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fandomweekly2019-01-21 07:27 pm
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Entry tags:
[#003] DINGUS - THE GOOD PLACE
Theme Prompt: #003 - Devil's Advocate.
Title: Dingus.
Fandom: The Good Place.
Rating/Warnings: PG. / Potential spoilers for season 3, although I feel they're very subtle! You just need to know about Chidi and Eleanor.
Bonus: No.
Word Count: 818.
Summary: Eleanor wants Chidi to decide what he wants to be: postman or clown.
"Okay, dude. You gotta pick one." Eleanor points to the postman's wide brimmed hat. "Chicken," she says. She points to the red wig of curly clown hair. "Cow."
Chidi nods emphatically, pressing his palms into his abdomen like something's going to break out from there. "Okay," he says, swallowing thickly. "Okay. I can do this. Let's do this."
Rubbing her hands together, she looks at him. "Close your eyes." Once he does, she wiggles her fingers in front of his face, jumping from one foot to the next. It's obvious he can't see her. If he could, he'd be asking her why she's jumping and if she's sick again.
You jump around to show how much more shrimp you have than everyone else then proceed to be sick one time and someone just won't let it go ...
Clearing her throat, she bops him on the nose. "Alright, the moment of truth." She wraps her fingers around his elbows and spins him around, shushing him when he begins to say her name in panic. Abandoning his elbows, she watches with glee in how he almost does another full circle before stopping on clumsy feet.
"Pick one! Chicken or cow?"
Chidi opens his eyes. "Chicken!" He smiles big and wide, then he frowns, lips curving downward quickly. Oh, no. He's doing that thing where he looks at the hats and thinks way too hard. Eleanor usually finds it insufferably hot. Right now isn't the time or place for it. She's had her incredible, Oscar-worthy character development. Chidi has not.
This is her moment. This is the reason why she gets into the Good Place!
His lips are moving, his voice coming back to her. "Cow? No, no, no. Chicken. No, I want the cow. But the chicken's okay, I love chicken. But I also love cows, because I love milk."
Oh, crud.
Eleanor groans, shoving her fingers into her hair. "Oh my forking god, man! How do you screw up those basics? First word that comes to mind! No arguments!"
"I'm sorry," Chidi says, pressing his hand to his chest. "I'm sorry, Eleanor. I just ... I'm having a really hard time deciding between these two. Can I pick the dog?"
"There is no dog, dude." Crossing her arms against her chest, she pouts. "I'm having a really hard time wanting to do this."
His eyes widen, and she's pretty sure he's debating whether or not he should be panicked or pleased, and then there he is, overthinking it again, except she is. "You can't mean that."
Pressing her lips together, she nods too enthusiastically. "Yep! I'm done. I'm over this whole role-play situation you've got going on here. I don't want the clown or the postman or the postman dressed up as a clown anymore!"
Chidi groans, flattening his hand to his forehead. "I really want to give you what you want but it makes no sense to me why a clown would be a postman."
"Oh my god!" Eleanor throws her head back and looks at the white ceiling. They'd been running as fast as they can from demons and consequences, but she's convinced that this, right here, this beautiful, gorgeous, hunk of a nerd is the Bad Place.
He is the Bad Place.
A sexy Bad Place that would look really nice in a postman's hat ...
Eleanor looks at him, finding herself smirking.
"What?" Chidi takes a step back. She enjoys how afraid he is. "What? Eleanor, please — I'm sorry I screwed this up for you. I'm a —"
Eleanor steps close to him, picking up the postman hat. She places it on his head. "As much as I like sexy postmen — and I'm still convinced you have the legs for those shorts — I've realised something."
"What's that?"
"I want you," she says. "Chidi. The man incapable of making a decision about the most simplest of things. I want you."
"As a postman or a clown?"
Unimpressed, she presses her lips together. "Just you, dingus."
He smiles, big and toothily. Eleanor almost presses her fingers into the corners until she sees him opening his mouth. It's in slow motion the words begin to form, the furrow to his brow deepening until it's almost touching his chin.
Then that furrow turns sharply familiar. Something drops in her chest at the exact moment her smile plummets from her face.
Fork.
His hand presses against his chest. "Me as in the one who's frisky and into dressing up as a postman or me who stands at a board and writes about philosophers? Because those are two different mes."
Eleanor looks at him like he's grown a third head — and he has, from what Michael's shown her, and while she thought that'd be hot, it was just really not even close to being pretty — and her hand goes to her stomach. "I'm getting a bellyache."
Title: Dingus.
Fandom: The Good Place.
Rating/Warnings: PG. / Potential spoilers for season 3, although I feel they're very subtle! You just need to know about Chidi and Eleanor.
Bonus: No.
Word Count: 818.
Summary: Eleanor wants Chidi to decide what he wants to be: postman or clown.
"Okay, dude. You gotta pick one." Eleanor points to the postman's wide brimmed hat. "Chicken," she says. She points to the red wig of curly clown hair. "Cow."
Chidi nods emphatically, pressing his palms into his abdomen like something's going to break out from there. "Okay," he says, swallowing thickly. "Okay. I can do this. Let's do this."
Rubbing her hands together, she looks at him. "Close your eyes." Once he does, she wiggles her fingers in front of his face, jumping from one foot to the next. It's obvious he can't see her. If he could, he'd be asking her why she's jumping and if she's sick again.
You jump around to show how much more shrimp you have than everyone else then proceed to be sick one time and someone just won't let it go ...
Clearing her throat, she bops him on the nose. "Alright, the moment of truth." She wraps her fingers around his elbows and spins him around, shushing him when he begins to say her name in panic. Abandoning his elbows, she watches with glee in how he almost does another full circle before stopping on clumsy feet.
"Pick one! Chicken or cow?"
Chidi opens his eyes. "Chicken!" He smiles big and wide, then he frowns, lips curving downward quickly. Oh, no. He's doing that thing where he looks at the hats and thinks way too hard. Eleanor usually finds it insufferably hot. Right now isn't the time or place for it. She's had her incredible, Oscar-worthy character development. Chidi has not.
This is her moment. This is the reason why she gets into the Good Place!
His lips are moving, his voice coming back to her. "Cow? No, no, no. Chicken. No, I want the cow. But the chicken's okay, I love chicken. But I also love cows, because I love milk."
Oh, crud.
Eleanor groans, shoving her fingers into her hair. "Oh my forking god, man! How do you screw up those basics? First word that comes to mind! No arguments!"
"I'm sorry," Chidi says, pressing his hand to his chest. "I'm sorry, Eleanor. I just ... I'm having a really hard time deciding between these two. Can I pick the dog?"
"There is no dog, dude." Crossing her arms against her chest, she pouts. "I'm having a really hard time wanting to do this."
His eyes widen, and she's pretty sure he's debating whether or not he should be panicked or pleased, and then there he is, overthinking it again, except she is. "You can't mean that."
Pressing her lips together, she nods too enthusiastically. "Yep! I'm done. I'm over this whole role-play situation you've got going on here. I don't want the clown or the postman or the postman dressed up as a clown anymore!"
Chidi groans, flattening his hand to his forehead. "I really want to give you what you want but it makes no sense to me why a clown would be a postman."
"Oh my god!" Eleanor throws her head back and looks at the white ceiling. They'd been running as fast as they can from demons and consequences, but she's convinced that this, right here, this beautiful, gorgeous, hunk of a nerd is the Bad Place.
He is the Bad Place.
A sexy Bad Place that would look really nice in a postman's hat ...
Eleanor looks at him, finding herself smirking.
"What?" Chidi takes a step back. She enjoys how afraid he is. "What? Eleanor, please — I'm sorry I screwed this up for you. I'm a —"
Eleanor steps close to him, picking up the postman hat. She places it on his head. "As much as I like sexy postmen — and I'm still convinced you have the legs for those shorts — I've realised something."
"What's that?"
"I want you," she says. "Chidi. The man incapable of making a decision about the most simplest of things. I want you."
"As a postman or a clown?"
Unimpressed, she presses her lips together. "Just you, dingus."
He smiles, big and toothily. Eleanor almost presses her fingers into the corners until she sees him opening his mouth. It's in slow motion the words begin to form, the furrow to his brow deepening until it's almost touching his chin.
Then that furrow turns sharply familiar. Something drops in her chest at the exact moment her smile plummets from her face.
Fork.
His hand presses against his chest. "Me as in the one who's frisky and into dressing up as a postman or me who stands at a board and writes about philosophers? Because those are two different mes."
Eleanor looks at him like he's grown a third head — and he has, from what Michael's shown her, and while she thought that'd be hot, it was just really not even close to being pretty — and her hand goes to her stomach. "I'm getting a bellyache."