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bougiebutchbinch · 3 months

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That Trans!A-Train Concept That's Been Haunting Me, feat. a tiny bit of Deeptrain

Rating: M

TW: transphobia, queerphobia, the threat of outing, and A-Train using 'tr*nny' self-deprecatingly. No one actually gets outed, but the fear is real. Also, Homelander is a creep. I love him, but poor A-Train does not.

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“Deep. Blow A-Train.”

The world sharpens into focus. Reggie had been zoning, as is his habit when Homelander starts spouting shit and everyone dislocates their damn jaws to be first to agree with him. Now though, the meeting room at the top of Vought tower is inescapable – as is the weight of Homelander’s stare. That’s settled on Deep, for now, but Reggie still tenses.

No way did he hear that right. Right?

“What?” asks Deep.

Homelander’s expression doesn’t change. “Did I stutter? A-Train, stand up.”

Fuck. Fuck.

Reggie refuses to let his hands shake as he pushes back his chair, though his jaw is tensed so tight a muscle ticks in his neck. Homelander’s dead-eyed gaze remains glued to Deep, as he orders him onto his knees. But Reggie knows that this isn’t a lesson (a ritual humiliation? A sadistic game?) designed for one.

The fucker knows. He knows I sold out his Nazi bitch. He knows I’m fucking sick of eating Vought’s shit. He knows fucking everything…

Thoughts race through his head, fast as he can run. His heart – still fucking weird, to think of the hunk of muscle in his chest as his – pounds so hard he’s half-afraid of going into cardiac arrest again.

Hell, that might be a blessing. It’d get him out of this.

Deep looks up at Reggie with big spooked eyes. A silent communion passes between them. The only choice being exercised here is Homelander’s. They don’t get a say. They’re just… puppets. Fucking hand-puppets, with Homelander’s fists lodged wrist-deep.

“Sexuality’s just a spectrum,” mumbles Deep, pinching Reggie’s zipper. “Right, bro?”

Reggie rolls his eyes to the ceiling and lets them linger there. Behind his zipper, he’s dry and clenched and fucking terrified. On the outside though? Chill as a New York winter.

He has to be. The only thing worse than being publicly outed, like Maeve, is showing that you give a fuck. If you give a fuck, they can hurt you. Reggie learnt a long time ago that it’s safer to never give anyone that kind of power over you.

Down goes the zipper. Reggie doesn’t flinch at the rasp, but only because he’s doing his utmost to mentally evacuate his body, blowing out like he's emptying himself, watching from a distance, preparing for the inevitable –

“Get the fuck up,” snaps Homelander. He looks disgusted. Like he didn't just order them into these positions, on the implicit threat of burny, lasery death.

Deep springs away, relief shining bright on his dumb-bitch face. But he frowns when he notices Reggie’s hands (stupid fucking hands) wobbling too much to pull up the zipper. Doesn’t mention it though.

Thank fuck. Reggie hates the guy, not least because he’s thick as a post-pepperoni-meatfeast shit, but at least he has the sense to keep his mouth shut. It’s prey instinct, or something. The two of them cower like fluffy li’l bunnies under the piercing stare of an eagle, hoping that if they’re small enough and quiet enough, he’ll fly on by.

Reggie adjusts his packer in his boxers. He finally wrestles up his fly, and scurries back to his seat. Deep follows him. As Homelander launches into a diatribe against brown-nosing, Deep leans over.

“I wouldn’t have actually done it,” he whispers. Reggie just shakes his head and goes back to staring at nothing at all.

He’s first to leave once they're dismissed. It’s tempting to amp up the super-speed and sprint to his apartment, but caution drags teeth along the back of his neck.

Don’t show him that he got to you. Don’t show it. Don’t…

Homelander knows. That’s the worst part. He'd known ever since A-Train’s debut, back when he was all bright-eyed and shiny and unruined by the world. Like all of them start out. During Reggie's first week at the tower, the jackass cornered him in an elevator. He loomed over him, hands clasped behind his back, and breathed.

“My, oh my,” he said, head cocked to one side. Curious, almost. Like a scientist dissecting a bug. “Aren’t you excited. All this fame and power really does it for you, hm?”

Reggie hadn’t understood what he was saying. Yeah, he was revved. Sue him, he’d just come from his biggest press conference yet – fucking killed it, for the record. He’d made a save a few minutes beforehand (carefully staged, rehearsed, and captured from the optimal angles), and swaggered onstage to an eruption of applause so loud it was like Mt Saint Helens had gone for round two.

“Yeah, bossman,” he’d said, flashing a grin. “Happy to be here, I guess?”

“I’ll say. You're practically dripping.”

Reggie’s smile had frozen on his face. “Um. What?”

Homelander settled back on his heels, smiling blandly at the mirrored inside of the elevator doors. “Your cunt. It’s wet. I can smell it.”

Reggie felt like he’d grown twenty inches since strutting off stage. With those words, that extra height crumbled. Everything slowed down, like when he blurred into hyperspeed. It was always a strange feeling. Not like he’d sped up, but like the rest of the world had simply… stopped.

Homelander’s voice though? That just kept on going.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going to tell. Why would I? It’d hardly be good for our viewings if one of us was revealed to be some sort of degenerate…” A dismissive shrug. “Whatever-you-are. Just take this as a reminder, hm? My team can enjoy whatever scratches their itches, but I do insist upon discretion.”

The elevator pinged, doors reeling open. Homelander winked – fucking winked – and strode out, leaving Reggie battling the urge to run and run and run, until Vought tower was lost to New York’s bustling skyline.

Eight years on T at that point – he’d started before he and Nate put their all into this superhero shit. Before he and his big brother took apart plain ol’ Reggie Franklin and built A-Train in his place. And for what?

Homelander sussed him with a fucking sniff.

He hasn’t brought it up since. Reggie has done his utmost not to give him a reason to.

It sickens him to think about. There’d be a media circus, like with poor fucking Maeve. Debates too, where he’d have to defend his continued presence in the Seven to their shareholders (are trans guys as marketable as lesbians?)

No one can be normal about a dude with a cunt. Ridiculous, really. For Reggie, it’s as normal as breathing.

He wants to be A-Train, fastest in the world. Not A-Train, fastest in the world, and he’s a tranny; oh my god, did you know? Let’s all sit around on a late-night chat show and discuss what’s in his pants and whether he’s a bad example for the children.

By the time he gets to his room (at normal, if slightly elevated walking speed, thank you very much) the stupid shake’s back in his hands. Reggie fumbles out his phone as soon as the door shuts. Opening his chat with Nate still happens on muscle memory, though Nate hasn’t replied to his messages in over a month.

Reggie types out a dozen versions of ‘I know you hate me and I know I deserve it and I know I fucked up and I keep fucking up, but please can I come over because I need a fucking hug from my brother’ before giving up. He backspaces the last half-formatted string of text and throws the phone on the bed, then follows it, flopping his face down in the pillows.

He hates the racist pig, but he can’t deny Bluehawk’s heart is doing a decent job. Better than his old one would’ve. He's still in tachy, no doubt about it, but there’s no warning clench in his back and down his left arm, no yawning sinkhole of dread.

He survived. Nothing happened. Nobody knows his secret but Homelander – unless he’s forgotten, which Reggie wouldn’t put past him. A-Train’s so far beneath his notice he’s practically an ant.

He doesn’t need coddling. He doesn’t need Nate. He doesn’t need anyone.

He focuses on the breathing exercises Popclaw used to make him do, until thoughts of Popclaw well up behind his eyes, along with every other fucking thing that’s gone wrong in his life. Or rather, everything he’s done wrong. Killing Campbell’s girl. Snitching on Supersonic. Not walking away from Vought while Nathan could still use his fucking legs…

Suffice to say, by the time the thump sounds at his door, Reggie is way redder around the eyes than anyone is allowed to see but the miserable face in the mirror. He unpeels himself from his damp pillow, dragging on his sunglasses.

“Fuck off!” he yells, in vague hope that’ll work. No such luck.

“Uh,” comes Deep’s low, nervous voice from the other side of the door. “Knock knock? We good, bro?”

“What part of fuck off sounds good to you?” But he’s already dragging himself to the door. Deep might be a dipshit. Might be a goddamn serial rapist with a fetish for sea creatures – but right now he’s also the closest thing to a friend Reggie’s got.

And – fuck. If that ain’t an indictment of the sorry state of the world…

Deep strolls in like he owns the place, thumbs tucked in his waistband. Reggie spent enough time studying the boys at the park, mirroring their swagger, to recognize how he’s bigging himself up.

“So,” he says, all gruff. He’s made his voice deeper, too. “That was fucking crazy, yeah?”

“Just the usual bullshit,” says Reggie, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Homelander’s screwing with us. S’how he gets his kicks.”

“Yeah.” Deep scratches the back of his head. “But you seemed… I dunno. Rattled?”

Why does he have to be a dumbass until it inconveniences Reggie most? “What’s weirder – to be freaked out by him ordering us to do that shit, or to just get on your knees?”

Deep shrinks back, eyes all big like Reggie kicked his pet lobster. Power rushes through Reggie: the sharp-tasting satisfaction of being able to hurt someone just with his words. It feels staler than it used to.

“Hey, I didn’t wanna get lasered. I’m not a queer or anything, yeah?”

“No shit,” drawls Reggie. They have different words for the sort of freak Deep is. Like fish-fucker. And pretty sure that’s a felony. “Is that all?”

Deep shrugs. “Just wanted to make sure we’re good, bro.”

I’m not your bro. But he’s the closest Reggie has to a brother too, since Nate decided he wasn't worth his spit. Even though he hates Deep's gill-slit guts and doesn’t trust him an inch.

“Yeah,” he says, sidling closer. Budging his shoulder against Deep so their biceps rest together, just for a moment, before pulling away. “We’re good. We were just playing along so we didn’t get lasered. Like you said. Now fuck off back to your aquarium.”

Deep flips him double-birds as he leaves, but his usual gormless grin is back on his face. Reggie does his best to match it.

Once Deep’s gone, he returns to his phone, tapping out a quick message to Nate and hitting send before he can wuss out.

Stay safe. I’m sorry.

That echoes all the other sorries that end his other messages, reeling up and up the one-sided text chain into infinity.

Funny, how Reggie never used to utter apologies, if he could help it – and certainly didn’t mean them, if he did. Nowadays, it feels like he can’t repeat them enough.

He selects another contact, one recently added, disguised with a picture of a massive pair of tits. This is both to dodge suspicion, should any of the Intel snoops peek at his phone, and because… well, what sorta whack-ass name is Mother’s Milk, anyway?

Just got out of a meeting, he sends. He absorbed enough of Homelander’s delusional rambling to pass on, even if it provides the Boys with no further information than ‘after executing anyone who dared stand up to him, Homelander’s suddenly decided he’s sick of sycophancy’. Still, his thumbs hover over the keys a full minute before he commits to the next words – we should talk.

#A-Train #the boys #reggie franklin #the boys s4 #the boys season 4 #homelander #the deep #reginald train #my art #my fic #bbb creates #author is trans

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menwhomakemehard · 3 months

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MEATFEAST PLEASE!

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ogzieoggleton · 5 months

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Any garm favorite food ?

Garmadon's fav food?

...

"Pizza."

Garmadon enjoys pizza (meatfeast and haiwian), chicken drumsticks, and some good old burnt stake!

Thank you for the ask- I'm wondering if I should keep drawing for each ask I get..

#lord garmadon #garmadon #ninjago #ninjago garmadon #ask me anything #ninjago headcanons

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envydean · 1 year

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For the prompt thing: being caught kissing (destiel :3c)

Destiel | 726 | fluffy coming out to friends 🥰 thanks for the ask!! Kinda inspired by heartstopper but Dean and co are about 18-19 years old.

(AO3)

~~~

It's not a Halloween party, even though Charlie kept saying it was. There are maybe seven of them there, eight when Cas finally rings the doorbell and shows up, settling between Charlie and Jo as the film starts. Dean tries not to feel disheartened that the space he's kept free just for his friend isn't taken up. Instead, Ash shuffles in until they're squashed between the couch and scattered on the floor cushions. A coffee table between them all and the TV is filled to the edges with popcorn, cupcakes and drinks.

Dean had a generous helping of vodka in his first drink while he anxiously hoped and waited for Cas to turn up, but since then has only stuck to soft drinks.

Halfway through their second horror movie, Ash's choice — some awful gorefest that's not scary — Dean hears Cas asking Charlie where the bathroom is.

"I'll show you," Dean chips in, possibly a little too eager but the vodka has left him buzzed.

"Thanks, Dean."

Dean is steady on his feet as he leads Cas out of the living room and up the stairs.

The bathroom door is at the end of the hallway but Dean catches Cas' hand before he reaches it, turning him against the wall.

"Hey," Dean whispers.

"Can I pee first?" Cas asks with a smirk.

Dean lets him go.

They've been dating for a couple of months, stealing kisses where they can and just enjoying spending time together. None of their friends know yet but they all assume Dean's straight anyway, he's going to tell Charlie tonight, then there's no way it'll be a secret.

Cas comes out the bathroom with a gentle smile on his face and he slides back into position against the wall, facing Dean.

"Did you wash your hands?" Dean asks.

Rolling his eyes, Cas answers that he did.

With that Dean laces his hands with Cas' and presses him up against the wall.

It's risky maybe, but they've not seen each other all week and Cas wasn't even sure if his older brother would let him come. So having him here, now, like this is perfect.

Dean captures Cas' lips with his own, biting a little at Cas' bottom lip. Cas grunt's quietly in response and deepens their kiss.

Dean untangles one hand, sliding it up Cas' arm, to his shoulder and then his neck where he tries to pull him in impossibly closer. The slow and sensual has given way to pure desperation and it's so easy to get lost in one another.

"Holy shit!"

They break apart suddenly, chests heaving from both the panic of someone finding them and the amount of effort they were putting in.

Charlie is facing them with her mouth agog in some kind of comic surprise.

"Charlie... I—"

"I knew it!"

Dean glances at Cas and then back to Charlie when he doesn't find any reaction from him. "You knew?"

"How dumb do you think I am?"

Dean's speechless but Cas takes over almost seamlessly.

"We don't think you're dumb. Dean wanted to tell you tonight."

"You've been messing around for months and you're cutesy little hesrt-eyes for each other haven't gone unnoticed."

"You're not mad?" Dean asks finally, squeezing Cas' hand.

"Why would I be mad?"

Dean thinks for a moment, but then shrugs.

"Clearly you are the dumb one, and I say that affectionately," she says. "Anyway, we're ordering pizza in time for the next movie and you were taking too long. Ash wanted to get you a shared Hawaiian."

"He what!?" Dean rages.

He still hasn't let go of Cas' hand when he drags him back down the stairs and demands the meatfeast instead.

"Alrighty, meat-man," Ash teases.

Cas chuckles.

As they all settle back down again, this time with Cas sharing one of the floor cushions with Dean, thet start the last part of the current movie.

"Me and Cas are dating, by the way." Dean makes the announcement at the next quiet part as the characters on the film sneak their way into the woods.

The rest of the group smile and congratulate them on their dating status, it's all genuine and Dean's not sure why he was so worried about it. He's glad it's out now and he and Cas can chill in each others pockets for the rest of the night.

#eobardthawneallen #answered #fanfic #destiel #jenny writes #supernatural

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evilneo · 4 months

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i went to sambucas yesterday and got a pizza with jalapenos on and it was SOOOOO good. meatfeast too....

#neo.txt

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ifisthemiddlewordinlife · 1 year

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Wild caught salmon on planks cooking over an open fire

Credit: derekwolfcooks

#grilling #bbqnation #bbqporn #bbqsmoker #bbq #pastrami #meatfeast #grillmasters #bbqfamily #bbqmaster

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writing-rat · 1 year

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STRANGER THING’S FAVOURITE PIZZA

Dustin - Meatfeast

Joyce - Veggie

Hopper - Meatfeast

Mike - Margherita

Eleven - Pineapple

Lucas - Sausage

Nancy - Pepperoni

Jonathan - Chicken feast

Karen - Margherita

Will - Meatfeast

Steve - Hot and spicy

Max - Veggie

Robin - Margherita

Erica - Chicken and ham

Murray - Any weird combo

Argyle - Pineapple

Eddie - Pepperoni

Barbara - Sausage and pepperoni

Tommy - Sausage

Jason - Meatfeast

Vickie - Veggoe

Angela - Margherita you plain bitch

Fred - Chicken

#stranger things headcanons #ratboy writes #ratboy writing #stranger things

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jessyspizzatruro1 · 2 months

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#good pizza great pizza #cheese #pizza tower #pizzahead #pizzalover #showbiz pizza #classic pizza #pasta #sandwich

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bbqbutchernz · 4 months

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