out_there (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
out_there) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
picfor10002018-01-31 11:34 am
out_there) wrote in picfor10002018-01-31 11:34 am
Entry tags:
A Really Good Slushie (The Good Place)
Title: A Really Good Slushie
Author: out_there
Fandom: The Good Place
Spoilers: Set mid-s1. No spoilers for S2.
Pairing: Eleanor/Tahani
Rating: G
Summary: Eleanor wonders why good people all love frozen yogurt, but she's the only one missing Seven-Elevens. Maybe they've never had a really good slushie.
Picture prompt: here
Link to fic: On AO3
Eleanor's starting to get the hang of this. This whole being a good person thing. Or at least looking like a good person who belongs here with all the other good people.
It's the little things. Like when James and Lowanna invite everyone to a barbeque, it's remembering to ask, “Oh, what can I bring?” with the kind of smile that promised eighty-year-olds that iron tablets would absolutely help arthritis and heart palpitations.
It's all about keeping that smile and not saying anything when they show her through the world's kitschiest ‘70s kitchen, all burnt orange and avocado green. And not complaining when Michael volunteers her to “help” -- meaning she's stuck in the kitchen peeling potatoes instead of standing outside in the sunshine, drinking with everyone else.
Most of being a good person is being a sucker: not saying what you think, not complaining when you get stuck with the lousy jobs, and pretending that other people are interesting. They're not. They might be better than her -- smarter and kinder, funnier and richer -- but they're all dull.
Even Chidi, although he's kind of hot in a weird nerd-teacher way.
Eleanor's thinking about that -- and how well Chidi could fit into one of those so-bad-it’s-good teacher porn videos, as long as nobody let him talk or make a decision -- when the tall giraffe from last week walks in. What was her name? Something that made Eleanor think of hummus and falafels.
Tahini -- maybe? -- is wearing a yellow floral dress with a skirt that flips out like an oversized Barbie, and a ridiculous yellow wide-brimmed hat to match. If Eleanor wore that, she'd look five years old. But on… Tahani! That was it. On Tahani, it looks glamorous, all long legs and dark hair and impossible curves like some ‘90s supermodel.
“Eleanor!” Tahani exclaims in that snooty British voice, sounding like she's both surprised and thrilled to find Eleanor up to her elbows in potato peels. “How lovely to see you. Are you enjoying yourself?”
Eleanor does not flip her off. Or call her a forking idiot for not noticing the potatoes. No, she puts on her good person smile (her “Officer, I absolutely looked both ways before I reversed, I don't know where that stroller came from” smile) and says, “I'm having a great time. You?”
“Splendid. It's so nice to enjoy such a low-key affair,” Tahani says, sweetly condescending. “Really relax and let one's hair down.”
“I don't think I've ever seen you with your hair up,” Eleanor says before she can think better of it. It's not outright rude, but it lacks the smarmy butt-kissing that seems to be part of passing as good.
“No, probably not. It's the proportions. Tends to make my neck--” Tahani blinks, mouth caught in a surprised frown for a moment. Then she plasters on a smile and says, “I should go back out before everyone wonders where the snacks are.”
Watching Tahani glide away on impossible heels -- like you need heels when you’re that tall -- Eleanor wonders if she's not the only one forcing a good person smile and trying to blend in.
***
By the time Eleanor finishes with the potatoes, there's only one steak left and it's burnt black. Eleanor eyes up the vegetarian patties -- squashed vegetables pretending to be meat, no thanks -- and takes the charcoaled steak.
It's the same consistency as beef jerky, which makes her think of slushies and Little Debbie donuts, and wonder why good people all love frozen yogurt, but she's the only one missing Seven-Elevens.
Maybe they've never had a really good slushie.
***
“Have you ever had a slushie?” Eleanor asks, waving her champagne glass for emphasis. She's drowning her sorrows: no decently cooked red meat and then she found out she'd missed the shrimp buffet. Stupid potatoes.
Jianyu gave her a solemn head tilt when she asked. Chidi said he meant to, but the choice of cup size and flavors had been too much. (Such a nerd.) Tahani purses her red lips and asks, “Do frozen daiquiris count? Leonardo DiCaprio made me frozen daiquiris on his yacht, although he did use a teensy bit too much lime.”
It takes Eleanor a moment to realize Tahani is serious. “No, that doesn't count.”
“Then no, I haven't. Why do you ask?”
“I miss them.” Eleanor huffs out a sigh. “Isn't there anything you miss?”
“Well...” The way Tahani furtively scans the crowd is embarrassingly adorable. “Jianyu is a wonderful person, truly inspiring, but I do miss... dating.”
Huh, Eleanor thinks. Good to know she's not the only person not getting any from her soulmate. Eleanor has a few impressive skills: she's a great liar, rules at beer pong, and has a great strike rate with the hot and horny. She flicks her hair back and gets her game on. “So, dating. How would you start it?”
“Start it?”
“If we were...” Eleanor teases the idea slowly. “Dating.”
“Oh,” Tahani says, blinking wide eyes.
Eleanor's never let shock or disbelief put her off. “Come on, hot stuff. I'm sure you know how to flirt.”
Tahani smiles, tilting her head at a coy angle. Despite the height, she somehow manages to look through her dark lashes. She doesn't bite her lip -- that would be obvious -- but she does press those perfect lips together, and Eleanor's wondering how many kisses it would take to smear that red lipstick.
“Wow,” Eleanor says. “You're good.”
“Thank you.”
“I bet that would work from the other side of a room.”
“Usually.” Tahani preens a little, smoothing a hand down the skirt of her floral dress. “In fact--”
“Want to go make out somewhere?” Eleanor interrupts before Tahani can start naming celebrities.
Tahani blinks in surprise. “Does that approach work?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“Really?”
“Nine times out of ten.” Eleanor thinks for a moment. “Maybe eight.”
Tahani leans forward to take Eleanor's hand between hers -- long fingers, Eleanor notices appreciatively -- and says warmly, “Then I wouldn’t want to ruin your established success rate.”
Author: out_there
Fandom: The Good Place
Spoilers: Set mid-s1. No spoilers for S2.
Pairing: Eleanor/Tahani
Rating: G
Summary: Eleanor wonders why good people all love frozen yogurt, but she's the only one missing Seven-Elevens. Maybe they've never had a really good slushie.
Picture prompt: here
Link to fic: On AO3
Eleanor's starting to get the hang of this. This whole being a good person thing. Or at least looking like a good person who belongs here with all the other good people.
It's the little things. Like when James and Lowanna invite everyone to a barbeque, it's remembering to ask, “Oh, what can I bring?” with the kind of smile that promised eighty-year-olds that iron tablets would absolutely help arthritis and heart palpitations.
It's all about keeping that smile and not saying anything when they show her through the world's kitschiest ‘70s kitchen, all burnt orange and avocado green. And not complaining when Michael volunteers her to “help” -- meaning she's stuck in the kitchen peeling potatoes instead of standing outside in the sunshine, drinking with everyone else.
Most of being a good person is being a sucker: not saying what you think, not complaining when you get stuck with the lousy jobs, and pretending that other people are interesting. They're not. They might be better than her -- smarter and kinder, funnier and richer -- but they're all dull.
Even Chidi, although he's kind of hot in a weird nerd-teacher way.
Eleanor's thinking about that -- and how well Chidi could fit into one of those so-bad-it’s-good teacher porn videos, as long as nobody let him talk or make a decision -- when the tall giraffe from last week walks in. What was her name? Something that made Eleanor think of hummus and falafels.
Tahini -- maybe? -- is wearing a yellow floral dress with a skirt that flips out like an oversized Barbie, and a ridiculous yellow wide-brimmed hat to match. If Eleanor wore that, she'd look five years old. But on… Tahani! That was it. On Tahani, it looks glamorous, all long legs and dark hair and impossible curves like some ‘90s supermodel.
“Eleanor!” Tahani exclaims in that snooty British voice, sounding like she's both surprised and thrilled to find Eleanor up to her elbows in potato peels. “How lovely to see you. Are you enjoying yourself?”
Eleanor does not flip her off. Or call her a forking idiot for not noticing the potatoes. No, she puts on her good person smile (her “Officer, I absolutely looked both ways before I reversed, I don't know where that stroller came from” smile) and says, “I'm having a great time. You?”
“Splendid. It's so nice to enjoy such a low-key affair,” Tahani says, sweetly condescending. “Really relax and let one's hair down.”
“I don't think I've ever seen you with your hair up,” Eleanor says before she can think better of it. It's not outright rude, but it lacks the smarmy butt-kissing that seems to be part of passing as good.
“No, probably not. It's the proportions. Tends to make my neck--” Tahani blinks, mouth caught in a surprised frown for a moment. Then she plasters on a smile and says, “I should go back out before everyone wonders where the snacks are.”
Watching Tahani glide away on impossible heels -- like you need heels when you’re that tall -- Eleanor wonders if she's not the only one forcing a good person smile and trying to blend in.
***
By the time Eleanor finishes with the potatoes, there's only one steak left and it's burnt black. Eleanor eyes up the vegetarian patties -- squashed vegetables pretending to be meat, no thanks -- and takes the charcoaled steak.
It's the same consistency as beef jerky, which makes her think of slushies and Little Debbie donuts, and wonder why good people all love frozen yogurt, but she's the only one missing Seven-Elevens.
Maybe they've never had a really good slushie.
***
“Have you ever had a slushie?” Eleanor asks, waving her champagne glass for emphasis. She's drowning her sorrows: no decently cooked red meat and then she found out she'd missed the shrimp buffet. Stupid potatoes.
Jianyu gave her a solemn head tilt when she asked. Chidi said he meant to, but the choice of cup size and flavors had been too much. (Such a nerd.) Tahani purses her red lips and asks, “Do frozen daiquiris count? Leonardo DiCaprio made me frozen daiquiris on his yacht, although he did use a teensy bit too much lime.”
It takes Eleanor a moment to realize Tahani is serious. “No, that doesn't count.”
“Then no, I haven't. Why do you ask?”
“I miss them.” Eleanor huffs out a sigh. “Isn't there anything you miss?”
“Well...” The way Tahani furtively scans the crowd is embarrassingly adorable. “Jianyu is a wonderful person, truly inspiring, but I do miss... dating.”
Huh, Eleanor thinks. Good to know she's not the only person not getting any from her soulmate. Eleanor has a few impressive skills: she's a great liar, rules at beer pong, and has a great strike rate with the hot and horny. She flicks her hair back and gets her game on. “So, dating. How would you start it?”
“Start it?”
“If we were...” Eleanor teases the idea slowly. “Dating.”
“Oh,” Tahani says, blinking wide eyes.
Eleanor's never let shock or disbelief put her off. “Come on, hot stuff. I'm sure you know how to flirt.”
Tahani smiles, tilting her head at a coy angle. Despite the height, she somehow manages to look through her dark lashes. She doesn't bite her lip -- that would be obvious -- but she does press those perfect lips together, and Eleanor's wondering how many kisses it would take to smear that red lipstick.
“Wow,” Eleanor says. “You're good.”
“Thank you.”
“I bet that would work from the other side of a room.”
“Usually.” Tahani preens a little, smoothing a hand down the skirt of her floral dress. “In fact--”
“Want to go make out somewhere?” Eleanor interrupts before Tahani can start naming celebrities.
Tahani blinks in surprise. “Does that approach work?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“Really?”
“Nine times out of ten.” Eleanor thinks for a moment. “Maybe eight.”
Tahani leans forward to take Eleanor's hand between hers -- long fingers, Eleanor notices appreciatively -- and says warmly, “Then I wouldn’t want to ruin your established success rate.”