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Fandom Just West of Weird

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hufflepuff
7/18/1970, Monday.
Stanford Pines.

TarantulaHawk TarantulaHawk


“Look, it was a mistake! Although, if you think about it, maybe there’s a silver lining, huh?”

He was seeing red. He couldn’t see past the smoke from his broken perpetual motion machine that had somehow seemed to follow him home-

“...treasure hunting?”

Past the stupid bag of Toffee Peanuts that had been lying next to it because of his stupid brother who was standing in front of him with that stupid smile- “Are you kidding me!? Why would I wanna do anything with the person who sabotaged my entire future!?”

Not even the look of sudden realization setting on Stanley’s face at how horribly he had messed up as Ford shoved him (because Ford wasn’t the one who lashed out when he was angry- that had always been Stanley’s M.O.) could quell the monster roaring inside of him.

“You did what, you-”


His eyes shot open to the sound of his alarm. Rolling onto his side, he reached out towards the off button. The blinking green ‘6:00 a.m.’ seemed to be mocking him.

Six in the morning. Six-fingered freak.

Sixer…

No. Not today, he decided resolutely as he pushed himself out of bed, forcing the memories that loved to plague his subconscious out of his mind; forcing himself to believe that ‘not today’ didn’t happen more than he would care to admit and that it was more like ‘not ever’. Not ever thinking about Stanley- his brother, his twin, his other half; not ever knowing where he was, or what was he up to, or if he was even okay- not ever. Not ever. Stanley was fine, surely. His twin had always been more resourceful than anyone had ever cared to give him credit for…besides, Stanley had completely derailed his life. Ford didn’t need to be involved in his recklessness.

He had a master’s thesis to get a head start on, anyway.

It was the first day of his second year at Backupsmore. The first day of his sixth semester, really, and it didn’t even seem like the start of a new year considering he hadn’t left campus; he’d been loading up on classes every chance he got, which not only included the regular two semesters, but winter break and both available summer sessions. It wasn’t even that he felt like he had to push himself, even though there was a significant amount of pressure from his father to succeed, it was just nice to feel challenged for once-

Crap.

It was already 7:45. His first class was at eight, and he had wanted to get there early as to avoid getting too mixed up with the people coming in from summer vacation and the general mass confusedly swarming around campus on the first day of the semester. Plus, he had garnered a bit of a reputation and knew his teachers would want to pull him aside at some point to talk about the more accelerated work available. It was bad enough when people noticed his extra fingers and oogled (he could always see them out of the corner of his eyes); he certainly didn’t need his teachers calling him out on his achievements in front of his classmates.

Ford frantically grabbed his backpack, picking up a few extra books and tucking his thesis paper into the most relevant one in the hopes that he would have a minute to look over it at lunch. He rushed out of the dormitory into unfortunately windy weather and an even more unfortunately crowded campus.

A sea of students sat in front of him and he started pushing through as best he could, trying not to get too distracted by the whirlwind of shouting and laughing surrounding him, although he must have been doing something wrong considering one sneakily placed shoulder-check from a jock in a group of team mates and a perfectly timed gust of wind had his thesis sliding out from the book he had wedged it in; the multiple pages of carefully crafted research scattering across a stretch of campus lawn as the crowd of students started thinning out. The realization that he was going to be late to the first class of the semester was not nearly as strong as the realization that he would have to start his work all over if he lost even one page, so he started going after it- perfect attendance and the people undoubtedly staring at him be damned. What was one more horribly cringey school experience to add to the pile of millions, anyway?
 
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She was nervous, to say the least. College was a wide world compared to home. She grew up in Seattle and sure, she went to a big school, but it wasn't like she had too many friends - her closest friend was her brother, and her second closest friend was whatever book she could get her hands on. And even though this was her sophomore year, returning was always so nerve-wracking for some reason. Maybe it was because she was actually alone, now. Then again, she was planning on trying out for softball again this year, so maybe she'd actually make friends within the team this time around.

Mildred only left her dorm room once she felt satisfied in the way she looked - pale blue bell bottoms, (unfortunately dirty and well-worn) white sneakers, and a faded orange and white tie-dye shirt she had made herself that summer. From her ears dangled some feather earrings that lightly tickled her neck when her hair didn't, and something about the feeling kept her in the moment.

And the morning sun on her skin once she made it outside also helped. The bright sun and wild breeze seemed to energize her, putting a little bounce in her step. She tried her hardest to keep an optimistic outlook on life, and sometimes she had to remind herself that it was the little things that helped.

Though she felt her pleasant mood fade slightly when she spotted the crowds around campus. She was instantly reminded of one reason out of many as to why college was such a stressful environment. She wasn't much of a people person.

Which was why when she saw someone get knocked about by someone who obviously meant harm, the first thing out of her mouth was a few choice (and sort of unique) swears that her older brother had unintentionally taught her - and she ignored the laughter from people around her to swoop in and help the guy pick up whatever had started to scatter wildly in the wind.

"Are you- oop, there's one-" she lunged for a paper, careful to not wrinkle it, and she looked over her shoulder at him, "are you okay? Some people just need to- oh, so close--!"

Mildred didn't even seem to bothered by the fact that she tripped briefly over her own feet, and the edge of her jeans, as she tried to grab the scattering papers. Whatever they were, they were obviously pretty important to him and she didn't want to just ignore someone who needed help.


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He was far too invested in gathering his papers to properly realize that there was someone helping him out until said person was right in his face, handing him the few he had missed. He took the papers from their outstretched hand and frantically shuffled them together, stuffing them inside one of the books in his arms again. He could put them in the proper order later; he was going to be late for class- wait.

Someone had helped him. Someone had actually...even in college he was considered an outcast. The amount of ostracization that occurred at such a high level of education had shocked him immensely initially, but he had kept his head down in high school. He could stand another few years.

Regardless, he looked up from his books and now-crinkled research to thank whoever had stopped, expecting Fiddleford or at the very least one of the people studying the same major as him, but he froze in his tracks.

It was a girl. A pretty girl at that, who was very clearly out of his league and smiling like it wasn’t social suicide to be conversing with him. He was fully aware that he must’ve looked like he had just seen a ghost.

“Th-thanks…” he muttered, then cleared his throat, looking around awkwardly. “Thank you.”
 
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"Yeah, of course!" Mildred gave him a smile, not even noticing how nervous he seemed to be - she was used to all sorts of reactions from people at this point, and she just assumed it was because of how forward she was being. "No one else was helping, so I might as well step in. Here!"

She offered his papers to him after making sure they weren't wrinkled or anything of the sort. Mildred wasn't really thinking about the fact that everyone was walking around them hurriedly, obviously trying to get to class to avoid being late. Shamefully enough, she had been late to class before and she knew it wouldn't be the last, so at least she had a good excuse this time. And it wasn't like her grades were bad, by any means. She had fairly good grades and it wasn't like she struggled at all to maintain them.

But after a moment, she glanced around and that was only when she came to the realization of the fact they were both going to be late if they stood there any longer.

"Oh gosh, hey, what class are you heading to?" She asked, her eyes widening as she looked around at the quickly clearing campus. "We're going to be, uh, late?"

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“I-I, um…” any thoughts of his recurring nightmare were pushed out of his mind thanks to the pretty girl standing in front of him. He had never been the most confident socially, a fact that he was sure was obvious thanks to his glasses and the stack of books that seemed to be glued to his arms at all times.

“I was just- uh, I have research with Bailon.” he answered, feeling confident about their interaction ending shortly. Bailon taught advanced research and thesis development for seniors; Ford didn’t pride himself on being cocky and he wasn’t one to look for attention, but it was fairly common knowledge that the class he was heading to was difficult to get into and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking to get away from the girl talking to him.

“I should really get going, then…” he trailed off, turning to leave before he could get a response.
 
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