nowimjustastranger

[nowimjustastranger]

Do I even have to say it?

Make no mistake, I love a guilty Ford, but there is not enough ANGRY Ford.

A Stanford Pines who, instead of going sad and quiet and guilt ridden whenever Stan off handedly mentions something horrible happened to him, a Stanford Pines who gets mad.

He was raised by Filbrick Pines after all.

A Ford who learns that Stan needed glasses as a kid, glasses that only Ford got, and instead of feeling that sharp drowning guilt, he gets angry enough that he has to go stomp up on deck to cool down. He has to pade relentlessly because how dare the adults in their early life fail Stanley so badly? How dare they force Stan to get any less than he got?

Stan mentions chewing his way out of a trunk of a car, gesturing to his dentures, and Ford snaps his own jaw shut and glares at the table like its personally offended him. Its a sort of rage that locks his shoulders and forces him to breathe out slow through his nose. A Ford that breathes out pointed questions to his brother about the situation. What happened? When? Who? Ford who is angry and upset when that last one gets answered with "people who've been dead a long time"

Yes there's guilt there. Yes there is the feeling that Ford is at least partially responsible for some of the things that Stan had to deal with. But that guilt is drowning in the sort of simmering protective and forceful rage that Ford conjures. He's mad. He's mad at their Pa, their Ma. He's mad at anyone who ever made Stan feel small, he's mad that he ever made Stan feel small. He's mad at Bill Cipher, even if Stan killed him. He's mad at the whole fuckin world, for daring to treat his twin like shit.

Because how dare it.

[nowimjustastranger]

I know you know who I am.

Don’t worry Ford, it’s just a nightmare!

Probably

[nowimjustastranger]

"Hes not dead, He's just...different now"

(Anti and Jerk belongs to @tinfoil-jones, Lee and Watchdog belongs to @nowimjustastranger- The Shifter belongs to me)

only @tinfoil-jones , @nowimjustastranger and I know the context of this

[nowimjustastranger]

YOU BETTER STOP

[nowimjustastranger]

“WHO IS IT?” Ford demands, “HAVE YOU COME TO STEAL MY EYES?”

“...Well, I can always–!”

THUNK.

There’s an impact. A heavy blow like a metal bat to the chest rockets through Stan’s body, knocking him back and snatching the air from his lungs in one go.

Stan’s foot catches on ice-slick steps. A sharp yelp tears from his throat. He’s sent pinwheeling gracelessly off the porch, and all at once, his skull cracks against frozen ground with a force that rattles his teeth as something gives way with a sharp snap! Bright, blinding stars explode like supernovas behind his eyes. Something pointed digs into his back. It adds to the fresh onslaught of pain, pain, ow, FUCK, PAIN. Blood, wet and warm and pungent, starts to seep into his shirt and jacket, congealing just as quick as it meets the open winter air.

Through the incessant ringing in his ears, he hears something clatter in the distance, and then a panicked burst of noise that sounds like, “O-oh mygod, STANLEY, I’msosorry!”

[nowimjustastranger]

Multiverse Ford Nicknames

Nobody:...

Me: Oh, what does DD Stan call his various Ford Variants? I'm so glad you asked. Here's a comprehensive list:

DD Ford: Stanford, Dipshit, Lex Luthor, Darth Sidious, Mr. Hyde, the Evil Twin, Triangle Fucker, Cone Gobbler, Dumbass

Jerk Ford @tinfoil-jones : Dickweed, Asshole, Shithead, Fucknuts, Dickhead, Menace to Society

Anti-Ford @tinfoil-jones : Ford, Bro. (This is significant because he doesn't even call his OWN Stanford just Ford anymore. He keeps it cordial.🤣)

Loser Ford @rayyanishere1 : Kid, Kiddo, Peter Parker (because Peter can be kinda pathetic sometimes xD)

Bounty Hunter Ford, A.K.A Clyfford @nowimjustastranger: Clyff, Big Guy, Monstruoso (Venture Bros Ref), Clyfford the Big Red Hunter

Watchdog Ford @nowimjustastranger : Watch, Bloodhound, Bouncer (like a club bouncer) Ford Secret Police

Dr. Pines @maridrawss: Dr. Pines. (Also significant because he only calls TWO Fords Dr. Pine/s. It's a sign of respect, and an admission he may have fucked up by being so hostile in the beginning. XD)

Dr. Pine @aroace-get-out-of-my-face: Dr. Pine. Wee Little Puppet Man. Smile Time With Dr. Pine (reference to THAT Angel episode. Said with love though)

[nowimjustastranger]

This is pretty vague, so I'm gonna go with how I interpreted your wish upon first reading it. With that said, you have all the excuses you could ever need at your disposal, but no one is going to believe you when you tell them said excuse.

Uh, for my wish... I want to be able to control the weather.

@acesartscape, @wafflewarriors, @ahpelion-z.

I wanted to try make a lil tag game 👉👈

Basically, rules are, you are a genie/witch: You must fullfill prev's wish but ruin it somehow (eg: Ursula gave Ariel legs but took her voice). You must fullfill the wish, just not how they expect it☆

I'll make my wish first!

I wish to be able to teleport objects and myself to places and other dimensions! :D

I tag my genies (no pressure!): @cryptic-underground @hellsquills @biggirlscantcry @thenoellebird @sharkiesforjoy @sharksfrommars @otsalezu @coniferouspines @aweebshitdrawings @dark-lord-of-awesomeness @aroace-get-out-of-my-face @stoicjewel @lackinggravitas and anyone that wants to do this

Sorry if I tagged you and you dont like/want to do this!

[nowimjustastranger]

i was being menaced while eating cobbler earlier, and so in the interest of giving a blorbo my agonies: there's no way stan does not have wicked bad heart palpitations. five minutes alone with his thoughts and it feels like his heart is trying to punch its way out of his chest. not a very big deal to him at least nowadays, but after weirdmagedon he ofhand mentions to ford "man my heart feels weird, wonder what that's about :)?"

the discovery of the turbo charged stanmobile engine as ford rockets them to the hospital does not help matters.

FORD CONCERNED ABOUT STAN'S HEALTH MY BELOVED

Listen, I have no idea which post it was or how/where to find it, but I wrote a whole thing about how I think post canon, Ford is ABSOLUTELY subtly worrying constantly about Stan's health.

Now, post Weirdmageddon that's kind of a given, especially since Stan. Ya know. ERASED HIS MIND to save the world, so its natural for Ford to fret. But I LOVE when Ford leans a little further into being feral about it.

Out in the Multiverse, Ford tried his best to take care of himself. Granted he did the best with what he had, but he's in shape, he's got vitamins, all that jazz.

(I personally also subscribe to the idea that Ford got "enhancements" over the years, a replaced joint or injection based self healing stuff, sci fi stuff along the way of his mission to kill Bill Cipher. Why wouldnt he? He wasn't expecting to come home, he's going to take every advantage he can get)

Which means Ford is TERRIFED of the very real possibility of Stan just. Givin out on him. He's old, they both are, and sailing isn't exactly a walk in the park. Ford's ALREADY protective when it comes to anomalies and outside threats like monsters and whatnot,but the idea of losing Staj to something he can't really prevent? A heart attack, a bad fall, all of that? TERRIFYING.

Now STAN on the other end is fascinating, because when it comes down to it, he's an old alley cat. Hes been through the ringer. Sure, hes old, but he's got that sway old boxers have, and, yeah, he complains about his knees and back, but the guy is built like a wall and can take a hit or a dozen. Hes been around the block, cheated his way into and out of the rodeo, rode the hasslhoff-if you get that reference I love you- and he's the embodiment of been there done that.

Aches and pains are nothing. Heart palpitations? Easy. He's been knocked down countless times and he's never stayed down yet, so why make a big deal of anything?

I think he keeps shit to himself, not because he doesn't wanna worry Ford, that doesn't even come into the equation, but because he thinks it doesn't matter. He ain't dead, so why the fuss? The only time he brings something up if it's actively impairing what he needs to do.

I don't think he brings up the false teeth, or the hear aid, or the heart palpitations, or the missing kidney or the hundreds of other things that are wrong with him if he can help it, or he'll tack them on in a story if it helps his showmanship along.

Imagine the sheer disbelief on poor Ford's face when Stan is telling some outlandish and exaggerated tale about something, whatever barmaid he's talking to scoffs, and Stan lifts up the side of his shirt to show off the kidney removal scar and goes "Oh yeah? It gave me THIS!" To sell it

And Ford. Did not know that scar existed. What? Stan. Where did you get that. Who gave that to you are they still breathing? Stan. Stanley. Stan i swear to-STOP IGNORING ME-

And so what is Ford to do?

Unethical science of course.

He ropes an enthusiastic Fiddleford into it too. Vitamins, medication, occasionally maybe an injection Ford says is "basically a flu shot" when in actuality its regrowing Stan's kidney. All of this shit because Ford just. Says no to Stan's mortality. Thanks, I can fix it.

Which MEANS. That when Stan says something like "oh man, heart palpitations are a little up today, weird." And Ford drives them to a hospital (faster than any other vessel could have gone) when the hospital does intake, there are some...misunderstandings.

The staff ask for previous medical history. Stan, begrudgingly, gives a record.

Tore a rotator cuff in 77. Didn't heal right.

Ford interjects that hes given Stan four plasma injections, so its not a problem anymore.

The doctor notes it down, and leaves the room to gather something or other, and Stan gets to ask as soon as their out of earshot, very calm, "Ford, what the fuck?"

And thus Ford has to explain. Ha. Ha ha. Actually, I've been. Fixing your shit. Behind the curtain. For six months. You have a new kidney and, since I boosted your regenerative tissue, technically a new liver. Also the lung damage from smoking is gone. And spinal cord issues. Ive been waiting on the vitamin to help you regrow your teeth, I figure I should ask about that one first cause you'd notice.

And the heart palpitations?

I'll fix that soon. I just wanted to hear the diagnosis for it first.

And Stan, very politely, does not sock his brother until AFTER he's been discharged.

[nowimjustastranger]

So… this took me a small eternity to write due to some irl issues that I’m dealing with but nevermind that because here it is folks! My revenge against @aroace-get-out-of-my-face, who carves my beating heart out of my chest and gleefully stomps on it on the regular with her amazing writing. So, with that said, this is the story of how Watchdog and one Dr. Pine met and eventually became friends! Be warned, there is gratuitous use of “the puppet” and it/its pronouns to describe Dr. Pine in this fic because they don’t actually introduce themselves yet lol.

Also, Jerk Ford belongs to @tinfoil-jones and Samuel (The Archivist) belongs to @tearosepedall. They have joint custody of Anti Ford, lol.

Part 2

Ford walked away from yet another stall, disappointed and growing more agitated as the market grew more and more crowded as time crawled closer and closer to the busiest time of the day. Ford had come early –with several hours to spare– to avoid getting caught in this exact situation. But needs must and Ford was two missions away from being completely out of Muknore.

It was an exotic plant that could be found in this stretch of the Eubuleus System, native to the uninhabited planet of Hetune. So, not only was it hard to find due to its rarity and the hostile wildlife, but it also cost a pretty penny to purchase from a third party. Granted, Ford would have just gone to Hetune to fetch some himself, but he was a little pressed for time.

His schedule for this entire week was packed with everything from an outing with Lee and Fiddleford today to drinks with Jerk, Anti, and Samuel at the end of the week. He had already had to ask for a raincheck on the latter activity twice due to a dire mission and the aftermath of another mission the following month.

At this rate, Jerk would send Samuel into dimension 419”3 to kidnap him. Jerk didn’t take well to being brushed off or ignored. In fact, his texts have been getting increasingly unhinged in a juvenile bid for attention. But Ford always indulged him, often leaving his communicator’s sound on since he actually got messages outside of The Polymath’s bi-weekly reports now.

Ah, there! A stand that had a selection of exotic fauna!

Ford swiftly changed direction in order to begin weaving through the borderline claustrophobic crowd of bodies, eager to purchase what he needed so he could go home to Lee and Fiddleford. Unfortunately, he wasn’t paying close attention to his surroundings, so it came as a shock when his boot hit something. Ford’s leg jerked on instinct, sending whatever it was up into the air.

Ford surged forward to chase it, his heart in his throat because whatever he had accidentally launched had made a noise of surprise, bracing his boot onto the broad back of a Dovel and using the leverage to launch himself over the sea of bodies. His gloved hands closed around a small form and tucked it to his chest before he twisted so his back took the brunt of the impact.

Thankfully, there was no structural damage. Sturdy wall.

Ford pushed himself to his feet with a pained grunt, his spine aching sharply with the movement. Though his own temporary injuries didn’t deter him from raising the entity that he had unintentionally punted so he could get a proper look at it. He was stunned to find that he was holding a fluffy green… puppet? It blinked at him. He blinked back behind the privacy of his helmet’s visor.

Its mouth opened and Ford’s eyebrows shot up when it spoke.

“Well hello there, sir! It was kind of you to catch me!” The puppet said cheerfully, its little fingers curling around Ford’s wrists with surprising dexterity. Now, Ford couldn’t see any strings upon first glance, but that didn’t mean that this wasn’t a robot of some kind. With this in mind, he began to turn the puppet this way and that, though it seemed like this design was quite advanced.

Its little limbs flailed as it continued to ramble on, Ford tuning it out as his hands lightly poked and prodded at its furry body. His curiosity grew when his questing fingers didn’t find any internal structure that implied an endoskeleton– or any inner mechanics for that matter. How peculiar. How fascinating. Was this a living puppet? That would be a first for him.

Ford shifted the puppet to one hand, the other angling his wrist gauntlet to scan it.

D – P-45-35-35-15-44 | Conifer Pine | 50yo | CoD: Mauled by Iciell

The Iciell were a nasty breed that were similar to rabid earth dogs, though only in the broad sense that they were both hostile and of the quadrupedal nature, otherwise they were completely alien with their brick red skin and sharp black quills that were reminiscent of a porcupine. They also just so happened to run rampant in the southern part of the market, so there was a good chance that this strange creature was meant to die today.

And, well, the puppet did somewhat resemble a dog toy.

“Where are you heading?” Ford asked, cutting through the puppet’s chatter. Its mouth snapped shut before those startlingly keen eyes fixed onto Ford in a searching manner that had him resisting the urge to tense and give his sudden unease away.

“To the southern part of the market.” The puppet declared and Ford frowned as his suspicions were confirmed, smoothly adjusting the creature so it sat on his bent forearm. Its little fingers gripped Ford’s trenchcoat for stability, peering up at him with blatant curiosity. It was better than the earlier scrutiny, at the very least. “What brings you here?”

“Muknore.” Ford grunted, turning his attention back to the stall that he had been trying to get to before he tripped over this small lifeform and sent it flying. Ford managed to relocate his destination through the current of bodies in a matter of seconds, setting off toward the stall as soon as it was in his sights. He… may have forgotten that he was still holding the puppet, which was forced to tag along.

“Ah, yes. That plant is good for–” The little creature spoke in a factual tone that reminded Ford of teachers that inhabited classrooms filled with unruly teens, trying to impart their knowledge to deaf ears and bored faces. His brother was one of those teens, often goofing off during class; Ford had lost count of how many times Stan had him desperately holding back laughter because of his antics.

“Making a strong and reliable general anesthetic gas.”

“Reliving pain.”

They spoke at the same time, and Ford stopped in his tracks in front of the stall, looking at the promising variety of fauna but seeing none of it as his brain struggled to process the puppet’s statement. He could see the creature staring at him from the far side of his visor, though its observant gaze didn’t make his skin crawl and his aggression levels rise like it normally would.

“Pardon?” Ford asked after a moment of silence, the puppet perking up at Ford’s baffled response.

“Muknore’s roots are a natural pain reliever if you make a tincture with them.” The puppet divulged with clear glee, gesticulating in an enthusiastic fashion as it spoke. It was unfairly endearing, making something in Ford’s chest clench in a not entirely unpleasant manner. Still, he pushed the feeling aside in favor of focusing on the information that was being handed to him on a silver platter.

“I was unaware of this benefit.” Ford murmured, the fingers of his free hand twitching with the urge to record the potentially helpful material into his journal to experiment with later. It wasn’t often that he came across a topic that he didn’t know about in some capacity, after all.

“I always carry some on me. Just in case someone needs it.” The puppet declared, rummaging in his tattered labcoat to retrieve a vial that was nearly as big as his hand. The liquid stored within was both chunky and murky due to the gray roots; utterly unappetizing. Ford wasn’t repulsed by much anymore, but he would definitely have to be in a substantial amount of pain before he downed that tincture.

“What about you?” Ford asked, slowly moving his gauntlet over the puppet to do a more in-depth scan. What he found was most intriguing. The puppet’s internal structure was an exact replica of the inanimate object, fabric and stuffing. Though there was something about the green fabric that covered the puppet’s exposed limbs and head that his sensors couldn’t identify. Magic, perhaps?

“Oh, it wouldn’t work on me.” The puppet hummed and, to Ford’s bewilderment, it offered him the vial. Ford blinked dumbly, hesitantly taking it with his free hand. Having a sample to break down the components would make recreating the tincture easier, but he certainly wasn’t expecting the little creature to give one up so easily.

“Fascinating…” Ford mumbled, quickly tucking the vial into a pocket on his utility belt before it could change its mind. The vendor barked something at him in their native tongue and Ford snapped back with equal vitriol, adjusting his companion so it was tucked more securely against his side. The position was ideal for defense, allowing him to use his body as a shield should the vendor lose their temper and lash out.

“How do you make a Muknore into a general anesthetic?” The puppet asked, drawing a fraction of Ford’s intense and predatory focus away from the temperamental vendor to address his little companion.

“Turning the stem and leaves into a gaseous form using the phase transitions can render a full-grown Scurko unconscious in three full breaths.” Ford disclosed, though he instinctively withheld the two other ingredients that were needed to successfully make the knockout gas. He wasn’t taking any chances. “Although getting the dosage right for different species can be a bit tricky sometimes.”

“Wow, that’s impressive!” The puppet exclaimed and Ford’s stomach squirmed at the praise, prompting him to clench his jaw and lock the feeling away. He had felt like this before. With Cipher. Never again would he let kind words and flattery blind him to someone’s true nature. Although the Heckler had proved his initial assumptions wrong, Jerk Ford was undeniably a rare find among his variants.

“Hm.” Ford grunted, his eyes trailing over the spread of plants. The vendor had become distracted by another customer, buying Ford some time to find what he needed before the impatient asshole returned to pester him some more. Ford already knew that the vendor was going to attempt to swindle him, but it wasn’t anything he didn’t know how to handle.

“It’s over there.” The puppet piped in, tugging on Ford’s trench coat with one hand as the other pointed to the Muknore. Ford muttered his thanks and reached for the potted plant, the last in stock if the otherwise empty shelf was any indication. Although, a meaty tentacle snatched it right as Ford’s fingers touched the rim on the pot, yanking it away.

The vendor, as expected, set a ridiculously steep price for the plant that they held hostage.

Ford felt white-hot rage churn in his chest, planting a boot on the edge of the table to violently shove it forward, pinning the vendor between the table’s edge and the wall. Then Ford surged forward, bracing a knee onto the tabletop to keep the vendor trapped as he simultaneously drew one of his guns and pressed it against their slimy face in a blatant threat that he fully intended to act on.

“Oh my goodness.” The puppet squeaked and Ford paused, finger freezing on the trigger. He took a deep breath, the anger slowly releasing its vice grip on his ribcage with each controlled inhale. Ford could hear screaming and shouting from behind him as the crowd scattered like a herd of prey fleeing a predator, Ford starling when a little green hand rested on the arm that still brandished the weapon.

The puppet spoke to the vendor in their native language when Ford reluctantly lowered the gun, but he didn’t holster it. Ford kept an eye out for the authorities as the vendor passed the potted plant to the puppet with a trembling tentacle, the little creature voicing its thanks and nudging Ford’s bicep expectantly.

Ford was torn for a moment, but ultimately put the gun away so he could carelessly throw a few coins onto the table before stalking away, his companion and potted plant in hand. He ended up ducking into an alley a few moments later when he spotted security rushing toward them, using a dumpster to launch himself up to a fire escape, gripping the railing one-handed and pulling himself up with a grunt of effort.

He wasn’t exactly surprised when they open-fired on him, he was a well known threat to criminals and governments alike. He certainly didn’t discriminate. Ford brought the puppet in front of him, and just in time too because two bullets hit his back, one of them puncturing his stomach. He stumbled with a low sound of pain, pressing against the wall as blood bubbled up his esophagus.

He swallowed it down, shuddering as his insides burned from the stomach acid that leaked out. They were using hollow point bullets, maximizing the damage. Smart. But it wouldn’t be enough. Ford could already feel his regeneration kick in, forcing the foreign objects out the way that they had entered. Ford shoved off the wall, pounding up the stairs and surging onto the roof.

He sprinted toward the edge, the puppet yelling some kind of protest that went unacknowledged as Ford launched himself off the ledge, clearing the sizable gap. He landed on the other roof with a tuck and roll, the momentum helping him continue moving forward as soon as his feet were planted on the gravel, putting even more distance between him and his pursuers.

He navigated across a few more buildings before he finally started making his way down to the ground floor, finding an alleyway to tuck them away in for a moment. Ford’s free hand scrabbled at his helmet strap, something fuzzy reaching up to squeeze the clasp so he could pull it off and vomit. Blood dripped from his lips as he heaved, his senses assaulted by the sudden flood of data.

“Ugh… fuck.” Watchdog croaked, spitting a few times as the last of the misplaced blood was expunged, slumped against the wall. He didn’t even have the energy to wipe his face, his stomach sore from the trauma. He hated when his stomach was damaged because he had to replenish burned calories but the lingering ache would make the experience an unpleasant one.

“Language!” The puppet chided and Ford flinched at the volume, an oncoming migraine building in the back of his head where the port was embedded. He hardly noticed when his mouth and jaw were wiped clean with a soft cloth, his eyes squeezed shut. When the puppet spoke again, it was much quieter, but no less enthusiastic than before. “Wow, that was intense!”

“Mhn…” Ford hummed weakly, managing to crack an eye open as his head throbbed. The puppet was holding a bloody cloth, easily relinquishing it when Ford took the sullied fabric and stuffed it into a pouch to dispose of later. The puppet stared at him for a long moment with an unreadable expression, Ford avoiding eye contact as his grip on his helmet tightened.

“Your plant.” It chirped, passing the potted Muknore to him. Ford took it with a careful hand, slowly crouching to deposit the puppet on its feet. It lingered in his personal space, pressing a little hand against Ford’s knee, and the lump that formed in Ford’s throat had nothing to do with the lingering taste of pennies.

“Thank you.” Ford rasped, swallowing thickly. He pulled the helmet back on to hide, straightening to his full height as he buckled it under his chin, plant securely cradled in his arm. And, on a whim, Ford grabbed one of the gas canisters from his belt and offered it to the puppet. “Here, this is the gas. Pull the pin, throw it, and don’t inhale.”

“Oh, thank you!” The puppet mused, accepting the canister with both hands. It looked comically big in the little creature’s grip, the sight stirring a sense of protectiveness. The puppet was so small in such a big and cruel multiverse. Ford closed his eyes for a second, steeling himself before he used his wrist gauntlet to scan the puppet again.

D – P-45-35-35-15-44 | Conifer Pine | 50yo | CoD: Incinerated

Ford’s mouth pressed into a thin line at the updated cause of death, and he reached for his belt again to grab a beacon, dropping it into the puppet’s labcoat pocket with impeccable aim. It blinked up at him curiously and Ford cleared his throat, feeling a little awkward as he explained: “If you’re ever in a situation that you can’t get out of yourself, press the button and I will come.”

“Thank you.” The puppet said, its voice saturated with so much genuine gratitude that Ford’s face felt hot. He just nodded before he turned on his heel to head for the main street, intending to bait the authorities into chasing him so the puppet could make a clean getaway. It was the least he could do considering he was the one that got it into this whole mess.

[nowimjustastranger]

A bunch of Dr Pine(s)!!! (Featuring a creature by my cousin Mercy)

Out of the many, many Fords of the Multiverse, Dr Pine seems to be having one of the best times.

[nowimjustastranger]

modern-day changeling tales

[nowimjustastranger]

Somebody hold me up I'm swooning look at himmmmmm! AUGH! Lee is giving off a chill vibe how perfect, because he's a chill dude. And the oranges and yellows for the sunshine-coded character is a wonderful addition! Thank you so much for the art of my AU @acesartscape you nailed it as always!

Updated Lee Pines art for @nowimjustastranger ! The bottom is the old art I made of him

[nowimjustastranger]

Jerk Ford AU: EXP Farming the EXP Farmers

Jerk Ford has been dealing with bounty hunters ever since he was ex-communicated from the Fordverse within his first portal year, and therefore killing him wasn't considered an evil act (as far as not-evil Fords go).

He's a (mostly) regular un-augmented human man. He doesn't have special powers. Yes, he's a genius and brilliant scientist, capable of great technological feats, but so is almost every Stanford Pines in the known multiverse.

His arguably greatest achievement in the multiverse is that he has a flawless regeneration serum - flawless in the sense that unlike most regeneration serums, his regen serum takes into consideration frequent or repeat users. The main problem with regenerating in mortal organisms is that cells have a limit to how many times they divide, and when they do divide the DNA strands gets shorter, effectively aging a person. A person who uses regeneration too often risks artificially shortening their lifespan.

This was a problem Jerk Ford identified with his old, imperfect serums - yes, he was healing his many, many frequent injuries from getting shot at all the time, but he was using them often and had no counter measure. It's the reason why he has much more white hair than canon Ford.

But he found a revolutionary method of stabilizing and then distilling the looping chrono energy from the Do-Over Dimension / Yo-Yo Dimension, adding it into his serum and creating a closed loop where the regenerated cells reset to their pre-divided age. This is how he no longer gets scars when he uses it, and doesn't have to worry about shortening his lifespan.

This is also a method he refuses to share with anyone else. Whateber method he uses on the chrono energy, its unconventional and unhinged enough that even his alts can't guess what he does. He will likely take this to his grave.

But this is an external and artificial healing factor, he doesn't have his internal own healing factor the way some of his variants like Watchdog Ford or Guard Ford do.

The point of this all being; he's mostly a normal human. The only special power you can chalk up to him is toon logic; where he always seems to outrun people chasing after him, and avoid punishment the same way most Fords avoid accountability and laundry, even when it logically makes no sense that this old ass man is so fast. That isn't so much as a superhuman ability as it is some cosmic bullshit that makes people mad.

Jerk Ford also has a particular flaw (amongst many), the particularness being that it's a deviation from the norm; he lacks the murder trait. Most Fords don't have too many hang ups about killing; they have a 'shoot first, journal about it later' policy, necessary for their survival. Jerk Ford, normally the exact opposite of altruistic has a particular and perhaps foolish habit of sparing the many people who have tried to kill him.

That isn't to say he won't kill at all, but his kill count is very low in the Fordverse (Nazi kills don't count).

He's utilized many tactics over the years, and that's how he's managed to have bounties in every dimension he's ever stepped foot in, and yet remained uncaptured and unkilled. And he's adapted overtime; he's seen every type of bounty hunter, contract killer, assassin, angry mob, ect.

Jerk Ford has been EXP farming the EXP farmers themselves, and they're still surprised when nothing they do catches him by surprise.

He's been shot, stabbed, poisoned, burned, plasma blasted, laser blasted, choked out, shoved under water, buried alive, catcalled, catfished, shivved, abducted, threatened in person, threatened online, threatened in the astral plane, had a live crab thrown at him, bludgeoned, drugged, beaten, ect.

Some bounty hunters take more offense to Jerk Ford escaping them than others

One glaring example? The bounty hunting pair of Stan Twins from Dimension-83;9F; Clyfford and Stanton Pines.

The first time they attempted to take his bounty, it went poorly. Jerk Ford, thankfully, did realize they were under Watchdog Ford's protection, and had him pick them up.

These twins are a rare instance of the Ford of the pair having more grace and respect for Jerk Ford than the Stan of the pair.

Because Stanton aka Stan-83;9F? He despises Jerk Ford. He took such monumental offense to the humiliation suffered at his troll hands the first time, that he's tried many times in the following years to finally end the bastard.

And every attempt has failed.

Here's a few:

Attempt #2 on Jerk Fords life:

BH Stan is stuck in an upright glue trap like Han Solo in carbonite.

Jerk Ford: You really didn't have to do this. You could have just, I don't know, *stayed at home*. Maybe with a six pack and Netflix? But no, you have do this shit.

BH Stan: *spitting curses and threats at Jerk Ford*

Jerk Ford: *looking at him unimpressed with his fists on his hips* Boy, I have been dealing with bounty hunters and haters *long* before you came into the multiverse. Every single one of them failed. You're lucky you're one someone's 'exclusion' list.

BH Stan: I WILL FUCKI-

Jerk Ford: I'll call your brother to come pick you up- he isn't one for talking. Does he take texts?

The BH Stan Twins communicate via encoded, multi-dimensional walkie-talkies. Jerk Ford would has to scan Stan's, and tap into their frequency with a different device.

This is a data breach, and a security compromise; BH twins would have to wipe and rewrite a whole new frequency to prevent future compromises. In true Jerk Ford fashion, instead of "insult to injury" it's "insult to inconvenience".

Jerk Ford: *'calling' BH Ford with his communication device*

BH Stan: I swear I'm going to hurt you so bad one of these days, I'll be in your nightmares.

Jerk Ford, dismissively: Well, that'll shake the normal ones up. Maybe that'll make them interesting again.

*Clicking sound indicating the calls been answered*

Jerk Ford: Hello, 83;9F? Did you notice your brother sneak out? I believe he's drunk or under the influence of something; because he broke into my hideout, and is extremely belligerent.

BH Stan: *angry, offended Stan noises*

Jerk Ford: He's fine, just a little miffed. Could you come over and pick him up?

Jerk Ford is saying all of this casually, as if he's calling a friend to pick up another friend who passed out drunk on his couch

As if he doesn't know BH Ford could rip him into several different pieces with his bare claws and teeth.

By the time BH Ford gets there, Jerk Ford is long gone, and BH Stan is covered in black marker drawings that wouldn't be out of place on a middle schoolers desk if not for how anatomically accurate certain ones were.

---

Attempt #8 on Jerk Fords life:

Stanton isn't so hot blooded and impulsive that he only ever attempts to end someone in hand-to-hand combat, at least once he used a sniper rifle to try and headshot Jerk Ford from a distance.

Jerk Ford: *walking through a crowd*

BH Stan: There's no way I can fail this *fixed up his rifle on a tripod before trying to aim* -where did he go?

*After twenty minutes of crowd searching, Stanton can't find him*

BH Stan: *scowling* Sly bastard.

Jerk Ford: Thanks, kid.

BH Stan: *jumping in shock* What the fuck!

Yeah, Jerk Ford has been standing there a while, waiting for him to notice. He proceeds put BH Stan into a net trap before he can start swinging.

BH Stan: *flailing* How the- How the fuck did you know!?

Jerk Ford: *disassembles the rifle* I've been shot at least once a week for over twenty years, eventually you get a sense for it.

BH Stan: Bullshit.

Jerk Ford: Also, the scope of your rifle has glare. You should consider a ghillie suit*slipping the firing pin into his pocket*.

BH Stan: What? Ghillie suit are for the wilderness.

Jerk Ford: *putting the rest of the rifle back together* Traditional and unoriginal thoughts and tactics like that are why you and your peers can't kill me.

---

Attempt #53 on Jerk Fords life:

Jerk Ford: I'll be honest, this stopped being funny a while ago. Now it's just sad.

BH Stan:

BH Stan: *frothing at the mouth* I'm going to personally ensure you stop breathing or die trying.

Jerk Ford:

Jerk Ford: Better make sure you have all your affairs in order then.

BH Stan: *wiggling aggressively* You fuckin'-

This ends in Jerk Ford, once again, calling BH Ford to pick up his brother.

---

BH Stan is a proud (Jerk) Ford Hate Club member, one of the few Stan's in the club who actually hate him as much as Fords typically do. Make no mistake, however, this does not translate into respect from the Ford-majority of the club, who still treat him like an extension or sidekick of his Ford.

BH Ford? He's always loyal to his brother and by his side, even in a childish (and admittedly fruitless) endevour such as this grudge. Personally, while there is a lot of hate about Jerk Ford, he can at least hand it to him that unlike the rest of their variants in the club, he doesn't treat the Stans of the multiverse any different than he does anyone else.

...And he reminds Clyfford of someone.

(Frankly, Stanton should be glad that his JFAU counterpart hasn't been told any of this (and never will). Because if you think Stan-PJC311 cares about anyone being under anyone's protection, you're not just wrong; but he'll gladly fist fight whoever was providing said protection, and then turn around and deck you too for even suggesting he would ever let someone who has tried to kill his brother live.)

[ Watchdog Ford (mentioned), Stanton, and Clyfford by @nowimjustastranger

Guard Ford (mentioned) by @skeptiql ]

[nowimjustastranger]

Transcript:

Watchdog, letting Dr. Pine sit on the crook of his elbow: I brought a friend Dr. Pine: Hello! The Archivist, holding up Dr. Pine: Well you are the cutest variant I've ever seen. Dr. Pine: You should let yourself be emotionally vulnerable, and be who you are around the people you love ❤️. The Archivist who is also Shifty: ... Anti Ford and StCMO Lee: *holding The Archivist back from tearing Dr. Pine apart like a chew toy*

[ Watchdog Ford and Lee by @nowimjustastranger Dr. Pine by @aroace-get-out-of-my-face The Archivist (and the art) by @tearosepedall Anti Ford by OP ]

[nowimjustastranger]

The context is only relevant to Me, @tinfoil-jones, and @nowimjustastranger /j

[nowimjustastranger]

Meanwhile Watchdog is side-eyeing this adorable 2ft tall sentient puppet with genuine fear.

(Yes, he thinks the helmet will save him from a hard read. It won't)

Transcript:

Watchdog, letting Dr. Pine sit on the crook of his elbow: I brought a friend Dr. Pine: Hello! The Archivist, holding up Dr. Pine: Well you are the cutest variant I've ever seen. Dr. Pine: You should let yourself be emotionally vulnerable, and be who you are around the people you love ❤️. The Archivist who is also Shifty: ... Anti Ford and StCMO Lee: *holding The Archivist back from tearing Dr. Pine apart like a chew toy*

[ Watchdog Ford and Lee by @nowimjustastranger Dr. Pine by @aroace-get-out-of-my-face The Archivist (and the art) by @tearosepedall Anti Ford by OP ]

[nowimjustastranger]

Omg, you were in the ER!? I hope you're feeling better now!!!! All of the good health for you, my friend!!!

And look at himmmmm! Lee, the best most precious boyyyy! My baby! Lmao. I love him oh so dearly and you draw him so soft yet casual??? Idk you're a wizard and I just sit in awe!

Been a bit since I’ve been on here, an ER visit took me out for a few days but I’m back and working on an updated version of my Lee fanart for @nowimjustastranger