#My socially awkward blorbo

[valorianknights]

"... I've never really talked to anyone my age for this long before... Are we friends?"

The new student transfer from M.I.T. , Mary Sato, is a professional workaholic with zero social skills, but is very open to make friends.

She may be a goober, but she's my goober.

[that-was-anticlimactic]

friendly reminder that cole is canonically one of the most socially awkward characters in ninjago <3

[daemon-in-my-head]

Durge ask game, 1, 3, 9!

(also thanks for making these!!)

Imma do the black haired evil gremlin for this one so he gets more characterisation besides smut and tragedy... anyway-

1. Did your Durge interact with others of their assigned race? How did it go, did anyone notice something was off? Did they try to blend in?

Yeah, he messed with Caz before, but more in a sort of 'get your business away from my doorstep'-way rather than being buddies, which led to some fun smut tho (ik I'm shameless). But generally, he passes reasonably well as a regular elf since most of his features match, if you ignore the rather long and pointy nails and canines, that is. A somewhat erratic one, but perhaps that just comes from the longevity.

3. Bhaal can control his chosen and force the Slayer or actions upon them; did he ever force your Durge to do something against their will or would they obediently follow?

Oh no, he's Daddy's favourite princess down to a T. You need someone killed? Give him a name and 5 minutes, no questions asked. And although he was quite rebellious at times, he made up for it, two-for-one deals and such. My other Durge however... Yeah.

9. The Feast of the Moon is a bhaalian ritual where priests told the stories of particularly interesting or unique kills. Was one of your Durges deeds ever discussed, or perhaps even turned into a beloved and often retold story?

The other priests tried to establish the story about the Hall of Wonders heist firmly; Taran, however, didn't really like to share his attention with anybody else, even Gortash. After a 'slight' escalation when he got too fed up, the clergy finally dropped their attempts, which turned into a story in and of itself. But one the main character was more satisfied with (and which retelling didn't result in the need for new clergy).

[altocat]

So I’ve been wondering, how do you think the firsts would react to sephiroth having a voice crack, like dude can’t be perfect all the time, especially since a voice crack you can’t really prevent it just happens

My fics had them meeting Seph as early as fourteen while he's STILL very squeaky hehehe because I love the idea of Sephiroth starting out kind of smol and runty before shooting up like WHoA.

But yeah. For all of those low, throaty pipes, I highly doubt he can keep it like that all the time. Soo I'm just going to casually headcanon that Seph has squeaked multiple times while drunk/flustered/overly angry and everyone immediately falls apart and loses their mind over it. Cut to Seph turning extremely pink and strolling away trying to retain his dignity while also kind of just walking into a supply closet because he's not really thinking.

Genesis in particular would take pleasure in getting Sephiroth's voice to break. It's a rare experience but there's something genuinely adorable about seeing Sephiroth caught off guard for once. So he teases and flirts with Seph until THERE IT IS X'''D

[earslurper]

I have just finished watching pride and prejudice for the first time. I have concluded that mr darcy is babygirl. 

[beanerbrujx]

I'ma start writing L&DS x Reader fic cause apparently ppl can't be normal about the autistic coded bachelor and I need to fix that

[memorizingthedigitsofpi]

woman seeking blorbo: must be a female character, preferably an adult. Intelligence levels of smart to genius (either through life experience or through schooling), social skills anywhere from awkward to none. Her ability to understand her own emotions should be slim to verging on complete and utter confusion. Either that or just refusing to accept she even possesses any.

It is absolutely imperative that she have no chill. I want her thirsty, but I want that thirst to be restrained. The more clueless she is about potential love interests and their opinion of her, the better. Her fatal flaw may or may not be one of the seven deadly sins, but I want it to be something I can dig my grubby little mitts into. She has to, at least once in canon, make a completely bonkers decision that makes me question her sanity.

Bonus points if she has at least 1 best friend I can ship her with when I'm in the mood for shipping (gender doesn't matter).

[filthyguts]

p5 update !

thank u all 4 reading so far :)

prev pages

[uzurimisery]

like real people do. / kageyama tobio / nsfw

wc: 5.5k

Warnings: Kageyama is autistic, smut, fingering, reader has nipple piercings, reader works in A&R for music, reader used to live in brazil, friends to lovers, awkward sex

A/N: experimenting with more awkward/realistic smut and I love my autistic blorbo Kageyama

thank you to @peachyminx and @dervngedgf for beta reading

Kageyama never did understand the way that conversations worked, or were supposed to work. They were winding, circuitous, jumping from place to place. Unstable like a fault line, bursting from tension. The older he got the more he began to have a loose grasp on them. One so faint it slipped from his fingers if there was too much deviation. It hadn’t been easy to get to this point. It took years of failed attempts at making friends, three failed relationships, and a PR manager to get here. 

Hardly a gentle climb into social know-how. 

There was a script that worked in most situations. The gym, interviews, the grocery store, casuals and quick conversations weren’t altering his normal routine in any major way.  He liked things being the normal way.

So why the hell was he in a club? A place that went so far against the normal?

It had been Hirugami’s idea, he said that the team needed to bond more. Kageyama knew it was just a thinly veiled excuse to get drunk on the team’s card.

 It was awful— the drinking.

Conversations were bad enough while sober, small talk, social cues being a forge in language, and alcohol just made him feel worse about them. The script was thrown across the room and given to an AI generator that made something worse for him to spit back out. 

The pounding music, early 2000s rap, split his head with each drum beat feeling like it was played against his skull. He could smell everything, the foreigners easily able to be picked out from the crowd. The buttons on his navy blue dress shirt had started choking him early so it was now half undone, which he hated. Shirts were meant to have only one, or two, buttons undone depending on the level of formality of the event attending. How many were appropriate for a club? At four buttons down the curve of the underside of his pecs could be seen. 

He felt out of place, out of his element, and like a child sitting at the grown-ups' table for the first time and trying to seem mature. 

“Tobio!” Nicolas shouted at him from across the booth. “When are you going to bring Y/N around again?” 

His face scrunched up. “Why?” 

“Because if you’re not going to make a move I am!” Nicolas’ laugh was grating and sharp. “They used to live not far from my parents. A shame it took until now to meet.”

“I thought you were working things out with Maria?” Kageyama had stopped bringing you around after one too many comments on how he was in love with you and afraid to make a move. Something Nicolas harped on him for and took every opportunity to flirt with you in front of him. 

“Por que não ambos? Maria doesn’t have to know.” Kageyama hated the smirk that spread across the Brazilian's face. He knew that Nicolas was teasing him, just like he knew Nicolas wasn’t interested in you in the slightest, but it always drove him up the wall.

Wakatoshi cut in, voice steady and flat, as always. As much as Kageyama struggled with conversations he knew Wakatoshi would be right there with him. “I believe we have discussed many times that Kageyama-san has stated he is waiting for a better opportunity to discuss his feelings with Y/N-san.” 

“That’s what he said last week and three months ago and then six months ago.” Sokolov chimed into the conversation now, monkey-like as he usually was, followed by Heiwajima.

“You really should talk to them about it. Either way, you need closure to get past your emotional constipation.” 

Kageyama wanted to crawl into a hole. It was bad enough having to figure out his feelings but having them discussed in front of him made him want to jump off the side of Tokyo Tower. His feelings were complicated. Tangled and messy, blending into each other. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to separate them let alone tell you about them.

“Guuys chill, chill,” Hirugami was back with another round of drinks. “Tobio will get to it when pigs fly.” The team busted out laughing. It was humiliating no matter how many times they all poked at him about it. The only way that he’d ever get them to stop was to confess to you.

“Fuck you guys.” He was grumpy now, grumbling into his drink as he took a swig. 

The chorus all said they just wanted the best for him, that there was no way you didn’t feel the same way, that it was all in good faith, all stuff to make them feel better about teasing him. He hated being teased. 

Maybe if he just told you they’d finally leave him alone about it. You might get distant for a bit but he had faith that you could be friends again down the road. 

“If I tell them tonight will you guys leave me alone about it?”

Nicolas’ sly look managed to get worse. “You tell them tonight and I’ll give you ten thousand yen.” 

“Deal.” 

Slipping his phone out of his front pocket and pulling up your contact information had never felt so stressful. He didn’t need the money, he just wanted to be left alone about this. 

To: Y/N

Can you meet me outside Playa Del Sol? 

From: Y/N

You’re at a club?

To: Y/N

I wasn’t my idrea 

Typing was hard. The heat of all the bodies in the room made his hand slippery. 

From: Y/N

Lucky you, I’m just down the street at a gig

>You think you’d be fine to hang out for that? Local band

To: Y/N 

As long as it’s not Sean Paul 

From: Y/N

Kk see you in 10 

Kageyama was, as usual, grateful for your friendship as he excused himself from the group and headed outside to wait for you. More often than not you served as a refuge for him. One of the few people in the world who truly understood him. You didn’t question his mannerisms and need for routine. 

Once he had asked if you thought he was weird, as flawed as he felt, and you had looked at him as if the question was stupid and gave a simple ‘no.’ 

Meeting you had been a deviation from the norm in the best way. Hinata had been visiting and when they were out they bumped into you, surprised since you had been a manager at one of Hinata’s favorite jazz clubs back in Brazil. 

Kageyama got lost in the conversation as Hinata and you bounced between English, Portuguese, and Japanese when speaking. You had corrected and steered the conversation to Japanese, seeing Kageyama’s confusion. 

Your Japanese was clunky back then, and your mouth still struggling with the syllables at times. More than that, your understanding of pitch accent back then was abysmal.

But that meeting had changed his world, shifted its axis. 

Eventually, Hinata’s two-month vacation ended and he left, and Kageyama expected you to leave his orbit too. But you didn’t, you stayed around. It’s been three years and you were still around. And it's been a year since he realised he loved you. 

When the night air had started to sink in, sweat from the club finally drying, he saw you round the corner. 

Every time he saw you he thought he’d get used to how beautiful you were but he never could. You were bright as the sun, warming him, the rays of your light brushing across his skin promised growth, comfort, and shelter. 

Your braids had been half pulled back in some sort of half-updo, two ponytails at the top of your head. He has watched you do them the other week. Or he had been watching before you made him help you since he was sitting there. He didn’t know how to braid at all, but you made him learn. Told him your continued friendship was dependent on it.

He was glad you made him learn though. It gave him an excuse to be in your space, close to you, for hours on end. To touch you without worrying if the amount of contact was normal or not. 

“Tobio!” His name always sounded so perfect coming from your glossed lips. There was a twinkle in your eyes. You had done your makeup for “special events” as you had once explained it to him. Instead of a normal cat eye, you had graphic black eyeliner. He never understood why you wore makeup but he knew that it was something you enjoyed doing. 

He stumbled a bit as he moved towards you, wetting his lips with his tongue. “Y/N.” 

“Whoa careful there big guy! How much have you had to drink tonight?” 

Your arm grasped his bicep, his heart stuttering at the contact.

“Three double vodka cranberries and one beer.”

Your brows raised. “Rough time in there huh?”

“You have no idea.” Kageyama launched into recounting what had happened. 

One of his favourite things about you was how you didn’t press on topics he didn’t want to talk about. You left the conversation shift onto the gig you dragged him to and about the band. His second favourite thing about you was your willingness to unabashedly talk about your interests. Your job as an A&R at Sony meant you were always talking to him about a new band or artist. Before meeting you he wouldn’t consider himself someone who cared about music much. It was just something to help him keep pace while running. He didn’t understand why people liked it. But by watching you he started to dissect the reasons. 

It wasn’t a conscious decision, no grand realisation listening to a recommendation from you. It was a gradual shift. He started listening to more things, trying to pick out ones you’d like and he could send them to you. It was only after Wakatoshi had pointed out he was humming one day that he clocked the change went beyond just you.  

When you got to the venue, you flashed your Employee ID at security and pulled Kageyama in behind you.  It was just as dimly lit as the club but the smaller venue made it less obstructive. You had dragged him here before for a folk singer-songwriting you signed after the show. He had no idea what he was about to listen to but he knew if it was you, it’d be good. 

You led him to the middle of the standing-room area. You preferred a more central location so you could observe the artist’s dynamics and stage presence. While he would normally want to be on the outskirts, he didn’t mind being in the middle. It was crowded though so you were stood in front of him. Someone walked past and knocked you back against him. 

“Sorry!” You knew that he didn’t like physical contact much, so you created space as soon as you could. It pained him. 

“It’s okay. I don’t mind if it’s you.” When you smiled up at him, he felt like he was going to short-circuit. “Who are we discovering today?” 

Another person bumped you into him, shifting your balance and almost causing you to fall. He wrapped his arms around you to stabilise you before he even knew what he was doing.

You muttered under your breath something about expecting better from the crowd here. “You remember Hozier?” 

He knew who Hozier was. You had forced him to listen to Hozier’s entire discography one day. He liked Hozier. In another world maybe he would be as good with his words as the singer was. He could write you poems and sonnets, tell you all the little things about you that made him feel right. As much as he might try now, he couldn’t so he hoped that you wouldn’t hold it against him.

“Yes. You made me listen to his entire discography.” His throat felt dry. “I don’t believe I understood all the metaphors but he has a good voice.”

“Well, imagine Hozier if he was Japanese. And he blended traditional instruments, taiko drums and all that, with a raspy voice and great lyricism.” 

“I see.”  His gaze shifted, watching you adjust in his arms. He wondered if he should release you if he was supposed to have let go three seconds ago or held on longer. Now he was scared to move and make it weirder by moving.

“Sorry, should I let you go?” He was nervous, anxiety creeping, edging him out of the buzz he had from drinking earlier and into harsh sobriety. 

“No, it’s okay. I’m kinda cold and you’re really warm.” 

“Okay.”

The conversation between the two of you died down and Kageyama wanted to make a clone of himself and shake it around. What the hell was he doing? Under the dim lights, the first few chords starting to play, cradling you in his arms, he felt so nervous. 

The opening band started to fill the room with an instrumental. Their first two songs went by quickly enough at least. You would sway along, occasionally bobbing your head to the beat. Your eyes were focused on them as they performed. Someone might look over and think you were a long-time fan of the opening act, enraptured by their performance, but Kageyama knew you. You were appraising them, seeing if they had potential.

As their set drug on, he found himself watching you more than the band. Your brows would twitch, pulling together in the middle for a split second, every time they did something you considered to be a technical miss. You had told him that bands were like a team of volleyball players. 

When you explained it you said that singers were like aces. The powerhouse that made a team stand apart from their opponents. Drums were the setter. They set the tempo, and the flow, of the song Guitars were like hitters, driving down the point. Keys or synths were liberos, not always on the track but essential for making a good song, and basses were middle blockers, getting a perfect read and keeping the team grounded. So far it seemed like the band was winning their set. 

He liked watching you like this, seeing you the most in your element. It hurt his heart, made it tight in his chest from how your eyes darted across the stage. It felt like ripping off a bandage. Diving without a kneepad and your skin tearing on the polished floor of the court.  Like hand sanitiser in a superficial wound. Painful, but knowing that the pain was a sign of growth, of healing. 

The lighting changed, hues of pink and red, as the frontman started talking about their next and final song. He was telling the crowd to grab their lovers, pull them close, and sway along with the music. Kageyama nearly choked when you turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“Well hello lover.” you giggle at the last word, joking about your relationship. While didn’t like the joking nature of it, he wanted it to be real, he liked you calling him it. Your fingernails scratched at the nape of his neck, tangling in the hairs there.

He had had too much to drink and feeling your chest against his own was making the blood rush from his head and straight to his groin. He felt like a teenage boy, unable to keep himself from growing hard. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he swore he could feel your nipples. 

His breath hitched as he went to respond, low and raspy in your ear. “Hello.” Kageyama wanted to say something better, more suave and flirtatious, wishing for a second that he could embody the same way with women Nicolas had. 

“How much did you have to drink?” 

“Not enough.” His cheeks were flush, he needed something in this moment. To pull you closer against himself or to push you away so you didn’t catch on to his growing hard-on. 

Your heartbeat against his own in the confined space, slower than his rapid one. The music drowned out, turning to background sounds as he stared into your eyes. Eye contact was normally so forced for him, constantly having to remind himself to make it. It felt so much more intense with you like you could see through him. He loved your eye colour and the way the corners of your eyes crinkled when you smiled. 

Your lips curled up into a smile as you gazed at him, coated in a shimmery gloss that smelt like vanilla. Your tongue poked out the wet your lips, something you always did when you needed to reapply the lip gloss. He wanted to know what it felt like against his own. If it was as sticky as it looked. If it’d pull into fine strands as you separated. 

“What are you staring at so intensely? I feel like you’re dissecting me.” 

He felt loose and sappy from the drinks earlier, more willing to take risks.

“You. I’m staring at you.” 

“Me?”

His eyes shifted up to meet yours again. “You.” You chuckled a little bit at him before replying. 

“Why?”

“I want to kiss you.” The words slipped out of him before he could stop them, once again putting his foot in his mouth. You were going to reject him, tell him off for violating your boundaries. He’d have to text Hinata tomorrow that he fucked up with you and that everything went wrong. 

“Kiss me.” The first time you said the words it didn’t compute in his brain. 

“Tobio, kiss me.” He stood frozen, short-circuiting, he had been so set on an outcome that a change in path threw him off.

The trance was broken when he felt your lips against his, sticky from the lip gloss as he imagined. You were soft, like a feather brushing across his kiss, gentle and tentative. When you pulled away from him it felt like he could breathe again. You tasted sweet, no doubt partially from the lip gloss but also just you. He wanted more.

Kageyama leaned in, one hand tentatively reaching up to the side of your face to cradle it. His lips met yours again it started with pecks, gentle like you had been, before building in intensity. It felt like Kageyama had been starving for years, the sensation unknown and accepted as just a part of living, but as your mouth opened and his tongue met yours he realised that his hunger, his craving, his desire, had been an aspect of himself so far removed from his understanding until this moment. He understood want and need now that he had tasted you.

The heat of your breath melting with his own made his nerves alight as you parted for air. 

“I’m in love with you.” Your forehead met his shoulder and you laughed. 

“Tobio I know,” it was like the lights in the room knew to shine down around you giving you a halo. “You’re not good at hiding it.”

“I’m sorry.”  You tucked your head under his chin and he let his hands slip down from your waist and into your back pockets, feeling emboldened by your actions.

You swayed with him to the beat of the song as the transition music into the main act’s set began. 

“If it’s any consolation I found it cute.” Your lips met the side of his neck and you tilted upwards to his ear. “I’m in love with you too.”

He joined you in shifting side to side, enjoying the moment as you murmured against his skin, voice warmth with honesty. He didn’t understand it all, but he understood you in this moment, the shared feeling of love between you. One old and ancient, but never weathered by time, still steadfast in its stature. Unending, unshifting. 

The “Japanese Hozier” stepped out onstage and Kageyama let you turn to face the stage, moving to take his hands off you only to find them being wrapped around your waist again, guided by your hands.  He wouldn’t remember the set list, or the singer's performance, too entangled in you and feeling you in all his senses to care about anything else. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

You had brought him home after the show, still humming some of the songs as you puttered around. He had changed as you made a midnight snack for the two of you. His hair hung in clumped damp strands as he played sudoku on his phone waiting for you to finish up. You hated when he got in your way in the kitchen. 

With a plate full of mini pancakes you plopped down on the couch next to him, your makeup removed and hair up. He liked you the most like this, relaxed and human. Sometimes he worried you were an angel sent down from the heavens to make him believe in god but instead drove him to sin.

He took one off the plate when you moved it closer to him. Chewing on it slowly, watching you nibble on yours. 

“You wanna talk about it?” His eyes were peeled on your lips. 

“Only if you’re comfortable.” 

“I’m fine…” you moved and placed the plate on the coffee table. “Good, actually. Great even.”

“I feel like I owe you an explanation.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “For what?”

“I don’t know.” He felt so many things right now it was difficult to verbalise any of them.

You pulled your knees to your chest and faced him. A braid fell into your face and you tucked it behind your ear. Every time he looked at you he understood poetry and prose, songs of admiration, why men would go to war over their lovers. It was nonsensical, to think you could see stars in someone's eyes, but you reflected the lights of the room like a planetarium. He thought that he might die before he found the words to express his thoughts and feelings to you, to get his point across, but he knew with you he didn’t have to. He had never had to. 

His hand encompassed your own, interlocking his fingers with yours. They fit together like puzzle pieces, you the last piece needed to complete the puzzle. Simple connection, conjoining of spirits. 

Kageyama tugged on your hand, pulling you towards himself, making you come to rest on your shins in between his legs. He kissed the back of your hand, softly, tenderly, still afraid that there was something he was missing. But the ball never dropped, the tower never crumbled, and he led you further forward, your free hand resting at his chest before slithering up the back of his neck. 

He couldn’t tell if it was you or him who moved first, closing the distance between you, your lips meeting again. It felt more tentative than the first ones had. Careful and measured, aware of the space, the boundaries, the dynamic you had had. Of how that was shifting, changing, as the pretences you had were changed. 

Kageyama dropped your hand in favour of wrapping his around your waist, guiding you to manoeuvre into his lap. Your ass rested against his groin. The longer he kissed you, the more he felt himself growing hard, aided by your hips grinding down on him. Once on a night out with the team, you had danced with him and it was then that he learned of how fluid you were. Tonight you were water, dripping down on him, swirling around him, wetting his skin. 

He palmed at the waistband of the sleep shorts you had changed into, desperately wanting to remove them but unwilling to force you into something. You pulled away from kissing him to remove your shorts, left in just your underwear and oversized shirt. Kageyama quickly stripped off his shirt before kissing you again, this time letting it evolve into making out with you.

One of your hands moved to his lower abdomen, brushing against his happy trail, making him shiver. He felt you palm at his length through his sweats, slow and sensually. His dick was bigger than you thought it’d be. Average girth but one or two inches longer than expected.  

“Can I touch you?” 

“Yes.” His response was quick, jumping the gun, eager to have you take him in your hand. 

When your skin met his Kageyama swore he might cum from it. His emotions were high-strung, making him more sensitive. He whimpered as your thumb crossed over the tip. 

Your hands felt like velvet against him, smooth and soft, your touch gentle but firm, supplying the perfect amount of pressure as you began sliding it up and down his shaft. His stomach muscles tightened as you went along, pulling him in on himself. It should be criminal that you made him feel such a way from something so simple, reducing him into a schoolboy being touched for the first time. 

He wrapped a hand around your wrist to stop your movements, separating from kissing you to speak. 

“I’m going to cum if you do that too much.”

“That’s the goal Tobio.” 

“Yes, I know, but I would like to make you cum before I do.” 

You gave a small smile, butterflies flitting around in his stomach as you did. “Well, who am I to stop you?”

You crossed your arms as you took off your shirt. When you changed earlier you must not have put on a bra. The curve of your waist he knew already to be temptation incarnate, but the swell of your chest would turn any many into a sinner. 

Your nipples were hard as they were exposed to the cool air of your apartment, small silver balls catching the overhead light. 

“You have your nipples pierced?” 

You cupped your breasts, pinching your nipples. Tobio’s eyes were locked in, focused on the way the silver complimented you. “Yeah, I’ve had them for ages.”

“Can I touch them?” He wanted to pinch at your nipples and feel the cool metal beside them. Your nod was all he needed to do so. 

His touch was hesitant at first, afraid of damaging the piercing somehow. When he squeezed down harder on them he could feel the bars going through your nipples. It was interesting to him, the modification, he wondered what made you get them in the first place. 

As he pinched and twisted your nipples slightly, a soft whimper snuck out the back of your throat, going straight to his already painfully hard erection. 

If you were sensitive to this he wanted to know what it would do to you if he took them into his mouth. It was in the name of science that he did so, leaning forward and wrapping his mouth around your left nipple. 

The metal met his tongue, cold and sharp, constructing against the warmth of your chest. He was cautious not to use his teeth as he played with your nipple in his mouth. You gave out small moans and gasps, hips stuttering against his own, as you threw your head back. Ever since you had gotten them pierced your nipples were more sensitive than ever. 

Kagayema stared up at you. He wondered how he got so lucky in life. He’d have to go to the shrine on New Year with his mother to thank the gods for letting him have you like this. 

He wanted to make you feel more, to know his touch in ways you never had before. 

His free hand not ding at your waist trailed down your side, tracing the outline, as he dragged it down to your core. When he met your underwear, the fabric a simple micro fibre, and slipped past it he was certain that he’d need to go to the shrine every holiday. You were wet, drenched even, allowing his fingers to slip through your slick folds easily. 

Kageyama was not a virgin, he’d had sex before and he was thorough with it. His thumb met your clot, going over it in slow circles, while his pointer and ring finger started to tease your hole. 

When he was able the press both fingers into you and pump them in and out of you, he released your nipple that he had ever so diligently been sucking on to swap for the other one. He bit down it ever so slightly making a shocked gasp and whimper of his name escape you. 

“Be gentle jackass!” Your speech airy, escaping as an exhale. 

It was cruel the way how you said his name made his dick jerk as if he was going to cum, the muscle in his abdomen flexing tight. He’d be dammed if he came before you though, his teeth grazing over your nipple again, tongue swiping over the bar. 

His fingers picked up in speed, pressing against a spot that made you squeak almost. High-pitched and short. Like you hadn’t expected him to hit it. 

The pressure building kept building as he did so, making you get lightheaded as it went on. He was so close to making you cum. Like an itch, you scratch just next to it, the edge. 

His thumb kept toying with your clit as he kept his pace steady, matching the tempo. You could feel yourself tightening up as he worked your body. The noises in the room turned pornographic as more liquid gushed out of you, lubricating his hand, making it easier for him to thrust his fingers in and out and in again. 

Kageyama detached himself from your chest and moved to kiss along the side of your neck and ear.

“You’re so pretty…” he trailed off before biting your neck and sucking hard to leave a hickey. 

You came with a start, the orgasm rolling through you as he bit down, his name coming out a broken moan. Your muscle winding right before snapping under the pressure, eyes screwing shut. It made your head spin, feeling your heartbeat in your skull and down to your toes. The force of it made you clamp down so hard on Kageyama’s fingers that as he tried to pull them out, he couldn’t. 

A minute passed before he was finally able to slip them out of you as you whined for him to keep them inside. When you finally opened your eyes you were met with Kageyams face being entirely red.

“You okay?”  You propped yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

He licked his lips before speaking, trying to wet them. “I just came.” 

“Oh.”

Things were still for a second. 

“Is there, uh, anything I can do to help?” 

“No. Just give me a minute.” This was the most embarrassment he had felt in a long time 

“Okay.” You cupped his face with one hand. He turned a kissed your palm “We can stop here if you want.”

He contemplated for a few moments in his head, his boxer briefs now feeling sticky. The sensation was grossing him out no matter how badly he wanted to continue.  

“Tobio,” you flicked his forehead “Get out of your head, you’ve got that scrunched-up look on your face.” 

He grumbled against your palm as he spoke. “I like you and I’m embarrassed.”

“Well, I love you and we can always go for a second round.” 

He stilled, humming under his breath. “Could we shower first?” 

“Of course.” 

───※ ·❆· ※───

Out of the shower, where a second round had happened, along with telling you about the bet, Kageyama felt unsure of what to do next. It reminded him of leaving a court at the end of a game, his adrenaline high and heart pumping. The adjustment to reality was strange and foreign. He was sure this must have been how you felt after a concert ended. Lost, unsure what to do after as he cuddled with you in your bed. 

“What happens next?” 

You laughed and it shook your body as you lay on top of him, tracing patterns on his chest.

“You buy me breakfast in the morning.” 

“And after that?” 

“What about after that?” 

“Well,” you started. “We keep doing what we’ve always done. But when we go out to eat we don’t call it hanging out, we call it a date. When we sleep at the other’s place, we sleep in the same bed. Only the little things change between us, the big things stay the same and we get to kiss now. When an interviewer asks if you’ve got a girlfriend, you get to say yes.” 

“You’re my girlfriend?” 

“Well, I thought that was the point of the confession, well along with winning a bet, unless you don't want me to be?” 

“No, I do.” 

“Good.” 

It was silent for a moment as he intertwined his free hand in your own, bringing it closer to his mouth so he could kiss it. You settled further into him, filling out the space where he was the most empty both physically and metaphorically, humming ‘Like Real People Do’.

A Venmo notification cut through the peace. 

Nicolas Romero sent you ¥10,000 

“Atta boy Tobio” 

©️ uzuzrimisery

[pacific-rimbaud]

i'm curious how do you feel about dramione community now?

i'm a new writer, long time reader and can't help but feel like the fandom and the ship changed so much and i wonder if i even have a place in it anymore.

there's so much demand for the writers from the readers (constant update demands, no willingness to engage with wips) and at the same time i've been in a couple of dramione writer communities where other writers are openly pressuring each other to either start tiktok or finish the fic before posting it (the new dramione writers society discord server specifically).

particularly upset when i see people advising each other to commission art to promote their fic for writing.

it seems like that space for writers to be just writers becomes smaller and smaller and readers are not interested in the fandom but rather the next hot fic that's getting traction.

and all that combined with the overall hatred toward dramione as a ship outside of dramione.

I've genuinely stopped writing because of this. and i'm sad that i lost that one hobby that made me feel good, as it now seems like a popularity contest more than just fandom fun.

you seem like you're able to balance your love for writing with the changed landscape of the fandom. at least from the outside posts :D

DHr grew exponentially in the short time I spent in the ship, and that growth will only accelerate as big name fandom writers continue to enter traditional publishing with seven-figure book and film deals.

Life is change. Change is death. It's okay to grieve what's gone and won't come back.

And I want to add: keep writing. No matter what. But that would be hypocritical. I haven't written in a year, and remain deeply uncertain about whether or not I'll take it up again. It's a real puzzle.

The relevant questions seem to be: why do I want to write? And: what spaces feel nurturing to me as a writer?

The first one's easy. I write because I like the films I see in my head. I like the way language sounds. I like to experience the past, and to be swept away by intense emotions. It's like having a Holodeck in my head. And sometimes, when everything clicks, I get to describe my little bespoke scenarios in words that make a nice sound when they rub up against one another.

I'm waiting on a good answer to the second question. All I know is that art, criticism and commerce have always been an incredibly awkward ménage à trois. No shade to folks seeking to work the fandom algorithm and secure the bag (posting already completed work on a schedule, writing popular tropes and characterizations, and using original art in social media marketing are all great ways to do that). Whether money changes hands or merely attention (which can be converted into money), that's commerce having its turn at the wheel.

I'm suspicious that my creative brain is commerce-repulsed. Maybe yours is, too. So it goes.

I'm certain that we shouldn't let that keep us off the Holodeck.

So. Make a deal with me. I promise to run some freaky little scenarios in the simulator this summer if you'll do the same. Then let's meet in the limestone cave and paint our blorbos by candlelight. Let's tell them around the campfire. Come draw them with me in the sand.

[cactuupng]

I also need to talk about my blorbo (scar. Ofc.) so here's my silly thoughts on these two:

Theyre both aroace and awkward as fuck when it comes to showing affection. Scar loved holding hands. Mumbo does too except he's very weird about it and is always very anxious to initiate any hand holding and doesn't know if it's appropriate in the given moment (he's just like me fr)

Mumbo also struggles with social anxiety. Scar struggles with general anxiety. They're both anxious little fucks.

Scar always feels cold and Mumbo is surprisingly warm so Scar loves cuddling with Mumbo. He's like his own personal heater.

That's all for now djfkdkgken

he's so me FRRRR

Mumbo is SO aroace and just incredibly socially anxious, like that man does NOT know how to initiate any physical touches and interactions, he just overthinks everything and just makes himself more nervous (pov a friend just hugged him)

Also!! Yes yes yes Mumbo constantly being warm for some reason?? I've been going INSANE over this idea for so long and GAHHHH his hugs are always one of the warmest, so the hermits who are almost always cold like Scar would 100% just seek out hugs from him if they're feeling down

Which I find silly cause I imagine Mumbo just being🧍while cuddling for the first few times that happens because he?? doesn't know??? what to do???? he's the completely oblivious to affection type guy. He gets used to it tho ofc, you kinda have to when 2 of the people closest to you (Scar and Grian) really enjoy cuddles and sleepovers

Scar, the incredibly affectionate one + Mumbo, the non affectionate one = "Hey he asked for no pickles" type of dynamic

also you bet Mumbo babysits Jellie sometimes and its definitely not because he's always warm and she's a big fan of it

[shellibisshe]

I’ve stared at this for like an hour trying to come up with a caption that is not just me yelling but I can’t so. enjoy me yelling. ANYWAYS since January I decided I wanted to get a commission of one of my ships as a graduation present to myself, so I thought it was only natural to get my favorite blorbos ever ms Amara and Delsin. I knew I wanted to commission Emma @red-nightskies again and I’m so happy I did. Emma you genuinely did such an amazing job bring these two to life and I could not be more thankful!!! if you ever thought about commissioning Emma before this is your sign to go for it, I’m so happy with how this turned out and I will be staring at this for the next business week

tag list! (opt in/out) @carrionsflower @simplegenius042 @thedeadthree @loriane-elmuerto @socially-awkward-skeleton @imogenkol @malefiquinn @risingsh0t @kyber-infinitygems @a-treides @captastra @gothimp @statichvm @xtinafrye @calenhads @poetikat @nonfunctioning-queer @ghostfvcker @dickytwister @inafieldofdaisies

[itstokkii]

finally, some aph uzb headcanons

i realize i've done some korea, amekor, and turkuzbek hcs but i've never actually done one of my blorbo uzbekistan. so thats changing right now

- she's of average uzbek woman height(167cm) and her hair is that shade of brown that looks almost black, but when the sunlight hits just right it looks like a faint shade of auburn. you know, that kind of hair shade.

- her name is "nargiza" which translates to "narcissus flower" or "daffodil." her close friends and family(and turkey too ig 🙄) call her nargiz for short.

- her hobbies are embroidery and quiltmaking with tajikistan, trying out new desserts to bake, reading, gossiping, piano playing and knitting(she picked up both from russia), drinking hot black tea in even hotter weather(she's a tea elitist and Will Not Consider iced tea to be part of the tea category)

- best cook. she's the best cook out of the central asians and they always try to have her cook dinner("it just hits different when you cook food for us apa")

- she has a resting scary/angry face. she looks like she's about to kill someone. but when you ask her a question she'll immediately smile and won't hesitate to help you in whatever way she can.

- has the best relationship with kazakhstan and tajikistan. though sometimes she has a habit of babying kazakhstan as an older sister. old habits from the uzbek khanate die hard i guess...

- has a weird relationship with uyghurstan, and they have a few very awkward phone calls per year. if you heard the minutes of silence sandwiched in between their conversations you'd experience second hand embarrassment.

- her relations with iran are interesting. she adopted persian as the official and court language of the bukharan khanate. but she's also tried to take parts of iran's land a few times. for a while iran even exerted control over the bukharan khanate for a few years by persian ruler nader shah until he died. there's been a lot of cultural exchange from iran to uzbekistan historically, and uzbekistan is also considered a part of the greater iran region(maybe i should give her the ahoge...). nowruz, for example, is a holiday that came from persia and is celebrated in the central asian countries, especially tajikistan and uzbekistan.

- she...doesn't like russia. not at all. it's one of the few things she and kyrgyzstan both agree on, and they've both fantasized about throwing themselves at him like rabid dogs for a while(kyrgyzstan was more serious about it, and uzbekistan had to stop him) but after her independence she had to suck up to him due to her economic reliance on him. recently, though, she's been moving away from russia in favor of spotting economic opportunities within uzbekistan that will help with self-growth(and also reaching out to turkey and china for mutual trading)

- she's not the most developed nation out there, but is still very prissy about her overall appearance. she knows how to clean up. don't even get me started on the things she wears to weddings. she isn't worried about competition because she IS the competition.

- at home, she'll wear the usual stuff you'd see an uzbek mom wear, a matching dress and pants cut from atlas fabric. she'll have a small scarf wrapped around her hair to pull it back, and has her hair up in a ponytail, bun, or braids.

- when she's out, she wears perfectly coordinated outfits every single time, hair and makeup perfectly done.

- dont be fooled though. she Will wear the definitely fake chanel sweaters and slippers with pride.

- she fake smiles a lot and tries to stop her habit of having a resting scary face. even though that's her default, she's gotten a lot of flack from old ladies throughout the centuries for it.

- generally, she's not a super expressive, bubbly person(that's her sister tajikistan). she's fine with small talk(and DEFINITELY gossiping) but depending on who it is and whether they're in her social circle or not, she'll either enjoy it or hate every agonizing second of it. When you ask about her house though, she'll tell you everything with a certain sparkle in her eyes.

- if you want her to go through all 44 feelings at once and watch her freak out and overheat like an old gaming PC just bring up turkey i guess

- to get into her social circle takes a lot of time and a lot of waiting for her to open up and talk about personal things. Think maybe...20 years at the very least.

- leading into the other headcanon of her being a little insecure. throughout the years, the uber-collectivist society of uzbekistan caused her to become more and more hyperaware of her actions and how others will think about them. the one exception is that she can't hide her disappointment.

- her predecessors are the khwarazmian empire and timurid empire. she barely knew the khwarazmian empire as uzbekistan was born as one of the few tribes to emerge after khwarazmi was engulfed by the mongols.

- she was old enough to remember timurid, however. he was like her older brother, albeit one with...skewed moral values. he'd always insist that this was all to rekindle the empire that the great genghis khan left behind, and to spread islam as a religion.

"besides," he'd add, "isn't samarqand looking absolutely beautiful lately?"

"yes, because you kidnapped the best artisans and craftsmen after looting their cities." she deadpanned.

- she was quite surprised(and impressed, by a sliver) when her brother managed to successfully siege ankara and cause a civil war in the ottoman empire. she knew timurid was growing, but she had no idea he got this strong. it almost didn't seem surprising when he announced his plans to go after china, before he died(and then respawned as the mughal empire, but that's another story.)

- "russia when i catch you russia" - uzbekistan since the 1870s

- she has a house in tashkent and bukhara, but mostly lives in tashkent now that it's the capital. since she's literally the center of central asia and borders everyone including afghanistan, they all stay at her house when traveling(turkey is stuck at a hotel whenever he visits tho...)

- her spice tolerance? dont even ask. its not there. completely gone. give her a little heinz chili sauce and she's scrambling to find water.

- once korea took her out on a date to a korean restaurant. one bite of the kimchi and it was over for her

- if you ever come over to her house, she'll spoil you with food and gifts. there will be a drama series playing on her tv as you two chat for hours. when you leave expect it to be about 8 hours after you arrived and for the walk home to be extremely heavy as she gives you 3 bags full of gifts and dried fruits and desserts.

[crazylittlejester]

Jes would you like to yap about anything?

I LOVE YAPPING!! I always wanna yap about things, but sometimes it’s hard to wrote my thoughts coherently

Anyways today’s yap subject is Time because I have such THOUGHTS about him (and a lot of headcanons!!) (disclaimer: again these are just my THOUGHTS and HEADCANONS)

To me, Time is a character who often struggles with social cues and his own tone. It’s hard for him to pick up on dry sarcasm (sometimes Four, mostly Legend) and actually realize it’s sarcasm. Sometimes people think HE’S being sarcastic because he speaks so flatly and he’s incredibly direct.

“What’s the biggest thing you’ve ever fought?”

“The moon.”

He’s direct and to the point, and he doesn’t use a whole lot of words. Sometimes that’s seen as sarcasm, and I have a feeling when he was a kid a lot of adults accused him of being rude because they thought he was being sarcastic when he wasn’t.

Joy/Excitement/Happiness are the easiest expressions to read FROM him. He smiles a lot and he’ll talk more quickly about things he’s excited about, and also use a lot of hand gestures. Worry/Concern is also an easier emotion to read from him because he’ll very awkwardly hover or frown. For people who don’t know him it might just look like he’s upset or mad about something, but for people who do they know what the frown means

Anger, or Sadness, or even Fear are a lot harder to read from him unless it’s someone who’s known him for quite a while. He has little signs and tells, but the average person might assume he’s indifferent or isn’t reacting strongly enough for the severity of the situation. He feels very deeply but he doesn’t express it in the way the average person would. He might have a straight neutral looking expression but be having the time of his life, or he might be sitting in a corner frowning while watching over someone who is incredibly hurt. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care, he just struggles to show exactly how much

He does cry, especially when he’s really stressed or frustrated with himself because sometimes he feels like he CAN’T properly express himself and people just won’t understand, or when he reaches a point where everything gets to be too much, but that’s not always sobbing. Sometimes that’s just tears running down his face while he sits there

He’s a bit awkward when it comes to physical affection, but by GOD has he mastered the shoulder pat. A shoulder pat from Time is the equivalent of a bear hug from Sky. Hugs from Time are less frequent, and he’s better with giving them to certain than he is others (like his wife, Tune/Wind and Warriors, and eventually Twilight, because he’s used to that with them), but sometimes he’s just stiff and awkward about it. He does his best

I’ve said this a LOT but I don’t think he does anything fatherly on purpose. He cares about the boys and looks after them, but in his mind he is not a dad. The others just have daddy issues /hj

This one is DEFINITELY just a headcanon I have that’s based on absolutely nothing I’ve seen from him in game or in LU, but i believe in my heart he kept his hair short as a kid because he hated the feeling of it growing out on his neck, and if he were to cut it now, he’d never get it this long again because the growing out stage was miserable for him. I think sometimes he still gets overwhelmed by hair on his neck, but he can just tie it back because it’s long enough

i’ve been thinkin a lot about Time recently, he’s the character who’s pov i’ve written the most words in, which is odd to think about since a few people have dubbed me the wars guy, but yeah Time is a special blorbo to me too and i love him 🫶

hopefully this was coherent and doesn’t have TOO many spelling mistakes 😭

[relatableblorbopoll]

Round 1 of preliminaries, group 6

The first two places get a place on the bracket

Little reminder: there will be 2 more rounds of preliminaries, the losing blorbos of this poll still have 2 chances of getting in the official bracket

propaganda under the cut

Jesper Fahey (Six of Crows)

No Propaganda

Crowley (Good Omens)

"He's gender. He's been in love with one guy for literally 6000 years and then royally fucks up his entire confession. He yells at his plants. He drapes himself over every fucking surface he sits on. He walks like *that*. He just fuckin makes sounds sometimes. He's me fr."

Dave Strider (Homestuck)

"everything that can be said about Dave's relatability will probably sound redundant, clichéd, or overdone if you are at all familiar with tumblrs sort of blorbo culture. this is exactly why he should be in this tournament.

stop me if you think that you've heard this one before: he hides his genuine emotions behind a persona, deflects sincerity with jokes, but also has a deep desire for validation and connection, so that his persona has many cracks where little bits of his true self slip through. deeply insecure, compares himself to others. a defeatist streak, avoids responsibility. does not wish to be troubled by The Horrors. he just wants to hang out and do his lil creative hobbies (making music and drawing comics). talks a lot to the point of being pretty awkward, rambling, and accidentally saying stuff he shouldnt.

all these things I think tend to resonate deeply with a lot of people, especially on Tumblr - that "person who is insecure and struggles with emotional openness so copes by making jokes" sort of trope, it's just like kin bait (affectionate). he also has a complicated relationship with gender which I know many find relatable (shout out to the "Dave homestuck was my trans awakening" homies) but whether it's about figuring out gender or sexuality or trauma or the apocalypse or anything else, Dave comes at it with an initial, learned, fear and reluctance that I think a lot of people have experienced, because it's very human and very much a part of many readers experiences (we live in a society). but he's always good, and likeable and that makes for a very important sort of relatable character. very comforting. even if he's a mess and he's an idiot you can believe he can get to something better, and you can watch him develop and grow.

also, I think he's extremely relatable because he never really knows what's going on in the comic either. I mean, that's gonna be relatable to most people Vis a vis homestuck. he's confused and he just wants to vibe and make his friends laugh. WHO AMONG US cannot relate?? I do not believe you if you say no.

I wrote too much and got way too weird about it. I'm sorry it's late I'd edit down but I really don't have the brain capacity.. which is very Dave core of me actually"

Junior (Total Drama Presents: The Ridonculous Race)

"i relate to him a lot because his whole character is being embarrassed of his dad who tries too hard to be cool, but still loves him anyways. that is literally me"

Kim Dokja (Omnicient Reader's Viewpoint)

"kim dokja. oh kim dokja. so, without going into spoilers too much, kim dokja is very much a character you are expected to relate to and it makes the novel DEVASTATING. here's just a few things about him: - he is obsessed with a particular piece of media, and finds comfort in it when real life doesn't give him any. he's constantly thinking about it and defending it and trying to recommend it to other people (even though no one else bothers reading it, because it is an objectively bad 3000-chapter webnovel). even beyond that one novel, he's been using fiction as an escape for just about his entire life, something that rings true for a lot of people, especially in the modern world. - he struggles with socializing with other people. the first chapter alone gave me so much second hand embarrassment. it's so real but god it's So bad. he has zero friends and has that sort of loneliness where you're miserable but you can't really bring yourself to feel anything but resigned to it. in general he is just very Resigned to his unfortunate life and can't fully understand or accept it when it finally does get better - he has a complicated relationship with his mother. it's the kind of relationship where the parent genuinely does love their child, but they fail to give them what they need & have to accept that they hurt their kid and that they cannot be the most important person in their life. it's certainly not a universal experience but those sorts of parent-child relationships are woefully common but scarcely acknowledged -the insecurity. god there is so much insecurity in that man. it's hard to even completely tell it's there at first, because it's so ingrained in how he thinks that you don't question it until you know more about his character and suddenly it's all too apparent. he cannot believe that he can be loved (or, if that he can be, that they certainly would not be able to love all of him, only what he chooses to show them), and is selfless but like. the literal meaning of the word, where he will throw away all of his being for the people he loves. in general there is a lot of sacrifice as a love language which like. while i'm not off around throwing myself in front of magic death beams for people or anything i sure would give up everything i could if it meant helping the people i love - ok enough of that. here's some funny things i can relate to. the guy meets his favorite fictional blorbo and instead of worshipping him instead he bullies him constantly and internally complains about how unbearable he is both in the book and in real life. it's like a "i love my blorbo. i would not last 2 seconds in a room with him." You know. he gets so caught up in his fanon characterizations and biases about characters that he completely mischaracterizes them like constantly. he literally kills a guy half because he was his least favorite character. -this is a poll about blorbo relatability. therefore i must mention that kim dokja too related to his blorbo (or at least attempted to) and what is more relatable than that. anyways. kdj made me realize far too much about myself and is by far the most i have ever related to a character (and i Hate it). and tumblr would definitely relate to him too so :thumbs-up:"

"(SPOILERS) He is literally all of us. Reader. Just some guy. And then insane tragic backstory. But he’s also just some guy. He’s special and also just a guy. He’s also god. He can be shipped w anyone. He has versatility and interests and motivations. He also never tells anyone anything ever. He is so me."

"He reads a trashy, long-ass novel as a coping mechanism and doesn't think he's capable of being loved. Bro dissociates when he's emoting too much."

"I'm a homestuck fan, a Dave Strider fan even Never heard of Omnicient Reader's before Voted for the kim fellow because judging by the propaganda it looks like he himself would be a homestuck reader therefore making him more relatable than the homsetuck character himself"

"This guy’s been my companion since I was 11, I’ve grown up with Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint and I think that’s pretty funny since he grew up with Ways of Survival (the 3149 chapter novel) and therefore I’m straight up mirroring him. I, too, scare everyone off by being too enthusiastic whenever the webnovel is brought up! His insecurities are severe but I do see myself in some parts of him (which is worrying but whatever.) He is absolutely The Guy Ever. Utterly pathetic wet cat of a man. I love him. He represents the crazy fandom tumblrina in all of us."

Donutella (Tokidoki)

"she's made of donuts basically like me at this point"

[bemusedlybespectacled]

so, I'm thinking a teensy bit more about character death and, specifically, the death of a main character in a comedy show that I'm actually okay with. I'm talking about Death in Paradise.

Just as a primer for people who weren't raised by teaboos, it's a murder mystery comedy show, the premise of which is that there is one white British detective inspector guy who solves murders with his group of local cops: basically Midsomer Murders but on a fictional Caribbean island.

The comedy is always that he's some kind of socially awkward nerd who clashes in some way with his otherwise-entirely-Caribbean office, especially his black female second-in-command, even though they've at this point had four different DIs and I don't know how many changes of supporting characters.

The first two seasons, with DI Richard Poole, are your typical cozy murder-of-the-week-type mysteries. And then the third season starts, and the first mystery of the season is who killed DI Poole.

Like, it literally opens exactly like a normal episode, with a cold open establishing the suspects and showing us the murder victim before cutting to the jaunty theme tune and opening credits. It's just that this particular murder victim is the main character.

And then the plot progresses in exactly the same way, with a different white British nerd guy leading the investigation, because THE PROTAGONIST FOR THE PAST SIXTEEN EPISODES IS DEAD.

Now, some key differences between this show and OFMD:

It's a murder mystery show, so the rules are inherently different. No Muppet physics here: people die all the time and they die in totally normal ways, like getting stabbed with an ice pick or drowned in a fish tank or turned into a science class skeleton.

While this was the first time a main character was killed off, it was not the first time the DI had been killed. The pilot had Richard solving the murder of the previous DI, only for it to be revealed that his black female second-in-command of that episode was the murderer (Camille Bordey, his actual #2, isn't assigned to him until the very end of that episode). Like, shocking twists about characters you thought were "safe" was established in the very first episode.

The death actually affected the fucking characters and the fucking plot.

It's been like ten years since this episode aired and I still really like this episode, even though it gutted me the first time I watched it (and I don't like the later seasons nearly as much). Like, it's not my favorite (that's 2x06), but it's definitely in my top three. Because even though this is the episode they killed off DI Blorbo From My Britbox, it's also an episode about him.

The comedy is toned way down because the entire office is gutted by his loss. They have to do mundane things like call his parents to tell them he died and review CCTV footage and wait for lab data like it's just a normal case when it's not. At every step, there's a "what would Richard have done?" moment. And even though this is the episode that introduces the new DI, Humphrey Goodman, the summation at the end is entirely about Richard, with this pretty sweet line:

You know, bizarrely, I'm the only one who never met Richard Poole. But during this case, I… I feel as though I've got to know him a little. Mostly by the effect he had on those around him. But it seems we all forgot one very crucial thing: he was a detective. A good one. I think he made a discovery, had a theory about what he discovered, and then sent home for evidence to corroborate that theory. And in doing so, he has, in essence, solved his own murder.

His presence is felt throughout the entire episode, even though he's only alive for the first three minutes or so. His death is disappointing (especially for those of us who shipped him with Camille), but it actually has an impact.

So when they brought back Camille in S10, years after she was written out, they also brought back Richard: Camille imagines having a conversation with him when she’s worried that her mother is going to die, and he gives her advice and comforts her. And that scene makes me cry every time I watch it, because it's clear that she misses him as much as the audience does.

We didn't get that in OFMD. We didn't get an acknowledgement of how Izzy impacted the other characters (except Ed, in the weakest way possible), or even them looking sad for longer than two minutes. We sweep past it immediately and go directly to a wedding and then Stede and Ed settling down together.

There’s no gravity to it. There’s no time to process the loss. Hell, for the characters, there ISN’T a real loss. And if the characters don’t care, why should we?