#carmy x claire

[irlplasticlamb]

the bear.

[veryberryjelly]

hold on

carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary : reader reveals to carmen that she has a hard relationship with food.

a/n ; content warnings for disordered eating, throwing up, talks of disordered eating. i am not romanticising eating disorders !! loooong boy. 1.2k words

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

you never thought this would have been an issue.

you had never been in a relationship long enough for it to be important.

but 3 months.

you had to tell him.

but you had no idea where to start with admitting it.

somehow in the three months of dating carmen you had managed to avoid any conversation relating to your issues.

you had been out to dinner a few times, but every time you managed to find something easy or small.

and if you weren't able to do that, you had gotten good at making a plate look like you had eaten some if not most of it.

the issue only really came to a head when you had arranged to stay over at carmen's place after he cooked for the both of you.

you had been stressing over it for the last two days about something so simple as him cooking for you.

along with his insistence to keep it a secret what he was making, you were getting anxious about it.

your anxiety riddled mind was quietened when carmen opened the door to his apartment and your eyes met his.

the soft, relaxed smile on his lips mirrored onto your own.

" hey sweetheart, come in. dinner shouldn't be too long, just finishing up "

the mention of food brought almost all of your anxiety back.

you shut the door behind you as you walked in, setting your bag down on his couch as you headed towards the kitchen.

" gonna tell me what you're making yet ?" you questioned, keeping your voice level as you leant against the counter.

you could spot a few elements of the meal carmen was making, but none that would tell you what he was making.

you were almost relieved to spot a salad on the counter.

you might be able to get through this meal without feeling the urge to throw up.

" spaghetti bolognese "

two words that had your stomach falling.

carbs were very hard for you, but you couldn't not eat what carmen had cooked for you.

you took a slightly shuddering breath which was thankfully hidden from carmen as he tended to his sauce.

" sounds delicious "

thankfully, both of you talked through most of dinner, and it wasn't out of place for your fork to just rearrange your food instead of pick it up and eat it.

the few bites that you did take were mostly salad, apart from two initial bites of the pasta when you first sat down, which was hard to swallow.

after dinner you offered to do the dishes, practically insisting. you didn't want carmen to see how little of his food you had eaten.

he wouldn't let you do it all on your own and offered to at least dry up after you.

he didn't see the amount of food from your plate that ended up in the trash.

you definitely felt guilty about throwing it away, but you couldn't physically stomach the food or telling him after he made so much effort.

after you finished cleaning up the two of you were quick to retire to the couch for a movie.

carmen's arm wrapped around your shoulders and the steady beating of his heart underneath your ear wasn't enough to erase the burning feeling in your stomach or the gags you could feel climbing up your throat.

it got to the point where you couldn't take it anymore.

you muttered a quick excuse before rushing towards the bathroom.

you should've known that carmen would be hot on your heels the moment he heard you emptying your guts into the toilet.

you heard his voice behind you muttering a short string of curses when he opened the door.

the next thing you knew, his hands were swiftly collecting your hair from the base of your neck to keep it from getting messy.

after you had nothing more to give, you flushed the toilet and leant back to move away from it, only to be met with the solid feeling of carmen's chest against your back.

" 'm sorry. didn't mean to ruin your night " you muttered quietly, your eyes not lifting from your lap.

" baby, you didn't ruin anything. just want you to tell me why you're throwin' up after you barely ate anything "

a shiver of dread raced down your spine.

" thought maybe you just didn't like the food but now i'm thinking that something's wrong "

his voice was warm and comforting even if what he was saying was chilling you to your bones.

you had to tell him.

you began twisting the towel that carmy had handed you in your hands.

" what's going on, baby ?" he questioned, his hand lifting to brush some hair behind your ear as he dropped his head down onto your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss onto the fabric of your sweater.

you were silent for a few minutes, but carmen never pushed you to speak, only waited until you were ready.

" there's something wrong with me carmen... i- i hate feeling full. i can't eat like a normal person. i don't- " a sob wracked through your chest as you spoke.

carmen's arms wrapped tighter around you as tears began falling down your cheeks.

he held you there until the tears stopped, and even a little bit longer.

when he finally stood from the floor and walked out of the bathroom you thought he was done.

that he didn't want to deal with a girlfriend with these kids of issues, especially as a chef.

but when he returned a few moments later with your pyjamas and your toothbrush all of those feelings disappeared.

he delivered them to you with a kiss to your temple before he was back out again.

you didn't question him, or say anything, just brushed your teeth and washed your face before changing into your pyjamas, a pair of long pants and a t-shirt that carmen had given to you with 'the beef' logo on your chest.

after folding up your other clothes you padded out into his living room, keeping your head down as you put your clothes in your bag.

but you couldn't avoid it any longer.

you found carmen in the kitchen pouring hot water into two mugs from his cabinet.

you were only sat down for a moment before he came over with both mugs in his hand and slid one towards you.

chamomile.

your hands wrapped around the warm receptacle.

there were a few moments of silence before you heard the voice you found so much comfort in.

" why didn't you tell me ? " he questioned, his voice the farthest thing from accusational.

" didn't want to scare you off. most people go running when they find out. wanted to hold on a little bit longer " your voice was nothing more than a whisper and your eyes were burning into the mug of tea in your hands.

carmen wasted no time in moving around the counter to stand beside you, his hand moving to tilt your chin up and bring your gaze towards him.

" i'm not goin' anywhere, baby. but you gotta let me help. "

his thumb began moving against your cheekbone, and that simple action was all you needed before you wrapped your arms around his torso and buried your face into his t-shirt. his arms held you close to his chest.

" could you give me a ride to my therapists tomorrow ? "

" anything, baby "

[conceived-angel]

"i didn't fucking do it! you know i wouldn't! i'm sorry!" "yeah, you did! you lied about it! what are you doing?"

saw somebody post this clip of carmy and claire fighting recently and it got me excited all over again. does anybody have any theories as to what they're talking about? (it can't still be that damn walk-in...)

(gonna hold my tongue on him waiting until claire's yelling to finally apologise to her when he's issued multiple apologies to sydney in that time)

[userboygenius]

Jeremy Allen White and Molly Gordon in THE BEAR (2022-), 2x08 "Bolognese", directed by Christopher Storer.

[mporium]

[damnikindadontcare]

Should’ve taken the hint when he gave you a fake phone number

[bbruisesamethyst]

the bear is my roman empire for REAL <3

[thecapricunt1616]

Allspice (c.b oneshot)

𝐵𝓁𝓊𝓇𝒷 (𝑀𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝐵𝒯𝒞): You were so engrossed in the work, that you hadn’t even realized someone had approached your table until they cleared their throat awkwardly.  Your gaze slowly travels up, seeing a blue apron covering a white shirt, tattooed hands holding- your meal? Your eyes flicker up to his piercing blue ones. “Chilean Sea Bass” he sets it in front of you. You snort a laugh.  “Hm.” You look around before back at him “These people” you motion to the restaurant. “Other patrons. Which meals of theirs did you bring out- Chef?” You accentuate the last word, it was all too uncommon for a chef to personally bring a meal out to a table. 

♡ O.S Inspo: Forever & Always - Fearless (TV) ; "Was I out of line, did I say something way too honest, made you run and hide like a scared little boy?" ♡ Pairing : CarmyxAFAB Reader as little physical description possible | She/Her pronouns used, NO use of Y/N :) ♡ Summary: You have a very successful Culinary Review blog, the social media manager of one of your new hometown restaurants 'The Bear' has been dying to get you out to try their food. But since the EC is a bit of an overzealous competitor, you end up having to go back for round 2- you end up having a delicious dinner, and a free show.

♡ W/C: 4,381

♡ Posted Date: 03/18/24

♡ A/N: FIRST THING: I am HORRIDDDD at writing Claire- I'm much better at writing Carmy cause were alot more similar- so this Claire isn't gonna be CRAZY canon, but I think she got the job done. Anyway- EEEEEP!!! Here is my VERY FIRST ONE SHOT EVER!! Inspired by my amazing, wonderful, PRECIOUS FLOWER @daysofyellowroses that can be found here :) AAAAA!!! My precious Rose I hope you enjoy this, It could ABSOLUTELY have a part 2 if y'all like it. I ended it here cause I'm sooo wordy and I didn't want it to turn in to a multi-chap. fic by mistake...but ofc if y'all want more just tell me and ill get RIGHT TO WORK!!! I really hope this comes off how I saw it in my head. There's no smut/sexy stuff, just mutual pining and flirty teasing, I hope thats ok!! aaa here we goooo!!! Enjoy <3

♡ Warnings for BTC: Swearing, Drinking alcohol (Literally it LOL)

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

Being a Food Critic wasn’t an easy gig, as much as people wanted to believe it’s simply going to famous restaurants, trying their most popular dishes- and giving your opinion, it was much more then that. 

Each and every aspect of the restaurant was under your review, from the second you walked in the door, you were judging everything. From the atmosphere, to the music, to the decor, to the comfortability of the furniture all of it, was to meet your expectations if the owner of the establishment wanted a good review.

Today was finally the day you'd review one of the restaurants that had sent 3 requests for you to feature a review of them on your blog. 

The Bear. Interesting name, you thought.

With the rugged name- you’d assumed a more millennial hipster-New American vibe. But when you’d arrived- you were quite…impressed? That instead of leaning into that all too common aesthetic, it was more of a classy, comfortable vibe. 

They’d not even had bear art, anything of the sort. It was pure comfort, mixed with subtle class. The kind that spoke to the cost of the dishes- but wasn’t in your face obnoxious. The only ‘Bear’ was the little golden bear embossed into the leather menu you’d been handed when seated at the table. 

The way you did your reviews was…a tad unusual - some chefs in the industry called it ‘unfair’ but you called it…the fairest things could be. Instead of telling them when you’d be swinging by for a review since where’s the fun in that you’d call, make a reservation under some random name, and they’d know you’d accepted their offer when the review had been posted on your blog. 

It felt most honest and fair because you were one of the most renowned food critics in the country right now. If they knew you were coming- any EC with a brain would spend the night before your arrival, prepping the entire restaurant and staff - assuring they’d be on their best behavior to try and squeeze a higher grade out of you.

 But you were just a reader once upon a time, years ago- when you realized in culinary school that the making of the art didn’t interest you, it was the observing. Food wasn’t just about taste, but rather the whole experience. And if every famous food critic you’d taken interest in back in the day- never got a true experience due to their notability? You’d never have gotten into this field. So, you were most keen on keeping things fair. 

A woman with mousey brown hair comes up to your table, dressed in the typical waitress slacks and black button up shirt. “Hello! Welcome to The Bear. My name is Sam, have you dined with us before?” she asks. 

You sit up in your chair, peeling your eyes from the menu. You give her a small kind smile “I haven’t” you replied, urging her to continue her script. 

“Well welcome in, we're so happy you chose to spend your evening with us. So for our menu” she opens it in front of you. “Here” she points “are our wine options, fabulous selection this month. Then we have draft beers right next to it. On the following page” she points “all of our craft cocktails, then this,” she points in the bottom corner. 

“Our house cocktail - Just called The Bear. It’s wonderful, if you like old fashions you’ll love this - made with Bearface Triple Oak Whiskey.” She said and you nod. 

 “That please. That’s what I’ll start with” you said and she nodded. 

“I’ll get that right in. But quickly, just so you’re aware” she flipped the page and pointed. 

“These - are the dishes of the month. Each crafted by one of our two head chefs, they change monthly so if something calls to you I recommend you try- because it won’t be back” she said. You raised your eyebrows a bit in surprise and nod. 

“Thank you” you said and she gives a nod before heading off to the bar to put in your drink order before heading off to tend to other tables in your section. 

Having an alternating menu intrigued you, for such a high end establishment- one with a Michelin star at that- implementing such a menu would consistently have their star at risk. One dish, one app, one drink- that was not up to par and it would be revoked. You guessed the owners of this place liked living on the edge, as if being in this industry wasn’t already being constantly on edge. 

You gaze over the menu, the Chilean Seabass sounded like a fair assessment. Seafood was quite difficult to get right, especially in the springtime before peak season, and you’d be able to judge the consistency of the chopping and such because there was a fresh tomato corn salad that came with it. That was your rule when you came to judge restaurants, one main course, and one dessert.  

You’d felt like the main courses were the true stars of the show anyhow, and it would be unfair to muck up your palate with an app that was usually something easy to get right (since they were usually fried, covered in cheese, or some kind of carb). And the dessert usually showed the restaurant's creativity, which you loved to see, so 2 dishes was your max. 

The waitress returns with the cocktail, setting it down with a napkin under it. “Here you are, now- have you decided on a starter?” She questioned and you shook your head. 

“Straight to the good stuff, I’d like the Chilean Sea Bass please. And for dessert,” you flick the page and your eyes settle on the words savory cannoli - hmm, imaginative indeed. “And uh- The Michael Cannoli?” You said, shutting the menu and handing it to her. 

She nods with a smile, jotting down the order into her notepad before taking the menu and holding it to her chest. “That will be out soon as possible. Enjoy your drink” she said and headed back to the kitchen. 

You sit back sipping the cocktail and humming. She was right, much like an old fashioned, but floral notes. Almost…chamomile? Yes! That was it. Very interesting.

You slipped your iPad out of your bag, opening up your journaling app and grabbing the pencil out of the little sleeve. You quickly snapped a picture with your phone of the drink, airdropping it to yourself and adding it into the entry and writing;

‘To start; ‘The Bear’ house cocktail- initial thoughts ; not too sweet, strong (but not overpowering), chamomile? Some kind of herbal tea flower’ 

You take another sip, letting the flavors sit on your tongue a moment before swallowing. “Mmm!” You hum to yourself, finally realizing where the herby taste beneath the chamomile was coming from that gave it that oaky piney taste. 

‘Angostura bitters- will confirm!!’ You wrote just as someone approaches your table. You look up to see a man, short brown hair, stubble. He was smiling, holding a plate. 

“Hello! Here we have Arancini with our house-made pesto, courtesy of Executive Chef Carmen” he placed the dish in front of you next to your iPad. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, looking up at him, scarcel confused. 

“Wrong table” you murmured, thumbing the dish back in his direction lightly. He cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“Nope- ah, he- he said this table.” He replied. It did smell fantastic, and any other day you’d never deny delicious, deep fried balls of risotto dipped in smooth, decedent pesto- but you’re working right now and it’s not fair. 

“Well, you can tell him” you lifted the dish, offering it back. “I have a system. And I’m unsure how he realized that I’m coming here, tonight, but I dislike cheaters. And he should know if he’s read my blog- I don’t muck up my palate with grease before I try the main course.” The plate was so close to him now it was nearly digging into his chest.

He nodded quickly, taking the plate without another word and briskly walking back to the kitchen. You sat back in your seat with a slight scoff. 

He thinks he can win you over just like that? How did he even know you would be here?

You picked up your pencil once again, adding a note. 

For the chef; Arancini smelt delicious. Didn’t order it, so I didn’t taste it . Presentation wise; 7/10. Pesto looked like it was spooned in the dish a tad bit messy to me. 

You smiled to yourself, you knew he’d read the final review once it was posted. And since he wanted to be a little cheater and get a overall higher score since he was trying to weasel you into trying extra dishes- you’d kick his ego down a few extra pegs for fun. 

You sat, nursing your drink, adding extra little notes here and there, as well as editing a blog post about Ghost Kitchens you’d been working on and how they were ruining the mobile order industry on the side. You were so engrossed in the work, that you hadn’t even realized someone had approached your table until they cleared their throat awkwardly. 

Your gaze slowly travels up, seeing a blue apron covering a white shirt, tattooed hands holding- your meal? Your eyes flicker up to his piercing blue ones. “Chilean Sea Bass” he sets it in front of you. You snort a laugh. 

“Hm.” You look around before back at him “These people” you motion to the restaurant. “Other patrons. Which meals of theirs did you bring out- Chef?” You accentuate the last word, it was all too uncommon for a chef to personally bring a meal out to a table. 

You swore even in the ambient lighting, his cheeks flushed slightly. “You- uh- you declined, my Arancini. Why?” He asked, holding his hands behind his back, the position making his already toned and tattooed arms appear more muscular. It makes him all the more impressive he has all these tattoos and still made it in this industry. I can only imagine the shit he got for them. 

You raise your eyebrows in surprise at his boldness. “Because that’s Cheating. Mr.Berzatto. I’d assume you know my work well. Considering you know what I look like, so- why try to cheat? You know how I feel about appetizers. It’s a scapegoat.” You shrugged, locking your iPad when you realized he’d been peeking at the notes. 

“Messy” his eyes narrow. He scoffs a bit, alluding to the note you’d written a short while prior “Messy?” He asks again, you laugh a bit.  

“Mmhmm! Oh, was it you chef? Wow…I mean- now that I think about it” you shook your head, now just messing with him since you see how much he was dying to impress you. “I could’ve sworn- the pesto it just..was too loose. Overblended maybe? That’s why it was impossible to plate without making a mess.” You shrugged, cutting up your fish carefully and spreading the vegetables with your knife to observe the cohesivity of the cuts. 

He scoffs, “too- too loose?! W-y’know what. No. No. It- you’re gonna try it.” He demands and you look up at him, nearly laughing at the seriousness of his tone. 

“That depends. Bring me a pesto worth trying and I’ll think about it. Now” you wave him off casually “I can’t work with the chef over my shoulder. So- Shoo chef don’t bother me” you teased and he shook his head. 

“Game on.” He muttered, heading back to the kitchen.  

You smiled to yourself, the Arancini absolutely isn’t going into the review. But you’ll humor his ego by trying it.

You cut the fish thoroughly, checking the texture and the evenness of the seasonings slathered on the skin, writing little notes as you go along. The cuts of the vegetables were pristine. Nearly perfect. The only misshapen pieces were clearly cosmetic defects of the vegetable. The chef that cut these was immaculate with a knife. 

When you took your first bite, you nearly moaned. The fish was buttery, the skin was crispy, slightly spicy, tangy, the flesh melted in your mouth. The risotto was so cheesy and buttery and wonderful. You could eat this meal every night for the rest of your life and never get sick of it. It was the best Sea bass you’d ever tasted. 

You opened your iPad again, jotting down notes about the flavors, the mouth feel, all the usual points you hit in your review. 

This meal is a 9.2 out of 10. 

You write at the bottom. Very fair score, you never had rated something as a 10. Something being a 10 would be- you don’t even know what it would be. But it would be what the score says, perfection. And while this dish was wonderful, and very very good- it was not perfect. At least to your heavily trained palate. 

You finished what you wanted out of the meal, pushing the plate to the side and not soon after, Carmen was back at your table. He placed the plate in front of you, 3 perfectly circular Arancini discs were placed equal distance on the plate, and truly beautiful pesto, sat in the dish alongside it. It frankly was immaculately plated. 

“Unbroken pesto. Sorry again, about the last one.” He said, watching you carefully. You hum as you grab your fork, splitting one of the discs and digging out some of the risotto. 

“Could be firmer.” You said, eyes flicking to his. He nods, clearing his throat a bit. 

“It’s not- uh- it’s” 

“Fresh” you finished for him, raising your brows and he nods. “So- since you’re frying it. You cook it for about..a minute- maybe forty seconds less than you usually would.” You said, daintily taking the bite off your fork. 

“Heard..” he nodded, waiting for your reaction. You hummed a bit. 

“Great balance of parm and butter though. I’ll give you that. Neither overpowers the other, that’s hard to do considering the notes” you added, cutting up the crust and tasting it. 

“Mm-“ you scrunch your nose and his face visibly drops. “Mm-mm…no- not peanut oil…why would you do that? It totally overpowers the breadcrumb with this like…cheapy taste. I’d say it would be way better if you fried it in sunflower oil” you added, digging out more of the risotto and dipping it in the pesto before having a bite and humming. 

“This though” you point at the little dish of green sauce with your fork. “This is great.” You add and he nods. 

“Ok-yeah…ok…” he nods, rubbing his hand over his chin. “Thank y’for trying it.” He said and you nod. 

“I’ll be back for a fair assessment. I think I’ll pass on the cannoli tonight, and just get the bill. Thank you” you slipped your pencil in the case before putting your iPad in your bag and holding your hands on the table in front of you. 

“Y-y’re coming back” he said, sounding slightly surprised. 

You shrugged “well- you clearly want a full review based on your behavior tonight, Chef. So I’ll humor you. I won’t tell you when of course, so just pray that it’s a day like today-“ you paused, looking around. “Where things seem to be running…alright.” You sat back in your chair casually with a small smile. 

“I look forward to your review.” He gave a nod and headed back to the kitchen. 

It was 3 weeks before you’d decided to return back to The Bear spring had quickly turned to early summer, and you thought you’d given enough time for your little conversation with the head chef to slip his mind. 

It was 9:20, 40 minutes before closing. You did promise to come back at a random time, and no time is more random then a Friday night less than an hour before the kitchen closed. 

You pulled open the door, stepped in and headed up to the host stand where the same man that originally offered you the Arancini stood. “The picky critic returns.” He said, tapping his pen against the reservation book absentmindedly. 

“She does” you smiled a bit. 

“Well lucky f’you cousin said you get a table any time, right this way” he leads you to a booth near the back, where you had a perfect view of the restaurant. Much cozier then before, right next to the doors of the kitchen where you could hear the back of house crew buzzing about. 

“Same cocktail as last time?” He asked and you raised your brows in slight surprise as you sit. 

“No waitress?” You asked, getting comfortable and setting your iPad down next to the empty plate. 

“She’ll be over, just figured a friendly offer couldn’t hurt” he said with a small smirk. 

You roll your eyes playfully. “House cocktail please, and thank you. But don’t count on kindness boosting your hospitality score-“ you stop, realizing he never gave you his name. 

“Richie” he said, sticking his hand out to shake. 

“Richie.” You repeat, giving him your firm professional shake. 

“House cocktail comin’ up” he said and headed back to the bar. You mulled over the menu, lemon chicken picatta, that sounded like a perfect dish to judge this time around. 

A few minutes later, Richie returns, setting the glass down in front of you. “Waitress should be by momentarily, enjoy your meal” he said, heading back to the host stand. 

A bit after the waitress came to take your order, the restaurant had begun to die down. You were going to be the last person served tonight it looked like, since in 5 minutes they would stop seating people. 

You added additional notes to your section about the cocktail, getting a better photo of it for your blog when you hear a bit of commotion up front.

You look up, to see a woman with curled brown hair in navy blue scrubs, her hands on her hips, talking with Richie with a frustrated look. There were tears in her eyes, you couldn’t help but tune in to their conversation. 

“Richie, please let me see him- he- he hasn’t said anything and I…I just need to hear him say it to my face. Please!” She begs, tears were streaming down her face now. 

Richie looks around nervously, tugging her to the side so they weren’t standing right in front of the host stand. You lean over just a bit- not so much it would be noticeable, but enough your nosy ears could continue to pick up what was being said.

“Claire. You shouldn’t be here…I’m sorry- he told me-he said that..that you can’t come here anymore. It’s too much and he will apologize when he can find the words. But he can’t. So please before he sees you. Leave” he said softly, attempting to soothingly rub her arm and she jerks away like his touch burned her skin. 

“Fuck you, Richie. Get him. Now. I’m not working on his time anymore. This is my time now. I’ve waited around enough for him. I’m done waiting. Either get him yourself? Or I swear to god I’ll go in that kitchen and embarrass the fucking shit out of him” she hissed. 

Your eyebrows raised, shit. Whoever fucked her over should at least be warned. 

He snorts, clearly amused before stepping back and raising his arms in defeat. “Have at it ClaireBear.” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You think he’s gonna take kindly to you startin’ w’him in his house? Be my guest.” He shrugged, going back over to the host stand. 

And then it clicked. She’s here for Carmen.  

She laughed dryly, sarcastically, like a woman who’d had it. “You think I’m scared? Richie? You think I’m scared of little Carmy who couldn’t even check out a library book by himself? mm?” She goads him, arms crossed, chest heaving with rage. 

His head snaps back to look at her, brows raised in shock. “Kid- I really think you should go calm the fuck down, because Y’re not gonna like the way that this conversation ends w’him- at all.” 

And with that, she shoves open the kitchen door. You couldn’t just sit there and not watch- this was the juiciest drama you’d ever been privy to in person, and this means he’s single. You slightly curse yourself for being so giddy that this means the sexy chef would likely be on the market. 

Your foot catches the door before it closes, leaning against the frame. She storms in, eyes frantically darting over the kitchen. 

“Carmen.” She barks, the entire kitchen stops moving and looks at her, as if they were in shock and awe someone would ever raise their voice to him in such a way. 

He rounds the corner, holding a pan of focaccia dough that he nearly drops at the sight of her. He blinks a few times, squeezing his eyes shut as if she’d disappear when he opened them again. 

“The fuck are you-“ his eyes meet yours, his face going pale quickly, he looked white as a sheet. “Leave.” He orders her, slamming the dough down on the counter. 

“Leave?!” She laughs coldly, “you’re gonna tell me to leave?! You’re a fucking pussy Carmen. A pussy. Y’know- it was charity giving you a chance. Pity work.” She spits and you blink a few times, taken aback by such harsh words. 

Is she serious? She thinks anyone could believe dating a super hot, ripped, talented, chef prodigy - that was charity work in any sense of the word?

He scoffs, “Charity?” He chuckled dryly. “Claire- you begged me to fuckin’ be with you! You-you-y’re a fuckin gnat! Claire! You- all you do is-is fuckin’-” he runs his hand through his hair, his chest heaving in anger, “You dont know me, Claire! Alright? There- And I-I-I don’t want you i’m-i’m sorry-” 

She laughed, shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. “You-” she whispered, her chest shaking with a sob. “You- fucker- I- I gave you a chance…” she whispered and gripped her wrist sadly. “I- I was there for you, Carmen- when no one else could fucking stand you.” she croaked.

“And I never asked for you too- please- just…leave me alone-” he shook his head. “Leave. Please…just-pretend we never happened, it was a mistake, Claire.” he breathed, clearly utterly defeated, and It sounded like he’d told this girl these same words multiple times. 

“M-Mikey would be sick- Carmy, he’d- he’d hate who you’ve become…” she said meekly, and with that- something behind his eyes snapped.

“Claire I’m not DOING THIS I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKIN’ RESTAURANT. WERE OVER. YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME! YOU MEAN NOTHING CLAIRE!” He roars, the veins in his neck popping out, angrily and aggressively pointing to the door. “OUT. get the fuck out. G-get out, b-before I-I-I fuckin- holy fuck” he finds his composure once more, even though his breath was still ragged from his outburst, flicking his hand next to him his entire body trembling with panic. 

She looks to her left and right, she’s not that- 

Your thoughts were quickly proven wrong, when you see she was stupid enough to grab a pan off the stove to whip at him. 

“Aht!” the spanish woman standing a few paces to the right said, quickly grabbing the arm with the pan and twisting it behind her back. “Drop it.” she hissed. 

Carmen looks between the two of them, utterly in shock. “Y-y’were gonna hit me?” He asked her, face twisting in rage. “Fuck you. Fuck you Claire.” He seethed, taking the pan from his employees grasp and tossing it in the sink with a loud clatter. 

“Get the fuck out” you told her, grabbing her from the handle of the woman who’d stopped the assault, shoving her towards the kitchen door and into the front of the restaurant. “Y’re a fuckin crazy bitch.” You laughed dryly, giving her a hard shove for good measure. 

“Oh and who are you” she straightened herself out, pushing her bag up on her shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. Glad to see that Carmy still needs someone to protect him. I’ll gladly give up that spot.” she said, causing you to laugh. 

“Oh my god- you are pathetic. He just spelt it clear as day sweetheart- you are over. O-v-e-r. He doesn’t want you babe! And no, he doesn’t need my protection- I was enjoying dinner and apparently a show until you went batshit bitch.” You snip, plopping back down at your booth. 

She scoffed “he doesn’t want anyone. The only thing he wants - is to remain miserable. Good fucking luck, whoever you are.” She said before stomping out. 

“Yo she was really gonna throw somethin?” Richie asked as he walked over. Thankfully, it was just you, him, and the bartender in the front of the restaurant.

You nod “thankfully she didn’t realize I was there- Carmen would have had a nasty burn, and a concussion.” You said, taking a large sip of your drink. 

Carmen comes out, eyes meeting yours immediately. “Fuck- I- don’t worry y’re meal is comped and don’t…don’t worry about a review, i’m sorry- I-I guess it wasn't in the cards f’r us to be featured on y’r blog... I’m really so sorry… Shes- ah..” he rubs his arm nervously, trying to find the words. 

“A woman scorned” You teased, and he snorts a laugh, nodding a bit.

“Hell hath no fury, right?” He joked, sighing a bit. “It’s uh…it’s my fault I guess…I uh- I should’ve dealt with that…I've been putting it off” he said and you nod a bit.

“You off the clock?” you looked at your phone for the time, 10:07. 

“Shit- fuck- sorry- I’m so sorry- give me like- I was making y’r food…and then-” you shook your head, stopping him.

“No- No…I was uh-Asking to see if you maybe wanted to..have a drink with me? Not-not like…professionally…” you shrugged, stirring your half full cocktail with the bar straw that floated in it. 

“Sure- uh…sure- I’d like that lemme..lemme go change, i’ll be right out” he nodded, heading back into the kitchen.

[habaritess]

Is Claire Bear one of the villains of The Bear? Part 1

This is going to be kind of long, so I decided it'd be better to cut it up into 2 parts.

Recent discussions on here about Claire and Donna (@currymanganese, @thoughtfulchaos773) has got me really thinking about her character. I find it was weird how the majority of the people in The Bear have such a high opinion of her, and yet what we the audience see from her short time on screen is someone much more grey and maybe even a little sinister. Why sinister? Because Claire seems to have a major lack of conscience and is also incredibly manipulative. If Claire is such a great person like every fricken character seems to believe, then why do the writers create a character that has this many alarm bells?

I wanted to “understand” it.

I believe the first warning signs of Claire was that story she told about her childhood. A childhood friend broke her arm and while all the other kids were scared and panicked, Claire was calm. Carmy assumed it’s because she wanted to learn how to fix her broken arm so that she can help her, but Claire said she wanted to understand it. The graphic injury made her want to understand it. Let that sink in. The other kids were disturbed by the injury and no doubt also by the cries of the injured girl. Claire wasn’t. She was mentally disconnected from the scene because her empathy wasn't activated. Instead, she chooses to analyze the broken arm as if it isn’t connected to a fellow playmate. I suspect that this story Claire tells explains exactly what kind of person she is. She looks at people as a thing to analyze, and she does so in order to get what wants from them. 

We get an example of how she observes other people when she correctly guesses what Carmy named his restaurant. Carmy is completely shocked. When you watch the show, you get the impression that Carmy was infatuated with Claire while they were growing up, but they weren’t close. Definitely not close enough to the point where Carmy would have spoken to Claire about what he would name his hypothetical restaurant, but Claire is quite confident that Carmy had once “told” her. He never did. I suspect that Claire has been observing Carmy, just as she has been observing many people, and she guessed what he would have named just by what she knew of him. In one way, you could view this scene as a sweet thing, that it is evidence of Claire being secretly in love with Carmy for a long time, but the way the scene was portrayed was not of something sweet( or at least that was my impression of it). In fact, Carmy seemed a little disturbed by it even, and I suspect even he had some small alarm bells going off.

During the whole conversation, Carmy gave off the impression that he was forcing himself to make small talk with an older acquaintance to avoid being rude, but he would rather been anywhere else. He had no intentions of getting reacquainted with Claire, and gave the fake number as a way to dodge any future engagements. Most people would have taken the hint… but not Claire.

Claire always gets what she wants.

It is very common for a person who grew up in abusive, dysfunctional households to find themselves in relationships with abusive individuals. It’s partly because these individuals are drawn to the negative treatment that they are used to and don’t believe they deserve anything better, and also because abusive people are adept at spotting abused individuals, and know who they can and can’t manipulate. 

Little observant Claire knows Carm. She probably knew of his past crush on her and knew of his family issues. Carmy used to be way more withdrawn and quiet, lacking any friends, and was probably desperate for any positive attention. Carmy is one easy to manipulate, and Claire knows this and takes full advantage. Claire wants her some Carmy. I don’t believe she always liked Carmy, but I believe she was fully aware of his attraction towards her and probably had Carmy as a possible person to get with in the future if need be. She wanted her some Carmy and shoot her shot, but the first sign of trouble for her was Carmy barely recognizing her. She continued on and got what she thought was his number, only to find out it was a fake. This probably enraged her, and she went on a mission to get him, and get him she does through pure manipulation tactics.

She calls him, the first thing she does is ask him if he gave her a fake number, then informs him that she is “hurt”. This is the first guilt trip. Claire knows that poor, sad, lonely Carmy who grew up in a dysfunctional family that he consistently tried and failed to please, would be horrified at the idea that he let someone down. That they were sad because of him. Claire goes on to inform him that she knows his entire family plus the Faks. This is important. She is informing Carmy that he can’t escape. She is tying him down to her and giving him only a few choices.

Carmy does not confront problematic individuals. He spent the majority of his life living with his alcoholic and narcissistic mother who could never be reasoned with. He learned it was better to withdraw within himself, dissociate, and appease the people around him in order to lessen the toxicity of his environment rather than confront the problems directly. Eventually, he learned the only other way for peace is to cut certain people out of his life, and he did so by cutting off the majority of his family. If he can’t separate from them, he reverts back to his coping mechanism for dealing with his dysfunctional family,  mentally absorbing their toxicity and trying his best to appease them, never truly standing up for himself, like he did so with David Shields, the evil chef in his past. Claire took away his option to run away. She knows too many of the people he knows. Her threats trap him with her and he reluctantly accepts he can’t get away from her and rather than be upfront and straight up telling her he can’t deal with her right now, he reverts back to what he usually does and focuses on appeasing her needs. Claire continues on the attack by repeatedly asking him why he gave her a fake number and applying more mental pressure. He denies it and apologizes repeatedly for the mistake, and note that in this scene, she smiles broadly at his apologies. She is loving his groveling and knows she got him where she wants.

He is still the weak Carmy she observed growing up. She still continues on accusing him of giving her a fake number, really laying down the guilt trip. She then asks him if he truly wanted her to have the number to which nonconfrontational Carmy reassures her that he did, but come on. Listen to him. He sounded incredibly unenthused and she had him repeat it twice. She is not stupid. She knows he didn’t want her to have his number. Rather than accept reality, she doubles down. She asks him if he was busy today. Carmy hesitated for bit and was trying to confirm to her that, yes, he was busy, but despite knowing that he was going to decline her, Claire interrupts him, tells him not to make this weird, and asks for a favor. Carmy is guilt tripped into believing he did wrong for giving Claire a fake number and thus denying such a favor would be really wrong. Claire made it such a big deal that she even threatened to have Fak punch Carmy in the face for it, really laying down how disagreeable his actions were to her and that he deserved punishment in some way for it. Carmy is gaslighted into thinking his actions were horrible and now he must make it up to Claire… somehow. He does so by doing what he has learned to do since his childhood. Do what they want no matter what he feels about.

Now that Carmy feels like he owes Claire his attention, they start to make future plans together. Now, Carmy doesn't want to do this with Claire, but feels obligated to do it since he feels like he can’t escape her. On season 2 episode 5, Carmy decides to use the forced time he has with Claire to do something productive for the restaurant. He actually changes their plans to hang out… to go mail their wine permit off. Note here that before he calls Claire, Carmy actually sighs twice and shifts uncomfortably on his feet. Note that Carmy shuffles his feet when he is in a situation he doesn’t want to be in, like he did in the beginning of the Christmas episode with his family. He really, really, REALLY doesn’t want to hang out with Claire at all, but forces himself to appease her.

We get another inkling of how emotionally detached Claire is when she brags about being a horrible driver. The girl is a doctor, but she is excited about being a bad driver because of the risks involved. Being a bad driver not only put the driver at risks, but others as well, but Claire does not care about this part. Now one can suggests she is just joking to play with Carmy, but putting what she says in context with other things she said, it fits her personality to not think of others. Carmy attempts to start a conversation with Claire by asking her about her residency. Claire chooses not to answer him and instead tries to throw it back at him, leading to an incredibly uncomfortable moment. One thing I notice about the beginning of this scene is that Claire is clearly annoyed by Carmy’s change of plans. You can see how irritated she is in the beginning of the scene by her head movements and expression, so her dig at Carmy in this conversation was her way of getting back at him.

Claire knows that Carmy is using their hang out time to do something convenient for himself, and she is pissed about it because it’s just yet another sign that he “just not that into her.”

End of Part 1

Part 2

[jeremyallenwrench]

[gashofleastresistance]

“You always had so many friends. I was like... I don't know. I really wanted that. You know, Mike, Mikey had that.”

THE BEAR | 2.05 Pop

[unlikelyjapan]

Full disclosure: I wasn't a Syd/Carmy shipper until two weeks ago. Hell, I don't think I've ever been a shipper of anything up until this moment - but I've been happily married to my slow-burn best friend for eons, so this all struck a deep, nostalgic chord for me. Consider this post my coming-out party:

This whole thing came about from that well-worn Freud quote that "friendship is the art of distance while love is the art of intimacy" that I recalled from a crude psychology class.

From the most shallow, birds-eye POV, Carmy achieved intimacy with Claire (while maintaining distance/friendship with Syd) by disclosing details of his family situation, his panic attacks, expressing romantic affection, and establishing physical intimacy with someone.

He even seemed more eager to relay and express these experiences to his friends (see the cannoli conversation with Syd and Marcus) as he went deeper into the relationship. From this perspective, I empathize with people when they say they see his relationship with Claire as real personal growth, followed by a steep regression.

Claire seems to pantomime someone who is secure, but is actually pretty anxious in matters of the heart - the idealized projections she places on Carmy based on her proximity to him a decade ago, her unwillingness to walk away from the red flag of the 'wrong number' fiasco, and her unrelenting insistence to know why he tried to dodge her in the first place. I'll say nothing of the constant placating.

Claire is a sort of a faux 'sword of destiny' for Carmy - he yearned for her attention in his youth, it was loudly proclaimed to be "the good thing" by his abusive family, and so it's the only logical choice in Carmy's mind once he's beaten over the head with it for the umpteenth time - it's the love chosen for him by his family and his past self before he pieced together ways to partially escape, it's fatalism, it's the end of the weary search for "fun" and happiness.

He's never truly happy or having "fun" (as he doesn't know how to define that in his mind - that's why we're tortured with 5 grueling minutes of Logan), but he feels cared for and is going through the motions of being "that guy who is fun and in love".

Love even had to be defined for him by his inherited family friend/handyman who he didn't even know was his "best friend" until Claire relayed it to him - he blindingly accepted both assertions from Fak, falling back into his family's narrative that he can't survive or be normal without their collective help.

By contrast, Sydney is probably the first thing Carmy has ever chosen for himself without outside influence from family or employers. She was his first hired employee, his first true friend who wasn't a blood relative, and probably the first person he feels mirrors his passions without a need to compete with her over them.

Sydney is a choice - she is happiness (in whatever shape or form that you choose to define it, it can be aromantic if you'd like) that Carmy found all by himself, without the narrative being driven by outside influences. They have fun together on their own frequency, but Carmy's black-and-white thinking can't recognize it for what it is - he's still reaching for a sense of "fun" that was repeatedly sold to him as his family tried to push him along the path of normalcy (an impossible feat for a Berzatto).

Syd and Carmy share a brand of maternal grief/strife and a profound love of service that breeds a slow intimacy. By saying "you deserve my full focus" Carmen is saying that Sydney's happiness is more important than his own, which can sound abysmal in type, but is also a natural pre-req for love when given willingly - which I think he is giving willingly for her, just not willingly for the anxiety and minutiae that comes with actually running a fine dining restaurant. He needs someone he can have absolute trust in to hold his hand through that part.

That's why he could only create The Bear with her, and why he says he wouldn't want to do it without her.

They're both fearful and avoidant, which is a fatally-wounding powder keg if they were to connect this instant, but with ever-growing intimacy and self-work (which Claire - however insufferable her dialogue - probably planted seedlings in with Carmy, and his openness and absolute trust in Sydney could drive her towards, too) their coming together could heal many of their longstanding wounds.

This was more of a meandering walk than I hoped, but I think it all comes down to actively choosing happiness vs. passively chosen happiness - Sydney is the first thing Carmy has ever chosen for himself, and we were beaten over the head with depictions of how much he cherishes that agency and Syd this season. I really hope S3 is a big mess of mirroring and sharing for them.

[veryberryjelly]

the light that always goes out

carmen berzatto x fem!reader

prompt : softly kissing that place between their neck & shoulder

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

every night you tried to wait up for carmen before you went to sleep.

most nights he would come home before you were fully asleep, even if you were literally falling asleep as he walked in the door, but sometimes it was too late and you were too tired to see him when he got home.

annoyingly, tonight was one of those nights.

you hadn't seen carmen in a few days and you were truly missing him. when you had stopped by the bear today in hopes of catching him on his lunch break, you only found richie who informed you he had stepped out.

when you asked where he couldn't give you an answer and you couldn't wait around for him as you had to get back to work.

so you were determined to stay up to see him, but you were exhausted.

it was like the moment your head hit the pillow your eyes began drooping.

you really tried, but before long you were curled up against carmy's pillow with the blankets pulled up around you.

you woke sharply, sitting in an upright position on the bed.

nothing really woke you. no nightmares or noises, just some sort of alert in your brain waking you up.

you glanced to your side, hoping to find carmy's sleeping form there, but when you caught sight of the empty sheets, your brows furrowed.

had carmen not come home ?

a quick glance around the room told you that he hadn't been in here.

and the light under the door confirmed your fears.

you always left a light on for carmen, whether it was the lamp in your living room or the kitchen lights.

and every night he would turn off all the lights on his way to bed. it was almost like a signal between the two of you.

you were out of bed in an instant, pulling a sweater over your head and grabbing your phone as you headed out to the main body of your shared apartment with carmen.

the panic in your chest subsided when you spotted a figure hunched over the kitchen counter.

carmen.

you let out a soft sigh as you padded over to him, your arms wrapping around his stomach as you rested your head on his shoulder.

" what're you doing up, baby? " you questioned, taking stock of the papers strewn infront of him, along with the half empty cup of coffee making a ring on one of the papers.

he dropped the pen in his hand, leaning back into your form slightly, his cold hand lifting to rest on your forearm.

" just tryna get all this shit sorted out for the restaurant. " he explained, lifting his other hand to run through his curls.

a quick glance at his phone on the counter reminded you of the time.

your arms squeezed tighter around him and you buried your head further into the crook of his neck.

" carmy, you can do this tomorrow. it's 3 in the morning. come to bed... please " you muttered against his skin.

" i gotta get this done, baby. i'll be in in a couple minutes "

you knew that wouldn't happen, the minute you left he would get sucked back into the paperwork and you wouldn't see him until morning.

you pressed a few short kisses to the junction between his shoulder and his neck before unwrapping your arms from his torso.

you didnt go too far, instead sitting on the other stool at your breakfast bar.

he might not take care of himself, but he would take care of you.

" what're you doing ?" he questioned, bringing his gaze from the paperwork to look over at you.

" i'm waiting for my boyfriend before i go to bed. and also giving him a hand with his paperwork if that's what it takes to get him to sleep "

you never failed to surprise carmen with how well you knew him.

he let a soft sigh fall from his lips as he dropped his pen.

" c'mon then, sweetheart " he said, the faint smile assuring you that he wasnt actually annoyed.

his hand on the small of your back led you towards the bedroom, the other flicking off the kitchen light and sending the apartment into darkness.

[boardchairman-blog]

**Shots of the Episode**

The Bear (2022)

Season 3, Episode 1: “Tomorrow” (2024) Director: Christopher Storer Cinematographer: Andrew Wehde

[userboygenius]

Jeremy Allen White and Molly Gordon in THE BEAR (2022-), 2x08 "Bolognese", directed by Christopher Storer.

[mporium]