currently busy offering a smile to Richie, which the other reciprocated shortly before sitting back down, his quiet little hum of affection drowned out by the mutterings of 'cheers' along with the clink of everyone's glasses.

Proud was an understatement for this little dysfunctional found-family.

But you knew Carmen, you knew that he'd much rather skip on the compliments and pats to the shoulder; and you were way too sure that he'd need a moment to himself sooner or later. That moment came almost fifteen minutes after, when everyone split themselves into a few groups of completely different conversations, scooped up chocolate sauce and cream and small pieces of the delicate pastry got left behind on the empty plates— you felt Carmy's fingers wrapping around your upper thigh, concealed by the dimmed out lights and the table.

"S'up?" you returned your attention to him upon feeling his fingers tapping along to some nonexistent rhythm on your clothed skin, not too invested in the story Richie was busy telling everybody with the loudest voice he could muster to begin with.

He looked sheepish for a moment, lips curling into a grin for another split second before returning to his natural expression, eyes finding yours and locking you into his gaze. "Do you think anyone would notice if I took you elsewhere right now?"

"Elsewhere?"

"Not too far, jus' my office. For a couple of minutes at most." he leaned in closer to your ear just so you could hear him over the 2012's pop playlist Manny whipped out earlier, a completely mesmerizing turn of events when he started singing along to a random Katy Perry song— but that leaning closer action proved Carmen to be just another self-saboteur because he was feeling specifically out of place all day and to feel your perfume so close was a pull with a force out of this world. He couldn't pull back away then, couldn't return to his own chair and you had no choice but to push him away manually. "I promise."

"Any ulterior motives I should be aware of?" you grinned, letting your fingers curl right over his own on your thigh— and making a mental note to ease him into the habit of using hand moisturizers regularly sometime, upon the roughed up feel of his skin.

"You wound me, baby." his expression seemed to linger over offense, but his eyes told a completely different story; and before you knew it, he was pushing his chair back to get up, patting Gary's shoulder on his way to the back of house, a momentary turn of his head just so he could silently tell you to follow with his eyes.

And that, you did, despite the raised eyebrows of Richie's that you met along the way.

The kitchen smelled like a different kind of citrus, one that only belonged in dishwashing detergents as you maneuvered through the stations, cleaned up from the day's worth of filth. From your peripheral vision, you noticed Carmen reaching behind to undo the strings of his navy apron, leaving out the top string that he'd have to pull over his head until you could catch up and he could get to the office. His shirt was, again, as pristine as ever and it was a work of magic how he managed to come back home with a perfectly clean white t-shirt each day, if not for a few little drops here and there.

Finally, he pushed open the door of his office for you and you stepped in, finding your way to his desk in the darkness to flip the switch of the small light that illuminated the paperwork mostly. When your eyes found him again, the apron was long gone— tucked away in a corner, folded, although not so neatly. "Happy now?"

Instead of a reply, he just plopped down on the old, squeaky chair by the desk, thighs spread and arms wide open to make space for you. You took the offer right away, seating yourself on one of his thighs but still balancing yourself on your feet too, in order to not just dump your whole body weight on him and potentially numb out his leg. He couldn't care less, as he wrapped himself around you tightly and pulled you closer. "I don't really give a shit about Gastronomica."

"I figured," you mumbled against the material of his shirt, lungs filling in with a scent that only he could carry— a surprisingly pleasant mix of cigarettes, sweat, and gravy. It belonged to him, at least. "When's the last time you gave a shit about anyone's opinion outside of here, anyway?"

A soft hum left his lips, one that feigned agreement— but he wasn't paying much attention to what you've been saying to begin with, mind all muddied with specific moments in time that included you. Come to think of it, he'd been like this all day, even when Richie jokingly smacked him across the face with the magazine or when Tina elbowed him while he was trying to explain why she had to strain the mixture twice to get a flowing consistency— on the back of his mind, there was always you; always the lack of time he got to spend with you when the rush hour got too much to bear and he couldn't bring himself to lift an arm when he came back home to you.

When was the last time he properly touched you, took his time to memorize all the little ridges and beauty spots across your body, he couldn't remember.

So as you spoke, listing out all the reasons why he should be proud of himself for all the accomplishments, Carmen's arm curled around your waist and his fingers found your thighs again, the warmth of his palm seeping through the material of your leggings and from the way they teased upwards, you knew where this was going. "... that you managed to turn— are you not listening?"

His smile was so smug that you wanted to either kiss, or slap him. "Not really. But go on."

"Carmy, if you actually think that I'll do anything non-churchy with you here while everyone's literally twenty feet away, you're so wrong." you breathed out, because that's all you could do when his lips ghosted over the side of yours, before trailing down to where your jawline met your neck. He only hummed as a reply, clearly not giving a shit about your opinion either at that moment— but to say that you weren't enjoying the attention would be a blatant lie.

His fingertips traced the seams outlining your underwear through the extra layer of fabric while his lips latched to your neck, finally, with his warm breath hitting against the sensitive skin and the usual wet nature of his kisses leaving behind a glistening spot of adoration. You leaned into it, rather shamelessly— legs parting and fingers carding through the locks on the nape of his neck, and that only encouraged him further, causing him to whisper out a curse and a few sloppy words of praise. "Just let me, hm? Please?"

The sense of desperation in his tone was enough to push back any words of disagreement that you could blurt out at that moment. You knew you had to power through, it would be so embarrassing and disrespectful to let him have his way with you right here, while everyone else was still at the FOH— but the way his palm covered your clothed core and his fingertips teased the slight outline of your slit, all while his pretty lips were oh so busy whispering absolute filth in your ear was slowly taking away all the care you had in the world. "Carm— not a good idea."

"You weren't saying that last week, right here," two weeks ago, to be exact, but you couldn't blame him for not being able to tell time apart. "Had to cover your mouth and all, s'loud for me—"

"You're getting carried away." you chuckled, the deepest of breaths still not enough for the capacity of your lungs as you tugged on his locks slightly, prying him off of your skin just so you could get a look at him.

"Let me carry you away with me. Please, fuck— I can't think of anything else when you're on my mind." he pulled away a little from your neck, eyes of pristine skies staring right at your soul with the expression of a kicked puppy— he knew exactly how to get his way when he was miserable like that. His fingers were still against your heat, expecting permission. "Ten minutes only, just let me touch you."

You could recognize that tone, that incurability way too well— it was often reserved for nights shared between hushed whispers of promises, where he was too needy to form a single thought and all he could do was to cover your body with his and curl onto you, to feel your warmth against himself and to be one body and one soul for an hour. Uncommon in nature, even rarer to take place in a room that he reserved for professional affairs only— but the heart wants what it wants.

To his surprise, you suddenly pushed your lips against his— letting his fever take over you as well, with your hands clutching onto his shoulders and hair. You could hear the slight groan escaping his lips when his fingers breached under the tight waistband of your leggings, pushing the material down slightly with the bend of his wrist before turning his hand a little to tug it all downwards, urging you up on your feet. You got up from where you were seated, now standing between his legs with your back bent just so your lips would be on his, but he broke the kiss with a smile that took over when he finally pulled down both articles of clothing at the same time. Your back straightened when he managed to push them both down to your ankles, your hands on his shoulders to help with your balance as you stepped out of them, feeling his moist lips over your abdomen for a second before he pushed you backwards slightly, towards the desk.

He took that momentary advantage to get up on his feet and pin you right in between his own body and the desk, hands blindly pushing the loose folders to the side. You felt too exposed when his palms gripped the underside of your thighs just to prop you up on the desk, lips finding and panting against yours, a clear indication of his need seeping through the way he tugged and nibbled before his tongue found its way to caress yours.

There was nothing nice about it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care— not when he whispered your name against the plush of your lips so sweetly when your fist closed around his hair, not when he didn't even know what to do with his hands; grabbing, fondling at every inch of your skin that he could reach shakily. He pulled you flush against his body, letting you get a feel of the harsh dark denim against your bare center and you had to bite into his lower lip to stay quiet, ultimately earning a groan from him when his hands slipped under your shirt.

"Bear," you whispered out, his lips chasing yours when you pulled away to speak— which made you chuckle quietly, as he looked at you again. "Ten minutes."

"Ten minutes," he parroted, the usually wide eyes of his now hooded, pupils blown out as if he was looking right at the sun. When you reached in to kiss him again, you couldn't catch him fast enough— he was already holding onto your thighs to crouch down, looking up at you with a Cheshire grin when you spread your legs a little further apart, a force of habit.

Leaning back on your palms against the desk as much as the cramped space could allow, you took a deep breath— but it wasn't enough to prepare you for what came next when his tongue trailed a bold line across your slit, spreading your folds apart gently. It was a pleasant routine, one that you never quite got used to; because when he was down on his knees with his tongue tracing abstract shapes across your clit in a teasing manner, it was all about you and to think that a guy who often rushed things and went through life at a 2x pace would slow down just to put all of his attention on your pleasure only was more delightful than any compliment one could attain.

Carmen's fingertips were perhaps digging into the skin of your thighs a bit too hard, but could you possibly complain? The tip of his tongue dipped between your folds to spread your essence upwards, a mix of his saliva and your wetness covering your clit when he closed his lips around it and sucked— letting out a blissed groan, one that he'd scold you for if you were the culprit. You could only imagine how hard he must've been at that moment, he was always a sucker for situations like this, with the thrill of doing something so forbidden, right where he could be caught and your taste on his tongue, thighs on either side of his shoulders.

Imagining it didn't help your situation at all, it was hard to focus on one coherent thought when he kept flicking his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves but you forced through— with the thought of the blunt tip of his length all flushed and leaking in your palm, curses leaving his soft lips whenever your fingers got a bit too tight around the girth. He liked it when you put your focus there, tip of your tongue tracing the slit and leaving kisses over it while the rest of your palm jerked him off— firm and slow.

And you'd always let your lips stray when he got close, deciding to suddenly bite into the skin of his inner thighs or to lightly trace his perineum with your tongue, just to have him reduced to a writhing, whining mess with not enough air to survive in his lungs. He'd spill onto your fingers and you'd clean him up right away, moving your way upwards with wet little kisses until you reached his lips. And he was one dirty fucker because tasting himself on you when you kissed him all sloppily was probably one of his favorite things in the world.

Drowned out in all the thoughts, you didn't notice how close you were until your thighs were shaking around his shoulders, and he finally added his fingers into the mix then— his middle and ring fingers easily breaching through, grazing all of your sensitive spots from the inside. You had to press your palm against your mouth to not let a sound then, when your climax finally hit you, and you'd probably slide right off the table with how quaky your whole body was at that moment if it wasn't for Carmen's strong grip on your body, holding you right where you belong.

The position was a bit merciless on his legs so far but he made it up to his feet again, giving you a light peck on your lips before his fingers found his mouth, his tongue circling the digits to clean them up as he stared right at you, into your soul. He pulled them out with a slight pop, and licked his lips clean. "How long did we take?"

"I don't know," you panted out. "I was busy imagining the way you come."

His light laughter brought a tender, yet bittersweet ache to your heart. "Fuck, you get off to that?" and you could tell him all about just how beautiful he was, and how much it turned you on to see him blissed out in pleasure— but you didn't know if your lung capacity allowed for it at that moment, as being quiet came with the benefit of holding your breath for longer than you should. "Tell me more."

You giggled against his lips when he braced himself on the desk with his two hands holding onto the edge on both sides of your thighs. Both of your hands moved down to the front of his pants, too fucked out to care about timing as you palmed him through the material just to see that grin on his lips falter. "I'm gonna make you jack off and watch sometime." you mumbled, slowly pulling the zipper down after setting him free from the belt and the button. He hummed, forehead to forehead, before reaching for another little peck.

"As much as I don't see why I should jack off while you're in front of me," he spoke, a sharp intake of breath cutting his line of thought halfway through when your fingers finally wrapped around his cock. "but— shit, if you're into that… Only if you do it w'me, though. I wanna watch too."

"You don't get to watch." you sighed, bringing him closer with your legs to line his length up with your entrance. "You're just gonna sit there and come on your hand like a loser."

Carmen couldn't help the short snort that left him. "Are you even capable of being mean to me?"

"Mm-hm, I'm very mean when I wanna be." and right after that, his tip slid right into your cavern, pulling a deep exhale from both of you when he pushed a bit deeper. His lips found yours, mostly to keep the noises at bay while his hips rolled into yours, grinding against you before retreating a little, only to push in harder this time around.

You felt so full and blessed that you didn't even have to imagine anything to get lost in the feeling.

His pants slid further downwards with each thrust until they pooled around his ankles and your thighs wrapped tighter around his body, trapping him in. His arms were so delicately wrapped around your waist that you had to hold onto him with your whole remaining power to not slide further towards the wall, but he couldn't exactly notice that when he was feeling so damn lucky, whole length wrapped in a warmth beyond his comprehension.

And again, you couldn't blame him, because neither of you managed to notice when the skin slapping against skin got a bit too loud, and your lips pulled away from his just to breathe out the filthiest little nothings, like how much you needed him to fill you right up to the brim. "Fuck, give it to me." your hips met his thrusts half-way through when you pushed yourself against him. "Carmy, come inside me, please."

"Yeah? Are you gonna take it all?" his voice sounded broken, and his fingers would surely leave imprints on your hips with how tight his grip was. "Won't let you waste a drop, baby. I won't."

Somehow, through how feral he was with the way you were begging him, the responsible side came forward and captured your lips in his again— because while his team was full of respectful people, they were also little shits who would never live it down if they heard those beautiful sounds that escaped your lips with each hit of his blunt head against your sweet spot. The thought somehow egged him on further— he couldn't exactly decide if he was too possessive to let anyone hear or if he was possessive enough to make sure everyone knew he belonged to you, but at that moment, both of those thoughts turned him on too much, enough for him to feel his high approaching. And judging by the way your walls cramped down on him tighter with each passing second, you weren't too far behind.

You could feel yourself gushing around him, coating both of you in your essence beyond simple cleaning, but that was a matter to worry about later, not when the love of your life was balls-deep inside of you, his rough grunts right against your ear when he reached to press his lips right below it. "Close?" he mumbled, and even though your mind was too busy to hear and comprehend him properly, you nodded— feeling his arms wrapping around you tighter, pulling you closer to the warmth his body provided. And while as much as you'd like to keep this going for longer, witnessing his pace falter and voice break as he moaned out your name, filling you up in the most delicious way slowly was enough to have your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure, and to have the knot finally snap.

Your whole body was buzzing, shaky even when he held you so tight against his chest as if you'd vanish right there and then— something that he always did after sex, no matter the circumstance. You giggled wearily against his shoulder, leaving a few kisses here and there before he pulled away slightly to pull you into a kiss— nothing like the ones you shared in the past minutes, this one was all sweet and loving. "Might drip if I pull out."

"You can't stay there forever, Carm."

"Oh, but I want to." he huffed out but still moved to slowly pull out of you anyway, having you both hiss in sensitivity and just like he thought, his come was ready to spill all over the place. Quick-thinker in nature, he caught his seed with his fingers right before they could go further, pushing them back into you just to hear you gasp— and slap his shoulder playfully.

"You're a fucking freak."

"Shut up— round two at my place? Kinda wanna see where that watching me jerk off fantasy of yours might lead us."

a/n: once again i could be easily manipulated into breaking into your house with a part two, who knows

also @carmensberzattos consider this a marriage proposal

[yannaryartside]

A brief essay of Sydcarmy breaking the old curses in Carmy’s life

There is something so beautiful about Carmy falling for someone that is such a honest person (sometimes even to her own detriment) as Syd is.

Carmy grow up being gaslighted by his abusive mother and his emotionally absent brother (that despite everything is probably the closest thing Carmy actually had to a parent). Even really important things like why his father left of what is the source of income of the family are trapped on in mistery. The stories Michael repeated to serve (what he thought) was his function as the glue of the family (that were all some bullshit), failing to be up front about his addiction and asking for help. The toxicity, the pain, the problems. Nothing is ever addressed or called for what it really is. Avoidance was the way to cope. Lying to themselves was the way to cope.

You can see this still affects Carmy, how he jumps every time someone seems to give him passive aggressive hints (and it’s something that is happening, even Nat does it regularly). He seems to be very vigilant as a kid of what he could do to upset people (also because people around him were not honest about the actual issues, so he thought every time mommy was angry it had to be something about him) and that’s probably why he was so shy.

And then there is Syd, she was just so earnest and transparent even if the beef was not the ambience that supports or celebrates people like that. They still reject Pete, which is kinda the extreme of this concept. I think they even hightailed it by making Pete a lawyer (yk the representation of black and white the law should be).

This family tends to swipe things under the rug until there is an explosion.

(This is not me blaming them for Michael’s death, but his depression and addiction were festered in that house, in those dynamics)

That scene in fishes when he tried to convey to Michael that he felt ignored and abandoned by him and Michael just dismissed it? Carmy really doesn’t seem to be able to distinguish honesty from fakeness, maybe because he desperately wants it to be true.

This is also the reason why I think he hadn’t picked up on some of Claire’s toxic tactics where they were getting to know each other “you own me” “say that again” “I will let the Faks to beat you up”. I think Claire is putting a nice girl facade and he is eating it up (so is everyone else).

His anxiety on the other hand may be his instincts ticking up. If she is so much peace, why his anxiety seems to be around (and even created) in their most intimate moments (he remembering their love making scene, and when they were talking about traumatic experiences and Claire admitted to malpractice)?

This man really doesn’t have much self assurance or boundaries. I imagine he developed the anger outbursts despite himself as a way to defend himself (and mirroring the behaviors around him)

And then there is Syd, she says out loud what she wants or needs even if the environment around her may challenge her. She has not lied to Carmy or assumed anything of him even when at this point she had every reason to do so. She could have given up on him since s2, stop communicating all together and being passive aggressive as the rest of the crew in s3,

Idk, I even wonder if the reason he doesn’t admit he has feelings for her is because what he is feeling cannot be love, because, for him, love is supposed to be half good half bad, that you have to give parts of your dignity to be loved, that your loved ones may manipulate you or lie to you “because they love you so much”

But of course, Syd is not like that.

The scene of them in the back of the restaurant is so special for me because of this. They talked. They were honest. They made compromises and amendments. I don’t think he had much of this growing up

“I love you” was love but a knife at the same time, because it was used to paint over wounds that were still fresh, without ever addressing the issue that were causing it.

And I know in s3 Syd is at fault too, she really cannot stand in front of Carmy and put a stop on the madness yet and I wonder what may give her the courage to do so. While carmy was frozen, it felt like Syd was paddling desperately in dark waters and managing to sink deeper the more she fight it.

This was kinda the most intriguing element of Syd’s character for me recently, how she is super aware of what she wants and how she feels but seems equally incapable of going against whatever flow she is trapped in. She could have seen Sheridan Road was not stable. But she ran into it full speed until it burned. She could have left the beef at one sight of the toxicity. She had reasons to leave every season.

In that sense she also mirrors Carmy. The difference between these two is that carmy keeps doing the same thing hoping for a different result because he thinks the toxic way is the only way (of being a chef, to be the best). He sees toxic as good/professional/justifiable, even only subconsciously. While Syd is capable of seeing the toxicity for what it is. She knows what to do to fix it. Is lot like she id afraid to implement change it, that’s why she got here in the first place.

Idk what it is that terrifies her so much. Maybe she is subconsciously is afraid of her own truths? Maybe she is afraid of the person she will be in the other side of this equation. Is there something that happened in the past (maybe her mother’s death) that left her feeling like a broken doll, an incomplete equation, afraid of her own voice? Maybe she (subconsciously) doesn’t want to go full intent into the right direction just so she doesn’t have to find out if she really has what it takes to do this?

Whatever it is, if she is the one that can see the toxicity and react to it, (because everyone else is still trapped in it) then I believe Syd completing her arc could be the catalyst for all the other elements of the story to fall in order, for better or worse.

[gallaghersgal]

I don’t know if someone has sent something like this in but I had a thought the other night about getting in an argument with Richie (and previous not having gotten into many with him, being shy and staying in your lane as a waitress) in the restaurant and he says something not intending for it to be suggestive, but it is. You reacting positively to it but leaving embarrassed. He unintentionally follows you out and asks you about it. Jksodhe I’m sorry for rambling 😖😖

this ask has been wasting away since... idk probably july. but it's itching my brain all of a sudden so. mature for suggestive language. pre-canon setting!

the bullshit that richard jerimovich put you through. god, it would be enough for anyone to just walk out. but you needed this job, so you put up with his nonsense. at least he's easy on the eyes.

today he's in the dining area with fak, slamming the side of the ball machine every time the younger man makes a mistake. there's a rush happening too, or at least there was. you michael, and ebra handled it all. much to your disdain mikey just laughs it off when you bring richie's absence to his attention, telling you, "relax kid, we can handle this shit. let the old man fuck around."

you groan as you wipe your hands, fingers feeling tender from all the piping hot sandwiches you'd just served up. you march your way into the dining area intending to give that old fuck a piece of your mind. he brushes you off similarly to his friend, you swear sometimes those two are just iterations of the same person.

"fucks sake princess, i don't see a line out the door," he jabs, gesturing obnoxiously towards the now empty area.

"oh, fuck you richie," you spit back at him, reaching out to shove him lightly.

"yeah? fuck me?" he taunts, crowding into your space. "i bet you'd like to, huh princess."

he doesn't even say it with any low, lustful tone. it's a jab, an insult even. but the words send heat creeping up your cheeks and you stammer out, "f-fuckin' jagoff," before turning quickly on your heel.

crisp chicago winter air helps soothe your racing mind, the shock against your bare arms bringing you back to reality. that was embarrassing. wanting to have sex with a coworker was bad enough already, but a coworker nearly ten years your senior? that's the beginning of a workplace nightmare.

richie steps into the alley and you glare at him. his hands raise in defeat, one holding a lighter as an unlit cigarette hands from his lips. he lights the thing and takes a drag, then pulls it from his lips to observe, "you look fuckin' cold."

"oh, thank you captain fucking obvious," you bite back, but your voice trails off as he cages you in against the wall.

[lari-online]

extra mini rant

season three i believe was a filler/bridge season. a set up. a season where in a few years, when the show has more seasons under its belt, i’ll look back and go “yeah season three wasn’t my favorite but i see how it set us up for the ones to follow.” the bear definitely still is one of my favorite shows ever.

that being said, some of the said filler of this season could’ve been used better. we could’ve explored characters like ebra, marcus, sydney, or even sweeps more. instead we got…the faks? why? some might say comedic relief. what was comedic was she sheer amount of time i spent looking at them on my screen.

i just hope that going forward they do better but also keep their integrity. i don’t want the show runners doing fan service and forcing certain characters together just to shut up the fans. idk man just maybe figure out the point of claire and dial back the fak.

[melanatedeuph0ria]

my initial thoughts on the bear s3 (having only gotten to ep 5)

im not even mad ab the whole sydcarmy breakdown in s3 rn I’m just like disappointed because what the fuck man

I’m only on ep 5 and I’m not gonna lie to y’all if this was as good and actually interesting as season 2 I’d be eating it up and binging that shit as much as I did last year. Well now I rlly can’t because I just HAD to rewatch the show w my parents so now that means I have to wait until they’re in the mood to watch it to watch it with them so I don’t feel like I’m betraying them for watching episodes on my own (mostly my mom tbh) but like ts is NOT speaking to me man

like I NEVER use “man” at the end of my sentences like that only when I’m actually exasperated and fucking tired of the shit something or somebody is pulling

Like FROM WHAT IVE SEEN this season has only showed me that like OKAY I DONT HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THE FAKS IM JUST SEEING THEM WAY TOO FUCKING MUCH LIKE…WHY IS JOHN CENA HERE STOP TRYING TO MAKE SHIT INTERESTING BY INSERTING RANDOM FUCKING CELEBRITIES INTO YO SHIT FIRST OF ALL

SECONDLY I’m pissed with how CARMY IS TREATING MY BEAUTIFUL BLACK QUEEN PRINCESS DUCHESS SYDNEY

Like what happened man 😕

It was legitimately going so so so SO WELL IN SEASON TWO

LIKE I HAD HOPE INDISPUTABLE HOPE ABOUT THEM GETTING TOGETHER

LIKE HUH

but then this WHITE MAN has the nerve to treat her like GARBAGE

FIRST FROM GETTING INTO A FIGHT WITH RICHIE FOR NO FUCKING REASON CAUSING RICHIE TO FALL OVER AND SPILL ALL OF THE HARD EXPO ORDER WORK SYDNEY WAS WORKING ON

LIKE I WOULD HAVE BEEN GONE BYE RESTAURANT WITH NO FUCKING SIGN ON THE FRONT LIKE WHO DO YALL THINK YALL AREEE

ALSO I FIND IT DISRESPECTFUL AS HELL

DISRESPECTFUL THAT THIS NIGGA IS ASKING HER “WHAT DO I DO WITH CLAIRE???” LIKE LMAO WHY NOBODY GIVE A FUCK

I THINK IM MOVING TO THE SIDE OF THE ARGUMENT THAT SYDNEY DESERVES BETTER THAN THIS MAN

AND I WIULDVE THOUGHT HE WOULDVE BEEN AT LEAST A LITTLE, MAYBE A LITTLE MORE GENTLRR WITH HER DURING COOKING TOME OR WHAGEVER TF BUT HE STILL JUST AS GORDON RAMSAY-ISH WITH HER LIKE WITH ANYONE

WTF DID WE DO STORER

LIKE WHY R U BEING A BITCH ABOUT SYDCARMY SHIPPERS LIKE U JUST PUT A BIG ASS HOLE IN THEIR WHOLE RELATIONSHIP

LIKE OKAY THEY DONT HAVE TO GET TOGEHRHER WHATEVER IF THEY DONT ILL STILL BE PISSED BUT WHATEVER

BUT I FEEL LIKE

UGH IDK

I CAME TO SEE A LIL ROMANCE THE NITTY GRITTY. LIKE EW HOW THE HELL ARE YALL GOING TO BE SHOWING CLAIRE AND CARMY KISSING IN THE DARK LIKE I DONT CARE WHAT TYPE OF WORK SHE DOES I DONT GAF AB WHAT SHE DO FOR WORK LIKE I APPRECIATE HER BEING A NICE PERSON TO THESE KIDS AND STUFF BUT CMON

CARMY AINT CALL HER NOT ONCE THIS WHOLE TIME IVE BEEN WATCHING

RICHIE IS THE ONLY ONE IM FR INTERESTED IN MARCUS TOO BECAUSE HE TRYNA DO SOME EXPERIMENTAL SHIT OUTSIDE OF THIS STRSSSFUL ASS ENVIRONMENT

AND SINCE WHEN DID THEY STILL OPERATE THE BEEF?!? I THOUGHT THEY CLOSED THAT SINCE WHRN IS A BRANCH OF THAT STILL OPERATING AND WHY IS ONLY EBRA IN CHARGE?!?

I THOUGHT THEY BUILT OVER THE RESTAURANT AND TURNED IT INTO WHATEVER THE FUCK IT IS NOW I MIGHTA MISSED A PLOT POINT BUT I DONT REMEMBER THAT EVEN BEING SAID

ALSO WHI IS THAT MAN WHO WALTZED INTO THE BEAR REASTUARSNT AND WAS TALKING W CARMY AS HE WAS CUTTING SOME SHIT AND WHO ALSO WAS AT THE WINDOW OF THE BEEF LIKE WHO ARE YOU HO LIKE R U A FAK OR WHAT BITCH

CARMY IS JUST TOO SAME OLD SAME OLD FOR ME LIKE CAN WE PLEASE CHANGE FOR ONCE IN OUR LIVES

LIKE I UNDERSTAND RICHIE ON THE FIRST EP LIKE WHAT THE FUCK DO U MEAN UR SORRY WHEN U LITERALLY CALLED ME A LEECH FOR WANTING TO BE INCLUDED IN THIS FAMILY BECAUSE HE DOESNT HAVE ONE TO RLLY CALL HIS OWN?!?!? LIKE CARMY CAN YOU CHILL OUT THIS MAN ACTUALLY LOVES YOU NO PAWSE

from what I’ve watched already its okay NOT TO SAY THE ACTORS ARE BECAUSE THE ACTORS DID AN INCREDIBLE PERFOMANCE AS USUAL LIKE THEIR SKILLS ARE STILL GREAT BUT I DONT LIKE WHAT THEY HAVE YALL DOIN WITH THAT AND ITS PISSING ME AWFF DONT PMOOOOO

ALSO IS IT JUST ME OR DO I FEEL LIKE THE BLACK CHARACTERS ARENT GETTING SHIT THIS SEASON

LIKE MARCUS AND TINA..OKAY OKAY THEY GOT THEY LIL EPISODES

BUT WHAT AB NOW IN THE PRESENT

I THINK WHO IM MAINLY TALKING AB IS SYD, EBRA, AND GARY I DAMN NEAR FORGOT HIS NAME BECAUSE WE NEVER EVER EVERRRR SEE HIM. EVER.

LIKE I ACTUALLY LIKE HIS CHARACTER I WANT TO SEE MORE OF HIM HE SEEMS COOL

okay main points:

* syd deserves better

* syd needs to stop being a lil mean to her dad idk I might be soft but like (it HAD to be said cs why r u being so rude to him for having genuine concerns about this murky ass apartment u finna dig into yo pockets to pay for?? ALSO this sussy ass partnership w this man liiiiiioke…)

* they seemed to care more ab carmys failing and anticlimactic relationship with claire than marcus’s late mother (ALSO I couldn’t help but notice SYDNEY was the only one, THE ONLY ONE who came to support this man as they were cleaning his mom’s hospice equipment out of his house…LIKE YALL HAVE NOTHING TO DO COME HELP??? like okay they came to his funeral which I appreciate y’know but still that part irks me)

* ts feels like filler at its finest somebody already said that but I felt like it had to be restated, like if CLAIRE YO

* IF CLAIRE IS THE MAIN DAMN PLOT POINT FOR THIS NIGGA CARMY RN AND IS THE ONE DRIVING HIM TO DO ALL THIS CRAZY NONNEGOTIABLE SHIT TO GET HIS MIND OFF OF IT IM DONE

* okay I’m done thank y’all for listening

* also I’m writing this on my notes app so I just copied it over

*ok bye y’all ty for listening !!! :3

UPDATE: I just read a few posts on here giving different perspectives and now I feel like I might’ve missed some stuff 😭

like maybe this is just setting it up to LOOK LIKE syd and carmy aren’t ever happening just to make season 4 and have them

idk how to even end that sentence

[queer-whatchamacallit]

So I decided I was going to rewatch The Bear and take notes, partly bc autism and partly bc I want more interesting details for fics and just to get to know the characters even better

(Also, I’ve been curious about what makes Carmy blow up vs what makes him dissociate)

So here’s some things I noticed that you could also pick apart like I have here

Carmy has his apron on in the dream, maybe it’s just because that’s what he’s been wearing pretty much all the time for the past couple weeks or because his work is so tied with his family (w/ bears as symbolism for that) but idk

Him waking up on a random counter in The Beef confirms my headcanon that he falls asleep in weird places OR he fell asleep in the office and sleepwalked there

In this ep, any imagery or mention of Michael is pretty much always tied to religious imagery

Carmy calls her Sugar and him Mike, I’m always inclined to have him say Mikey instead but I don’t think he ever does. Also, Fak calls Carm Bear :]

“What’s UPS?” Is the first in a long string of times where someone tries to talk about something other than the kitchen, and it just doesn’t click with Carm

Syd’s “I know who you are” and Carmy’s “Yeah?” and he just listens to her completely riveted is so funny to me. Tell this man you know he was the CDC at one of the best restaurants in the United States of America and it’s like saying “walk” to a dog

Carm’s “I’m saying something >:[,” starts the classic Berzatto dilemma of no one listening to each other but wanting to be listened to

Reminder that Syd can speak Spanish :D

Richie talks about their “Italian heritage” and later says abt the labels “this is the most Polish shit ever,” which show how close he fits in with the Berzattos and his dislike of his bio family (Jerimovich is Polish right.?)

Richie talks about putting his family back together and him not coming home, and Carmy instantly dissociates

Him asking “Why didn’t he leave it to you then?” Not like a comeback, but a genuine question gets me every time

Carmy’s not good with words, so while this is something that just makes fun dialogue, in universe, it’s interesting to see how often his responses are parroted (ex: Marcus’ “that shit was straight up fire” and Carm’s “Straight up done now Chef”)

When it’s work time, it’s work time. When Fak stops looking at Ballbreaker to mention that he wasn’t able to go to the funeral but he sent flowers, Carm just says he wasn’t there either and swiftly changes the subject back to work

The three siblings and Richie all have gold necklaces. When Sugar shows up, I don’t know if hers was one of the matching ones, and I couldn’t figure out what the charm was on it

Tina says “Why doesn’t your sister come around here anymore?” Implying that she used to. I also feel like T wouldn’t have asked if Sugar stopped coming when she moved out and didn’t have to do what her mom told her to. Maybe Mikey kicked Sugar out of the restaurant too, but she wasn’t too bothered by it

Unlike with Richie, when Nat calls him out on not saying hello, just trying to get work done, he listens, and he slows down. Richie feels like his space in the family is shaky, so he’ll take a lot more shit from them while Nat won’t. She inherited a temper, just like her brothers, I feel like she’s in therapy and likely tackled how to stand up for herself when her family was treating her like shit, and she’s the “normal” middle child between a loud older brother and a worrying little brother, so she probably had to fight for her family’s attention at every turn

Nat mentions their mom and Carm’s eye contact instantly breaks, and it seems like he has to remind himself to breathe

His stutter shows up when arguing that he doesn’t want Jimmy to buy it

Carm’s “I’m gonna fix this place” vs Sug’s “No one’s asking you to” just hits so hard for some reason

When Carm tries to flee back inside, she uses “I love you,” like it’s an argument to keep him from throwing himself back into the restaurant or as a reminder that there’s people out there who want him to be doing well when she thinks the restaurant is hurting him

Sweeps is more of a background character but omg he just quietly looks out for everyone :] (he made sure Syd got to try Carm’s beef recipe :]]]])

Fak was also close with Mikey. I don’t know why I imagine Fak as being not quite as close with everyone as Richie, but they came to Christmas too, edit: Fak’s “but it got fuckin dark at the end” showed that he too knew something was up when Carm didn’t

Carm very much gives off the vibe of being allergic to cats, but I’m going to ignore that and squeeze in my headcanon that he loves Fak’s cats, Ralph and they love him

Richie’s dialogue is such a fun juxtaposition of him trying to feel superior to whoever he’s arguing with with large vocabulary and overconfidence but often falling back into vulgar insults because that’s what he knows best. Also, later in the ep he talks about “up in Napa” with the foie gras and shit to mock Carmy, but Napa isn’t up from them, it’s in California

Richie says “You have no fuckin idea what you’re doing here” and it’s like a switch, Carmy’s comebacks and annoyance with Richie stop, and he’s completely dissociated again. Richie shoves cans of spaghetti sauce into his arms and slaps at his face to steady him because he can probably tell something’s not right with him, but he just ends up leaving him to it

One of the Berzattos main love languages is physical touch via back and shoulder pats

And finally, Carm tosses the can of spaghetti sauce which I’m saying is because he just needs them to fucking listen and trust him when he’s saying no more spaghetti but there’s probably also some kind of Michael significance there too

Edit: I think I just had the realization that family stuff is what makes him dissociate while work stuff tends to make him panic and snap at people. It makes sense, snapping at his family would only escalate things and dissociating separates him from something he’s expected to fix. And Claire is kinda off in her category but falls under the panic response

So yeah!!

That’s pretty much what I got from 1x01 - System

I don’t know when or if I’ll do more of these, but this was so much fun, literally love dissecting these sad little goobers

[youwillfindilluminating]

I finished watching the bear. my brain is mush and I have too many thoughts.

I only read a few people's opinions and I'm trying not to let that color mine...

maybe I watched it too fast, but it's definitely not as good as the first two seasons.

firstly: there were TOO MANY FAKS SCENES. I cannot fucking stand them. I literally mute the show when they're on and just read the subtitles. it's like the show is still trying to identify as a comedy and thought this would be an easy way to do that but HOLY SHIT it's so annoying. I would pay money to never have to see them on my screen ever again.

the sydcarmy of it all: idk! I still have hope I guess! but I'm an old shipper and used to being delusional and having crumbs to work with. I really wanted carmy to find her and comfort her during her panic attack at the end.

I think syd deserves to leave the restaurant and go work for that guy for her mental health, but it's not what my heart wants. I'd love for her to leave and have carmy lose his shit and beg for her to come back. that feels like a redux of S1, tbh. minus the begging.

their scene in 3x03 where she says, "you need to calm down. I'm not asking." man!!!! that shit sent me to space! it reminded me of my fav fic (wild, wild berry). there's nothing I love more than syd needing to dom carmy into taking a break/stop being an asshole/taking care of himself. inject it into my veins.

there were plenty of parts during the season that I liked, but a lot of it felt like a slog. there were far too many scenes that were trying hard to be artsy about gourmet food and came off, to me, as sort of a self-congratulatory jerkoff session about putting tiny flowers on plates.

in the end, I needed more character interaction. especially between syd, carmy, and richie.

(editing to add: natalie is a highlight, as always. I would die for her.)

[mono-socke]

soft asks to get to know people

what song makes you feel better?

what’s your feel-good movie?

what’s your favorite candle scent?

what flower would you like to be given?

who do you feel most you around?

say three nice things about yourself (three physical and three non-physical).

what color brings you peace?

tag someone (or multiple people) who make you feel good. 

what calms you down?

what’s something you’re excited for?

what’s your ideal date?

how are you?

what’s your comfort food?

favorite feel-good show?

for every emoji you get, tag someone and describe them in one word.

compliment the person who sent you this number.

fairy lights or LED lights?

do you still love stuffed animals?

most important thing in your life?

what do you want most in the world right now?

if you could tell your past self one thing, what would it be?

what would you say to your future self?

favorite piece of clothing?

what’s something you do to de-stress?

what’s the best personal gift someone could give you (playlist, homemade card, etc.)

what movie would you want to live in?

which character would you want to be?

hugs or hand-holding?

morning, afternoon or night?

what reminds you of home (doesn’t have to mean house… just things that remind you of the feeling of home)?

I ddon't really know if you want to know only specific ones or like,, everything?? but I'm bored so uhh, have all answers

'Ain't no man Manhattan' (Anthony Rapp) or 'Party Hat' (Eric William Morris and Lauren Marcus)

Hotzenplotz. Specifically the 2006 version)

I don't really like candles, but my favourite scent overall is probably,, freshly baked things (??)

Dandelions (I'm not a big fan of flowers in general (well, they do look really cool and planting them is awesome, but I don't want to recieve bouquets as a gift), but they're fine)

My best friend(s), for sure

uhhh, let me think. physically: 1 my eyes look pretty cool (the pupils at least), 2 I have like,, kinda talented hands,, I guess?? 3 I have very expressive eyes and eyebrows and it's fun to watch myself act emotions sometimes. non-physically: I can draw pretty well (in my opinion) 2 I can accomplish/finish stuff pretty quickly if I actually want to, 3 I have a very good memory

Green

very nervous about tagging people but like,, everyone who interacts with my blog or me in general regularly

Music. or being aggressive (to no one directly, more to myself about some topic that pisses me off) for a few minutes to let out energy

Summer vacation and watching Dear Evan Hansen in october

Watching some sort of musical/play together and talking about it afterwards

Kinda tired and warm, but pretty okay overall

Idrk. Chocolate, I guess??

The Big Bang Theory (I always watched it when I was younger, so I suppose it has something to do with nostalgia, and because I still like most characters)

?

(oh this is one of those messages usually sent around on what's app, but since the ask is anon I can't do that)

Fairy Lights, but with other themes,, like,, bat ones for halloween (if that makes sense)

Of course I do. I don't really buy any for myself anymore, but I still have a few from when I was younger and I don't think I'll get rid of them anytime soon

My friends and their happiness (as sappy as that sounds)

Getting a proper sleep rhythm /hj (tbh, I'm not sure. being able to stand on stage more probably. it's really fun but there are barely any options for that around here)

Don't just fucking sit there in silence and complain. That's not how it works.

Please tell me you stayed in contact with the other three.

A purple plaid shirt to wear opened over t-shirts (idk why either, it just looks cool and I like purple)

Playing with literally anything my hands can grab

It's not really something physical, and if it were, it'd just be a handwritten card with some sort of inside joke. I think the best thing people can tell me is that I'm inspiring them to do something (or stuff like that)

I don't watch that many movies, but I think 'Fak ju Göthe' would be fun

Good old SQUIP or Lucas Gray (or David. Depends)

With close friends, hugs. With others, both are relatively the same

Night

Having cats running around me (I grew up with cats around me constantly, I'm pretty used to that)

Well uh,, now you know a bit about me?? I guess?? Do with this information as you want

[carmenized-onions]

Yap sheet, live and in color!!

I wrote this as I was reading it, so it very well may be incoherent since I read the chapter almost immediately upon waking up. 😍 OH OH OH before i forget this is going to be really long, so my apologies, BUT !! Can i get put on the taglist? Pretty please 😛 .... wait adding this later I think im already on it 🤔

1.) I can taste what is happening here, i think, and I swear to god, if it ends up that he calls tony, calls ME THE READER, a distraction, I'll cry. Onion, you will have made me cry. Sigh. A dish getting sent back making him all wiggy does make a lot of sense, though, I fear.

2.) "He’s not meant to be a good person. He’s meant to be a good chef." :< i hate u that's so sad and isolating, and so on the nose for Carmy :<

-side note idk why but this :< and :> have become my absolute favorite lil emojis lately so silly

3.) Cue my eyes widening all comical and shit cause ONION "you should be dead" NOOOOOOOOOO L major L cause wtf

This yap sheet is gonna be mega long if i keep doing it like this, I'm ngl. But i think you'll enjoy it, so I might keep it up

4.) Yes, match our clothes to Carmy's eyes... or whatever !!!

5.) Poor Fak. "So Fak is gonna be our server?" "Yessir." "He any good?" "No Sir." And that's so real, actually. Okay, just read more, and Neil really is a small train wreck, and "Oh wow" definitely made me giggle

6.) I feel like im taking notes for class here, and i usually hate taking notes, so that's how you know you've got me by the balls with this story, Onion. Also, this is its own point bc ik ur gonna reply to these in order like this so this is me telling u that if u don't want me to send these this long i will not be offended cause this is gonna be so much. ALSO did this just for u bc I'll see in other asks when ur lamenting abt people not pointing out certain things (I TOTALLY get that btw) and I usually notice them but forget them in my yap sheet cause i do them after the fact so :> also this point is so long now okay this backfired on me.

7.) NOT TONY REFERRING TO THEIR RELATIONSHIP AS A RESERVATION thats so silly. I love that Fak was all. Oh, is that Carmy's jacket?? And Richie jumps straight to oh yall are fucking. NOT A SEX PAINTING OHMYGOD

8.) :< that's all I have to say about that sequence with Carmy that made me very :<

9.) Anyway, um Tony screaming at the sight of him is also very :< also him immediately thinking he is the problem or like the self loathing taking over is also so :< bc like UGH this poor man I really just want to give him the biggest hug in the world. But in Tony's defense, I, too, would get jumpscared by slicked back hair Carmen. I mean, I guess that tracks since Tony IS me, technically.

10.) Okay Fak appears like he's going to be this bad the whole time so unless theres smth specific to say, I'll just cap the Fak interaction here and say I feel for my man Neil bc I, too, am a very slow learner and I would probably also fall flat on my face just like this.

11.) Richie is so dear to me as a character, like that man held everything together in his two hands and got zero appreciation for it. And like, that is something I relate so heavily to. Richie watching Tiff move on must be so :< even if he does seem like he's made his peace with it

12.) Okay, so i just read for a lil while, but um. CARMY'S OLD BOSS SHOWING UP??? DIABOLICAL!! YOU ARE AN EVIL ONION FR like that's so vile. Also I will say that the syd comforting is so slay. Tony just going immediately into caretaker mode is so me actually

13.) THE RACIALLY TARGETED MILES MORALES BANDAIDS !!!!

14.) Anyway I love Syd and Tony and the let me love you is so URGHHHHH i just love them sm

15.) Okay so I hate that fucking guy but ,,, GO TONY !! Love that she basically just handed them their asses by being smart n shit.

16.) RATATOUILLE MENTION !!! Love

17.) Okay the fact that tony questions whether or not Carmen would defend her over impressing chef asshole is so UGH UGH UGH makes my chest all tight bc like, yes, I think he would, i think he absolutely would choose Tony over all of it but... then again.... UGH

18.) OH MY GODDDDDDDD CARMY WROTE TONY A NOTE FOR HER MEAL THATS SO. ITS SO. OH MY GODDD. Even when hes being a grade a dickface hes so sweet :<

19.) LOVE??? Yeah im so gone goodbye

20.) Oh im so dead the moment she got the plate I knew she was gonna give it to chef asshole but STILL IT STILL HURTS

21.) Okay yes im like very :< abt the nat and carmy convo but what is this did mikey have a lil folder abt chip tony like a journal type shit wtf onion

22.) NO THIS IS TERRIBLE NEWS CARMY THINKING SHE DATED MIKEY??? NOOOOO THIS IS EVEN WORSE ACTUALLY THIS IS SO BAD??

23.) I hate you. Thats all 🫶 that cliffhanger was abhorrent

No but fr that was phenomenal and i really hope you like this ugh. Ur writing so fucking good im like crying at the optometrist rn

ALRIGHT SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU SKIPPED TO MY ANSWER N DIDN'T READ THE ASK !!! goin' under the keep reading for this one. Will this be the only ask I get through before I have to go run errands? We'll find out. Will there be a snapshot of the next chapter under the cut as a little treat? I honestly don't know, I'll have to look to see if there's anything I can give you that doesn't give away everything lmao.

Before we start though, I do want to note somewhere, I have finished the draft for the next chapter-- I usually don't do to much rework at this point, but I do think it'll need some decent edits-- It's very hard to write like, after a fight, yknow? Like I'm trying to do a very organic aftermath, as well, it's not just a complete cliffhanger, where I can time skip the awkwardness-- And that's like. Woo. Need to revise and make sure it's good.

Anyways, this is all to say:

Thank God I split this from the last chapter, eh? Almost dropped fucking 20k straight on your heads like a comical boulder.

Anyways time to actually REVIEW THIS WONDERFUL YAP SHEET LETS GO

YES you're on the taglist and never apologize for yapping, I do it all the time. And I love to be yapped back to. I know how much work goes into taking notes, so it genuinely really warms my fuckin' heart that you'd take that time for me thank you my love!!

OOH. I think bro gets very close to saying distraction, I think he says that he gets distracted, but never actually calls Tony one straight up. I do think Tony basically calls herself one at some point... Which... Baby, your self image pleaasse. AND YEAH, THE PLATE SENT BACK-- You'd all laugh if I showed you my notes app drafts, I literally have a note titled 'carmy mental snap' and a list of things to fuck with him psychologically that come to me throughout the day

Writing the not a good person, good chef, actually did make me realize what the fuck bro was yapping about in the Season 2 finale. I always like got the amusement or enjoyment line, but I don't think I fully understood what he meant because I was like-- You make food baby, that's a form of enjoyment-- It's not to him. It's money. He doesn't get joy out of being a chef, right now. UGH. I'M RUINED.

Yeah babyyyyy, the voice in his head is still his exeeccccc lets goooooo-- Pulled up the NYC scene dialogue, for that whole morning routine. Pulled all those lines straight from it. Major L to Jeff from Community. He had a major change in character smh

or WHATEVER!!!!!!

I promise I wasn't planning on dogging on Fak this much as a server, and then I watched the trailer, and no spoilers, he fucking bombs and I was like , well, okay, that's the game we're playing Mr Storer? I'll play,,,

DAWWW, again, I know how much this takes, and I should say-- Never feel pressure, lmao-- Whenever I poke at people for not noting things, it's just me poking fun i swear. I never want it to feel STRESSFUL to read these chapters, though (well, i guess i did want THIS one to feel stressful lmao), so please don't feel like you have to do this-- Do i love it? Yes. Do I also beg for essays? Yeah.,,, but like, like yknow what I mean-- Go at thine pace, baby

Richie and Syd are Tony's two besties, and them both immediately going SO YALL ARE FUCKING???? Feels very correct, to me. Sex painting also, I just think is such a Fak thing to whisper. I mean those canvases couples FUCK on, with paint covering, by the way, if that wasn't clear. I don't know how well known a thing that is. I went to art school, so. When worlds collide, yknow.

:< Zero Pulse Carmy L Count: 2 (the morning scene was rough)

I love seeing the different reactions to Tony yelling, because it's either like: AWE POOR CARMY or THATS SO FUCKING SCARY SHE SHOULD BE SCREAMING, WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM?-- And I love to see that.

I would 100% flail like this. Fak is me at my new admin job every day.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I went from a certified Richie Hater to a lover. Writing this fic I think also aided to that, alot, because it forced me to think very critically about like, what it fucking meant to stick around, when your best friend dies. Like me and my best girlfriend-- The Syd to my Tony, essentially, have both said repeatedly if one of us kicks the bucket, the other one is immediately yeeting it. Like. Richie staying alive let alone in the same place, that takes a lot of fucking strength. Love him.

DIABOLICALLLLLL HAAAAA, I did a little dance, when everyone started tweaking in the comments with that one. Love to see it. Got your asses with that surprise-- Got Carmen with it too, lmao. Can you imagine going to work already in a bad fuckin mood and then the Devil from your shoulder is like 'i'll be there in 30'? Ohhhh bitcchh--- I'd be doin worse than Carmy, tbh.

I would've dug so much more into the RACIALLY TARGETED MILES MORALES BANDAIDS!!!! if I was explicitly writing Tony as a POC, but I needed to give her a tamer response with 'i hate you'-- But to note, if I was going full WOC besties, it would've been fuckin' 'oh so you'd prefer peter parker?? racissstttttttt'-- Nothing says solidarity in the black/brown community like calling your fellow POC racist.

LET ME!!!! LET ME!!! Had that line written in my head for quite some time-- I've been planning this chapter since chapter 2, so it's like, like I really got to LIVEEE writing Tony/Syd, I adore them.

GO TONYYYYYY, I was worried I gave her too many talents, tbh. But like. Her title and nickname is Jack of All Trades, and it makes a lot of sense to me that being a Lead Paramedic = Fantastic under pressure, great at giving direction/leading, decent bedside manner + Repairman Level Memory + Wine Fascination since highschool = Not that many actual skills, but they all transfer into so many different branches. So I think she's not to OP lmao. WE'VE GOT TO NERF TONY.

The rat chef!!! I'm shocked no one found it frankly offensive Carmen hasn't seen Ratatouille-- But I do think that would be canon. I think Carmen's life would change dramatically for the better if he just fuckin' relaxed and watched Ratatouille.

RIGHT? I'm literally still debating the idea of what Carmen would do, in the scenario. Like, a lot rides on the idea of a star. His whole life and everyone elses--- Would he prioritize Tony? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm let's not think about it

The note, bah. What a sweetie. It's also like, written on the recipe card he drafted, too, so technically if she gained all the Michelin skills rn herself she could make it. Theoretically.

LOVEEEE...... moving on....

Speaking of Love, I have loved seeing the handful of people saying they knew immediately when she got that plate what Tony was gonna do about it. Like that is both touching to me as an author and also heartbreaking that on a story and character level, you immediately knew what Tony would do to herself there--- Bah.

JOURNAL IS INTERESTNG-- I wonder if Mikey would be the logging type. Maybe entirely unmarked in his notes app.

WOOOOFFFFFF

I'm sorry but I'm not sorry and I hope the OPTOMETRIST APPOINTMENT WAS GOOD DESPITE DA EMOTIONS HAHA

Now let's see, is there anything in the water I can give you here... Anything that won't spoil something,,,

There's not really much that isn't really emotionally charged, so I'll give you this, at least. Feels like any context of the next chapter is spoilery, but eh, read it if you'd LIKE to. haha. AGAIN-- THANK YOU LOVE!!!

[serendipitous-girl]

man whay the fak are you so preppy 😔🫶🤔

idk what this means but thank you <3

[lynxiepancakes]

masterlist of predictions for s3 of the bear!

this is my compilation of predications for what i hope will happen in s3 of The Bear. Probably most of these won't happen but i did something along of these lines for Bridgerton and it was fun so !! just don't take them too seriously okay lol

• Marcus's mom funeral won't be the only one. i think Donna's too will be just as unexpected and tragic.

• probably unlikely but Syd finds a place sooo close to Carmy's they're basically neighbours. Like i so hope we could have a dr house similar scene where they can literally see each other from the window/balcony arghhh

• Syd asks Marcus but not Carmy for help to move out and carmy gets SO UPSET. like puppy eyes kind of upset.

• i physically need a scene of syd's female gaze towards Carmy at least once or I'm gonna riot. gimme a bridgerton main female character type of thing where Carmy is all sweaty or wet or some type of shit I BEG YOU

• a Caps (thats their name right?) baseball play, maybe? i feel like it's something that connects the entire staff, they talked about them in both seasons so why not see them in s3

• a full blown otherwise unexplicable scene of jealousy of Carmy towards Syd. Her getting pouched/flirted with right in front of his eyes and him being like woah woah woah what's going on and RUNNING to take his pepto bismol LOL

• Carmy FUMBLING the meeting with Syd's father. being the weird ass he is and her father all 😬😀🤨 like what is going on with this guy (idk man he's autistic probably)

• Claire getting her closure, and actually standing her ground/showing more of her humanity rather than her just being a manic pixie girlie

• Richie moving on from Tiff, maybe with the girl of the forks episode?? she was rlly nice

• Marcus and Luca's reunion!! they were so cute !! and also Luca having an undeniable beef with carmy, maybe exacerbated by him getting alomg with syd? 😳👀

• I hope Syd and Carmy fight so hard they just can't help but let the truth slip. that being they either confess their feelings or straight up angry making out in secret cause why the fuck not EVEN BETTER IF IN THE LOCK IN FRIDGE

• tina confronting syd about her feelings for carmy cause that woman has EYES

• bonus: richie and fak fuck each other brains cause they're so silly and cute together and i've read a couple of fics written so well they might as well become canon lol

[garbinge]

Hi hello good morning I’m obsessed w u still and I would to request your thoughts on the episode ‘fishes’ pls n Ty

Omg me? Little old ME???? Staaaahhpppp thank you. <3 <3

Okay FISHES. I think I'm going to put my thoughts below the cut for people avoiding spoilers and also because I think I have a lot.

Luckily, I rewatched this episode last night with my parter so it's fresh in ma brain.

Honestly, it was heartbreaking, and stressful and chaotic, and just a lot of emotions flying around. I think we really get to see WHY Carmy is how he is. With himself, with the restaurant, with his siblings, with Richie, with Claire!!!! I think we see why he loves the kitchen, and probably why he hates it. @drabbles-mc said this to me the other day, how it really gave us an understanding WHY Carmy didn't go to Mikey's funeral. Because this is what happens at Christmas time, imagine what a funeral where everyone is grieving and emotional and going through it, would look like. Cousin Michelle talked with him about essentially taking care of himself and avoiding these scenarios and I think Carmy took that advice, even though it wasn't going to be with her.

With Sugar, I just. My heart breaks. It was a great callout to why in S1 she was so upset that Carmy never asked her how she was. I think that Sugar asked it so much because, 1. She genuinely cared but 2. She wished someone would have asked her. All the things her mother said to her, and like again, this is ONE time. ONE night. Imagine growing up like this, imagine dealing with this day after day? Idk I just I feel like this really showed us why each person is the way they are.

And WITH THAT. I feel like that's why Richie loves this family so much. He doesn't really have anyone, we touched upon how his dad not being there and I think this found family moment is better for him than nothing at all. Seeing him and Tiffany together ... ugh MY HEART. I knew Richie had a sweet side in him since S1, I know he was rude and grouchy and all that but MY MANS WAS GRIEVING OKAY. He is trying. He is constantly trying. He cares about people and HIS people so deeply and I just... give this man a hug.

Mikey. Fucking. Berzatto. and also. Jon fucking Bernthal. and ALSO the fucking WRITING! The way I see the pain Mikey is feeling through his eyes his behavior, his hair even, the disheveledness. In S1, we see him clean shaven, and I'd have to think that was before this Christmas episode (who actually knows?) but you can see he is struggling. When Lee in the end said "you are nothing." I got this feeling, he didn't actually say it that many times. I think it just repeated and ricochetted off in his brain. The way the camera shot is just makes me think we're in Mikey's POV? Idk.

NOW that we got through the heavy stuff, I need to go through the moments that made me smile.

FAKS <3 I adore Neil Fak with everything in me. Him and his brother dancing to Dominic the Donkey???? GOODBYE I LOLED.

I wanna know what Francie Fak did. no. I NEED to know.

Stevie saying grace. the whole thing.

on that note, that FIRE CAST!!!!

TIFFANY!!! I loved seeing Richie and her so much.

THE BANANA STORY THAT WE GET FULL CIRCLED IN THE END BYE I CANT HANDLE THE CUTENESS. Richie LISTENS. and that is something I really tried to push in my fics, but having it confirmed in canon made me so happy, selfishly lol.

did I mention the fucking FAKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I want homemade sprite made by Carmy.

PETE!!!!! I'm sorry but that man LOVES Sugar, he puts up with all that shit from this family because he loves her. And I just. My man. HE IS RIGHT THO like you can't show up empty handed but also, the 8th fish is prob not the best idea LOL

Donna. THis isn't fun. But I need to add it in here. I just, having a parent struggle mentally is really hard and I think we see how that's affected each Berzatto.

All the full circle moments. I LIVE for a full circle moment. So the banana, the tongues that tiffany and richie share that are the same that him and eva do, the cannolis, the seven fishes, our mother of victory, the list probably goes on!

This was one of my favorite episodes, Forks is my #1 fav cause you know I'm a Richie girlie, but this one just gave so much detail to the characters in such a uniquely captured way!

[izvmimi]

Hi, Mimi! What's your favorite things about Izuku if you don't mind naming a few? c:

omg idk where i should start but brevity is the soul of wit!

his daring! - i admire how willing he is to stand up for what is right even when he is powerless to do so regardless of how crazy or wrong people perceive him to be and regardless of confidence

his compassion! - i think he manages to find good in others and turn the other cheek so well again in a way i greatly admire because it's something i try to cultivate in myself a lot but man it is hard when people press your buttons specifically because they don't think you'll react

his resourcefulness! - izuku is so, so smart and is constantly learning and growing and probably wouldn't be like me bitching when the stuff i have to read to stay atop of my field starts to pile up and all i want to do is sleep and play video games

his straightforwardness! - he's pure and direct without being harsh or tactless, just not the type of man who would ever lie to you intentionally (like he'd have to deceive himself first)

his gentleness! - he is just by nature like so, so soft and like it takes so much strength to be willing to keep your heart pliable and open after all that life can put you through and all life puts him specifically (!!!) through. like he's just so willing to continue to handle people gently (i know this is hilarious considering the current events in the manga but you know what i mean. you know.), despite them being at their worst, and also to encourage people to be their best!

in addition to that he's just very cute but i also see him as someone who can be very witty and honestly flirty when he's feeling confident in a way that just ajsdfl;jasdfkjadks;fak yeah

[chansoooo1-blog]

Exo as the bear characters

Kyungsoo - Carmy ( no explanation required)

Kai - Sydney ( idk man, they are both a bit misunderstood?? Balls of sunshine but have amazing work ethic)

Suho - Natalie ( also no explanation required..he just has that eldest daughter energy and he basically raised them)

Lay - Ebra ( the language barrier!?)

Chen - Fak ( this is a bit of a wildcard but those who get it will get it...)

Bakehyun - Chester ( they literally radiate the same energy)

Chanyeol - Marcus ( ?!?! Idk they both have puppy dog eyes)

Xiumin - Michelle

Sehun - Francie Fak ( idk..nobody else seems to have a personality remotely similar to his)