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myawfulfanfictions-blog · 7 years

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This one is Cracktastic AF

Thor blinked, blank expression on his face.

“This Jesus Christ seems like a fine warrior. But once he went to Vallhala, he couldn’t be resurrected, not until Ragnarok.”

Steve shook his head patiently at his pagan team member’s explanation.

“No Thor,” he said condescendingly, pointing to the chalkboard behind him. “Jesus is the son of God.”

“Which god?” asked Thor. “I have heard that some of the gods have children with mortals, and it is very possible that this virgin Mary caught the eye of an Asgardian.”

“No Thor,” Steve repeated, pointing to a very simple family tree that had God on top, connected to Mary, with a line between them pointing to Jesus. “We must accept Jesus Christ as our Lord and Saviour and know that he is the son of G-d, king of all kings and master of the universe.”

Thor slumped in his tiny desk seat, somehow looking even more lost.

Suddenly, Tony walked in. “What? Am I gonna have to go all diva on you? Steve, there is no God! Science and lizard aliens rule all!” He stomped over to the blackboard and knocked it over.

Thor rose from his seat, staring at Tony with shock and hurt in his eyes. “You do not believe in the gods? You do not believe in me, Starkson?”

Tony balked under Thor’s sad expression. “I umm that is to say-you’re-an-alien-but-not-the-illuminati-lizard-type-ok-bye,” he ran out the door.

Steve sighed and picked up the board and resumed teaching.

“And that is why all nonbelievers will end up in the fiery pits of Hell.”

“Ah! I know of Hel and Hela my niece. But it is a dark cold place, and it seems that you are thinking of Muspelheim.”

Steve sighed and brought his palm to his face in the ancient art of showing one’s frustration.

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#i think from a prompt #religion #thor being oblivious #steve the patriot #captain america #thor #tony stark #tony stark is an insensitive prick #illuminati

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myawfulfanfictions-blog · 7 years

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I literally titled it Western Sexytimes BTF

Marty McFly was so done with all this shit. First he gets sent back to the past and has to fight his mother’s attentions and play matchmaker between her and his dad. Then he goes to the future to save his kid but old Biff screws things up and changes the past. Then he goes back to the past before his starting point to prevent young Biff from screwing things up. Then he has to go to the Wild West. Dressed like the gayest cowboy in the world.

And apparently in the wild west, sexual orientation didn’t matter much as long as a guy was on top. But the poor fool on the bottom? Well, let’s just say the slang was surprisingly similar to what they used nowadays.

It all started when he first landed/drove into the wild west and the Indians were chasing him.

They stopped and stared.

Then an old wrinkled Indian with feathers and beads in his hair dismounted his horse. He turned to Marty and spoke.

“White man sodomizer,” he said in heavily accented English.

When Marty escaped them he ran into the cavalry.

“Well I say, I’ve never seen anything quite so…effeminate,” said a mustached cavalry leader.

Hell even the bear tried telling Marty how gay he was with interpretive dance, consistently pointing to its nether regions and Marty’s ass.

And when Marty was saved by his own great-grandfather’s parents, they gave him strange looks. But the baby said it straight out. “Gaygayagay,” Great grandpa William babbled in Marty’s arms before peeing on him with a knowing look. Which is totally creepy on a baby, to be honest.

Then he went into town. Everyone stared at him, man and woman. Even the children stared.

So he entered the Saloon looking for Doc.

“Hey McFly. Ah thought ah told you t’never show yer face here again,” of course. What would time travel even be without running into a Tannen?

Then he turned around and there was a manly looking cowboy with a gang of gunslingers giddily gawking-okay, evil cowboy henchmen (Marty’s brain gets alliterative when he’s nervous).

“An’ who might you be, li’l Pansy lookin fella?”

“Marty-Clint. Clint Eastwood,” he said.

“Well ain’t he purty in pink, right fellas?” Marty blushed as another mothertrucking Tannen got into his personal space.

“Check out them teeth boss,” said evil cowboy henchman number 1. “Only a man in’erested in th’ biznis o’ pleasurin’ other folks keeps his teeth that clean.”

The men were leering at Marty.

“He’s much prettier th’n those harlo’s up there. Whattaya say we take ‘im for a spin.” Evil possibly gay cowboy henchman number 2 said.

“Hey, I am not gay. No fucking homo. Goddamit 1950s, why do your cowboy costumes have to be so gay? I ain’t no queer or ‘sodomizer’!” Marty McFly was so done with this shit.

“Now holdup sweet thang. You don’t have to say one more word. Buford here’ll decide your fate. Personally I hope to keep ya.” Evil certainly gay cowboy henchman number 3 lightly slapped Marty’s face. “Y’all are much too pretty t’ be a dead man,” he leered.

“I think you are all just sexually confused and frustrated guys who will definitely eventually give each other AIDS one day. And hey, did you say Buford? As in Buford ‘Mad Dog’ Tannen?”

Mad Dog hissed and everyone in the saloon hid. “I. Hate. That. Name. For that I’ma ride you like a dog. S’all about establishin’ that you’re stronger’n the other guy, which won’t be too hard, eh runt?”

Marty gulped and reached for the first alcoholic drink he’d ever been served, downing it in one gulp. It burned as it went down, but the liquid courage lived up to its name.

“J-just leave me alone you gay cowboys. Geez,” he said and tried to run away. Instantly he had four guns in his face. “Dance li’l runt,” Buford said and shot at Marty’s feet.

“Technically that’s redundant,” Marty whined while jumping and ducking. He decided to actually dance, distracting the men who were now salivating at his moves.

“This one’ll be great in bed,” definitely gay said.

“He ain’t a woman but he’s breathin’ an’ well-groomed,” said henchman number 1.

“After him!” yelled Buford. Indeed, Marty had used the dancing to sneak away and ran out of the saloon, short legs taking him as far away as possible. 5’4 isn’t short. It’s not!

The evil gay cowboys jumped onto their horses (not a euphemism) and rode after Marty, who was eventually captured by a lasso.

“Well lookee here. We’ve caught ourselves an appetizer. Now y’all better not get that pretty lil’ outfit’a yours dirty boy. Now stand up an’ walk behind us or we will make y’ regret it.”

Marty stood up and ran behind the horse, too terrified to even stumble.

They trotted/walked for hours before coming across a big ranch with a mansion that almost bled money.

“Please let me go,” Marty huffed. “I’m gonna pass out man.”

He was led to the stables where the horses were tied up and Buford still did not let go of the dumb lasso.

The evil gay cowboys then laid him on the stable floor and started tying his legs to some posts.

“Wait, wait! You got me, I am a prostitute. Now if you tie me up and use me you might feel as good as a horsefucker. But if you let me do my thing, you’ll have a more willing partner who will make you feel good.” Damn his dumbass mouth. At least he’d have some semblance of control if they listened, but how would he be able to tell it was rape in the future-his future-if he was initiating?

The gay cowboys looked at each other and then at Buford. “Ya bring up some good points. Displease us an’ we’ll go back t’ this. I must say, I ain’t neva seen a male prostitute before, but mah expectashins are th’ same.”

They brought him into the house, still in that damn lasso. There was a room with a vintage looking bed that was huge for the 1850s. Marty climbed onto it and noticed the cowboys holding some rope menacingly. He gulped.

“So, a-uh-a few standard procedures before we begin. One: we limit this uh sex party to the house, not the barn or stables. Two: we have some kind of lubricant and protection-”

“-Protecshin? Ah’ve got protecshin right here,” one of the confused henchmen said and held up his gun.

Marty remembered the magical immunity pill Doc made him take in 2015 that would protect him from any disease past, present, and future from his base line time (1985).

“Uh nevermind. About that lubricant though….” He trailed off, questioning.

“What kinda whore don’t carry supplies with ‘er? Th’ only lubricant in this house is water ‘n saliva. We’d love for you t’use saliva,” probably gay said, stroking Marty’s cheek.

“Right, okay. I’m a little new at this, got a family to feed, sorry.” He ducked from the man’s gaze.

“Git started boi or ah’ll tie you t’ the bedposts and fuck you dry.”

Marty sighed and got to work, remembering his alternative. He hummed a sexy tune and started dancing, the pelvic moves of the 1980s a sight for the cowboys. Gaining more confidence, he started to sing.

“I’m bringing sexy back. Yeah. Them motherfuckers don’t know how to act. Yeah…dirty babe. You see these shackles baby I’m your slave,” he gestured to the rope and pretended to tie it around his neck. “I’ll let you whip me if I misbehave,” he grabbed Tannen’s whip and playfully tapped it against his ass. “It’s just that no-one makes me feel this way.”

The men watched as he slowly stripped out of his very pink outfit and tossed it on Definitely Gay, humming the chorus.

“Ah thought you said ya’ll was new t’this. Where’d ya learn t’do that?” Probably Gay’s eyes were wide with wonderment.

“The internet. Spent a lot of time in 2015, hence Justin Timberlake.” They all looked at him confused and he gave a sexy smirk, resuming his singing-dancing-stripping routine.

Once he was naked, he had to let the men touch his body.

“Such smooth supple skin,” Hench no 1 said as he rubbed his hands up Marty’s back. Marty leaned into the touch and moaned as he’d seen girls do in the adult theater back home. He felt more hands caress him and imagined he was at home with a bunch of girls. Suddenly he was painfully hard and he could feel how hard the other men were as he clumsily rubbed up against them, grinding on their crotches. His breathing slowed and his face turned red. He then felt himself being picked up and moved away from his little pre-orgy.

“Hey, what gives?” he asked.

It was Buford who looked exactly like Biff up close, Marty noticed.

“Ah’m takin’ ‘im first. Ya’ll can have him after me.” Marty’s heart pounded with fear and…anticipation?

“Now make like a forest and g’t!” He bellowed. His henchmen left the room disappointedly.

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#back to the future #gay #consent issues #should i finish this?#fanfiction #incomplete

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