doooooog | Grass Finn Bullshit

Grass Finn Bullshit

"Finn!" Jake cupped a hand beside his mouth, the other six or seven busy putting away their haul from the Bargain Kingdom (a store, not a government, for once). A ninth hand sprouted to gently retrieve the vuvuzela from where BMO was absconding with it. "You hungry, buddy? They had a huge special on boar meat, I'm thinkin' sloppy joes!"

"THEY LEFT!" Neptr chimed in, sullenly, from his perch on the stair. "FATHER AND GRASS FATHER. NOT NEPTR."

"Oh yeah. Well, don't sweat it Neptr, that chicken coop is the kinda thing that changes a man. Better to skip it."

"NOT A CHICKEN COOP, A DUNGEON ADVENTURE."

Jake's coordinated dance of arms flagged for a moment, doubt curling in his gut. The prickle of concern was followed immediately by guilt. What the hell was he worried about? Two Finns were better than one. He could stand to cut Fern a break, even in his own thoughts.

"Welp, you can help me on a culinary adventure if you want." Jake's gaze dances from the meat to Neptr. "Whaddya think about Sloppy Joe Pies? Has a nice ring to it..."

---

The sun was slung low in the sky by the time Jake heard the familiar sound of Finn's return up the treehouse steps. Alongside the involuntary prick of his ears, the dog feels a smile start to spread. No matter how capable the kid (teenager) had become over the last decade, Jake was pretty sure he'd never lose the sense of relief that came over him when Finn came home safe.

Lately, lingering misgivings aside, those feelings were starting to blossom towards Fern as well.

"Hey boys!" Jake lets the smile grow to a grin, craning his neck over the arm of the couch. "Y'all have fun out there?"

Jake felt suddenly cold, as if some cosmic entity had reached its hand down and pinched out the contented flame and safety of home. His voice lost its usual buoyancy, standing up from the couch.

"Wait, what happened?"

Finn said nothing, standing there looking as if he'd been through a woodchipper. Blades of grass clung to his hair, his clothes, even stuck to the razor sharp line of blood at his exposed stomach.

"I know that look!" BMO chimed in, sounding pleased to be the one with the answer to Jake's question. Neither the boy or the dog seemed to hear him in that moment. "You just killed someone."

Threaded | Flat

It felt like it had been days and days, not just hours since he’d been in the treehouse. Something fundamentally changed about it, like a rearrangement of furniture or a shift in light that he’d never seen before. Something that you didn’t really notice in increments but you could really see when you left and then returned. But nothing had changed. Not the treehouse anyway.

BMO’s words didn’t quite sink in so much as a wash over Finn. He looked at them both, settling on Jake a moment longer before his gaze ranged away, reaching down to wipe some grass off his shorts, watching it fall to the ground with a weird feeling in his stomach.

“I think…I need a shower.”

Dog City was a bustling place, full of crowded buildings and busy streets. Parks were common, but small and worn down from frequent use. If a dog really wanted to get away from the rat race, there was only one place to go: Dog Beach(tm).

At least, that was the marketing line hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Back then, the little sandbar about an hour outside of Dog City was a densely packed vacation hub for city-weary dogs and their pups. After the Dog-Rainicorn Wars reached their uneasy (but enduring) peace, the beach saw fewer and fewer visitors. More and more dogs decided to combat overcrowding by moving into the Crystal Dimension, where the freshly colonized land allowed plenty of room to grow. These days, the most interesting things about Dog Beach were treasures of the past hidden under the damp sand.

It was that allure of that mystery that made it a favorite of Joshua and his steady Margaret while they were courting. That same mystery brought him there with his sons years later, holding contests and treasure hunts to hone their dungeon craft. Today, it's nostalgia and hope drives the trio of Joshua's children back to the junk strewn beach. Emphasis on hope.

An ancient metal sign was hung high on the chain link fence that surrounded the stretch of empty sand, carefully edited to read: No Dog~~s Allowed On The~~ Beach. Jake stood in front of it, stretching up a hand to slap it with a grin.

"Hey Jermaine, aren't you gonna touch the sign?" The goading remark was met with the heavy sigh of someone who had heard the same thing every single visit. "C'mon, nobody gets in until they touch the sign, it's tradition!"

"No way, that tradition died with Dad, bro."

"Booo!" Jake protested, turning to Finn. Their babiest brother was bringing up the rear, looking as unreadable as ever. Jake redoubled his own enthusiasm in response, even as Jermaine pulled an exasperated face. "Hey Finn, rule is you gotta touch the sign before you go in. Slap that sucker!"

Edited 2022-11-21 04:45 (UTC)

It wasn't often that Jake found himself in a hotel, let alone one as fancy as this. With his own unique brand of fast travel, there was never much need for he and Finn to spend a night outside the treehouse. Whenever going home wasn't an option, bedrolls under a sky full of stars were more than enough for them.

But Jermaine had insisted, citing the desire to make a real trip of it. Bryce had set it up apparently, trading them a couple of Jermaine's paintings for the 5-star experience, and for whatever reason Jermaine seemed determined that his dealer's efforts not be in vain.

It wasn't all paintings either, Jake had seen his brother tossing coin to anyone who so much as showed them where the bathroom was. Concierge, wait staff, bellmen... This place has bellmen. Jake hung out with princesses all day, but even he felt a little outclassed.

They got some looks heading through the lobby, not that Jake particularly noticed or cared. He was focused on Finn. The kid looked normal enough, but there was that same mutedness that followed him everywhere lately. Normally, Finn wouldn't be able to contain himself in a place like this -- asking a million questions, enthusing about the amenities listed in the brochure, stripping down for the heated pool and sauna. Not silently moving through with a polite, distracted smile on his face.

But that's what made all this so tricky to navigate. Was Finn truly in trouble, or was he just... changing? Sixteen was such a tumultuous time. Jake couldn't be sure if those changes were a trauma response or simply growing up. The former made his kidney's ache with unvoiced worry and the latter made his heart hurt with nostalgia.

Upon reaching their suite, Finn immediately called first shower; a healthy amount of shaking left Jake and Jermaine considerably less cold and disgusting than him, and the two dogs were more than happy to rid themselves of boy stink ASAP.

With a click of the bathroom door, Jake allowed himself to become distracted by something other than his kid brother. Walking into the room to get a better look, his eyes and mind bounced around from one detail to the next at a quick pace. There was a sitting area with overstuffed chairs, two bedrooms with three beds, an office area, a kitchenette, and a truly huge window overlooking the ocean and the hotel's manicured grounds. Jake slammed the drapes open, pressing his face up against it curiously.

After his eye feast, Jake turned back to Jermaine. He was just finishing up with the bellman who had brought up their baggage. Well, Jermaine's baggage. Finn and Jake travelled light, but their brother came stacked. Bryce had sent along paints, canvases, his easel... Jake wondered how long their brother was planning on staying.

"My bro's got fat stacks these days, huh!" Jake plunks down in one of the chairs, grabbing wrapped candy from a bowl in the center of the coffee table. "Painting must be going pretty well. This place's even got..." He squints at the wrapper. "Carob? Gross."

Edited 2022-11-26 03:32 (UTC)

The path home always looked different after dark.

High above them, the moon illuminated Ooo in a milky blue light. It reflected off streams and made tree tops blend together into a soft mass, like paint fanned over a canvas. This far up in the sky, the landscape somehow became more than the sum of its parts. The darkness bore abstract shapes, coming together in a strange and distinct painting.

Jake felt something dark twist in his gut. He couldn't quite put a name to the emotion; only that it came with the strange sense that he was a little bluer than before. Watching his legs move slowly over huge tracts of land with each step, he forced himself to conclude otherwise.

Same old Jake. Just the moonlight playing tricks.

Up on his back, Finn had been quiet for some time. It was late -- much later than they usually travelled -- and Jake stretched together a pillow and blanket of fur to block out the night's chill and allow Finn to get some rest.

It was after a couple hours of silence that the thoughts rolling around in Jake's head were getting a little hard to take.

"You up, bro?" He pipes up softly, not wanting to risk waking Finn on the off chance he really had gone to sleep.

Edited 2022-11-28 02:54 (UTC)

“JAKE!!”

Finn shouts it with his whole chest as soon as he’s through the door to their treehouse. He was scraped and bruised and covered in half-cooked banana goo, but grinning ear to ear. It was late, he’d taken his time coming home after the fight with the Grumbo, choosing instead to celebrate a little with HW.

He slams the door closed, climbing the ladder to their kitchen, bouncing with energy. He paced around the kitchen, leaving footprints of mud and hot fudge, hand cupped around his mouth. “Jakejakejake…where are you?”

“Hold it, mister! You need to take off those dirty shoes! You are ruining my nice, clean floors with this…” BMO, appearing from his favorite hole in the tree branch, pointing aggressively at the sludge. “Nasty business!”

Finn laughs, which only gets a stern frown out of the little robot, who gestures exasperatedly.

“Now I’m gonna have to make Neptr clean this!”

“I’m sorry Beemo, I’ll clean it later…have you seen Jake?” Finn sits and kicks off his muddy shoes, if only to appease him.

“Jake is in the bathroom, icing his wounds,” BMO says with a little digital tear, holding his hands together. Finn didn’t really remember Jake getting seriously hurt, and has a brief moment of worry about it before deciding that BMO was probably exaggerating in his typical fashion.

Grinning, he rushes over to the bathroom, knocking once before swinging the door open abruptly. “Jake, hey, guess what?”

"Didn't even get a pretzel!"

The sounds of his own voice seemed to echo off the thin atmosphere of the little rock, bouncing towards that black hole. Maybe Warren could hear him? Maybe it would ricochet off the walls of the fourth dimension until he went deaf. Or... blind. Something like that. PB would know, but Jake wasn't really sure when he'd get a chance to ask her.

Better off just imagining him split into a million tiny pieces, each piece catapulting toward their own personalized sun. A heat death so complete there was no chance any part of him might escape to give him or his puppies any trouble ever again.

Jake slumped back, letting his eyes fall shut with a sigh. Now that was a beautiful thought. He reached blindly to the side, hand eventually closing over a cold cocktail hotdog. He popped it in his mouth with out much thought, staring up into the inky blackness of space.

"Guess I'm dying in space after all," Jake tosses another hotdog in the air, stretching his mouth to catch it after it arced off target. "That's pretty chill."

Another hotdog in the air. This time, he misses.

"A-yup. Pre-tty chill."

Week One: Denial

Grass tickled at his ears as he lay back against it, the plushness of the earth feeling nice against his fur. Eyes closed like this, he could practically feel the rays of the sun and wind as they kissed past his nose. Or maybe that was just Lady's mane, cuddled as he was against her. A picnic of cocktail hotdogs and clown cake lay beside them, abandoned in favor of more interesting pursuits.

"오, 제이크. 더 이상 키스하지 않고 목이 아프기 시작합니다."

"Psh, Lady, you're like. All neck." He chuckled against her, obliging. "But you're the boss. Lemme just move down some..."

He begin to do just that, kissing down past her shoulder blades, nuzzling up against her chest, and... licking his own elbow.

Jake opens his eyes, illusion broken. As if he'd sprung a trap, Lady, the grass, the picnic, all of it snapped back into himself. He was alone again (or still), barren planet surface stretching out all around him.

Bitterly, Jake grabs a handful of cocktail hotdogs and shoves them in his mouth. His food supply was running short, but Jake didn't care. Finn was probably hot on the trail at this point, organizing whatever powers he had to to come find him. Sure, they'd jumped in an interdimensional door, but... y'know, how far could he be, really?

Finn was coming. Jake just had to be patient.

He holds up his right arm, shapeshifting it back into Lady and scrutinizing his work. It didn't... not look like her. The Hand-Lady kissed him on the top of the head and Jake sighed, leaning back down against a bed of grass.

"Now where were we..."

Week Two: Anger

Eventually, Jake had to give in to reality. Reality meant rationing, and rationing meant hunger, and hunger meant...

"Warren." Jake spat out, scratching a crude drawing of his bio-dad into the planet surface. He was surrounded by lightning, fire, and pitchfork wielding townsfolk. "What kind of a name is Warren. Joker probably lied about that, too."

Jake scribbled a little more. The townsfolk were on fire too, now.

"Idiot really thought he played me. Well, too bad, sucker. You mess with the JTD, you get bit."

With a growl, Jake scratched a hand across the drawing, sending it spiraling into nothingness. It was a contagious sort of nothingness, unfortunately, and Jake found himself swallowing back hot, angry tears as he stared down at the scratched out mess that was 'Warren Ampersand's final memorial.

"Hope it hurt when I killed you, Dad." He spits. "Yeah that's right, how 'bout a front row seat to all-a this hot teen angst you missed out on!"

Jake stands, letting out a few loud, guttural grunts -- verging on screams -- as he kicked a few more times at the drawing. The rage subsides quickly after that, replaced with its true source: hunger.

"We'll finish this later, Warren." He growls; pointing to his eyes, then back at the scuff marks on the ground. "Don't go nowheres."

Week Three: Bargaining

"This is it, Jakey. Final stretch. Winner brings home the clown's nose."

Jake steps back, scanning the field of play before beginning his wind up. Three quick steps, arm stretched up over his head, elbow stiff as he measured out his distance and...

"Oh, come on!" Jake cried in outrage as his rock sailed over the hand-drawn target, missing it entirely. "Interference from the crowd! Ref!"

A yellow, lumpy Finn in a "striped" shirt walked over the the rock, kicking it with his foot before shouting back -- in a high pitched, distinctly Jake-esque Finn impression: "Sorry, bro! Rules are rules."

"This is a pretty stupid game, man!" Jake called back, picking up another rock from the pile he'd collected, checking it for smoothness and aerodynamics. "How far away are you, anyways? I dunno how many more hours of Rock-Throw I've got in me..."

"Well," Yellow-Finn ponders, hands on his hips, "I gotta be pretty close now. That is, if I'm actually looking for you."

"Ha ha," Jake mocks, fingers tightening over the rock. "You and I both know you're on your way, buddy."

"Let's make a bet! You try to bean me with that rock, I try to dodge it. If you hit me, then I'll be here in... a couple days. Like, four tops."

"Uh huh..." Jake hums, thoughtful, tossing the rock the rock in the air a couple times. It was a good rock. "And if I miss?"

"You rot here for life, sucka!"

"Seems like a pretty dumb bet, bro. I don't know if I--" Without warning, Jake whipped the stone as hard and fast as he could in the direction of Yellow-Finn, voice raising in a delighted cackle at his deception. "Think fast, ya butt!"

The rock made contact and Jake immediately doubled over, wheezing painfully. He was losing mass hand over fist over the last few weeks. Weight didn't really mean much when you could shift your mass however you wanted, but losing too much of it did make rocks to the gut hurt more. Go figure.

"Oof... hah... haha..." He coughs out a few choking laughs, sinking to his knees. Yellow-Finn was long gone, but Jake didn't care. "Pretty funny prank, bro."

From his knees he flopped backwards, staring up at the inky sky intently. A few pained tears blurred his vision. Jake brushes them away quickly, coughs fading to dull laughter.

"Four days it is, pal. See you soon."

Week Four: Depression

Things were getting pretty dire out here on Planet Idiot. His cocktail hotdog supply was down to a measly eight. The clown cake? Only a few bites left. He'd managed to stave off true-blue hallucination for a while now, but those days were about to come to an unpleasant end once he ran out of food.

The scariest part, though, was just how little Jake could bring himself to care.

He lay on his side, flipping through hand photos with what felt like a hundred pound weight on his chest. Since he was a kid, crying never really came naturally to Jake. Their father never let it pass without some derisive comment or another. He'd learned pretty quick that laughing in the face of danger, or sadness, or fear was a fast track to Joshua's good graces.

And Jake was great at that! Better than both his brothers by a country mile. He did whatever he could to amuse himself in scary situations; fart jokes, dumb puns, whatever he had to do to distract himself from dread creeping around the corner. Eventually, it became second nature.

Time, age, and certain life events had softened that instinct. These days, Jake found it challenging to keep it together through any movie with a little kid in danger. One time, Lady told him she loved him -- same was as she'd done a thousand times before --and Jake found himself so full of gratitude at her presence in his life that he'd start to weep. Full on weep, for like, an hour. He never even told Finn about that.

And then there was Finn. Since he was a little baby, Jake felt like he was living with his heart running around outside his chest. Seeing Finn in pain, any kind of pain, had the same automatic response as someone reaching into his chest and squeezing.

Still, moments like this? Alone, scared, defeated? Jake couldn't bring himself to cry if he wanted to. It was like he was back in the house with his Dad, willing himself to laugh off a stubbed toe or bad day.

Jake ran a hand over a picture of his pups and grandpups, feeling each of their little faces. He was never going to see those faces again. Never gonna meet any more of his grandkids. Never gonna get another chance to show them that despite all the ways in which he messed up or wasn't there, loving them was never something he had to work hard at.

His chest felt hot and tight, but not a single tear fell. Jake let out a crackling laugh, feeling his ribs tighten against his skin as he did.

"Maybe Jermaine was onto something about Dad." He manages, wiping at a dry eye. "This sucks."

Week Five: Acceptance

The blackhole was swirling just above him now. It was beautiful in its own way. This whole place had a certain beauty to it. Inky black skies, dotted with millions of stars.

How many dogs had gotten to see something like this in their lifetimes? Not many, Jake bet.

His skin was stretched thin now. Efforts to stretch to a more normal appearance were easy, but took effort to maintain. There was no one here to pretend for, no little brothers to ease the fears of. Just him, alone, on a big rock.

Nobody was coming. And not because they didn't want to, either, Jake had come to terms with that. Where ever Jake was, getting to him just wasn't in the cards. It probably wasn't even in the same dimension. Just his luck, really.

Finn knew he loved him more than life itself, that much Jake was sure of. And he knew Finn would tell his kids how much he loved them too, even if they didn't want to hear it. For the rest of his life, if need be. That's just the kind of guy Finn was.

"Oh hey, check it out." Jake smiles, feeling a tear rundown his face. "There you are, buddy. Took you long enough."

His last hotdog chewed around in his mouth. He'd been savoring it for the better part of an hour, sucking every last molecule of taste from it before swallowing. There were worse last meals than this.

Overhead, a small pinprick of white light appeared. Jake thought it was just another star at first, until it started growing. The white pinprick quickly became a white hole, refracted light spilled out of it like sunshine through a crystal. Rainbows danced all over the planet's surface, filling Jake with a warmth he hadn't felt in weeks.

Wherever he was going next, there were definitely gonna be rainbows there. And if that didn't sound like heaven, Jake didn't know what did.

Edited 2022-12-01 02:27 (UTC)

"So," Jermaine asks, voice surprisingly steady for how much his entire body was still shaking from their journey. "This is Mars, huh?"

Finn did this all the time, presumably. Mars magic, space doors, cartwheeling through time -- his kid brother apparently had hands on experience with all of them, or at least knew people who did.

If you asked Jermaine if he expected himself to ever seek audience with the King of Mars, he'd have laughed in your face. For Finn that was just... Tuesday.

"Kinda dusty."

Edited 2022-11-30 17:52 (UTC)

It was a bit of a hike from Magic Man's house to the treehouse. Normally Jake would have stretched them home in considerably faster time, but when he casually begged off (citing wanting to walk around back home, soak in the nature), neither of his brothers called him on it. Finn may have taken him at face value -- out of desire for it to be true more than cluelessness, probably -- but Jermaine wasn't so easily swayed by his brush off.

The sight of the treehouse did coax an honest moment of vulnerability out of Jake. Halfway through the hike, he'd hopped up on Finn's back (to get a better view, y'know, of the nature) to hitch a ride. As their home came into view, Finn could probably feel the way his grip tightened a little. He fell silent for a bit, processing just how unlikely it felt he'd ever see this place again.

Life was pretty wild, huh?

BMO sobbed. Neptr made a pie, which Jake pretty much immediately devoured. Finn continued to hang around him like a limpet, trying to play it off as happenstance that he always happened to be standing right next to him at all times.

"You guys must've been running around a lot up there, huh?" Jake jokes, elbowing Finn a little. "You reek, man."

Despite the long journey back, the specifics of what exactly Jermaine and Finn had done to get him back hadn't been discussed. They'd mostly just talked about what Finn had been up to the last five weeks, his lice adventures, all the ways in which he got confused at the store, and so on. The fact that Jermaine screamed on the Mars transporter on their journey out was as close as they got to talking about it.

Jake didn't mind. He had a lot to talk about, too, and very little idea how to do so.

"Maybe you should go shower and hit the hay, you're getting those dark circles."

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