#tape boy

[starscrossedonpaper]

cross posting a portion of the Sero fic I'm working on bc it's giving me brain rot a little bit & tape boi deserves much more love (imo)

“I dunno if harassing innocent people is what I’d really call fun,” was all Y/n heard before an ear-splitting ripping sound rang out and the pressure was suddenly absent from their throat.

The arm crushing their windpipe was suddenly gone, but it had also been holding them several inches off the ground.  They opened their mouth to let out a startled cry but no sound came out.  

Blinded by the sudden movement, Y/n was even further disoriented when they felt a strong gust of wind blast them directly in the face.  Still gasping for air, they found themself thrashing around to find some kind of orientation and figure out what the hell was happening.  Their head pounded even further and that last drink was threatening to make a reappearance.  

Just as suddenly, they came to a dead stop and felt the familiar grit of concrete under their palms.  On their hands and knees now, Y/n tried to get their bearings. 

Deep breaths, they repeated to themself over and over again while gratefully sucking down all the oxygen they could get without hyperventilating.

A commotion sounded in the street below over the pounding in their head.  More ripping sounds, grunting, a loud metallic bang and then-- nothing.  

One beat, then two went by.  Still nothing.

Instincts screaming at them to remain hidden, Y/n crawled over to the rooftop’s edge for a better look at the street below.  A bulky figure was just visible in the yellow light, stuck to the side of a metal dumpster, tucked in an alleyway where Y/n knew a local restaurant to receive deliveries. 

It was too far away to see the person’s face, but clear even from a distance that they were down for the count. 

Another ripping sound tore Y/n from their thoughts and they whipped around in an attempt to locate it.

Another villain? they wondered, icy fear flashing through their veins.  

Still crouched down, missing their bag and already exhausted from using their quirk after a full day’s work, they knew they weren’t cutting a super imposing figure if any other random villains had suddenly taken up a personal vendetta against her employer.  

It wasn’t unheard of, but harassing journalists and people in media relations had declined significantly thanks to the Symbol of Peace.  But things hadn’t been the same since All Might’s retirement.  The attacks’ sporadic nature made them more difficult to pin down and prevent than traditional organized crime, so while heroes and the government worked to find a silver bullet solution people in Y/n’s line of work would have to make do.  

In that moment, they found themself promising whatever powers that be: If I live, I’ll stop putting it off and finally go and take that self defense course with Stephanie -- damn it, why didn’t I go last month when I had the chance?!

A hand on their shoulder brought the spokesperson back into the present moment with a jolt. 

Y/n spun around, heart pounding, and found themself face-to-face with a tall, dark-haired figure, the faint glow of the streetlights outlining his lean yet muscular frame. 

“Easy there,” came a calm, reassuring and slightly breathless voice. The stranger’s grip on their shoulder was firm but not threatening and his dark eyes, sharp yet warm, met theirs with a steady gaze. “You’re safe now.”

Y/n blinked, trying to focus through the lingering adrenaline. The man standing before them stood with a relaxed posture despite everything that had just gone down. His jet-black hair was neatly styled, longer on top with the sides trimmed close, giving him an effortlessly cool look despite it being a little out of place following the brawl.

The man crouched slightly, bringing himself closer to Y/n’s eye level as he offered them a hand, his movements smooth and controlled. Y/n hesitated for a moment but reached out, feeling the reassuring strength in his grip as he pulled them to their feet.

“Cellophane,” he introduced himself, giving a small nod as he spoke his hero name. 

Y/n’s breath hitched as recognition dawned: This was Hanta Sero, the pro hero known for his tape-based quirk, who had just booked with Luminary Strategies a few months ago, now standing right in front of them when they’d only ever seen him online and in the company newsletter.

His hero costume was a sleek, reinforced suit, deep blue and black with high-tech tape dispensers lining his arms and legs, and the high collar of his jacket framed his face.

As Y/n steadied themself, they noticed the remnants of some strips from the earlier struggle hanging from a nearby street lamp pole, fluttering slightly in the breeze.  In the distance, they could just make out the approaching sound of sirens.

“I heard the commotion and got here as fast as I could,” Cellophane continued, his tone light but tinged with concern. “Looks like I showed up just in time.”

Y/n managed a shaky nod, still catching their breath. 

“Thank you,” they finally got out, voice hoarse.

Sero gave them a reassuring smile, drawing his hand back. 

“Just doing my job,” he replied with a casual shrug, though the intensity in his eyes betrayed the worry he held. 

What a professional, Y/n couldn’t help but think despite the bizarre situation. 

“Right.” They brushed off their pants uselessly; the dirt that had been ground into them during the struggle would take a thorough wash to get out. “So, uh, sorry to ask but how should I… you know, should I just use the stairs and make my way down or..?” 

Cellophane’s smile widened, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced around the rooftop. 

“Well, I could take you down the stairs,” he began, tilting his head slightly as if considering the idea. “But where’s the fun in that?”

Y/n raised a brow, caught off guard by the playful tone in his voice. 

Sero stepped closer, movements still smooth and deliberate with the kind of certainty that only came from moving with power. Y/n had seen it in many of the heroes they’d worked with at the Agency over the past year or so.

“How about I give you a lift instead?” the hero suggested. He extended his arm and with a quick flick of his wrist, a strip of tape shot out, anchoring securely to a nearby building.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat as they traced their gaze between the tape and Sero’s outstretched hand. 

“Are you sure?” they asked, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling up in their stomach.

“Absolutely,” Sero replied, his eyes locking onto their (e/c) ones with a reassuring steadiness. “I’ve got you.”

Whether it was the near death experience or the adrenaline or the admittedly handsome hero standing with a hand extended toward them, Y/n couldn’t stop the grin that slowly spread across their own face.

With a deep breath, they placed their hand in his, feeling the warmth of his grip. 

“Fuck it,” they said. “Alright.”

Cellophane’s touch was firm yet gentle, guiding them closer until they were standing right beside him.

“Hold on tight,” he instructed, his voice just above a whisper now. Y/n nodded, wrapping one arm around his shoulders with some guidance, heart pounding in their chest as they felt how thin the hero suit material actually was.

Sero tightened his hold on them and with a swift movement, they were airborne. 

The wind rushed past them, this time cool and exhilarating as Sero expertly maneuvered them down from the rooftop. Y/n couldn’t help but gasp at the sensation, the city lights blurring as they descended.

The ride was over almost as soon as it began, the hero landing smoothly with Y/n still tucked safely against him. He released the tape with a flick and it retracted back into his suit with a soft snap.

“There we go,” he said, his voice back to its usual lightness as he gently set Y/n down on the sidewalk. “Safe and sound. Now, gotta make sure you get where you’re goin’ without any more nasty run-ins -- can I call you a cab or somethin’?”

Y/n looked up at him. 

“Thank you, again,” they managed to say, still a bit breathless. “But I only live a few blocks away.”

Sero gave them a lopsided grin, his eyes twinkling with a mix of playfulness and something else Y/n couldn’t quite place. 

 “Anytime,” he replied, giving them a quick, reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before stepping back, the professional hero once again. “So then I’ll just escort you home -- the police are already on their way, and that guy isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.  I’ll write the report and do all the paperwork tomorrow through my agency, no big deal.”

Sero’s offer was both reassuring and, somehow, a little disarming. 

“Sure, I’d appreciate that.” Y/n wasn’t sure if it was the dizzy feeling from their last drink or the lingering adrenaline, but they found themself nodding.

read on ?

[deterioratingpisces]

Loumand argument, you will always be famous.

[asurrogateblog]

my favorite part of beach boys lore is that the beatles are the villains

[payasita]

Part of something, once (but in a practical sense, all that matters is whether theseus still recognizes the ship)

[fuzzyghost]

[coquettevampyr]

girl what kind of interview is this

[ringosmistress]

[ridethecyanide]

Recent photo of Robert at the Goodman Theater

Photo by Todd Tue

[abusivelittlebunny]

A kittycat 🐱 was called a lion for his success 🦁

Max Vernyappen

Him being a catboy irl makes him even more adorable ♡ But you know Christian Horndog can't be trusted around a pu-*gets scratched up*

Bonus smooth Maxy because I found teen Max a pretty little baby♡

This has been sitting in my drafts since before the holidays if you sent me an ask its probably got the answer in the making as well don't worry ;3

[barefootboundguy]

[blvckmvsk]

[curiousaur]

every donnie must have: 1) a bo and 2) a blep

[wolfishencounters]

why did he say any of this

[badnewswhatsleft]

thank you patrick for always sitting WAY up close to the camera so i can get snapshots like these<33

[jesuistrestriste]

art would 100% use his racket as a dildo because he’s too embarrassed to buy one

he’s grasping onto the wiring on the face of the racket to push it deeper into himself

he’s crying and whining bc it’s so much more than he’s used to but he needs to be filled up to sleep😖😖😖😖

he literally would, he’s such a secret slut. he’d take a video of that shit too and send it to you when he’s away at a tournament or something.

eyes pricking with desperate tears of arousal, cheeks flush and pressed into the hotel bedsheets as he hisses through gritted teeth at the feeling of the stretch

takes only a minute for him to adjust and then he’s fucking himself earnestly with it, pumping it deep inside and moaning like he’s gonna die if he doesn’t keep going

“mmff— uhh… ungh— feels s’fucking good, s’good, all for you, fuck me harder, faster— shit!”

every bump of his prostate sends a wave of heat through him, getting him closer, and closer, and closer. the feeling doubles when he closes his eyes and pictures the way you’re gonna touch yourself to the little tape he’s making (for your eyes and ears only)

a maid actually passes by his door and goes red in the face, thinking he’s getting absolutely railed by his partner in there. but no! just a dirty lil blonde tennis player fucking his hole with the handle of his racket + filming it on his phone so that he can text it to his s/o right after he cums all over the bedspread

[transguytruthscomic]

i cannot stress this enough but if you are taping with a large chest, the most helpful thing you can do is to work with the mass of your chest rather than against it.

don’t tape upwards; breast mass naturally falls downwards. taping upwards is making it more difficult for yourself. start your first anchor strip above your nipple and stretch the tape/shift your breast DOWN and to the side, towards the bottom of your rib cage.