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quollstar · 11 months

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Devil in Disguise; ch1

michael (the good place) x reader

warnings: this is a pairing between you and unreformed demon michael, aka before the team cockroach storyline, aka he's evil and mean. what can i say. be mindful that he's going to call you names and stuff so if that makes you upset be careful reading!

notes: there isn't too much actual plot here. basically reader/you are a fifth member of the group of humans michael is torturing. this is somewhere reboot like 300 or something. this work does include use of "Y/N"!

You were pretty sure the Architect was a demon.

It wasn't an easy conclusion to come to. Not at all. And you definitely didn't want to think that, not when you had previously believed you were in Heaven, and believing anything else meant that you were definitely in Hell. He wasn't particularly obvious, either, so long as you weren't looking. He played the part of the helpful, well-meaning, a-little-bit-clueless Architect so well that you wondered if it was a part at all.

Then the mask would slip for just a moment. He would say something so cruel that he had to have known it was hurtful, or he'd smile to himself when he shouldn't and he thought no-one was looking; but you were always looking. Really, your stupid crush on him was the only reason you suspected him at all, because you always wanted to be near him, and thus were always there for his slip-ups.

A few misplaced grins could be excused (he didn't know a lot about humans or social norms after all) but after a while it was a pattern. Maybe you only started looking because of your past experiences with manipulative liars on Earth, or maybe you never really believed you were in The Good Place at all; but either way, it seemed like you were the only one with any suspicions. So you started keeping a mental list of everything he did that just seemed off. Eventually it got so long that you couldn't excuse it. He wasn't what he seemed, and one day, you decided you were going to confront him about it.

So now, here you were. You'd asked if you could speak to him privately and he had obliged, looking equal parts confused and concerned as he ushered you into his office. The place was familiar from when you'd first 'woken up' here, been told where 'here' was, and that you'd made it and now you could enjoy your afterlife. It had been perfect until it wasn't, and you didn't like being forked around with, thank you very much. You tried to hold on to that energy as you passed through the hallway ("Welcome! Everything is fine." Yeah, right.) and took your seat in front of his desk.

Still, sitting across from him now, you started to doubt your suspicions again. You'd always been a paranoid person on Earth; wasn't it possible that you were just thinking too far into things again? And maybe he was just an idiot; maybe he didn't understand how to be nice to people yet. You'd known plenty of actual humans who still didn't grasp that concept, so really, shouldn't he get a pass?

But then you remembered your list; all the times he had laughed when Eleanor would trip, and then tried to cover it up with a cough; all the times he'd backhandedly called Tahani a failure to her face and she'd had to hold back tears; all the times he had oh-so-conveniently forgotten to mention that, by the way, there would be fun, new things involved today, even though he knew Chidi hated not knowing things like that beforehand. Given as the neighborhood had only started five months ago, there was no explanation for just how many times he'd managed to mess up, unless the reason was that he was trying to mess up.

So you'd set your jaw, even as the perfectly realistic look of concern on his face stayed, and he'd tented his hands under his chin and asked you, "What can I help you with?" He looked so much like a not-man afraid of learning that his resident was unhappy that it nearly made you waver again (Fork, he was good at that) but you held strong.

No point in beating around the bush. "This isn't The Good Place."

"I beg your pardon?"

"This is The Bad Place, and you're a demon."

He froze for just a second too long before knitting his eyebrows and slowly blinking once, twice, all the while still staring at you with very apparent shock.

Finally he spoke, calm as ever, aside from the note of surprise in his voice. "Why would you think that?"

You couldn't believe he was still committed to the bit, but then again, you didn't really expect him to throw up his hands and say, 'you got me!'.

You huffed. "There's a lot of reasons, man, but how about we start with my biggest one: you're kind of an ash-hole."

He didn't speak, just kept looking at you (rather uncomfortably), so you filled the silence for him.

"You're constantly condescending in a way I could excuse at first 'cause, hey, you're not human, but then you go and keep pushing everyone's buttons even though, realistically, you should know what's a sore subject- because you know everything! You're mean to Tahani and Jason, you're always putting Eleanor in stressful situations, you're downright cruel to Chidi, and that leads to my next point: you're never not around the five of us. Like, don't you have other residents?"

You paused to give him a chance to offer a rebuttal (and catch your breath), but he stayed quiet. In fact, his face had shifted to one of mild boredom over the course of your rambling, and you balked at him incredulously.

"You don't have anything to say? 'Cause I can keep going, I have a whole list–"

"To be honest, I'm just surprised you actually figured it out."

You mirrored his expression from before, blinking at him slowly.

He sounded completely different, like he'd undergone a total tonal 180°. Not only was his voice different, he looked a lot more sinister now, having finally dropped the mask of concern. His brows were raised over his glasses and his mouth was a flat line, and though he was in the same pose as before, now his tented hands looked devious rather than accommodating. His eyes were half narrowed behind the lenses, looking right at you unwaveringly.

The change was enough to shock you into silence for the time being. To be honest, even though you were pretty confident in your theory when coming here, you'd almost wanted to be wrong. Maybe he would have laughed at you good-naturedly, or asked you if you were feeling alright, then said something to explain his behavior; something that would quell your fear beyond all doubt. You'd have a conversation with him about treating your friends better (he'd say something like, "I'm so sorry, I had no idea!" and it wouldn't be a lie) and you'd be able to go back to enjoying your afterlife, now with a more open relationship between all of you and the Architect overseeing your paradise.

That would have been great, but obviously, it would never happen. He'd confirmed your fears rather than assuage them, and now you were sitting in a small room with a not-man you now knew to be a demon. One that had been torturing you this entire time. One that was watching all of this dawn on your face with a budding grin on his own.

You swallowed, then cleared your throat, trying not to look at his mouth. You were pretty sure his teeth looked sharper now than before, and you didn't want to think about that. Instead you spoke, forcing your tone to remain even and unconcerned. "So, I am right? You're… this is all just an elaborate torture scheme?"

"Yeah, dummy, and to be honest, you took a lot longer to figure it out than I thought you would. If it were Jason, sure, I could excuse it, because that guy is so stupid," he cut himself off by laughing, an evil sort of chortle that didn't feel right coming from the Michael you knew. Though, you supposed, this wasn't the Michael you knew, but instead the one you'd caught glimpses of under the surface since getting here. And man, he was a lot meaner than you could have guessed.

He shook his head, giggles subsiding as he leveled you with an almost disappointed look. "But you? I really expected more from you at the start. I mean, in the hundreds of times we've been through this, this is the first time you've ever been the one to call me out!"

"I'm sorry, hundreds of times–?"

"Yes, hundreds. Each time one of you– it's just you five, by the way, you got that right too; everyone else is one of us– each time one of you figures it out, I just wipe your memories and we start over. Back to square one, as it were. It's great."

He grinned widely as he waved a hand, bringing up a sort of floating computer screen to his left. On it was a chart with a bunch of lines marking different restarts, if you had to guess; some no taller than an inch and a couple that stretched off the top of the screen. Most, though, seemed to hover around the same height, including the highlighted one at the very right. Your current timeline. Probably. To be honest, your head was still reeling from Michael's abrupt change in attitude, so you weren't feeling too sharp. In fact, you felt a little sick to your stomach.

Michael was still talking, gesturing to different points on the chart and explaining his favorite events in those timelines (apparently at one point, you'd been trapped inside a torture obelisk for a month which was– direct quote– "super fun") but you didn't hear much, or at the least you didn't comprehend what you were hearing. It was just too much information overload.

"–Hey, dummy, you look a little pale– you're not going to throw up, are you? Because as embarrassing as that would be for you, and how fun it would be for me, I don't really want to have to clean that up." He waved his hand in front of your face a few times until you focused back on him.

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. "Obviously, because I'm going to restart again, so it doesn't matter. God, you really aren't bright, huh? I mean, in the very first version of this, Eleanor was already coming up with a plan to get ahead of me once I restarted it, and it only took her like a minute. It didn't work, of course, but at least she thought of something. You're just sitting there with your mouth open like an idiot." He snapped.

You couldn't really help it; you winced. His biting tone was a little too alike to all the shitty men you'd met on Earth, and if there was one thing you were excited for when you thought this was The Good Place, it was the unspoken promise that you'd never have to deal with that kind of man again.

Maybe it was even worse coming from him because you'd thought, at one point, that he was your friend. If not a friend then at least someone who had your best interests at heart. Even if it was never true, it still stung to have him sneer and call you an idiot.

Michael dropped the smirk, replacing it instead with a fake pout; pushing his bottom lip out mockingly. "Are you offended? No, don't answer that; I know you are. I hurt your fragile human feelings. Poor baby." He shifted forward, hands flat under his chin as he leaned on his elbows. The elegant desk wasn't big enough to keep him out of your space and you did your best to hold your ground even as he invaded your personal bubble. "I can see those tiny cogs turning– no, literally, I can see your brain move when you think, it's actually very gross… So what are you thinking about? What's your plan here; what's the play? Whatever you're thinking, let me tell you, it's not gonna work." Ending the mocking with another bout of wicked laughter, he watched you expectantly, condescending sneer back on his face now.

Refusing to back down, you stared back at him, trying to look unbothered even while your mind raced. All of this had been for nothing; all the ethics lessons with Chidi, getting to know your new friends (who were the only other humans here, apparently, so you guessed it was a good thing you'd never decided to hang out with anyone else); all of it was pointless because you were just going to do it all again. So, you figured, if none of this mattered, you could afford to act a little brash.

"What are you thinking?" Michael reiterated, calm as ever, wholly unworried. Why should he be?

"I'm wondering if demons can feel pain."

"Why–"

You cut him off when you punched him in the jaw. You had absolutely no idea what possessed you to do so; you were normally a non-confrontational person, but learning you've been forked with for months, maybe years when you count every stupid reboot, will do that to someone– make you more aggressive. It wasn't hard to do given how close he'd gotten while antagonizing you, but shirt, did it hurt like a bench.

You shook your fist out, wincing at the sting. Your knuckles would bruise for sure if given the time, but you had the feeling Michael was going to reboot you pretty soon, so that hardly mattered.

Focusing back on the demon you'd just socked across the face, you weren't too shocked to see that he'd hardly moved with the blow. His head had turned just a bit, and his glasses were slightly askew, but he definitely wasn't bruised or bleeding. For the most part, he seemed relatively unaffected.

Well, maybe 'unaffected' wasn't the right word.

Michael's expression made you wonder if he'd ever been hit before. The pure shock (and even a little bit of awe? Respect? You were probably hallucinating) on his face made you think that he probably hadn't, and it brought you some sick joy to think you might be the first to humble him like that.

You allowed yourself a victorious smirk as Michael slowly put himself back together; silent as he straightened and righted his glasses on his nose. "Has that ever happened in your hundreds of reboots?"

He regarded you in silence for long enough for your smirk to slowly melt as you were reminded that, oh, right, this is the demon in charge of literally torturing you, and maybe you should not have done that. To be fair to yourself, thoughtful decision making was never your strong suit, even when you were still alive. Even so, this was probably your worst one yet.

You refused to apologize, though; groveling would get you nowhere. Instead you lifted your chin and stared back at him as he lounged, calm as ever, head resting in one hand and legs spread– the picture of ease. Actually, regretfully, it wasn't the worst sight in the world, which was a forked up thing to think given everything about the situation you were in. But if thinking with your dick at the worst moments possible wasn't the most human thing imaginable, you didn't know what was. It's pretty much the only thing you can count on a person for.

"...No, Y/N, I can't say that anyone has ever been stupid enough to try something like that."

end of chapter one!

there currently is no chapter two, but i'm getting there. if you wanna read that when it goes up the link is here:

#the good place #the good place michael #michael #tahani al jamil #eleanor shellstrop #chidi anagonye #jason mendoza #michael x reader #michael the good place x reader

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genghisthebrain · 6 months

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wait_no? making a good place chatfic? more likely than you might think

this is for anyone who likes the good place, enjoys me and my hilarious humour, and thinks crystals would be a delectable snack

#ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #chat fic #wait_no on ao3 #the good place #chidi anagonye #eleanor shellstrop #tahani al jamil #eleanor x tahani #jason mendoza #janet the good place #michael the good place

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gardeningfordreamers · 2 years

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the good place (mostly queer) head cannons (v.2) i get bored half way through... might revise in the future but for now...

eleanor

female / bisexual+poly / she/her / bpd is a chronic nail biter, and keeps love letters from the few ex’s who ever wrote her one. her first girlfriend was when she was at ASU and they got matching lip tattoos.

chidi

trans man / straight / he/him / autistic creates those eco bricks after watching a documentary on pollution+waste, is v stealth about his transness. and only got diagnosed as autsitic in the rebooted timeline after simone recommended chidi to get an evaluation.

tahani

afab trans-neutral+unlabeled / bisexual / they/she / autistic wears sweat pants when all alone but would never admit that, gets really bad seasonal allergies. (can you tell i didnt have any hcs for tahani)

jason

male / bisexual (pansexual) / he/him watched lost as it came out and was deeply invested in shipping culture, also watched/rewatched all seasons of sytycd when in the real good place, one of the times him (as a child) and his mom were spending time together jason asked to try on his moms jewelry, and then never took off a necklace she gave him.

michael

unlabeled / gay / he/it loves the noise of crunchy leaves, and coffee cake. finds anatomy so interesting and takes multiple community college biology classes. loves keychains.

janet

unlabeled / straight / they/she/it fanny pack lover. believes in bubble gum chapstick supremacy, and has a huge keychain collection in their void. okay side rant i just love janet so much, to be able to see someone who is meant to be the perfect/ideal “object” understand she deserves just as much agency over her own body and labor is just so powerful, just like the very stark difference of her cardboard cut out traditional helper “woman” origins and their future self who takes control over her own expression and identity as a person outside of her traditional role.

shawn

male / gay+poly / he/him SOOO GAY. HE HAS THE BIGGEST CRUSH ON MICHALE, like such a big crush. he wants to deny it but after michale became the good place architect they started getting mexican food on earth afterwards the after life meetings, and they both started getting crushes, lmao.

judge gen

female / bisexual+aro / she/they i kind of headcannon her as transfemme but also not much, but she is also so much fun, her and jason would be such good friends. she definitely is an owl lady and has like that one specific owl ice pack, like the rubbermaid pink one.

derek

male / straight / he/it derek has the biggest golden retriever energy. loves to play card games. and is extremely good at writing haikus for some reason. him and mindy are one of my favorite pairings in the series.

mindy st. claire

female / bisexual (pansexual)+poly / she/her

jeff/the doorman

male (questioning?) / ace+aro / he/they / autistic

vicky the demon

unlabeled / lesbian / she/it

simone

female / bisexual / she/they

john

male / gay / he/him

brent (after improvement system)

male / (closted) bisexual+poly / he/him

trevor the demon

male / gay+poly / he/them/it

head cannons pairings

eleanor x tahani (not otp just more a silly reboot ship i wish we saw...)

michale x shawn (x trevor) (im really into trio polycules)

brent x john (after the improvement system)

(most cannon ships)

tagggs.... . .,. .

#tgp #the good place #eleanor shellstrop #chidi anagonye #tahani al jamil #jason mendoza #michael the good place #janet the good place #shawn the good place #judge gen #jeff the doorman #simone garnett #michael x shawn #headcannons #the good place headcannons #the good place hc

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sesamestreep · 1 year

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Don/Sloan, 20

20. I’ve been looking sad in all the nicest places (from this prompt list) I don’t know what this is, honestly. I wrote a whole other fill for this prompt and decided I hated it and couldn’t finish it, then wrote this instead in like half a day. I don’t know. It’s a Good Place AU, I have next to nothing for it built out besides this snippet, that’s basically it. much love and bone apple teeth or whatever…

Sloan is on her fifth straight minute of willing her legs to work and take her back to the party—her own damn party, for Christ or whoever’s sake, she’s not really sure at this point—when someone nearly trips over her. In their defense, she is sort of hiding behind a topiary in a dark corner of the lawn, so there was no way they could have seen her, but she still finds it in herself to be annoyed.

“Could you please watch where you’re going?” she exclaims.

“Uh, sorry,” the man says, fumbling with something in his hands. “Though I don’t really see how it’s my fault that you’re sitting on the ground, in the dark. You’re basically asking to be tripped over.”

Sloan’s legs work just fine then. She stands up, straight as a pin, and throws her shoulders back, getting ready for some variation of the “I’d like to speak with your manager!” conversations she had almost daily back when she was alive.

“Here’s a tip for you,” she says, instead, with as much indignation as possible, “don’t go around accusing women of ‘asking for it’.”

The man winces. “Yeah, I heard it as soon as it was out of my mouth. That was, uh, poor form.”

The easy admission of wrongdoing shouldn’t surprise her here, where she’s allegedly surrounded by the best people ever, but it still somehow does. It helps that this guy doesn’t give the appearance of backing down from fights easily, which makes it all the more impressive that he’s doing so now.

“It’s fine,” Sloan says, backing down too. “No harm done.”

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” he says, holding out his hand. “I’m Don Keefer.”

“Sloan Sabbith,” she says, accepting the handshake.

“Oh, the Sloan Sabbith,” he replies, as he puts the item he’s been shuffling between his hands—a cigarette, it turns out—between his lips. He doesn’t sound impressed. She’s not sure how he sounds, but it’s probably not good.

“I suppose so.”

“This is your house,” he points out.

“Ah, yes. That Sloan Sabbith.”

“I mean, I knew you before,” Don says, and then corrects himself, “Sorry, I knew of you before. I lived in New York, when I was alive.”

“Oh, right.”

“Your name was always in the society pages.”

Sloan shrugs, not sure if humility is the right move here. She’s not certain Don would buy it. He pulls out a lighter and moves to light his cigarette.

“I guess you didn’t see the amount of fundraising I did for the American Cancer Society,” she says, frowning.

Don laughs, but he still brings the flame to the tip of the cigarette. “Sweetheart, it’s the afterlife. Lighten up.”

“I don’t like the smell.”

“Won’t be a problem,” he says, waving the hand with the cigarette between his index and middle fingers around a little bit wildly. “Neither do I. I got that robot assistant woman, uh—”

“Jenna,” Sloan interjects, over-enunciating the name for his benefit.

Jenna, of course, materializes with a soft tone at that moment, making her jump in surprise. How long does that take to get used to?

“Hi,” she says, brightly. “How can I help?”

Don looks at Sloan expectantly, and her face heats with embarrassment and irritation. She pointedly looks away, as if she hadn’t accidentally summoned the neighborhood’s virtual assistant and made a fool of herself.

“We’re good, Jenna. Thank you,” Don finally says, all charm, when it’s clear Sloan isn’t going to be helpful.

“You bet!” There’s another soft tone, slightly different, as she disappears.

“That is going to take some getting used to,” Don says, as if they’re buddies or something.

“You’ve never had an assistant before?” Sloan sniffs, aware that it’s a deeply snobby thing to say and not very concerned about it.

“Not like her.”

She whips her head around to glare at him. “Don’t be gross!”

“I meant because she’s literally omniscient,” he says, looking bored of her now. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Good, because I’d hate to feel any worse for your soulmate than I already do.” Just as she’s winding up to really lay into him, she suddenly smells something strange. It smells like salt water and…something else. Something she can’t put her finger on. She steps closer to Don and inhales. “Do you—what is that?”

“I told you the smoke wouldn’t bother you,” he says, holding the cigarette aloft proudly. “When I asked Jenna for cigarettes earlier, I was worried the neighborhood would have, like, a ‘no smoking’ policy, kind of like the ‘no swearing’ thing? But she told me that, since we’re in The Good Place, the smoke wouldn’t irritate anyone, and when they smelled it, it would remind them of their most cherished childhood memory, if you can believe that.”

Sloan wouldn’t have two minutes ago but now, she’s certain she’s smelling the boardwalk in Santa Monica that she went to constantly with her family when she was young. She hasn’t been back in years, and she supposes now she never will. Suddenly, she feels tears welling in her eyes.

“Thank goodness the tobacco industry didn’t have Jenna on their side,” she says, stepping back and trying to pull herself together.

“True. Though I imagine those guys would have trouble getting into The Good Place anyway.”

“That’s a…good point.”

“So, what does the magic cigarette smoke smell like to you?” Don asks, and then shakes his head. “There’s a question I never anticipated asking anyone. Not sober, at least.”

Sloan laughs, despite herself. “It, uh, smells like the Santa Monica pier. I grew up in the Bay Area, but my cousins lived in SoCal, and we’d visit them on school breaks or vacations whenever we could. The pier was always my favorite place to go.”

When she looks up again, she finds Don smiling at her in an unguarded way she finds…unsettling. Not because it’s creepy, but because it’s familiar. She doesn’t know what that means, but she knows it’s probably a sign of trouble.

“What about you?”

“Well,” Don laughs, looking down at his shoes, “that’s sort of a funny story. You see, I gave up smoking when I was in college, after my grandad died of lung cancer. I’d like to tell you it was because I was being smart and healthy, but the truth is, the smell of the smoke reminded me too much of him. I spent a lot of my childhood with him, because both of my parents worked, so he watched me for them. He was my favorite person, and my reference point for everything, and my moral compass. After he died, it felt like I lost a piece of myself.”

Don pauses, and then shakes his head. “I don’t know why I told you all that. The important part of that story is that he, uh, smoked like a chimney and his whole house reeked of tobacco all the time. His clothes smelled like it, his car smelled like it, everything.”

“Oh, no,” Sloan says, when the penny drops for her.

“Yeah, see? You got there before me,” he says, smiling sadly. “These forking magical cigarettes, they smell like his house, his clothes, his car.”

“It just smells like tobacco to you,” she supplies, and Don nods. “And the smell reminds you of him. And it makes you sad, which is why you stopped smoking in the first place.”

“It’s like some kind of Sisyphean torture loophole,” Don says, still smoking. “You can’t make this shirt up.”

“I mean, they could,” she says, thinking of her first meeting with Will, where he had the file for her entire life, down to the most minor of details. “They’d know about you and your grandpa from your file, right? And you said that Jenna’s omniscient, so she’d know too. That’s…weird, right?”

Sloan glances over at him to find Don staring at her, not smiling this time, but with an expression of barely suppressed horror. She can tell just from the look on his face that he’s running through everything that’s happened since he got to the neighborhood in his mind and looking for more strange occurrences like that.

“Have we,” he asks, hesitantly, “met before?”

“I don’t think so,” Sloan says, but not with as much certainty as she would have a few moments ago. “You mean, when we were alive?”

“Yeah,” Don says. “I guess that’s what I mean. You just feel familiar, in some way.”

“You did say you knew my name from the press.”

“I know, but I don’t mean familiar like that. I mean, familiar like I’ve known you for a long time.”

“We just met,” she says, as firmly as she can manage, though it feels like she’s trying to convince herself it’s true too.

“So, it’s just me?” he asks, and it’s not accusatory so much as disappointed.

Sloan feels so utterly thrown by this, she can hardly cope. It doesn’t help that in backing away from him earlier, she didn’t get nearly far enough away. She can still smell the Santa Monica pier—the sunshine and the sea air and the food stalls—but she can also smell what she suspects is Don’s cologne or soap or maybe just him—this clean, warm boyish smell—and now those two things are going to swirl together in her memory forever, and she’s going to be confused why she thinks of summer vacations whenever she’s near him. Not that she will be again anytime soon, she hopes. This has been too much for her.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” she says, still too close to him and not backing away.

Don laughs, softly, and she thinks she can smell champagne on his breath. There was plenty at the party, she remembers, even though it feels like an age ago now. He doesn’t seem drunk, though.

“I don’t know what I want from you either,” he says, watching her closely. He’s not that much taller than her, so it’s pretty easy to gaze deeply into his eyes, unfortunately, and that’s what she ends up doing.

The cigarette falls from between his fingers, and lands harmlessly, already extinguished, on the grass beneath their feet. It vanishes a second later, and a daisy sprouts in its place, which figures. This place is too good to be true, she thinks, and then catches herself. Is it? Has she been thinking that all along?

She looks back up at Don to find his gaze still riveted on her face. “Something’s wrong,” she whispers.

He steps closer to her. “What is it?”

“I don’t know, but something is definitely wrong here,” she says, and it really sounds hysterical but it’s the truth. She can feel it. “Something is not right.”

“Maybe we’re just cynics,” Don offers, with a halfhearted smile.

“Maybe.” Why hasn’t she stepped away from him yet?

“We should…get back to the party.”

“My party,” Sloan says, nodding. “Yes. We should.”

“Our partners will both be looking for us, I’m sure.”

“Right. Yes.”

Neither of them moves, not even a fraction of an inch. Sloan’s hands, seemingly of their own accord, settle on the button placket of Don’s crisp white shirt. She runs a fingertip over a button. His hands come around to rest on her elbows, holding her in place.

“You do feel familiar to me,” she says, in the direction of the button, because she’s not brave enough to say it to his face. “I don’t know why. I don’t understand…how that’s possible.”

“Neither do I, but I’m not—it doesn’t feel like a bad thing, does it?”

Sloan shakes her head, and risks lifting her gaze to his again. He’s still watching her cautiously. She feels herself lean in, and then she feels him reciprocate. They’re only a breath away from kissing when they pause, and whether it’s hesitation or savoring the moment, she’s not sure. She’s watching his face for any sign of second thoughts and finds none, which gives her the courage to lean in that last bit, to close the distance between them.

“Don,” a voice calls in the distance. “Don, are you out here?”

They break apart instantly, putting a laughable amount of distance between them as quickly as possible, as Don curses under his breath. Or tries to, at least, despite the neighborhood’s swear filter.

“Don!” the voice shouts, closer now.

“Over here,” he calls back after a second.

“Where?”

“Here! Follow the….Marco!”

“Polo!”

This, thankfully, only continues for a few moments before a petite, adorable blonde woman rounds the corner. She’s wearing a sensible cocktail dress and has a drink in one hand.

“There you are!” she says. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“I was just getting to know our host better,” Don says, indicating Sloan with a wave of his arm in her direction.

The woman’s gaze swivels to Sloan and her expression opens up even more. “Oh my god, Sloan Sabbith, it’s so nice to meet you! You have such a nice place here!”

“Thank you,” Sloan demurs. She’s not sure how to behave around someone whose soulmate she almost just kissed. She’s not even sure there is protocol for that scenario. It’s probably just something you’re not supposed to do.

“I’m Maggie, by the way,” she says, eagerly. “I should have started with that.”

“Maggie was a professor of ethics and moral philosophy,” Don adds, draping an arm casually around her shoulders as she nestles into his side.

“Wow,” Sloan says. She wants to punch him so much.

“Oh, don’t be impressed,” Maggie says, humbly. “I’ve spent all night talking to people who are way more inspiring than me. And, obviously, my soulmate is this guy, so…”

Don makes a pained face at Maggie’s compliment, which Sloan finds both satisfying and odd. “What’s so impressive about Don?” she asks, coolly, and doesn’t miss the way his gaze flicks over to her sarcastically.

“Oh, he refuses to brag about it, but he was this super important human rights lawyer,” Maggie replies, putting a hand on his chest proudly. “I mean, if there was a cause you cared about, I’m sure he did some legal work to advance it when he was alive!”

“Sloan is a noted humanitarian and philanthropist, Maggie,” Don objects. “I doubt she’d be impressed by my work.”

“Right, sorry,” Maggie says, looking chagrined. “You’re, like, famous!”

“I guess so.”

“No wonder you ended up with Jim Harper as a soulmate! You must feel so lucky!”

“Yes, I certainly do,” Sloan says, with false cheer. She likes Jim. He’s cool. But she only just met him today. She doesn’t know where Don and Maggie get off being so coupled up and settled down already. It’s annoying.

“You guys didn’t know each other when you were alive, did you?”

“No, it’s weird. We somehow never crossed paths.”

“I loved his music when I was alive,” Maggie gushes. “I got a chance to talk to him at the party and he seems really nice!”

“He is,” Sloan insists for what feels like the tenth time. “Actually, speaking of Jim, I should probably get back to the party and, well, make sure he’s doing okay and the guests have everything they need.”

Maggie nods, enthusiastically. “Of course! It was so nice to meet you!”

“Yes,” Don says. “Very nice.”

Sloan has to concentrate very hard not to scowl at him, so she focuses most of her attention on Maggie, who she despises for totally different and completely undeserved reasons. “You too! Always a delight to meet one’s neighbors.”

“Oh, right! You should stop by our place sometime,” Maggie says. “It’s not as grand or as big as your place, obviously—”

“Nothing in the neighborhood is, as a matter of fact,” Don interjects, pointedly. Sloan’s eyes water from the effort of not glaring at him.

Maggie, meanwhile, thumps him lightly on the chest. “Don,” she says, playfully offended. Or maybe not playfully. It’s hard to tell with Maggie. Her smile is just a little too wide and bright to take at face value.

“Don’t listen to him,” she continues. “Our house is the one with the yellow door and the round window at the front, it’s just—”

“Two doors down, of course,” Sloan says graciously. “I did wonder who lived in such a cutesy little cottage and now I know!”

Maggie’s smile falters a bit, and she adopts a more serious expression. “Yes, well, I like it a lot, so…”

“I will be sure to stop by sometime,” Sloan says, trying to be more soothing. She’s a bitch, not a monster, after all.

“We’d love that,” Maggie replies. “Right, Don?”

“Absolutely,” he answers, with a thin smile in Maggie’s direction. To Sloan, he adds, with a significant look, “Don’t be a stranger!”

Sloan nods in acknowledgement and then gets out of there as quickly as possible. She has a feeling, though, that she won’t have much of a choice in terms of Don and Maggie’s invitation. For whatever reason, she suspects she might be stuck with them now.

#the newsroom #don keefer #sloan sabbith #don x sloan #they don’t have like a ship name do they??#whatever #au #the good place au #taylor swift song prompts #prompt fill #homelywenchsociety #firstelvens #Ok so I lied because my brain wouldn’t let me write any of it without some more worldbuilding #so Don is like a mix of Eleanor and John the gossip columnist #(Because he has to be a journalist it’s the only thing that makes sense)#sloan is mostly Tahani but with a little Mindy St. Clair mixed in #(She made her money on Wall Street then felt bad and started a charity but she did it for attention or to seem good etc etc)#Maggie is Chidi because she loved that ethics guy played by Jimmi Simpson and it felt right #maybe with a little Simone thrown In for good measure #Jim is Jason/Jianyu except instead of being a monk he’s like a rock star who got too into his Beatles transcendentalist phase #and became an annoying preachy cultural appropriator who thought he made the world a better place with his music #so he’s like Jason mixed with Kamilah??? Idk #will runs the neighborhood he’s Michael #Charlie is Shawn #Jenna the intern is Janet #And Mac is like Vicky #actually mac could be Michael and will could be vicky #YOU SEE?? It gets so complicated the more I zoom out #anyway I’m not writing it!!!!!!!! I’m NOT #oh and Leona is The Judge

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orbitalsockets · 2 years

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Your Favourite ‘The Good Place’ Character(s) Based On Your Most Prominent Mental Illness/Neurodivergency (With No Context)

Anxiety/Panic Disorder: Chidi

Bipolar Disorder: Eleanor

Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria: Tahani

Substance Abuse: Jason

Depression: Michael

Depersonalization Disorder: Janet

BPD: Kamilah

Autism: The Good Place Committee/Workers

C-PTSD: The Bad Place Committee/Workers

ADHD: Jason and Eleanor as a unit

OCD: Simone

#the good place #the good place eleanor #chidi anagonye #eleanor shellstrop #tahani al jamil #jason mendoza #michael the good place #netflix #tgp #eleanor x chidi #eleanor x tahani #janet the good place #memes #dank memes #daily memes #memes daily #this was surprisingly hard to come up with and even harder to find relevant hashtags #i stand by all of my statements though

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naoko-world · 1 year

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The good place final review

Last Saturday the wonderful @thecrazyashley-blog casually mentioned The good place in my DMs, telling me I may definitely love it, and she was so right! I literally couldn't stop, I started to check it out a bit on Saturday, started season 2 on Sunday, and finished it today Thursday (at least at the moment I’m writing that)!

Synopsis:

After her death, Eleanor is sent to the good place...But by mistake. And it's up to Chidi, the only one who knows it, to save her from being sent to the bad place.

Of course, a lot of spoilers incoming!

Overturning the cliches:

I love how I expected a lot of things that never were revealed true. Like I feel I've often been taken for an idiot! And the first revelation to make me feel that way is the Taiwanese monk being actually Jason Mendoza, a man from Jacksonville, FL, of Philippines origin who did robberies on earth with his dad and his best friend.

Another one of them is the judge actually being not so sensible and all-knowing and more like a stubborn, hard to convince, series addict.

Also how you expect things like the characters having their life improved when they're send back to earth to actually become way worse. Or worse: Trevor who doesn't stay long in the end when you expected him to be a pain in the ass for many episodes.

And, of course, the mass of revelations like how they're actually all in the bad place, or how the bad place didn't do anything bad that would have sent everyone to the bad place.

I feel like an idiot but I love it lol!

The characters:

Now I'll be talking about the characters!

I love how they're all so different and somehow so perfect for each other to improve.

As some examples: Chidi needed Jason to learn how to be more spontaneous, Tahani needed Eleanor to become more humble, and Eleanor needed Tahani to trust people more.

My favorite character is Tahani because she's like an incredible woman who was doing good deeds on earth like donating to charity, but whose only motivation was to be more popular than her sister Kamila. What I find the most meaningful regarding her problem is that her jealousy literally killed her! She was so driven by it that she pulled a statue of Kamila toward her, which crushed her to death in front of a whole crowd.

But then, she realized what the real problem was: the pressure her parents put on both of them, and Kamila was also suffering from it!

And the four main human characters are living about the same thing through the 4 seasons for their own problems.

I love Michael & Janet’s too, how they are slowly becoming more human, literally for Michael.

The main villain is pretty neat too, he has a kind of evil in him he can't even control but makes him so interesting.

The philosophy in the series:

The heart of the series is the philosophy. To save Eleanor, then Jason, then Tahani, then Michael, then a bit everyone, Chidi is using philosophy as a way to make you think about the concepts of good and bad.

Like it could have been made in a boring way, so we would feel we're in a classroom instead of watching a comedic series, but it actually blends perfectly with the tone of the series! It's so fun to watch Chidi move before his board and explain the concept to his students.

I love too how it shows how useful, but also how complicated it can be!

I'll give the trolley problem as an example! First, the series talks about the base: a group of people on a railroad, a single one on another. Then, the single person is someone we know. Then, it's about who to save between patients in an hospital, to end with how to tell the family they're dead and why. It's not that obvious to understand the good choices to make to be a good person in these cases.

Life is complicated:

But they're even more complicated nowadays, and we start to understand it from season 3, when the four humans are sent back to earth to prove they could have changed there too.

But a lot of disappointment ensue. When acting for good causes, Eleanor gets in exchange a miserable life, Chidi learns that eating a muffin he loves will participate in children's work and it makes him hesitate on everything again, Tahani is living for fame again while she tried to live a more humble life, and Jason lost too many dances competitions not to finally give up on earning an honest life.

That aspect though is perfectly summarized when talking to the judge of the afterlife afterwards: if you want to buy a tomato it's very complicated not to buy a tomato that'll cost you points because of some consequences it'll provoke, even with the access to Internet. The judge tried, and when looking for a tomato exactly like she wanted she found porn.

Even Dough Forcett! That man found out about the reality of the afterlife and got so obsessed by it he lived a miserable life! Even he will not be able to reach the good place!

And that's true! Why the afterlife will need to change, and I love how they changed it! In the bad place...And in the good place too. It was a surprise to discover what actually happens there, but actually pretty logical.

The end:

Then you have the end of the series: how do we resolve these issues?

Season 4 is basically about these questions, and the answers are so satisfying! Like eating chocolate after a bad day (or after the end of a series that made you cry...)! I love too how they convince the judge, but then the judge wants to reboot humanity so they must find another solution very quickly.

Then they go the The good place and there people basically became zombies because they just live their eternal life because they don't have any other choice.

But what is even more satisfying is each main character's fate! I won't spoil them there just in case but it was so perfect for them, especially Tahani! I mean, she was made for this fate!

Also I think Chidi and Eleanor's is what made me cry too...Though I'm so happy they ended up as a happy couple! They're the best couple I love them.

If I had to talk about every aspect of that series that review would go way too long! So I'll end it there, and with a promise to myself I'll watch it again because it's totally worth it!

#the good place #the good place review #series review #chidi anagonye #eleanor shellstrop #jason mendoza #tahani al jamil #I love tahani #michael the good place #janet the good place #netflix series #netflix #chidi x eleanor #Sorry I HAD to tag that #I LOVE THEM #BEST COUPLE

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neverfeverdream · 1 year

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THE FORESHADOWING IN S4E9 OF THE GOOD PLACE. THE FORESHADOWING IN EVERY EPISODE. THE.

FORE

SHADOW

ING

IN THE GOOD PLACE.

#the good place #team cockroach #eleanor x chidi #chidi anagonye #eleanor shellstrop #jason mendoza #tahani al jamil #foreshadowing

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sissytobitch10seconds · 1 year

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The Good Life

Fandom: The Good Place Summary: Her life may not be complete and it may not have been what she wanted it to be when she was young, but it's hers and she loves it. Warnings: Pregnancy, polyamory, and mentions of childhood neglect Word Count: 973 Ship(s): Tahani Al-Jamil/Chidi Anagonye/Jianyu Li | Jason Mendoza/Eleanor Shellstrop

Archive link!

A/N: I've had this idea rattling around in my head for a long time. I'm not very happy with how the result turned out since I didn't have a concrete plan when I went into this, but I'm glad that it is now out of my head. I hope that you all enjoy anyway, haha! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

Tahani could barely make out the doorbell over the din in her home. Most of it was coming from the rather loud debate that Jason and Eleanor were having over the best snack food. Jason was claiming that it was, of course, jalapeno poppers, while Eleanor was insisting that it was something called a ‘churro dog’. The thought of either one of those foods was making her feel quite ill, so she was trying her best to ignore it and focus on the mock lecture that Chidi was giving in his office. He was speaking to himself so that he could make sure it was good enough to give to his students the next day, but it was pleasant to listen to his voice.

As soon as she heard the doorbell, she began the rather arduous process of pushing herself off of the couch that she had been reclining on. She made her way to the door, smiling softly when she heard the slightly lull in her wife and husband’s argument so that they could make sure she was alright. She opened the door and then felt all of the happy chemicals and pleasant feelings come to a screeching halt.

“Kamila?”

“I didn’t think that it was true. That I would find you here,” her sister replied as she looked her over.

That kind of scrutinizing gaze would have broken her down had it happened even a year prior, but now she just ignored it. She wrapped her arms around the other woman in a brief hug before she pulled Kamila into her home. “I didn’t think that I would ever see you in this part of the world. Aren’t you meant to be touring around parts of Egypt while playing that music you write?”

“I was, but then Mother and Father got worried when you stopped returning back to the family mansion like you usually do,” Kamila said. She seemed to be a little bit startled by the fact that her sister had just hugged her, but Tahani wasn’t paying any mind to that.

She shut the door behind the other woman and then quickly brought Kamila through the house so that they were standing in the kitchen, where she then began to bustle around in her search for any tea bags that Chidi had left in their cupboards. “I know that I wasn’t returning home as often as I used to, but a lot has changed in the last couple of months. Years, even.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Kamila tilted her head down so that she was pointedly looking at the rounded bump that made up Tahani’s stomach.

The taller of the two sisters flushed and then leaned against the counter. “Yes, that’s the biggest change. I’m due in about three months, that’s why I look so big. My OB said that I’ve ‘popped’,” she giggled affectionately at the term. The pregnancy had been a big surprise, but a welcome one. It was the main reason that she was wearing a pair of overalls instead of her usual fancy summer dresses and no shoes because her feet had gotten far too swollen to fit in heels. It had also taken her only a single fall in her third month to decide that what she usually wore was too high and put her baby at risk.

“How cute,” Kamila looked rather disinterested and disgusted by the whole prospect. “What are you doing here, Tahani? This isn’t the greatness that you always promised our parents that you’d rise to.”

She let out a sigh. Her quest for tea was forgotten as she focused on what she was going to say next. “I’m not going to say that I don’t care about what they think of me anymore, because I do still care. But I value my happiness over what their opinion of me is. Do you want to know what my life is like?”

“I suppose. It might help me understand why you chose to live in middle class suburbia in Wisconsin,” she sneered.

Tahani felt herself smile as she thought about her quaint little cottage and everyone inside of it. “I met three people that had near death experiences like me when I went to Australia and they taught me that everything we were raised with just makes you miserable. I can live the way that I want without valuing how many names I know or how many brands I’m wearing. One of them works as a DJ part time, another is an environmentalist from Arizona. The one you can hear ranting in the other room, and who drank all my tea, is a professor of moral philosophy. They taught me what life is really about and how I can truly be happy. We’re all married in some way or another and we’re expecting our first baby. I don’t need what we were raised with even if I still prefer higher quality things and keep in contact with some of our wealthier friends and family members. But the point is, I’m happy here. I would love it if you could be a part of my life, but I understand if you don’t want to.”

She didn’t realize that she had started crying until the tears reached her neck. She then reached up and began to wipe them away as daintily as she could.

Kamila was frozen to the spot as she tried to take in everything that she had just been told. “Do you think that I could come back later and tell you?” she asked.

Tahani smiled, her sadness at the mere idea of her sister not wanting to be a part of her life forgotten. “Of course. You know where I live and I’m always home now that the baby is getting bigger. Feel free to come visit anytime.

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