I'm Nikki. This blog is an outlet for my Back to the Future and Family Ties ramblings. 100% against "Mammett"; don't come near me with that nastiness. Knickynoo on AO3. Gifset/analysis requests are open.
Here’s a collection of some of my analysis & commentary posts on BTTF & Family Ties. I’m going to pin it to my page & try to keep it updated as I write more. Note: It’s not an exhaustive list. These are just the more prominent ones.
Back to the Future
LINK TO ANALYSES/RAMBLINGS MASTER-LIST PART 2! (because tumblr only allows 100 links per post lol)
Headcanons
Doc & Marty Friendship Mega-Post
Doc & Marty Name Game
Twin Pines Lot Scene
“Thanks.” “Thank you!” : 1955 goodbye hug
A McFly Family Dinner
“It’s romantic nonsense!” : Doc’s part III arc
Marty McFly: Polite Boy
Marty “The Hair” McFly : A ridiculous headcanon that definitely falls under the category of nonsense rather than analysis, but I had so much fun writing it that I’m including it here & no one can stop me.
“I’m really gonna miss you,” : The other 1955 goodbye scene
“If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything.”
Seamus McFly
Saying goodnight at the McFly house
Marty sees the DeLorean get struck by lightning
Marty the Parrot
Get Thee Back to the Future highlights
Marty & Jennifer Headcanons
Marty + “Wait a minute”
Do Improved! George & Lorraine approve of Doc?
Highlights from Doc’s DeLorean Owner’s Manual Book
Einie Headcanons!
Marty’s ADHD
Marty’s Self-Esteem Issues
Doc’s Letter (Pt III)
Marty Adopted AU
How long did it take Marty to trust Doc?
Doc being neurodiverse headcanon
Marty in the new timeline + Comic book Jennifer
Marty and Clara headcanons
What if Doc had died in the parking lot + what if Buford had killed Marty?
When you've been away from a fic for so long that when you finally decide to go back to writing it, your notes have become indecipherable, and you have to sit there, flipping back and forth between the pages attempting to make sense of them and reorient yourself in your own story.
Hi, hello, I've returned to "A House of Cards" after six months. I had done so much planning, scrutinizing timelines, and vaguely outlining chapters, and am now sitting here like "???????"
And I do my planning and write the outlines by hand, but there is zero organization. I'm talking 10 pages in a row of various versions of the story's timeline/chapter order, followed by like, 25 skipped pages for some inexplicable reason, then a rough draft of a chapter I began writing months ago and abandoned, plus various post-it notes and other chapter outlines scattered throughout the book randomly.
Marty Mcfly is the best protagonist because he’s simultaneously so awkward and so cool. He says insane ominous things to strangers. He has the goofiest run I’ve ever seen. He plays loud music no one gets. All the women are in love with him. All the men are impressed with him or threatened by him. The children look at him like he’s the coolest person in the world. His name is Marty Mcfly. That’s such a sick name.
Does anyone want a no-context snippet from a Marty Mania fic I'll probably never finish?
(AU by @bubbiegummie)
“So, here’s the guest room, which, uh, I guess has sort of become my room,” Marty said.
He gestured to a made bed in the corner. Then to the inflatable mattress on the carpet.
His counterparts, McFly—I don’t give a shit if my step-father forced my mom to change it; McFly is our real family name—and Martin—I haven’t gone by Marty since I was five-years-old; it’s a childish nickname—stared at the room. They both looked unimpressed.
“I’m taking the bed,” Martin decided.
“Fine.”
Marty led them to the dresser. On top was a crate of vinyl records and a record player.
“I have a lot of spare clothes in here. Uh, you guys can borrow some pajamas for the night. Don’t touch my music.”
“I would never; it’s contraband,” Martin assured.
“And your taste is lame,” McFly added, eyeing the titles.
Marty groaned.
His current situation was stressful enough already. Their realities were on the verge of folding and collapsing into each other like a shaky house of cards. Doc was still working on finding a way to stabilize all three timelines before they reached the estimated point-of-no-return. After the critical period passed, the best he could do was ensure that his and Marty’s reality wasn’t the one that would be overwritten.
Understandably, Martin and McFly were not thrilled with the possibility that their realities, the worlds they knew and lived in, could be erased from existence and re-written by the rules of Marty’s. It was a heavy thing for all of them to deal with, but his other selves seemed to have no interest in trying to make coping with it easier. Those two had endless complaints about everything in his life. And if they were in the same room for much longer, they’d probably start throwing punches.
Wrapping up the end of the quick house tour, Marty told them, “Bathroom’s at the end of the hall. I’ll get you guys some toothbrushes—”
“I already have one with me,” Martin interrupted, patting his satchel.
“Huh?”
“I always bring a spare with me,” he explained easily. Then, he raised a critical eyebrow at Marty. “Do you not brush your teeth after going out to lunch?”
“Uh, no...”
Martin huffed, “Of course you don’t.”
“Right, uh, I’ll just get you a toothbrush,” Marty amended, addressing his 1985A counterpart. “And then you guys should have everything for the night.” He stepped out of the guest room. “I’ll be on the couch downstairs if you need me. If you need Doc, he and Clara are in the room next to the stairs. Oh, and if you get up at night, be quiet; Jules and Verne are in the room next to yours, and Jules gets really cranky if he doesn’t sleep enough.”
“Noted.”
“Doc will have something figured out by morning, and everything’ll probably be fine.” Marty rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, not truly convinced by his own words either. “But, uh, for now, can we knock it off with complaining for a while? It’s driving me nuts.”
“Our lives are in danger of being merged into yours,” Martin said sharply. “Seeing as this—” he hissed, gesturing openly to the house, “—may be my new life, I think it’s perfectly within my rights to complain about it.”
McFly just glowered.
“Fine,” Marty conceded, tired, “then let’s just try not to beat the crap out of each other.”
Martin nodded.
With final, “good night”, Marty left his counterparts upstairs. Once he was certain that the other two wouldn’t need to come downstairs, he quickly went to the living room to let Einstein out of his kennel. The sheepdog had spent most of the day either stuck in a closed room or in the carrier. Martin was deathly afraid of him after their first meeting. Einstein, only understanding that one of his favorite humans had somehow tripled and—more importantly—was in distress, had rushed to protect them. But Einie’s desire to comfort didn’t pair well with Martin’s cynophobia. He was visibly nervous at the dog’s appearance and screamed when Einstein licked his hand. Marty’s 1986G counterpart wouldn’t calm down unless Einstein was physically removed from the room.
But with Martin not around, Marty let Einstein free. He gave the sheepdog extra scratches as an apology for keeping him locked up. After he set up the couch for bed, Marty let Einstein lay on top of him like a second blanket.
Sleep didn’t come to Marty easily. His thoughts kept wandering back to his alternate selves, hoping they didn’t kill each other overnight.
-
Martin was the first to use the bathroom after Marty left them. He dressed himself in a pair of dark sweatpants and Marty’s blue “class of ‘86” hoodie. The young man was in the middle of flossing his teeth when McFly pounded on the door.
“What's taking so long? Did you die in there?”
“You can come in,” Martin grumbled.
McFly nudged the door open with his shoulder and entered. He was wearing a gray t-shirt and black shorts. A new toothbrush was in his fist. Martin shuffled over to give him space at the sink.
For a moment, the two of them stood shoulder-to-shoulder, looking at their reflections in the mirror.
To a stranger, their differences were practically non-existent, they were basically twins.
But to the pair, the contrast was like night and day. Knowing their faces, living in their own separate bodies for more than eighteen years, they were familiar with every little fine detail in their looks. Their distinguishing features may only be marginally different, but they could both easily see the distinctions.
Martin’s skin was paler and always carried a faint scent of hand soap. His nails were clean and short. His fingers had no calluses and their dexterity were apt for typing—not playing a guitar. His hair was cut neatly. It was a bit fluffy, but mostly tame. He had light red marks on the bridge of his nose from where his glasses had been sitting all day.
McFly’s face was littered with tiny healed cuts. His nose was slightly crooked, never fully aligned again after getting broken in a particularly intense fight with his stepfather. His hair was longer and it was messy. The odors of smoke and ash clung to the fabrics of his clothes. There was grime underneath his nails. His arms had a rainbow of different colors, the blues and purples and yellow-greens of bruises and the reds and pinks of fresh cuts. His hands rested as fists instead of resting loosely by his side.
They looked so alike and, yet, were so different. The same individual, shaped by a life of unique forces out of their control. A glimmering of understanding passed between them.
The moment passed as quickly as it came. Once McFly finished brushing his teeth, their bickering resumed.
“You are not done yet. That was barely thirty seconds,” Martin scolded. “And clean the sink when you’re finished.”
McFly did neither of those things. Instead, he flipped off his counterpart and he stomped back to the guest room.
When Martin returned to the room, he found McFly lounging on the air mattress, considering the ceiling. His jacket was draped over his pillow and his head rested on top of the black leather.
“Do you think First Cit—? Do you think Doctor Brown will have our timelines fixed before tomorrow night?”
“Probably not,” McFly grunted.
“I think th—”
“But I don’t care.”
“What?”
“I don’t care,” he repeated. “My Hill Valley is a complete shithole. If everyone there had their lives re-written to be like the ones people had here, it’d be an improvement for a lot of them.”
“Well, my Hill Valley is not some—some backwater suburbia. Decades of work towards building the perfect society is going to be wasted. I can’t believe you’re fine with all of this.”
“You’re really not a fan of getting re-written, huh?”
Martin sighed. “You don’t understand how far behind this world is to mine.”
“Enlighten me, genius.”
“First of all, this place is filthy,” Martin began, counting everything on his fingers. “There’s garbage on the streets, no protective coating on buildings—all the graffiti here is basically permanent, everyone still drives cars, there’s only one type of recycling, and there’s no community service system to maintain town cleanliness and ensure citizens are responsible for their civic duties.”
Martin took a deep breath.
“And the number of corruptive materials that are legal to possess here is absurd,” he continued, “I’ve seen people with alcohol, cigarettes, chewing tobacco, bubblegum, pot—”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute, hold on,” McFly said, putting a finger up. “Did I hear that right? Is bubblegum illegal in your town?”
“Of course, it’s—”
“You’re kidding!”
“—prohibited, and so are circus peanuts, and dogs, and—”
“Christ,” McFly laughed, “you’re from the most rigid, uptight place I’ve ever heard of. Why the hell do you want to go back there?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your Hill Valley sucks. What do you guys do for fun? Watch paint dry?”
Martin rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t have expected you to understand. Just know this: my town’s citizens are good people. We have one of the lowest crime rates in the entire country—I know you can’t say the same. Our town is a model society, and I can't, in good conscience, stand by and let all of it disappear.” He gave McFly a stern look. “So, if you’re not going to help to prevent our timelines from merging into this one, then don’t get in my way when I try to stop it.”
McFly squinted at him. “What makes you think you can fix all of this if that old man can’t?”
“Believe me, I have the highest faith in Doctor Brown, even if he’s...different from First Citizen Brown. But we’re more likely to succeed if I assist him. I've been training for a position like this my entire life, and it helps that I’m an honors student, too.”
“God, you're such a nerd.”
Martin stepped over to the air mattress to look down at his other self. “At least I have a future,” he said coldly.
The light in McFly’s eyes vanished. He rolled over on the air mattress, turning his back towards Martin.
“How ‘bout we both shut up and try to sleep so I don’t punch you in the face?”
“Fine by me,” Martin said, returning to his own bed.
“Good.”
Martin picked up his satchel from where it was placed by the folded pile of his old clothes. He started to empty it, neatly stacking its contents on the nightstand. Out came his pens and pencils, his notebooks, his calculator, a packet of algae cakes he was saving for later, his citizen ID, and—what he had been looking for—a sleek black digital watch.
Putting his glasses back on, Martin began to methodically press buttons on the side of the watch. A sharp little beep emitted with each careful click. The silence of the room was broken by a dragging rhythm of electronic tones.
McFly slowly rolled over. “If you don’t shut that thing off…”
Martin sighed. “This thing is a Citizen Plus wristwatch.”
“And?”
“And it’s a revolutionary piece of technology—” another beep, “—this watch is going to change everything.”
“I bet it will,” McFly drawled.
“Your bet is correct—not that it’s moral to gamble.” After a satisfying chirp finally came from the watch, a little triumphant smile formed on Martin’s face. It quickly fell as he turned towards his counterpart. “Here, take a look,” he said, holding it out. “You should try it on.”
Isn't it kind of crazy (and telling) that you never get to hear Marty laugh once in the whole trilogy? We have no idea what it sounds like
Okay, wait. This made me have to stop and think for a while because you're right! We definitely see Marty happy at times—he smiles and excitedly exclaims things—but we don't really get any audible genuine laughter.
Except! In this scene, which is perhaps the only time in the trilogy we actually hear Marty laugh.
It's weird, because I was thinking about how there has to be other moments in the trilogy where he laughs, because I can hear it in my head, but I think I'm thinking of Alex P. Keaton.
Thanks for the ask! This was an interesting discovery.
Back to the Future Part III (1990) | Back to the Future #11 (2016) | Back to the Future (1985) | William Shakespeare's Get Thee Back to the Future! by Ian Doescher | Back to the Future: The Game, Episode 5: OUTATIME (2011) | Back to the Future: The Game, Episode 1: It's About Time (2010) | DeLorean Time Machine: Doc Brown’s Owners’ Workshop Manual (2021) | Back to the Future #15 (2017) | Back to the Future: The Game, Episode 4: Double Vision (2011) | Christopher Lloyd in interview with the Toronto Star
I've been away from this blog for so long that I feel like I need someone to compile me a list of notes containing anything important I missed. My love for BTTF isn't gone, it was just dormant for a while, and other things took up my focus and energy.
I've noticed several new BTTF blogs floating around, so hello to you all!
Also sorry to anyone who sent asks in like the last 3 months. I'll see if I can get around to answering some of them this weekend.
I always feel bad for Marty that people barely seem to notice him during the Earth Angel scene. I get that no one knew about the whole "time traveler about to be erased" thing, but you'd think the band's guitarist suddenly acting all disoriented and then collapsing onstage should still get some people rushing over to check if he needs an ambulance or something.
Yes, this is something I think about during that scene too! It's really just the other guys on stage who notice something is off, and even then, they aren't concerned enough to do anything. Everyone is just so wrapped up in love and focused on their slow dancing that the guy actively disappearing on stage isn't even a blip on their radar 😂
Glad to see you're back. I was getting worried about you. - inevitablemoment
Glad to be (somewhat) back. I'm sure my engagement around here will pick up after I read MJF's new book that's out soon and see BTTF in theaters at the end of the month.
Also, that's sweet that you were concerned; thank you. :)
