#kindnotnice

Hi! Great question <3

Severus Snape: T. He's very curious as to how they work as a whole, even at his age. He likes to touch them every way he can think of. Sometimes he'll put his chin on your tummy and lick the nipple, then blow on them to see them harden. He's so cute like that but don't ever say it to him out loud. He gets embarrassed and then pissy.

Remus Lupin: A. Very shy. Very nervous. Incredibly awkward regarding intimate experiences. He likes doggy (no pun intended) so he can avoid eye contact, especially when you first get together. He likes the closeness, the ability to grab someone and be trusted enough to be with them like that. Also.. it's cushy. Comfy. Round. He likes that lol.

Toshinori Yagi: Both. And I mean that very literally. He's fascinated by every inch of you. He'll squeeze your tits, your arms, your tummy, your ass - fuck, he'll grope your calves if he can get away with it. And he loves to pull out and cum on you, if you'll let him. Seeing it usually leads to a round two-

Shigaraki: T. You can't tell me he doesn't get off on wrapping his extra hands around your throat and slapping your tits while he screws you silly. He likes the way you squirm with so many hands on you, on your chest. You can't tell me I'm wrong. He'll be doing you and will go faster just to see your tig ol bitties bounce lmao

Aizawa: A. Similar to Shigaraki and despite his general softness in bed, he gets a hell of a rise out of slapping to your ass to make you tighten around him. It's like a button and he just keeps pressing it. Sometimes if he presses it hard enough, you also moan and then he just cracks some blunt asf joke about it being a buzzer, too.

I get the feeling that this one is personal, and that's okay because it's personal for me, too.

Sometimes it's very difficult to get the motivation to be and do better, especially on the days when others are nagging about what you have or haven't accomplished.

I struggle with it incessantly, which is why my posts went from 10 a day to 10 per season 😥.

Depression kills if you're not careful, but luckily, Severus is.

He, too, knows what it is to feel stuck in your own outwardly-perceived ineptitude. He knows what it's like to grow tired of fighting all of the bad voices in your head and the paranoia that grows with each side glance from a colleague until you eventually start to believe them. On the good days, you know which are which, but you don't want to be a burden to anyone by making things hard or relying on anyone too much, so instead of asking for help, you tend to sink into yourself and let important duties slide. Work goes unmarked, ink gets left out to dry, and your office gradually becomes disorganized. It was a pity. Most of your things were usually in exactly chosen spots, and they never left them but to be used, then put away accordingly. Now scrolls you used to keep others from touching for fear of messing them up were crumpled and bent, just as the quills you bought only a month prior were sullied from a lack of a good clean to keep the dust away.

He wanted you to get it together. To stop being so difficult and just do what needed to be done. But watching you, he recognized the struggle, and he very quickly remembered what it was like for him as a young man. Even when he was older, and knew how to take care of himself, oftentimes it did not matter to him whether his hair looked pristine or his clothes freshly pressed. He assumed this… drop in characterization.. was exactly that.

But you were grown. He wasn't your handler, and he wouldn't insult you with the notion that you couldn't take care of yourself just because you're in your own head. So for a while, he simply (mistakenly) urged you to keep up. An EOD work notice or an invitation to work through lunch - whatever kept you on a schedule without bringing light to your drastically waning habits.

But he knows you're no fool. Eventually you will catch on to how his strict teaching methods are being used on you of all people. And he will be frank with you.

“You are better than this charade you've fallen into putting yourself through.” He'd insist fervently, almost angrily, because he expects a lot from you, but doesn't quite grasp how to say that without giving it a tone of obligation. “Your mind, of all things, tricking you into thinking you are lesser than. We've been through this: you are smart enough to know when your mind is playing you for a fool.”

He makes himself out to be unattached, naturally, but on nights when you stay in his quarters he keeps an arm over you for his own peace of mind. Sensible or not, he won't claim to know your mindset, and the Faculty Tower has high windows. In the mornings, he gets one of his sides on your plate by insisting he has no taste for it (but you only ever see him leave the table after you've finished eating it).

You see, when Severus is lost in himself, he generally turns to work, but that applies to him. He is aware that most break after building up pressure for so long.

Eventually, he will sit you down to discuss your mindset. And he expects the truth. Your troubles, your stumbling blocks… his honest opinion about how to proceed will more than likely include a lecture on mental discipline.

Severus Snape:

Snape, in a heavy, low British accent melted into his voice box like gold: What on earth do you think you're doing?

Severus is watching the snowfall,

Remus is enjoying life itself,

Yagi is relaxing and resting his bones,

Aizawa is gifting Eri the sweater the other teachers told him not to, and she loves it,

Vander, Silco, and Benzo are watching the kids open presents,

Viktor and Jayce are set up on a Zaunite street corner with a bunch of tools and a sign that says 'Bring a broken toy: we'll fix it.",

Philip and Caleb are having Christmas dinner with Eveline's family, and

Cicero is not alone for the holidays now that he lives in the Dawnstar Sanctuary with his Listener.

HI thank you for waiting <3 if you hadn't already forgotten about it. I absolutely loved writing this because he is soft and tender when he trusts someone, even in friendships like we see with McGonagall. He was never directly crude in a meaningful way.

I want to assume that he hadn't slept with anyone prior to them - or at least not anyone whose name he recalled or learned, so sex was a very foreign thing to begin with, along with sensual touches. What he favored most was the connection. The warmth of someone's skin on his, seeking his out.

But the touching made it so much better.

Hands of a lover he was grateful to be with tugging at his arms, paving his skin like they might meld into him, caging him in their legs from the need to be closer. To be near him.

It was something he struggled to wrap his head around.

He was an asshole. A git with an ugly personality that most could not tolerate. That, he understood. What perplexed him was the notion that they were okay with this, and that somehow that acception dulled his scathing remarks and clipped, passive-aggressive insults into breathless doting and tender whispers. His hands, where they normally would be clinically accurate, meticulous to a fault, now wandered aimlessly over soft skin that shivered and relented without any urging.

His lips ghosted their eyelashes before placing a kiss to their cheek, their temple, then over to their ear to hear a breathless something akin to a giggle leave their lips.

He cracked a fleeting grin as well. They didn't see it.

And even if they did, it went unregistered in comparison to the tender, careful nudges of his hips between their legs. Hands gripped at his shoulders. He drove deeper. They huffed.

They had a close call today. A walk in the woods, one meant for students to learn how to gather local ingredients, but it turned nasty. A Slytherin girl had an adverse reaction to one of the plants. She tensed up and clutched her throat minutes later. The urgency with which they'd rushed her back to the infirmary left them terribly stressed, but as professors, it was their job to keep a level head and lead everyone back without so much as a gasp or a look of worry. The girl was perfectly fine, thank Merlin.

Not long after dinner, they were holed up in his bedchambers to relieve the tension. Only, instead of going nuts and screwing like teenagers, he took it slow, built up the pressure in them, reveled in their quiet responses like the sound was amplified in his ears. Each one drew a moan from his throat, the sultry mimicry of his drawl without the syllables to back it up. Whether he had meant to say something or just needed to get it out was unclear.

His angle was perfect, gliding against that sweet spot that made their practiced breathing pattern all but falter.

His hands drew across their chest, palming and then flicking at their nipple while they put their head back for his ever-inquisitory tongue. His hips staggered.

A whisper tickled their ear. "You call for me so often," he said, his breath growing ragged, matching the pace of his endeavors. "Why?"

"Because you love me. Don't you?" Their reply was instantaneous, as if it was such an obvious thing. Like he must've known it. Of course he did. But he heard the slight incline held within their question, felt the subtle swell in their throat when they swallowed under his palm.

He came, his hips delving deeper to feel them constrict in response to the sudden sensation. He groaned into their neck and they moaned, the tension in them snapping as he slowed to a begrudging stop.

"Of course I do." He managed with a threadbare tone. "Of course I do,"

He dipped once more and captured their lips under his own, seeking out that extra stretch of warmth as he pulsed inside them so naturally, though his cheeks were tinted by the lingering notion. He thanked Merlin they closed their eyes every time he kissed them. Otherwise he'd be done for. They could feel his breath fan their face when they parted. He was just as breathless as they were. Not from the sex, though it was a prominent factor, but from his love of the close proximity, his need to be a well of solutions for their wants.

For starters, it'd be a very touching thing to be invited as Severus's plus one.

I'd like to go over how this affects Severus's image as both a person and a(n ex-)Death Eater. He isn't the type to parade people around, especially not in the eyes of people he doesn't particularly like. He may spend time with Lucius and Narcissa, but let's not pretend it's out of affection. I love their characters, but I'd be a fool to get on here and lie to you all, saying Lucius and Narcissa aren't elitists. They look down on and are disgusted by those who don't have what they consider pure blood. They don't like Severus. They tolerate him because he's Voldy's right hand man, just like how Severus tolerates them for his own motives. But Severus isn't going to bring you around just because he thought you'd have fun there. He wouldn't take just anyone to Malfoy Manor.

He's looking for someone to get through the evening with without snapping at someone. C'mon. We all know he hates parties. He doesn't have anyone to enjoy them with until you. So unless he's getting dragged around by the host or hostess for introductions here or there, he's going to be sipping blackberry wine in the corner of the hall while watching the people dance, cringing every time someone taps a glass to give some pompous toast about how happy they are (sort of like a tweet-). Those people, they're self-indulgent in a way he simply cannot get behind. If he wanted to spin around and make business deals, he'd have an easier time going through the proper Ministry routes. But Narcissa would insist he participate and get his name out there. He thinks it's because she wants to take credit for some sponsorship should he get his name out regarding anything other than Hogwarts.

So he brings you, and you'd very quickly start to realize why. You can see the way he grips his glass every minute on the dot, as if he's willing the large grandfather clock at the part in the staircase to tick faster.

He doesn't like parties, as if I haven't reiterated it enough. But he doesn't hate them, either, if he has someone to keep him from thinking about the fact that he's at one. He wants to be able to escape from the noise by having someone ask him if the wine tastes bad to him, too. He wants to be distracted from the thought of dancing by someone pulling him away to the terrace because it was "getting too loud in there." He wants to feel like he can take a step back from the music and fine dining and get away with that. More importantly, he wanted to bring someone with whom he wouldn't mind having a rumor or two getting started about, even if he wouldn't dare say that out loud. Because we all know bringing you in the first place was the closest he could ever get to it.

(I hit post instead of save draft, augh, sorry for the unfinished tease of a post)

How he's go about asking, anyway, is... he wouldn't. He would speak of it, gauge your interests, and try to work his way around it until it's technically your idea to join him. "There is.. a gathering, at the Malfoy residence. Boisterous party-goers and drinks the common couldn't dream to afford. My.. presence there, it is necessary. They wish for me to-... you would enjoy it? How quaint. I suppose you'd like to join me then... you seem awfully confident... very well. We shall see who is right in this particular endeavor."

And when you get there, all dolled up and looking for him at the stepped entrance, the only thing hiding the fact you have him in a trance is that same lacking expression he always pulls. The other guests don't usually post much attention to him. He doesn't like to be bothered so he didn't pay it any mind. But people are approaching and greeting and smiling at the both of you, and he's realized that he's starting to regret having brought you at all. Their kind words are not for him, no. They are for you. The politeness. The manners. The shoulder touched here and there. He hates them. But even more than that, he hates them being used on you. At first it was just annoying. But the more you were smiled at or complimented or offered wine (from one of the fancy looking wax dipped bottles, no less), the more he wanted to get the both of you out of there.

It was a trick. They were dismissive toward him at the best of times. Maybe this was their way of trying to convince you to stay, or to join their horrid little gatherings more often. Maybe the men thought you were an easy grab. The thought made him shudder in disgust.

Sure enough, he'd start pulling at your arm, ignoring your cross look of confusion at why he's dragging you away from a lovely bit of ballroom gossip, and when you're finally alone and you can ask him what the hell that was about, all he can say is, "The way they all looked at you, came upon you so brazenly.. like cattle to the feed... it was abhorrent."

Severus does not have the gift of words when he's angry. He's brash and upfront, and says the first thing that comes to mind when his pride or know-how has been threatened. So of course you'd take offense. Doesn't he trust ypur judgment? Doesn't he know you at all? You wouldn't claim to be the smartest person in the world, but surely he knew you better than that!

But his gaze, submerged in nothing but determination and a sense of jealousy even a blind man could sense. The grip he still had on your arm did him in, though the second you actually looked down, he snatched his hand back like you'd offended him.

And that's when it clicks for you. The man really was jealous.

It was flattering at the very least.

I've only recently heard a Slavic accent for the first time and let me tell you it's so beautiful

"Of course the accent rolls of their tongue. Everybody's first language rolls of their tongue"

But you're all missing the point when I say, when it rolls of their tongue it's not like butter, no

It's like honey. Smooth. Connected. Like they're talking you through your own conversation and you don't even realize it until later. Like a young mob boss who's about to change the crew for the better. Like when you drink water straight from the source. It's natural and innate.