Reminder that Tahini and Eleanor both were raised by neglectful and hurtful parents growing up, so Michael was probably the closest thing they had to a warm, encouraging father figure who believed in them. Except it was eventually revealed to them that he was a sadist who took pleasure in torturing them, and all that love and encouragement was just a lie.
My biggest issue with the good place is that idk if I ship Eleanor with the tall east?Asian goddess or the the v.geeky-not your usual gorgeous at first glance- African prince. Or if I ship the other two together
Like what a dilemma to have right? Is this the Fandom that won’t have ship wars? Because it’s actually cannon she loves them both and they both love her and they both love each other. Like..
1. I Told You I Was Mean - Elle King / 2. Kiss with a Fist - Florence + The Machine / 3. Bad Girls - MIA / 4. Last Damn Night - Elle King / 5. Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked - Cage the Elephant / 6. I’m So Sorry - Imagine Dragons / 7. I of the Storm - Of Monsters and Men / 8. Bones - MS MR / 9. Good Girls - Elle King / 10. Breath of Life - Florence + The Machine / 11. Bad Reputation - Joan Jett / 12. Dog Days are Over - Florence + The Machine / 13. Ain’t Gonna Drown - Elle King
I fell in love with The Good Place, and I couldn’t help making a few playlists to go along with it. This is the first - I also made a playlist for Chidi and Eleanor, and one for “The Good Place” (which I had to modify a ton after the finale). I’ll be posting them soon!
Also, Bad Reputation isn’t on Spotify, but I couldn’t leave it off the playlist - it fits Eleanor (or at least pre-Good Place Eleanor) so perfectly.
He just came waddling out of his room, pyjama pants peeking out from under his sheet, that he has firmly wrapped around himself. There are dark smudges below his red-rimmed eyes and his cheekbones stand out even sharper than usual.
When he reaches the living room he stops, gaze finding John still asleep on the sofa. He blinks twice, then looks over at the clock, back to John, back to the clock…. You get the picture.
After a few seconds of contemplation he shuffles over to him.
Still nothing. Sherlock bites his lip, before he fights one arm free from under his blanket and tabs John
on the shoulder.
A low grumble is the only acknowledgement he gets. He tries one more time, this time a bit braver, by giving John’s shoulder a good shake.
S: John, you need to get up or you are going to be late for work.
Sherlock sighs, straightens back up and trots into the kitchen, where he proceeds to lift up the lid of one of the pots. He holds it for a beat, peers over at his unmoving flatmate and lets it drop with a loud smash.
John jolts up from the sofa.
J: I’m up! I’m awake.
S: You’re going to be late.
Sherlock might have been the one with the fever, but John looks almost as bad. His hair is sticking out to all sides and he winces every time he moves his head. With an hearty yawn he drags a hand across is face, clearly still not really awake.