Pancake enjoyer

*sigh* I hope you’re happy

*sigh* I hope you’re happy

Let’s hope I actually finish my drawing this time😁😁😁😁 !!! Fingers crossed you guys !!!!😁😁😁😁☺️☺️☺️🌼😁😁☺️🌼

Crossing all 10 fingers and all 11 toes.

"Finney, c'mon."

"Finn-"

"Hey, dude, are you alright-"

It's dark out. He looks up to see the moon and finds it obscured by clouds. It's been a long evening. Too long.

Finn only came to this party for Gwen, to make sure that she didn't end up doing something she regretted. Fat load of good that's done him.

The joint between his fingers is crumbled to reddish cinders between his fingers, dripping onto the grass beneath him.

"What do you want, Ernesto?" Finn replies wearily, knowing exactly who the person touching his shoulder and fretting over him is. It's always him.

"Oh, phew. I was starting to think you were- uh- really out of it." Ernesto speaks with a cadence that suggests he doesn't really have control over what he says. He's nervous.

He should be.

"Is there a reason you're being a bother. Or do you just enjoy pissing me off."

Finn doesn't look behind him to see the inevitable hurt spreading across Ernesto's chubby face, but secretly revels in it.

"I just wanted to see if you were still here, is all." Ernie sounds timid, a pathetic squeaky imitation of someone he will never be. Finn abruptly wants very much to hit him.

"I am." Finn says bluntly, examining the still hot joint. "You smoke, Ernie?"

"Uh- no. Sorry." Meek. Wimpy.

Finn exhales slowly, tilting his head back to savour the feeling of moonlight on his skin. He snuffs the lit end of his joint out against his inner wrist. It sizzles a little.

"Shame. It'd probably help you be less...like yourself." The roof of Finn's mouth is dry, unpleasant and sickly in all the worst ways. "You'd be a fun person, maybe. Fuck, you need to lighten up."

"Finney, c'mon."

"Finn-"

"Hey, dude, are you alright-"

It's dark out. He looks up to see the moon and finds it obscured by clouds. It's been a long evening. Too long.

Finn only came to this party for Gwen, to make sure that she didn't end up doing something she regretted. Fat load of good that's done him.

The joint between his fingers is crumbled to reddish cinders between his fingers, dripping onto the grass beneath him.

"What do you want, Ernesto?" Finn replies wearily, knowing exactly who the person touching his shoulder and fretting over him is. It's always him.

"Oh, phew. I was starting to think you were- uh- really out of it." Ernesto speaks with a cadence that suggests he doesn't really have control over what he says. He's nervous.

He should be.

"Is there a reason you're being a bother. Or do you just enjoy pissing me off."

Finn doesn't look behind him to see the inevitable hurt spreading across Ernesto's chubby face, but secretly revels in it.

"I just wanted to see if you were still here, is all." Ernie sounds timid, a pathetic squeaky imitation of someone he will never be. Finn abruptly wants very much to hit him.

"I am." Finn says bluntly, examining the still hot joint. "You smoke, Ernie?"

"Uh- no. Sorry." Meek. Wimpy.

Finn exhales slowly, tilting his head back to savour the feeling of moonlight on his skin. He snuffs the lit end of his joint out against his inner wrist. It sizzles a little.

"Shame. It'd probably help you be less...like yourself." The roof of Finn's mouth is dry, unpleasant and sickly in all the worst ways. "You'd be a fun person, maybe. Fuck, you need to lighten up."

"Finney, c'mon."

"Finn-"

"Hey, dude, are you alright-"

It's dark out. He looks up to see the moon and finds it obscured by clouds. It's been a long evening. Too long.

Finn only came to this party for Gwen, to make sure that she didn't end up doing something she regretted. Fat load of good that's done him.

The joint between his fingers is crumbled to reddish cinders between his fingers, dripping onto the grass beneath him.

"What do you want, Ernesto?" Finn replies wearily, knowing exactly who the person touching his shoulder and fretting over him is. It's always him.

"Oh, phew. I was starting to think you were- uh- really out of it." Ernesto speaks with a cadence that suggests he doesn't really have control over what he says. He's nervous.

He should be.

"Is there a reason you're being a bother. Or do you just enjoy pissing me off."

Finn doesn't look behind him to see the inevitable hurt spreading across Ernesto's chubby face, but secretly revels in it.

"I just wanted to see if you were still here, is all." Ernie sounds timid, a pathetic squeaky imitation of someone he will never be. Finn abruptly wants very much to hit him.

"I am." Finn says bluntly, examining the still hot joint. "You smoke, Ernie?"

"Uh- no. Sorry." Meek. Wimpy.

Finn exhales slowly, tilting his head back to savour the feeling of moonlight on his skin. He snuffs the lit end of his joint out against his inner wrist. It sizzles a little.

"Shame. It'd probably help you be less...like yourself." The roof of Finn's mouth is dry, unpleasant and sickly in all the worst ways. "You'd be a fun person, maybe. Fuck, you need to lighten up."

"Finney, c'mon."

"Finn-"

"Hey, dude, are you alright-"

It's dark out. He looks up to see the moon and finds it obscured by clouds. It's been a long evening. Too long.

Finn only came to this party for Gwen, to make sure that she didn't end up doing something she regretted. Fat load of good that's done him.

The joint between his fingers is crumbled to reddish cinders between his fingers, dripping onto the grass beneath him.

"What do you want, Ernesto?" Finn replies wearily, knowing exactly who the person touching his shoulder and fretting over him is. It's always him.

"Oh, phew. I was starting to think you were- uh- really out of it." Ernesto speaks with a cadence that suggests he doesn't really have control over what he says. He's nervous.

He should be.

"Is there a reason you're being a bother. Or do you just enjoy pissing me off."

Finn doesn't look behind him to see the inevitable hurt spreading across Ernesto's chubby face, but secretly revels in it.

"I just wanted to see if you were still here, is all." Ernie sounds timid, a pathetic squeaky imitation of someone he will never be. Finn abruptly wants very much to hit him.

"I am." Finn says bluntly, examining the still hot joint. "You smoke, Ernie?"

"Uh- no. Sorry." Meek. Wimpy.

Finn exhales slowly, tilting his head back to savour the feeling of moonlight on his skin. He snuffs the lit end of his joint out against his inner wrist. It sizzles a little.

"Shame. It'd probably help you be less...like yourself." The roof of Finn's mouth is dry, unpleasant and sickly in all the worst ways. "You'd be a fun person, maybe. Fuck, you need to lighten up."

"Finney, c'mon."

"Finn-"

"Hey, dude, are you alright-"

It's dark out. He looks up to see the moon and finds it obscured by clouds. It's been a long evening. Too long.

Finn only came to this party for Gwen, to make sure that she didn't end up doing something she regretted. Fat load of good that's done him.

The joint between his fingers is crumbled to reddish cinders between his fingers, dripping onto the grass beneath him.

"What do you want, Ernesto?" Finn replies wearily, knowing exactly who the person touching his shoulder and fretting over him is. It's always him.

"Oh, phew. I was starting to think you were- uh- really out of it." Ernesto speaks with a cadence that suggests he doesn't really have control over what he says. He's nervous.

He should be.

"Is there a reason you're being a bother. Or do you just enjoy pissing me off."

Finn doesn't look behind him to see the inevitable hurt spreading across Ernesto's chubby face, but secretly revels in it.

"I just wanted to see if you were still here, is all." Ernie sounds timid, a pathetic squeaky imitation of someone he will never be. Finn abruptly wants very much to hit him.

"I am." Finn says bluntly, examining the still hot joint. "You smoke, Ernie?"

"Uh- no. Sorry." Meek. Wimpy.

Finn exhales slowly, tilting his head back to savour the feeling of moonlight on his skin. He snuffs the lit end of his joint out against his inner wrist. It sizzles a little.

"Shame. It'd probably help you be less...like yourself." The roof of Finn's mouth is dry, unpleasant and sickly in all the worst ways. "You'd be a fun person, maybe. Fuck, you need to lighten up."

"Finney, c'mon."

"Finn-"

"Hey, dude, are you alright-"

It's dark out. He looks up to see the moon and finds it obscured by clouds. It's been a long evening. Too long.

Finn only came to this party for Gwen, to make sure that she didn't end up doing something she regretted. Fat load of good that's done him.

The joint between his fingers is crumbled to reddish cinders between his fingers, dripping onto the grass beneath him.

"What do you want, Ernesto?" Finn replies wearily, knowing exactly who the person touching his shoulder and fretting over him is. It's always him.

"Oh, phew. I was starting to think you were- uh- really out of it." Ernesto speaks with a cadence that suggests he doesn't really have control over what he says. He's nervous.

He should be.

"Is there a reason you're being a bother. Or do you just enjoy pissing me off."

Finn doesn't look behind him to see the inevitable hurt spreading across Ernesto's chubby face, but secretly revels in it.

"I just wanted to see if you were still here, is all." Ernie sounds timid, a pathetic squeaky imitation of someone he will never be. Finn abruptly wants very much to hit him.

"I am." Finn says bluntly, examining the still hot joint. "You smoke, Ernie?"

"Uh- no. Sorry." Meek. Wimpy.

Finn exhales slowly, tilting his head back to savour the feeling of moonlight on his skin. He snuffs the lit end of his joint out against his inner wrist. It sizzles a little.

"Shame. It'd probably help you be less...like yourself." The roof of Finn's mouth is dry, unpleasant and sickly in all the worst ways. "You'd be a fun person, maybe. Fuck, you need to lighten up."

"Finney, c'mon."

"Finn-"

"Hey, dude, are you alright-"

It's dark out. He looks up to see the moon and finds it obscured by clouds. It's been a long evening. Too long.

Finn only came to this party for Gwen, to make sure that she didn't end up doing something she regretted. Fat load of good that's done him.

The joint between his fingers is crumbled to reddish cinders between his fingers, dripping onto the grass beneath him.

"What do you want, Ernesto?" Finn replies wearily, knowing exactly who the person touching his shoulder and fretting over him is. It's always him.

"Oh, phew. I was starting to think you were- uh- really out of it." Ernesto speaks with a cadence that suggests he doesn't really have control over what he says. He's nervous.

He should be.

"Is there a reason you're being a bother. Or do you just enjoy pissing me off."

Finn doesn't look behind him to see the inevitable hurt spreading across Ernesto's chubby face, but secretly revels in it.

"I just wanted to see if you were still here, is all." Ernie sounds timid, a pathetic squeaky imitation of someone he will never be. Finn abruptly wants very much to hit him.

"I am." Finn says bluntly, examining the still hot joint. "You smoke, Ernie?"

"Uh- no. Sorry." Meek. Wimpy.

Finn exhales slowly, tilting his head back to savour the feeling of moonlight on his skin. He snuffs the lit end of his joint out against his inner wrist. It sizzles a little.

"Shame. It'd probably help you be less...like yourself." The roof of Finn's mouth is dry, unpleasant and sickly in all the worst ways. "You'd be a fun person, maybe. Fuck, you need to lighten up."

"Finney, c'mon."

"Finn-"

"Hey, dude, are you alright-"

It's dark out. He looks up to see the moon and finds it obscured by clouds. It's been a long evening. Too long.

Finn only came to this party for Gwen, to make sure that she didn't end up doing something she regretted. Fat load of good that's done him.

The joint between his fingers is crumbled to reddish cinders between his fingers, dripping onto the grass beneath him.

"What do you want, Ernesto?" Finn replies wearily, knowing exactly who the person touching his shoulder and fretting over him is. It's always him.

"Oh, phew. I was starting to think you were- uh- really out of it." Ernesto speaks with a cadence that suggests he doesn't really have control over what he says. He's nervous.

He should be.

"Is there a reason you're being a bother. Or do you just enjoy pissing me off."

Finn doesn't look behind him to see the inevitable hurt spreading across Ernesto's chubby face, but secretly revels in it.

"I just wanted to see if you were still here, is all." Ernie sounds timid, a pathetic squeaky imitation of someone he will never be. Finn abruptly wants very much to hit him.

"I am." Finn says bluntly, examining the still hot joint. "You smoke, Ernie?"

"Uh- no. Sorry." Meek. Wimpy.

Finn exhales slowly, tilting his head back to savour the feeling of moonlight on his skin. He snuffs the lit end of his joint out against his inner wrist. It sizzles a little.

"Shame. It'd probably help you be less...like yourself." The roof of Finn's mouth is dry, unpleasant and sickly in all the worst ways. "You'd be a fun person, maybe. Fuck, you need to lighten up."

"Finney, c'mon."

"Finn-"

"Hey, dude, are you alright-"

It's dark out. He looks up to see the moon and finds it obscured by clouds. It's been a long evening. Too long.

Finn only came to this party for Gwen, to make sure that she didn't end up doing something she regretted. Fat load of good that's done him.

The joint between his fingers is crumbled to reddish cinders between his fingers, dripping onto the grass beneath him.

"What do you want, Ernesto?" Finn replies wearily, knowing exactly who the person touching his shoulder and fretting over him is. It's always him.

"Oh, phew. I was starting to think you were- uh- really out of it." Ernesto speaks with a cadence that suggests he doesn't really have control over what he says. He's nervous.

He should be.

"Is there a reason you're being a bother. Or do you just enjoy pissing me off."

Finn doesn't look behind him to see the inevitable hurt spreading across Ernesto's chubby face, but secretly revels in it.

"I just wanted to see if you were still here, is all." Ernie sounds timid, a pathetic squeaky imitation of someone he will never be. Finn abruptly wants very much to hit him.

"I am." Finn says bluntly, examining the still hot joint. "You smoke, Ernie?"

"Uh- no. Sorry." Meek. Wimpy.

Finn exhales slowly, tilting his head back to savour the feeling of moonlight on his skin. He snuffs the lit end of his joint out against his inner wrist. It sizzles a little.

"Shame. It'd probably help you be less...like yourself." The roof of Finn's mouth is dry, unpleasant and sickly in all the worst ways. "You'd be a fun person, maybe. Fuck, you need to lighten up."

"Finney, c'mon."

"Finn-"

"Hey, dude, are you alright-"

It's dark out. He looks up to see the moon and finds it obscured by clouds. It's been a long evening. Too long.

Finn only came to this party for Gwen, to make sure that she didn't end up doing something she regretted. Fat load of good that's done him.

The joint between his fingers is crumbled to reddish cinders between his fingers, dripping onto the grass beneath him.

"What do you want, Ernesto?" Finn replies wearily, knowing exactly who the person touching his shoulder and fretting over him is. It's always him.

"Oh, phew. I was starting to think you were- uh- really out of it." Ernesto speaks with a cadence that suggests he doesn't really have control over what he says. He's nervous.

He should be.

"Is there a reason you're being a bother. Or do you just enjoy pissing me off."

Finn doesn't look behind him to see the inevitable hurt spreading across Ernesto's chubby face, but secretly revels in it.

"I just wanted to see if you were still here, is all." Ernie sounds timid, a pathetic squeaky imitation of someone he will never be. Finn abruptly wants very much to hit him.

"I am." Finn says bluntly, examining the still hot joint. "You smoke, Ernie?"

"Uh- no. Sorry." Meek. Wimpy.

Finn exhales slowly, tilting his head back to savour the feeling of moonlight on his skin. He snuffs the lit end of his joint out against his inner wrist. It sizzles a little.

"Shame. It'd probably help you be less...like yourself." The roof of Finn's mouth is dry, unpleasant and sickly in all the worst ways. "You'd be a fun person, maybe. Fuck, you need to lighten up."