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The Good Place Drabbles

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Eleanor woke up feeling good

She always did, now that she was in The Good Place. It was almost frustrating, the endless bliss of perpetually-cool pillows and perfectly placed sunbeams. She missed that feeling of strettttching her too-tight muscles after a night on the couch of some rando. 

But this morning she felt really good, like…

And then she saw him. Chidi, twirled up in her blankets like a spaghetti fork. The only time he’d ever be selfish, when he was completely unaware. 

It was all coming back to her now. The confession, the kiss, the way they’d ignored Tahini pounding on the door, prattling on about some nonsense. The way Chidi had been completely unselfish. 

“Oral sex,” she whispered to herself. “He was unselfish at going down on me.”

She’s actually reciprocated, rather than pretending to have lockjaw, and that had been hot, too. He’d been super excited. “Women don’t tend to prefer this,” he’d said, taking his glasses off like a Black Superman shedding his Clark Kent nerd suit. 

She just licked the shaft slowly before surprising him by shoving the whole delicious thing in her mouth like a fat kid with a hot dog. She’d been good, no question. 

He stirred, so she reached over and shook him. 

“Good news! We totally banged last night,” she said. 

He blinked at her, sleep still in his eyes, before a look of panic set in. “We didn’t–” he looked down, realizing that beneath those sheets, he was still as naked as the day they’d banged. “We did. We did.”

“And, not to brag, but I was really good. Two months of death can’t stop natural talent.”

“What a weird thing– listen, don’t panic.” He flung himself out of bed, still wrapped in the blanket, which was a little disappointing, now that she’d seen his butt. He started straightening out the sheets. “We can fix this.”

“Fix what?” she leaned against the door frame. “This was great. We were amazing at this.” She watched him almost trip on his blanket mu mu, before. “Wait, are you upset?”

“I’m not upset.”

“Did I take advantage of you?” She sat down on the bed, wrinkling the sheets. “Was this your first time?” 

He finally stopped his manic sheet-smoothing. “My first time was decades ago, well, a decade and a portion of a decade.”

“Brag much? Listen, if you’re upset, I can go.”

“No. No. I’m going to go, clear my head. We’ll come back to this later, much later, I just–” and he’d managed to back out of the room before she could stop him, still wrapped in a blanket, pants in hand. 

Eleanor laid back on the bed. “Self-five,” she said, slapping hands. Today had been great, and he’d be back post-freak out. If not today, several days from now, after reading a thick book. 

They always came back. 

Chapter Text

“Listen, I need you to kiss me,” Eleanor said. She shifted closer.

“That would be very wrong,” Chidi said, inching away. “I have a soulmate and you are not her.”

“Listen, I know you want to believe the best in people, so this is going to come as a shock, but– you’re being lied to.”

“Sylvia would never lie to me.”

“Sylvia isn’t real. I mean she’s real, like she’s a person, but she’s not a soulmate. Or not your soulmate. We– you and me– are soulmates.”

Chidi stood up. “Why would you think that? Who gave you that information? How would that even work?”

Eleanor tapped her fingers. “Actually, Sylvia might be a– demon or something? That’s not really clear. The point is that someone is straight-up screwing with us.”

“You’re trying to tell me that everything we know is a false narrative meant to conceal a greater truth.”

“Not how I would phrase it, but sure.”

“And that the truth is instead that we– you and I– are soulmates, and we’re being fed this narrative by someone that includes, but is not limited to, the woman I’ve been sleeping next to for months?”

“Yeah, basically.”

“Who else is in on it?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Definitely my fake, hot soulmate. I don’t think he’s even a real postal worker.”

“This is a lot to take in.”

“I know, buddy. Believe me, I’ve been going nuts ever since the flashbacks started.”

“Flashbacks?”

“Yeah, ever since we got here I’ve been having weird déjà vu, like sometimes when I’m waking up or eating sushi or when I was down by the lake, I just have these memories. I can’t piece them together, but I know you’re a part of the solution.”

Chidi grabbed her hands. His hands were warm, very human. “And you want to kiss me because you think it will trigger something that will help you understand who we are and why we are here?”

“No. Dude.” Eleanor pulled him closer. “I just think you’re hot.”

Chapter Text

“Listen, if you were really teaching me ethics, clearly you tricked me into it,” Eleanor said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Why would I try to trick you?” Chidi asked. “Isn’t it just as likely you requested I teach you?”

“Maybe it was a trade-off. Maybe I was teaching you to be cool. Not that I probably got that far into my lessons.”

“That’s illogical. If I needed to pickup skills in the afterlife, those skills would be something practical, like yoga, or decision-making.”

“I’ve got it! We must have been sleeping together. That’s why I trusted you! And you were probably picking up valuable skills.”

“Are you suggesting you were teaching me how to–”

“Fork. Ugh, that sounds unpleasant. Have sex.”

“Do you think I’m some sort of virgin? I assure you, I had several girlfriends offer to move in with me over the years, and I considered–”

“Not like no experience, more like minimal experience with room to prosper under the right tutelage. Anyone can pick up tips. Tricks, positions, you know. Apparently you know.”

“I concede it’s not impossible, if we’ve been through this, or something like this before, that, with time and a greater knowledge of each other, I would have slept with you– not in a teacher/student way, just in a regular… sex capacity.”

“You had me at teacher/student. Listen, the door’s locked–”

“No, it isn’t.”

“I’ll lock it,” she said, sprinting to the door. “If we’ve slept together in the past, maybe we can unlock some more information.”

He stood, his face twisted as he thought it through. “You really think this could work?”

“It’s all I’ve got, unless that lady has more notes.” She tapped her foot. “Jeez, Eleanor, you really could have written more information.”

“Let’s try it.”

She walked over to him, not too quick since she feared he might run off, taking all that knowledge with him. He held out his arms, and she stepped into them.

The hug felt nice. Wonderful, actually. Who knows when the last time on earth she was touched? And certainly the postal worker had run off any time he was near her. But did this hug, great as it was, feel familiar? 

She looked up at him. He really was good looking. Any version of her would have gone for him, once he took off his glasses. And his suit. 

He lowered his mouth, capturing hers, and. Whoa. Eleanor had kissed a lot of dudes, but this one was top-notch. His breath hitched ever so slightly, and she used that as an opportunity to part her lips. 

This was hot. She had to have more. Could she maneuver him to the couch, the bed, any flat surface?

He put a hand on her ass, grazing it ever so slightly, and that was invitation enough for her. 

She pushed him back, straddled him on the couch, feeling that thrilling bit of nerves in her stomach as she dove back in for another kiss. 

He sucked her lower lip into his mouth, and those nerves moved south. She pressed up against him and–

“Ah, Eleanor– are you kidding me?” 

Through the sex fog permeating her brain, she recognized that voice. Michael. 

“I thought you locked the door,” Chidi said. 

“I swear I did. Maybe locks don’t work the same when you’re talking about some all-powerful dude.” She climbed off him. 

Just then, the drunk girl in shorts ran in. 

“You know,” Eleanor whispered, so only Chidi could hear. “I feel like I learned a lot.”

“About our past or our future?” he asked her. 

She leaned a little closer. “About how I want to do that again.”

Chapter Text

“Do you have any, like, feelings like that for me now?”

“I don’t think I do,’ Chidi said, slowly.

Ok, time to redirect, Eleanor thought. It was easy as pie, not letting Chidi know that she hated hearing that. “Sorry, why are you sorry? Because I’m relieved. So, all good.”

“Wait,” Chidi said. He put out a hand on her arm. “Wait, don’t do that. Don’t push me out. You have to– I need a minute to think about this.”

“Think about what? You either feel a way or you don’t. Like I hate tapioca pudding, and if you showed me some video of me going down on tapioca, I wouldn’t change my mind.”

“Is that just prior to the– it doesn’t matter. Eleanor, you have to understand. The me in the video was just so sure of himself, of us.”

“It must have been nice, for past us.”

His hand slid down her arm, until his hand was on hers. “I bet it was.”

Part of her wanted to run, no question, but the other part of her really liked having his hand enveloping hers. He felt warm.

“I guess we could talk about it,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t leave. “At length, I mean.”

“That’s an idea.” He looked at her, really looked at her, like she was Kierkegaard. “Or…”

“Or?”

Chidi lifted his other hand, reaching towards her jawbone. “Or we could see if we could be those people again.”

She sucked air in, certain she’d misheard. “Are you punking me?”

“I’m just– some other version of me was so sure about this other version of you. I think we owe it to each other to try to– try.”

“I mean, sure. If you want.”

He was tentative, carefully running his thumb across her jaw before he pulled her close, kissing her.

His lips were soft, like a Chapstick explosion, and she waited just a moment before grabbing for his waist, trying to pull him closer. She could hear his little hum of surprise, but he was into it too. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth

He pulled back. “Are you sure–”

She grabbed his hand, pulling him past the clowns towards the bed.

And there it was, the bed she’d slept alone in ever since their most recent reboot.

“How can you stand to get in an unmade bed?” he asked, taking the room in. “How do you have so much laundry? And how do you leave so many dishes in the sink but also in here?”

“Ok, refocus,” she said. “Do you want to do this or should I?”

He frowned. “I’m not sure what you’re–” She reached up, cutting him off with a kiss before pulling him onto the bed.

They tumbled down, landing on their sides. She scooted up, eyeing him appreciatively before he leaned over, kissing her collarbone. Whoa. This was so hot, like she hadn’t touched another person in who knows how long. She hooked her free leg around his, rolling on top of him.

And then rolled right back off. “Dude! High five!”

He looked mortified. “Sorry, I should have warned you.”

“No, I’m like seriously impressed. The angle was all wrong on that tape, so I had no idea.”

“It’s not– listen, we’re going to need some assistance if you want to take this further.” He pulled the blanket over himself. “Janet?”

Eleanor cocked her head. “Do you need someone to watch just to get revved up? Because I’ve watched that porn and yeah, we should totally.”

His eyes went wide. “I was looking for some KY. Trust me on this. Where is Janet, anyway?”

“Janet?” Eleanor waited a minute. “I’m sure it’s fine. She’s probably just busy murdering her ex or whatever.”

“That’s not great.”

“I’ll be fine,” Eleanor said. She started laying light kisses on his neck, and he rolled on top of her. He pressed into her, and she really needed that, after all.

“You gotta lose the pants,” she gasped a few minutes later. “Take ‘em off.”

He reached down, pulling his sensible khaki slacks off at the same time as his utterly practical tighty-whities, revealing–

“Oh shirt,” she said. “We definitely need some lube, pronto.”

“Or! I could–” He wiggled down her body, carefully removing her jeans before folding them. Then–

He was good. She couldn’t exactly pull him closer by his hair, close-cropped as it was, but she could angle her leg to lock him in place. And keep him as close as possible. Chidi had struck her as an adult virgin type when she’d first laid eyes on him, but clearly he’d learned a few things on earth.

He pressed a finger into her, and she could feel herself near that crest. Her mouth fell slack, and she tensed ever so slightly when–

He pulled away.

Eleanor, still on the verge, gasped. But then she saw Chidi was gasping for air himself.

“Asthma,” he rasped.

“I can’t believe we thought this place was ever heaven.” She sprinted out of bed to the kitchen, where his inhaler was.

***

Twenty minutes later, or about seven hours in vagina time, Chidi told her he was feeling better.

“And so am I,” Eleanor said. “There was a time I might have thrown a man his inhaler and left to go back to the bar. I’m a better person now.”

“I feel terrible about this,” he said. “I can’t believe, finally being a person who made a decision, that my lungs gave out like that.”

“You did make a decision.” She scooted a little closer to him. “And I’m going to go ahead and say it. I think it was the right decision, even though I almost killed you. Or– would have killed you? If you weren’t already dead, I mean.”

“Thank you for that pep talk.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, even though that went a little pear-shaped, I still think we can make this work.”

He paused, an achingly long pause. “You want to try again?”

“I do.”

He looked her over. “I feel like that’s a good idea.”

“Great!” She pulled off her button down, straight over her head. “I was thinking we could–”

“Attention everyone,” Michael’s voice, loud as an intercom speaker, boomed. “I need everyone to come to the town square for a mandatory meeting. Right now.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Chidi said, his eyes on her bra.

“Absolutely,” Eleanor said.

“Shawn is here,” Michael boomed. “I repeat, Shawn is here.”

“Oh boy.” She was probably going to need that shirt after all.

Chidi stood up. “I need the inhaler.”

Chapter Text

“Listen, Teach. I’m going to need you to fix the grade on this ASAP,” Eleanor said, leaning over the desk. Her crocheted top was low-cut enough to give him a view of the goods. 

“Ms. Shellstrop,” Teach said, pulling off his glasses and using them to point at her paper. “You earned this grade. You turned in a C+ paper.”

“It wasn’t my fault Kierkegaard is so boring,” she said. He still wasn’t looking down her shirt. “Like I get that dead Austrians aren’t speaking to me, personally, but couldn’t this guy just lighten up? Have some fun? Hit a bong?”

He straight-up rolled his eyes at her, which was infuriating. “I’m sorry this great moral philosopher wasn’t high on party drugs for your amusement.”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t spend more time on this paper. But I got the gist. That’s got to count for something.”

He stood up, walking around his desk to face her. “You have consistently come to class late, refused to contribute anything of value to the group conversation, and once, you fell asleep on a bag of Cheetos.”

Maybe it was just because she hadn’t gotten laid in, like, weeks, but having Teach this close to her was causing her senses to go haywire, convincing her he was hot, even though he wore glasses.  “But I’ve been here every single class.”

“And you haven’t retained anything,” he said. “You haven’t attended my office hours to ask for additional assistance.”

She went silent. “I wanted to.” 

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Ok, I didn’t want to. But I couldn’t even in some weird universe where I wanted to hang out with you anyway.” She felt her cheeks heating up, so she pressed a cool fist against them, willing herself to get paler. “I work two different jobs.”

“Most of the people here are–”

“I don’t mean like the kids working the desk at dorm, where you get to study in between drunks. I’m talking at a gas station, where I’ve already been held up once this semester, and overnights at a Holiday Inn.”

“You work the front desk?”

“I work housekeeping.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “Still, my class has to take priority. You sign up knowing that school comes first.”

“Listen, man. I’m just trying to get a degree so I can work front desks. I’m not looking for anything fancy. But I can’t keep my scholarship, pathetic though it might be, if you keep grading me like this.”

He stared her for a minute. “I can’t, in good conscience, give you a better grade than your peers who are turning in better papers.”

She wanted to scream. It should be legal to scream at people. 

He started to turn back to the stack of papers on his desk. 

She considered ways to get his attention back on her. Sex? No, obviously she would rock his world, but he’d probably imprint on her. Like a duck. Virgins always did. What else was there?

“Wouldn’t Kierkegaard say grades, like life, are subjective? Like I get it. Some students are like, ‘oh, I’m so brilliant, I’m basically queen of the Amazons’.” And they get a perfect score on everything because they’re smart and regal and have nothing going on other than school.”

“Are you referring to–”

“Or the old guy in the class who is, like, ‘I’ve had my whole life to read through every thick book and I have epistemological reasons for my so-called bad behavior.’ It’s not like he’s got work to distract him, since he retired way back in his mid-life crisis.”

“Eleanor, I–”

“Or the chick who’s basically a super computer, like ‘I have total awareness of the universe and I don’t need to sleep.”

Teach was silent for a long moment, just staring at her. 

It was hot. She really was going to have to bang him one day.  

“That’s not what subjectivity means in the sense that Kierkegaard meant,” he said. 

“I think I was asleep that day.”

“It was Candy Crush. Still, I like what you’re saying. If you can do some additional work to tie your relativism to specific moral philosophers, I think we can talk about raising your grade.”

“Thank you.”

“Through extra credit, to be clear.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less."

Chapter Text

“Hi. My name is Eleanor Shellstrop. And I need you.”

He blinked at her. 

“To teach me philosophy. I thought you’d get that from context clues. It doesn’t matter.”

He stood up, slowly. “Are you a student here?”

“That’s actually a funny story. No.” 

“Do you have a suitcase?” Chidi asked her. 

“Oh, yeah, by the way. I know this sounds a little weird, but I just spent almost all my money on my plane ticket. And then the rest of my money just trying to get a decent burrito in the airport. Can I stay with you?”

“You’re telling me you got on an airplane to fly out here from, I’m guessing here, America–”

“Phoenix, Arizona.” 

 “America, based solely on a YouTube video, so you can take a class other people pay money for, and you want me to house you in the process?”

Her mouth went a little dry. Maybe she should have called first.

“Ok.”

“What?”

“I’ve been trying this new thing lately. I’m taking improv classes, trying to become more decisive. There’s this concept called yes, and, where you must agree to whatever idea is presented.”

Ugh, Eleanor thought. Improv.  

“I’ll admit, the first three to six months were absolute hell. There were a lot of tears. Some of them were mine. But I’m making progress. I agreed to using a Russian accent in a scene last night. And now this.”

And now this. Listen, I should probably lie down for a quick twelve hour nap. I did not sleep on those flights. Where’s home?”

He looked at her, his eyes going wide. “I guess your home is… with me.”