#An Entirely New Kind of Lost

[eruanna1875]

An Entirely New Kind of Lost (OTGW x BTTF)

Chapter One: The Photograph

For @incomingalbatross :)

~~*~~

Marty gasped, clutching at his chest, and swayed. Memories wavered in his mind—his own hand, vanishing before his very eyes; his heartbeat, fading into silence; the world around him, turning to mist, as the tick of time flatlined.

But his heart at least was beating now. In fact, it was what had startled him so when his eyes flew open. The pounding of it, as sharp in his chest as if it had never been there before. As if it didn't belong there.

Still, a pulse was a good sign. So was solid fingers, which (he doublechecked) he also had. His breathing was the only thing still a little unsteady.

A dream, he told himself, rubbing sleep and nightmare from his eye. Yeah. Yeah, that’s all it is. The whole thing was just…

His bleary vision cleared. And the truth shocked theory from his thoughts.

He wasn’t in his room in 1985. He wasn’t at Doc’s. He wasn’t in his grandparents’ house in 1955. He wasn’t even lying down. No, Marty was standing upright, dressed in this old zoot suit, in the middle of a dark wood. And he had no idea where he was.

“Doc?”

His voice sounded feeble, dwarfed in the midst of these huge, silent trees.

“Da—” He cleared his throat. “Uh, G-George? George, you here? Lorraine?”

The only reply was a distant echo. Of what, he didn’t know.

Marty shook his head, putting a hand to its side. How’d he get here? What, did Biff and his cronies knock him out, drag him into the middle of nowhere? But it didn’t make sense! It was only a minute ago he was at the Enchantment Under The Sea Dance! In fact, he was just playing the guitar, up on the stage, watching his parents as they…

As they…

“No.”

He fumbled around inside his jacket. He searched every pocket, in it or his pants. Then he searched for more pockets. His hunt came up more and more empty. His hands grew more and more frantic.

Marty’s eyes happened to glance up. And there it was. Lying on the ground, face down by the roots of a tree. He must have dropped it.

Plunging to his knees, he snatched the familiar photograph from amidst the leaves. He brushed off the specks of dirt that had dared soil it. Then, holding his breath, Marty turned it over.

It was empty.

The only thing in the picture was the little well at his aunt’s house.

No Dave. No Linda.

No him.

“No.” He folded and unfolded it. “Oh, no.” His out-of-place pulse almost stopped. “No, no, no, please, God, not—”

His voice cracked. Giving up words, he turned over, his back against damp dirt and damp tree, and buried his head in his hands. He felt the photo film against his forehead. He didn’t care.

George and Lorraine had walked away from each other. He saw it. It was the last thing he’d seen before everything faded. All his plans to get them back together, George decking Biff, him playing at the dance, all of it failed. He failed. And now, because of him, his family never came to be.

If any nightmare could’ve been worse than what happened at the mall that night, it was this.

“The Doc was right,” he murmured, voice close to failing too as his hands dropped. “I screwed up, I busted the timeline, and… now we’re all gone. My brother, my sister, me, we’re all…” His head thumped back against the tree trunk. “Geez, we’re not even dead, are we? We’re just…”

Marty opened his eyes.

Lifted his head.

Glanced around.

“Where am I?”

Uncertain, he pulled himself up. He had to brush off a vine or two first (he must’ve sat right down in a bunch of them), but he scrambled to his feet, peering at the landscape surrounding him. And… it didn’t make sense.

“Doesn’t look like Heaven or Hell,” he muttered, running through every description he’d heard, on every Sunday morning of his life. Then, a question asked itself. “Where do people go if they never existed?”

A noise, making him jolt. That didn’t sound like something that existed either. Heck, was it even human? Or would that be worse?

Heart thumping, Marty darted his glance round. No one in sight. No thing either—the noise wasn’t nearly far enough away, but it wasn’t close either. He was… safe? Or not in direct danger, at least.

But he didn’t feel safe. The trees were dark and thick about him. The faint wind tasted like no autumn he’d ever known. This place, wherever it was, didn’t look or sound or feel like anything even close to his hometown.

Everything was strange, and nothing was familiar.

“Okay,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair, “no family, no Hill Valley, no Doc. Totally new.”

A hesitance.

“What now?”

The woods didn’t answer.

Marty sighed sharply and started pacing, marching clockwise. It wasn’t right. It was even less right than spending a whole week in the wrong year. Sure, he’d gotten stranded in the past. Sure, he’d been punched by Biff and given weird looks by everybody else in town. Sure, he’d met his parents and messed up everything for them (and everybody else in his family). But at least he’d known…

His pace slowed like a clock winding down.

At least he’d known.

At least they’d been his town, his parents. At least something had belonged.

His feet almost clicked to a stop.

Now his heartbeat didn’t even belong in his chest.

“What kind of lost is this?” Marty murmured, shaking his head hopelessly. The knots in his throat refused to let him answer.

Blinking back grief, he stared at the photograph. His mind filled it with memories, the ghosts of everything lost to him. They chilled like winter down his collar. They drifted like mist in his eyes. There. Gone, forever. Ghosts.

And suddenly, one ghost came close enough to touch.

“If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything.”

Marty’s eyes widened before he even realized he’d said the words aloud. He froze. Then, a breath slipped out, almost smiling as it escaped.

The Doc had told him that. Doc told him. And, heck, Marty said it to George, too. To his dad.

Doc. Dad.

The names made his heart rise.

“I think this qualifies as anything.”

Fists clenched, Marty took off in what seemed the best direction, with stumbling steps and blind hope. What exactly he was doing, even he didn’t know. But he would do it. Or at least, now he could believe he could.

The photograph never left his hand.

~~*~~

Inspired by this post (and its reblog as well):

Not sure when I'll continue, or directly how, but I hope you liked it, my friend!

[fisherrprince]

miskellaneous

[sciderman]

howard the duck (1976) #10

[raycatz]

ground squirrel, ground squirrel, shake your bushy tail. Put out your pawww, put aaaaaall of tumblr into it, aaaaand SHOVE IT UP YOUR NOSE

[emmavakarian-theirin]

fellas we are crossing our fingers all my stitches can come out today 🤞

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[hussyknee]

Idk if there's enough people talking about what a gigantic energy drain Complex PTSD is. It's not just one single traumatic event, it's having lived in a traumatic situation for a long time. And in the case of child abuse, your entire formative life period. Everything is a trigger, anxiety is your default, and your brain keeps trying to keep you safe by yelling at you about everything you're doing "wrong", which will lead to pain. Your brain is a constant war zone, braced for attack, rarely relaxed, at least some part of you always hypervigilant. The stress it takes on your body is insane. It's why trauma is linked to autoimmune issues, heart disease, type 2 diabetes, and, according to one study, cancer.

Physical disability leaves you even more vulnerable and less able to live up to the impossible standards of control and "correct" behaviour your brain insists on, not to mention the free gift given to all patients of chronic illness that is medical gaslighting and patient-blaming, all of which simply compounds the trauma. Reduced physical and mental health obviously leads to systemic risk factors such as inability to pursue academic and professional qualifications, poverty and financial struggle, malnutrition, becoming unhoused or bad living conditions, exacerbated medical issues and further lack of medical resources, reliance on welfare and care networks, and becoming trapped in codependent, abusive or toxic relationships. The knock-on effects are endless.

This is all to say— if you're wondering why you can't seem to do more than the bare minimum every day when you haven't been diagnosed with a physical illness, or you're "not that disabled", or you think your symptoms are "just psychosomatic" (which means your brain is under so much intolerable stress that it's started taking a chair to the windows and destroying the furniture just to get you to NOTICE AND MAKE IT STOP): the answer is that your body is actually struggling under the kind of stress that kills trained soldiers and disables them for life. So stop trying to convince yourself that you're just not trying hard enough when what you really, desperately need to get your life on track is community, care, rest and ease.

[missholoska]

Is it just me or does almost every outfit in the sims 4 cottage living just seems like something Toriel would wear?

yeah that's just objectively correct tbh

pretty goat mum 💜✨

[thechaoticfanartist]

Grim & Anakin for “You’re important to me, you little shit”?

Homesick

Prompt List: &. 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

Gen

Character(s): Grim Kennet, Anakin Skywalker

Relationship: Grim Kennet & Anakin Skywalker

Word Count: 619

Grim could not tell time, it was impossible for her to figure out anything when the standard galatic calander differed so much from the one used back on Earth. She had no idea how long she had been in Star Wars. What she did know was that she had been in Star Wars for a while. At least, long enough for Obi-Wan to have grown out his mullet again. Which also meant, it had been a while since she had last been home, since she had last seen her family.

She was still trying to adjust to her new life as a Jedi. She was still struggling to find a place where she belonged, because if she was honest with herself, she wasn’t sure if she really belonged among the Jedi. They were the heroes of stories, and she was just a nerdy kid who happened to one day appear in their universe. She didn’t really fit in with the other Padawans, who had grown up at the Jedi Temple.

Somedays, like today, when she was really feeling homesick, she would find a quiet place at the Temple and sit down with her sketchbook, drawing all sorts of things from her home. She had failed to notice, however, that she wasn’t entirely alone this time. Anakin walked over to her, “I didn’t know you liked to draw,” he said.

She slammed her sketchbook shut, feeling a little embarrassed, as if he had caught her writing in her diary instead. She looked up at him and smiled a little awkwardly. “Oh, yeah, I do. Sorry, you startled me for a moment, Skywalker.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, Tiny. If it’s alright for me to ask, what were you drawing?”

Her smile fell and her hands covered the sketchbook. She looked down at them, finding a sudden interest in her gloves. She was quiet for a long moment, and Anakin seemed to take it as a sign she didn’t want to tell him.

“Nevermind,” he said.

“No,” she sighed. “Do you promise not to think I’m ‘attached’ to the past or anything like that?”

He sat down next to her. “Of course,” he said.

“I was drawing a park I used to go to before I was a Jedi,” she told him. “I’ve been drawing a lot of things like that recently. It’s hard to explain to anyone else really, everyone here joined the Jedi when they were so young that they hardly know any other life. I had a life outside of this, and it wasn’t that long ago at all. I guess I just feel a little homesick.”

“You’re not the only one, Tiny,” he told her. “I joined the Jedi older than everyone else as well, at least until you came along. I also had a life outside the Order. It’s good that you have happy memories of your home before this one.”

“Can I really call this place home? I’m sorry, Anakin, I just don’t feel like I belong here sometimes. I was just some kid until…” she trailed off, having almost mentioned her sudden appearance in another universe. “Until Master Kenobi found me,” she said instead. “I was never amazing at anything, I just had an ordinary life, with an ordinary family. Now, I’m here, at the Jedi Temple, and I’m the Padawan of Obi-Wan Kenobi, I’m friends with you, and it just doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel like I belong as a part of that.”

“Hey, Grim, you belong here. You’re important to me, you little shit.” He playfully ruffled her hair.

She laughed, and then grinned at him. “Thanks Skywalker, you’re important to me too. I’m glad I have you as my friend.”

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed) : @padme--amygdala @soclonely @mrfandomwars @jgvfhl @starlonkedd @shinhatigf @togrutanduin @jedi-valjean @one-real-imonkey @traygaming @aiylasdrawings @keoxus  @dykerebel @veiled-in-stars @sentineljedi @spicysucculentz @amelia-song-pond @it-was-rose @saturnsokas @thejediprincessqueenofnaboo @veradragonjedi @arrthurpendragon @shrinkthisviolet

[majorasnightmare]

sits here thinking about all the fic ideas i have for my durge and isobel and punches a hole in the drywall because i have unmedicated Cant Focus Disorder

[libelelle]

rare time twins au thought after 100000 years: silver getting so stressed out by the future being fixed and a new happy version of him taking his place in the timeline that he runs away to the past with all intention of staying there. he shows up with really vague excuses and ends up staying with Tails or Amy or something. everyone's on edge cause Silver almost never shows up without BOOM KABLAM DISASTER!! but nothing happens and he's been weirdly avoidant about how the future is

[bigbraveboop]

who up thinking about phoenix wright

[srkgirlblogger]

.

[fruitsclipper]

Hello! I'm sorry if this is out of the blue, but how'd you get so good at crochet? Your doily looks amazing! I can knit very simple stuff and I've been meaning to pick up crochet, but knit/crochet language for projects can be confusing lol. Also how's your day been?

ahhh i've been crocheting for like 4... and a half? years or so now ... so i think a big part of my skill is just lots of practice! back when i was starting out (learning the stitches) i would make soooo many little "test" swatches to make sure my tension is even, that all the stitches look uniform etc. ^_^ but even still whenever i do a flat project i always make the foundation chain too tight... sob

some written patterns get really confusing with all the abbreviations and whatnot :( if you're lucky sometimes there's charted patterns which might be less confusing. plus it's kindof like a visual guide to see what and how each row/ round will look instead of just. guessing

i've been meaning to get into knitting but having two needles to deal with instead of just one hook is like @_@ too much at once!! afghan/ tunisian crochet is similar to knitting i've heard but idk enough about knitting to say for sure lol

my day's been alright! i packed up some of my stuff for moving back in2 my dorm... classes start back up for me on monday + move-back-in is tomorrow. yaay 🎉

[luffysbasement]

hello, i'm finally distancing myself from mcyt :]

it's been really fun!! i loved drawing for everyone, for my interest and esp just interacting with you all. this fandom brought me my friends and different experiences and emotions that are rly unforgettable but i think it's time. thank you for everything, i appreciate you all! ♡♡ pls do stay safe and take care of yourselves!

(my art will remain here ofc but i will most likely be turning this blog into how it was before, multifandom, personal and just a bunch of whatever!)

[jeonqkooks]

‘nothing new’ by taylor swift 🤝 ‘used to be young’ by miley cyrus: songs that make me want to google the nearest cliff