Here are some of my favorite Stangst stories that I’ve read, re-read, and collected over the past few years. Some are old ‘classics’ while some are new or still updating. They’re listed in alphabetical order by title for easier searching.
The list will be updated periodically as I find great new stuff. Newly added stories are labeled with a ++
***Please read any tags/warnings before reading, as some of these stories may deal with upsetting topics and situations***
5/23/2022 Update: Added 2 Short Stories and also 2 Epic Length ones below the cut. Also verified that all the stories in the short section are still below 10k words as of today’s date.
Ford stared at the ground, his head spinning. This wasn’t … No. This wasn’t possible. His mother’s words spun around in his brain on repeat, making it impossible to process anything else she’d said.
Stan’s missing. Stan’s missing. Stan’s missing.
It shouldn’t have been that difficult to understand. Ford hadn’t seen Stan in five years. But Ford had always known that Stan was okay. He knew his brother contacted their mom regularly, he knew that he was alive. That was enough. Stan was fine. Stan was always fine. Of the two of them, Ford was the one at a disadvantage.
Nobody’s heard from him in months. The police are saying that he’s dead, but they haven’t found a body.
“Stanford!”
“I’m here, Ma.”
“Then say something.” Tears were choking up his mother’s voice.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” That was true enough, though even to his own ears the words sounded callous. Part of him screamed at himself to mourn, to comfort his mother, to do something. But he couldn’t. His fingers were tingling and his whole body felt numb.
Stan’s missing. Stan’s missing. Stan’s missing.
“Ford, sweetheart, I want you to come home.”
Ford must have made some kind of noise of protest, because Ma continued, “I know you’re busy, but please. Please I need my family to be together right now. It won’t be for long. We need to decide what to do.”
Decide what to do? What did that mean? “He’s not dead.”
A sob came from across the line.
“He’s not. I’d know if he was dead.” Ford’s voice was raising, his hand gripping the phone tighter and tighter until it felt like it would break. “I’d feel it! He’s not dead.”
“Stanford …”
“I’m not coming home because there’s nothing to come home for!” Ford yelled. “He’s just run off to another country or pissed someone off and is laying low, or something. We’ll hear from him in a few weeks and then you’ll all be pissed that you panicked for nothing.”
“Ford, please …”
“I’m not coming.” Ford slammed the phone back on its cradle, breathing fast, his heart pounding like he’d just finished a run, not a conversation with his mother. He’s not dead. He repeated to himself. I’d know. She’s just panicking over nothing.
Ford pushed his chair back and stormed out of his dorm. He needed to walk. Needed to clear his head. Stan should have known better than to scare their mom like that. What was he thinking? He obviously wasn’t. But then again, what else was new?
He found his way to the park and sat down on a bench. It was a beautiful late fall day. He could hear children playing on the playground in the distance, bikers riding along the trails. The usual, joyful noises of life around him.
He buried his face in his hands. He’s not dead. He’s not dead! A sob wrenched itself from his throat. He’d have to find him. His ma would keep worrying until they found him, so Ford would just have to go out and bring him back. Then he’d kick his ass for making everyone worry.
Ford pressed his large palm against his heart, feeling the jagged beats of it. It hurt, which had always struck him as illogical. The heart had nothing to do with emotions, it was just a pump cycling blood through the rest of the body. There was no reason for it to ache when something bad happened. But it was aching now.
If Stan were dead, it would feel different. The pain would be different. Ford would find him, and then he could go back to pretending that Stan didn’t exist. Stanley had always been a free spirit, his mom should have known that. But just because Ford was pissed at him didn’t mean he’d just let his brother die in a hole somewhere. If Stan was really in such dire straights, he knew he could reach out to Ford. He had to know.
And if he didn’t, then Ford would just have to go and tell him.
After kicking his ass for scaring everybody.
***
Stan crouched next to his brother as Ford took deep steadying breaths. He didn’t know what the nerd was thinking, but whatever it was, it couldn’t have been good. He reached out to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, but it of course passed right through.
He’d been following his brother around for the last three days, ever since those guys had snuck up on him in that alley. His body had been tossed over a pier, but Stan had found himself in Ford’s dorm almost immediately after closing his eyes for the last time. Seemed like he had some unfinished business there or something, heh.
He didn’t mind too much. He hadn’t seen his brother in nearly five years. Being around him hurt, but not as much as being without him had. But, whatever was keeping him here, Stan would figure it out and then be on his way.
Stan just wished he knew for certain he’d be able to say goodbye.
Aaaargh! Just take it, I can’t stand to keep it any longer!
This is a Gravity Falls fic that is sort of a crossover between the Adrift AU, created by @the-subpar-ghost (although not based off the Drifting Stars fic they wrote for it), and the Dimension Jumper AU, created by @hntrgurl13, starring her OC Adeline Marks of whom I am in love with. I guess that kind of makes it a Drifting Dimensions AU, also a creation of hntrgurl13, however it does not follow the plot of that either. All in all I really have no idea how to describe this. Whatever, it’s some Portal!Ford, Portal!Mabel, and Portal!Addi adventures.
The Addiford ship, which will of course eventually make an appearance, is credited to @scipunk63, and it ruins me.
Just be aware, I have not read Journal 3, so blame any incongruities with canon on that. Even if they do not relate to Journal 3.
The sky was green in this dimension. It glowed at night, turning the buildings of the city black. Ford speculated that it was probably due to radiation rather than a natural luminescence. He decided they would move on to a safer place tomorrow; there would surely be a portal appearing nearby soon.
A slap on his hands brought him out of his thoughts.
“Grunkle Ford! Attennnnntion! I don’t see those hands moving mister!” Mabel drilled.
Grinning, he replied, “Sorry sir, I was planning out tomorrow’s route so we can avoid sleeping in an alley again,”
They had indeed set up for the night in a back alley among several dumpsters. Mabel inclined her head as she looked around from their position on the ground.
“Well, it’s not toobad, I suppose. I mean, look! Weird, gooey substances!”
Ford eyed the viscous liquid near them with barely concealed disgust.
“Alright, no lying on the floor,”
“Are you gonna be my pillow tonight?”
“Definitely.” He leaned back against the brick wall of a nearby building and opened his arms for his niece to clamber into. While he was arranging the blankets around them, Mabel jerked up once more.
“Wait! I didn’t finish teaching you tick-tack-toe,”
Smiling, Ford eventually appeased Mabel and convinced her to sleep with the promise that they would resume the lesson in the morning.
“Okay then.” She snuggled back into the makeshift nest and nudged him slightly, indicating she wanted more warmth. Happy to comply, he wrapped his arms around her. Ford felt guilty allowing even the merest trace of the thought to cross his mind, but at times like this he was indescribably grateful that Mabel had fallen into his life. He could not imagine it without her now.
“’Night,” Mabel murmured.
“Goodnight,” Ford responded softly.
“Don’t let the trash monsters bite,” his niece continued. The quiet laugh that answered this sent her off to sleep.
⃝
“Dammit,” Adeline said, banging the transmitter against her thigh. The blue pulse that was supposed to be emitting from the screen resolutely fizzled yet again.
Crap signal, flitted through her mind. She was too tired for this.
Sighing, Addi crossed the street, alternating between keeping an eye on the transmitter and the few citizens still shambling around at this late hour. The device crackled slightly, its light strengthening as she moved. She stepped into an alley and the signal picked up considerably.
“Yes!” A little further along and she could read the message clearly.
Let’s see what they have to say …
Movement. Behind her, something was moving. She was certain of it. Trying to act casually, as though she was absorbed in reading, she reached over her shoulder under the pretence of scratching her neck and tapped a button on the hilt of her wicked sharp sword. At the same time her eyes flicked up to the dumpster she was facing. Its metallic surface dimly revealed a figure standing up slowly behind her. They were drawing their gun.
Okay then.
In one smooth movement Addi drew her sword, whipped around – and stopped dead in shock as the past glared back at her.
“Stanford?”
His hair was grey now, but that was no surprise. It had been thirty years after all. As he moved around so that his back was no longer to the wall, she could tell he knew exactly how to use the weapon he kept trained on her. He had traded in a scientist’s suit for a more practical fighter’s trousers and boots, which was also not entirely unexpected – you had to adapt to life on the other side of the portal. He was clutching a child tightly to his side. Now that was very different.
“Who sent you?” Adeline’s old boss demanded.
“I – no one. What are you doing here?” The reply was unpredictable enough to cause him to falter.
“What do you mean ‘what am I doing here?’” he recovered. “This alley isn’t private property! How do you know who I am?”
A flash of annoyance shot through Addi.
“I’m sorry? The person you built the first ever interdimensional portal on Earth with has escaped your memory?”
The girl next to Stanford gasped. “Mr McGucket? How did you find us? Wait a minute, you look a little different.” She frowned critically at the athletic blonde woman.
Now completely nonplussed, Addi stared again at Stanford. He looked no less hostile, but there was some confusion on his face now, too. How could he not know her? There was no way in the multiverse that she would ever forget –
The answer hit her like lightning.
“Multiverse.” She cursed. “You’re not from my dimension, are you?” Their blank looks were enough of an answer.
Bitter disappointment coursed through her. It was stupid to think that. Stupid to think she would ever catch a break, that something would go right for once. Stupid to hope there might be a way home.
Angrily swallowing a lump in her throat, she stowed away Big Bertha. She wanted nothing more than to just talk to this version of her old friend a little while longer. However, Stanford was not about to let down his guard and decide to trust a complete stranger on nothing but their word that they were friends in another dimension. Especially not if he had a kid to look out for.
She stared at him a moment longer before turning away. Every step crushed her.
⃝
Mabel felt Ford relax his grip on her only after the woman had walked away, leaving behind a tight apology.
“She had a cool sword,” she remarked.
Ford nodded his agreement. “It was very unique,”
“Who d’ya think she was? She seemed kinda sad,”
“I have no idea. However, I think we can rule out Fiddleford McGucket,”
“Yep. No southern charm at all.” Mabel shook her head.
Ford made an amused sound. “Let’s get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow,”
“I bet I can bring in more money than you,”
⃝
“How are you doing that?” Ford exclaimed in amazement.
The brightness of the crowded market square was such a contrast to the gloom and quiet of the night before that Mabel might have believed they’d fallen onto another planet – that is, if the sensation of going through portals wasn’t impossible to ignore.
She was sitting on the countertop of one of the gambling stalls, playing a game with the owner while Ford stood beside her and watched. As far as she could tell, she’d won the last eight rounds and the owner was getting antsy.
“I have no idea!” she replied happily. “No really, I’m not sure what I’m doing.”
“Well, you have a talent for it.” Ford scooped their winnings into a pocket. That coat of his never seemed to run out of space.
“Uh huh. Grunkle Stan taught me well,” This time there was only a slight tremble in her voice when she mentioned home. She was getting better.
The stall owner made a frustrated sound. Ford quickly thanked him and took Mabel’s hand, heading into the crowds. Mabel waved a goodbye, but the large, red, five-armed being only glared.
“I don’t think that guy liked me winning all that money off him,” she said slightly nervously. Ford tightened his grip on her hand when he looked back and saw the gambler examining the dice Mabel had been using.
“Let’s get out of here quickly. Gamblers don’t like to lose, and I have seen some accuse their opponents of swindling them simply as an excuse to take back their money. You don’t want to know what they do to the actualcheaters,”
A cold feeling of dread settled in the pit of Mabel’s stomach. Unfortunately, her uncle noticed her unusual silence and looked down at her. She was too late to wipe the guilty expression from her face. Ford’s eyebrows shot up.
“You were cheating?” he said in disbelief.
Mabel swallowed. “Um … I think so?”
An enraged roar from behind them was followed by the sound of thundering footsteps.
“RUN!” Ford shouted, shoving her forwards while drawing his gun. “Get back to the al-”
He was tackled by a murderously snarling blur of red, all six orange eyes fixed on Mabel. Heart in her mouth, she sprinted away. The sound of Ford’s laser gun thinned out the crowd like magic.
Why the heck had she cheated? It had been so easy, sure, but she was usually fine without it. What had she been thinking? What if Ford couldn’t take that guy, what if he got hurt, what if –
Her breath was hitching in her chest and terror was pumping through her veins. She’d been running for a while, and oh no, she couldn’t stop now, she needed to get help, but she didn’t know anyone –
She skidded around a corner and collapsed to her knees, looking around wildly. If she just asked, someone was bound to help, right? She looked desperately around the new square she was in, but no one seemed to care about the gasping kid on the ground or the sounds of laser fire coming from a few blocks over, sweet Moses she could use a familiar face …
With a startled “HEY!” she saw one.
Mabel crashed into the blonde woman’s side, succeeding in getting her attention but failing Step Two in that she could only cough and cling desperately to her sleeve.
“Kid? Are you alright? Where’s Stanford?”
Still valiantly trying to retake control of her lungs, Mabel gestured helplessly towards the sounds of yelling and gunfire. The woman seemed to understand immediately. She drew her sword and took off running, Mabel right behind her.
They arrived just in time to see Ford get thrown against a wall.
⃝
Various swear words swam through Ford’s mind, echoed vehemently by his aching body. He could taste blood, and purple flashes were obscuring his vision. His ears were ringing. He also could not get his legs under him in order to stand up. The dislocated shoulder though, he could feel clearly.
The gambler, now in possession of Ford’s gun, levelled it at him.
Shit.
He reached for a piece of rubble with his good arm, which, if thrown, might just be enough to injure and/or distract the man while he got to his feet …
Yes. All his other attacks so far had failed but if he used a rudimentary projectile–
The treacherous thought did not get the chance to go to completion. Sword flashing, a tall blonde woman stepped between them just as the red giant fired, although instead of the laser burning straight into her it … fragmented. It seemed to break before it reached her, into pieces that dissipated in the air.
Not seeming to believe his eyes, something Ford could not blame him for, the attacker fired again, only for the same thing to happen. With that, a physical hand-to-sword assault was attempted.
Mabel crouched down in front of him, blocking the view.
“Grunkle Ford! Oh my gosh, are you okay? I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen! I’m gonna get you out of here, I promise,”
Unable to coherently reply, Ford was forced to make like a sack of potatoes and have his good arm slung around his twelve-year-old niece’s shoulders while the rest of him was heaved halfway off the ground. He was impressed Mabel managed to do even that much. An absurdly-timed flicker of pride blew through him.
While trying to coerce his legs into taking some of his weight, Ford found himself facing the fight. Blearily, he watched as the woman fended off a blow with one hand, her sword somehow not breaking under the impact of the being’s punch, but also failing to penetrate his skin, just as lasers had.
“Wait!” she called out sharply. She made a quick signal with her free hand. After a tense moment, the red gambler lowered his fists and walked away, all hostility disappearing like smoke. Breathing a sigh of relief, the woman turned and hurried towards them.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her hazel eyes meeting Ford’s as she pulled his dislocated arm around her shoulders.
With an agonised groan, Ford thought that it would be acceptable to now fall into unconsciousness.
This is so well-written!! Can’t wait to follow your story :D
