Pancake enjoyer

Gwen Blake he loved like no other, a love radiating and soft like one of the novellas mamá used to watch on the couch at night. She’d always turn them off whenever they showed military service and she couldn’t handle the reminder.

But Finney—Finn, as Ernesto had learned after using the former too many times that Finn had nearly snapped his glasses straight off his face—Ernesto never put his thumb fully on.

Finn was closed off, which was fine. Ernesto would be too, he had been when Robin first died and he had to grapple with knowing his older brother was gone. Forever. Finn was also strong in a way that reminded Ernesto uncomfortably of Robin but more vicious. Like a perro with its teeth barred.

Finn also seemed to unabashedly hate his guts.

Ernesto had asked Gwen a few times. Do you know why Finn doesn’t like me? Is it because I’m with you? And one time, should I be worried for my life?

The door shut with an incomplete latch as Ernesto stepped outside, which was something that the Blake family had been saying they’d fix for approximately 7 years and never did because Terrence was—how did Ernesto put this—a deadbeat. The air was cold to the exhale and left him pressing his hands down as far as they can go into his pockets.

“Since when did you sneak smokes?”

Ernesto jumped and turned to look, finding Finn slumped halfway down the side of the house like he couldn’t decide rather to sit or stand in the snow and gave up halfway between both. Finn is watching him from the corner of his eyes, bringing the lot blunt to his lips and taking a slow inhale from the end of it.

“Shit,” Ernesto ran a hair through his hair and then immediately pressed it back down into his pockets when the cold nipped at his fingertips. “Sorry uh, I just wanted to get a breath of fresh air.”

He snuck a glance over, his glasses starting to fog up from the air which was going to prove to be a nuisance later. Finn met his eye, looking vaguely amused as he breathed smoke out into the air. It curled before dissipating. Ernesto shifted under his gaze.

“I’ll head back in, let you finish..” He gestured vaguely before abandoning the action halfway and nodding. He doesn’t want to be in Finn’s space, Ernesto grew up polite and much less head-first than Robin. He grabbed the cold doorknob again and began turning it to go back inside.

“You want a hit?”

Ernesto turned to look at Finn who was now holding out the lit roll-up with an expectant look. Not pushy Ernesto would say, but unexpectedly genuine in the offer. Unexpectedly genuine from Ernesto’s preconceived opinion on Finn at least. He looked up to meet Finn’s gaze and Finn didn’t look or pull away, just waited for an answer while the end of the blunt glowed a dim orange.

Ernesto had never smoked. That much was obvious to most people, most of all Finn. Ernesto hadn’t exactly ever considered smoking either, he’d seen mamá sneak a cigarette or two when she needed one but she always tried to hide it from Robin and him and he never questioned it further.

Ernesto hesitantly took the roll-up from Finn and held it. The cold was making his fingers go numb but the heat from the end of the blunt fought back as he held it.

What was he supposed to do with this?

The amused snort that came from Finn did little to prepare him before Finn took the roll-up back from his hands and then too quickly leaned into Ernesto until their noses almost brushed.

Ernesto stared back completely frozen in place, the smell of weed much more prominent now that Finn was up close—which was a feat considering Finn always reeked of it. He could see the haziness in Finn’s eyes and the eased tension of his shoulders.

Finn grabbed his face before Ernesto even processed it, pressing the blunt to his lips until Ernesto automatically parted them to allow it in. He inhaled from the back of it and his eyes shut for half a second as he did..

Before immediately doubling over into a mess of coughing and choking as it stung him from the inside out.

Finn laughed from above him and smacked Ernesto on the back as if that would help. It didn’t.

Throws this at you and runs @acid-miwi @d1sapp01ntm3nt @2tonedwolf

Gwen Blake he loved like no other, a love radiating and soft like one of the novellas mamá used to watch on the couch at night. She’d always turn them off whenever they showed military service and she couldn’t handle the reminder.

But Finney—Finn, as Ernesto had learned after using the former too many times that Finn had nearly snapped his glasses straight off his face—Ernesto never put his thumb fully on.

Finn was closed off, which was fine. Ernesto would be too, he had been when Robin first died and he had to grapple with knowing his older brother was gone. Forever. Finn was also strong in a way that reminded Ernesto uncomfortably of Robin but more vicious. Like a perro with its teeth barred.

Finn also seemed to unabashedly hate his guts.

Ernesto had asked Gwen a few times. Do you know why Finn doesn’t like me? Is it because I’m with you? And one time, should I be worried for my life?

The door shut with an incomplete latch as Ernesto stepped outside, which was something that the Blake family had been saying they’d fix for approximately 7 years and never did because Terrence was—how did Ernesto put this—a deadbeat. The air was cold to the exhale and left him pressing his hands down as far as they can go into his pockets.

“Since when did you sneak smokes?”

Ernesto jumped and turned to look, finding Finn slumped halfway down the side of the house like he couldn’t decide rather to sit or stand in the snow and gave up halfway between both. Finn is watching him from the corner of his eyes, bringing the lot blunt to his lips and taking a slow inhale from the end of it.

“Shit,” Ernesto ran a hair through his hair and then immediately pressed it back down into his pockets when the cold nipped at his fingertips. “Sorry uh, I just wanted to get a breath of fresh air.”

He snuck a glance over, his glasses starting to fog up from the air which was going to prove to be a nuisance later. Finn met his eye, looking vaguely amused as he breathed smoke out into the air. It curled before dissipating. Ernesto shifted under his gaze.

“I’ll head back in, let you finish..” He gestured vaguely before abandoning the action halfway and nodding. He doesn’t want to be in Finn’s space, Ernesto grew up polite and much less head-first than Robin. He grabbed the cold doorknob again and began turning it to go back inside.

“You want a hit?”

Ernesto turned to look at Finn who was now holding out the lit roll-up with an expectant look. Not pushy Ernesto would say, but unexpectedly genuine in the offer. Unexpectedly genuine from Ernesto’s preconceived opinion on Finn at least. He looked up to meet Finn’s gaze and Finn didn’t look or pull away, just waited for an answer while the end of the blunt glowed a dim orange.

Ernesto had never smoked. That much was obvious to most people, most of all Finn. Ernesto hadn’t exactly ever considered smoking either, he’d seen mamá sneak a cigarette or two when she needed one but she always tried to hide it from Robin and him and he never questioned it further.

Ernesto hesitantly took the roll-up from Finn and held it. The cold was making his fingers go numb but the heat from the end of the blunt fought back as he held it.

What was he supposed to do with this?

The amused snort that came from Finn did little to prepare him before Finn took the roll-up back from his hands and then too quickly leaned into Ernesto until their noses almost brushed.

Ernesto stared back completely frozen in place, the smell of weed much more prominent now that Finn was up close—which was a feat considering Finn always reeked of it. He could see the haziness in Finn’s eyes and the eased tension of his shoulders.

Finn grabbed his face before Ernesto even processed it, pressing the blunt to his lips until Ernesto automatically parted them to allow it in. He inhaled from the back of it and his eyes shut for half a second as he did..

Before immediately doubling over into a mess of coughing and choking as it stung him from the inside out.

Finn laughed from above him and smacked Ernesto on the back as if that would help. It didn’t.

Throws this at you and runs @acid-miwi @d1sapp01ntm3nt @2tonedwolf

Gwen Blake he loved like no other, a love radiating and soft like one of the novellas mamá used to watch on the couch at night. She’d always turn them off whenever they showed military service and she couldn’t handle the reminder.

But Finney—Finn, as Ernesto had learned after using the former too many times that Finn had nearly snapped his glasses straight off his face—Ernesto never put his thumb fully on.

Finn was closed off, which was fine. Ernesto would be too, he had been when Robin first died and he had to grapple with knowing his older brother was gone. Forever. Finn was also strong in a way that reminded Ernesto uncomfortably of Robin but more vicious. Like a perro with its teeth barred.

Finn also seemed to unabashedly hate his guts.

Ernesto had asked Gwen a few times. Do you know why Finn doesn’t like me? Is it because I’m with you? And one time, should I be worried for my life?

The door shut with an incomplete latch as Ernesto stepped outside, which was something that the Blake family had been saying they’d fix for approximately 7 years and never did because Terrence was—how did Ernesto put this—a deadbeat. The air was cold to the exhale and left him pressing his hands down as far as they can go into his pockets.

“Since when did you sneak smokes?”

Ernesto jumped and turned to look, finding Finn slumped halfway down the side of the house like he couldn’t decide rather to sit or stand in the snow and gave up halfway between both. Finn is watching him from the corner of his eyes, bringing the lot blunt to his lips and taking a slow inhale from the end of it.

“Shit,” Ernesto ran a hair through his hair and then immediately pressed it back down into his pockets when the cold nipped at his fingertips. “Sorry uh, I just wanted to get a breath of fresh air.”

He snuck a glance over, his glasses starting to fog up from the air which was going to prove to be a nuisance later. Finn met his eye, looking vaguely amused as he breathed smoke out into the air. It curled before dissipating. Ernesto shifted under his gaze.

“I’ll head back in, let you finish..” He gestured vaguely before abandoning the action halfway and nodding. He doesn’t want to be in Finn’s space, Ernesto grew up polite and much less head-first than Robin. He grabbed the cold doorknob again and began turning it to go back inside.

“You want a hit?”

Ernesto turned to look at Finn who was now holding out the lit roll-up with an expectant look. Not pushy Ernesto would say, but unexpectedly genuine in the offer. Unexpectedly genuine from Ernesto’s preconceived opinion on Finn at least. He looked up to meet Finn’s gaze and Finn didn’t look or pull away, just waited for an answer while the end of the blunt glowed a dim orange.

Ernesto had never smoked. That much was obvious to most people, most of all Finn. Ernesto hadn’t exactly ever considered smoking either, he’d seen mamá sneak a cigarette or two when she needed one but she always tried to hide it from Robin and him and he never questioned it further.

Ernesto hesitantly took the roll-up from Finn and held it. The cold was making his fingers go numb but the heat from the end of the blunt fought back as he held it.

What was he supposed to do with this?

The amused snort that came from Finn did little to prepare him before Finn took the roll-up back from his hands and then too quickly leaned into Ernesto until their noses almost brushed.

Ernesto stared back completely frozen in place, the smell of weed much more prominent now that Finn was up close—which was a feat considering Finn always reeked of it. He could see the haziness in Finn’s eyes and the eased tension of his shoulders.

Finn grabbed his face before Ernesto even processed it, pressing the blunt to his lips until Ernesto automatically parted them to allow it in. He inhaled from the back of it and his eyes shut for half a second as he did..

Before immediately doubling over into a mess of coughing and choking as it stung him from the inside out.

Finn laughed from above him and smacked Ernesto on the back as if that would help. It didn’t.

Throws this at you and runs @acid-miwi @d1sapp01ntm3nt @2tonedwolf

Gwen Blake he loved like no other, a love radiating and soft like one of the novellas mamá used to watch on the couch at night. She’d always turn them off whenever they showed military service and she couldn’t handle the reminder.

But Finney—Finn, as Ernesto had learned after using the former too many times that Finn had nearly snapped his glasses straight off his face—Ernesto never put his thumb fully on.

Finn was closed off, which was fine. Ernesto would be too, he had been when Robin first died and he had to grapple with knowing his older brother was gone. Forever. Finn was also strong in a way that reminded Ernesto uncomfortably of Robin but more vicious. Like a perro with its teeth barred.

Finn also seemed to unabashedly hate his guts.

Ernesto had asked Gwen a few times. Do you know why Finn doesn’t like me? Is it because I’m with you? And one time, should I be worried for my life?

The door shut with an incomplete latch as Ernesto stepped outside, which was something that the Blake family had been saying they’d fix for approximately 7 years and never did because Terrence was—how did Ernesto put this—a deadbeat. The air was cold to the exhale and left him pressing his hands down as far as they can go into his pockets.

“Since when did you sneak smokes?”

Ernesto jumped and turned to look, finding Finn slumped halfway down the side of the house like he couldn’t decide rather to sit or stand in the snow and gave up halfway between both. Finn is watching him from the corner of his eyes, bringing the lot blunt to his lips and taking a slow inhale from the end of it.

“Shit,” Ernesto ran a hair through his hair and then immediately pressed it back down into his pockets when the cold nipped at his fingertips. “Sorry uh, I just wanted to get a breath of fresh air.”

He snuck a glance over, his glasses starting to fog up from the air which was going to prove to be a nuisance later. Finn met his eye, looking vaguely amused as he breathed smoke out into the air. It curled before dissipating. Ernesto shifted under his gaze.

“I’ll head back in, let you finish..” He gestured vaguely before abandoning the action halfway and nodding. He doesn’t want to be in Finn’s space, Ernesto grew up polite and much less head-first than Robin. He grabbed the cold doorknob again and began turning it to go back inside.

“You want a hit?”

Ernesto turned to look at Finn who was now holding out the lit roll-up with an expectant look. Not pushy Ernesto would say, but unexpectedly genuine in the offer. Unexpectedly genuine from Ernesto’s preconceived opinion on Finn at least. He looked up to meet Finn’s gaze and Finn didn’t look or pull away, just waited for an answer while the end of the blunt glowed a dim orange.

Ernesto had never smoked. That much was obvious to most people, most of all Finn. Ernesto hadn’t exactly ever considered smoking either, he’d seen mamá sneak a cigarette or two when she needed one but she always tried to hide it from Robin and him and he never questioned it further.

Ernesto hesitantly took the roll-up from Finn and held it. The cold was making his fingers go numb but the heat from the end of the blunt fought back as he held it.

What was he supposed to do with this?

The amused snort that came from Finn did little to prepare him before Finn took the roll-up back from his hands and then too quickly leaned into Ernesto until their noses almost brushed.

Ernesto stared back completely frozen in place, the smell of weed much more prominent now that Finn was up close—which was a feat considering Finn always reeked of it. He could see the haziness in Finn’s eyes and the eased tension of his shoulders.

Finn grabbed his face before Ernesto even processed it, pressing the blunt to his lips until Ernesto automatically parted them to allow it in. He inhaled from the back of it and his eyes shut for half a second as he did..

Before immediately doubling over into a mess of coughing and choking as it stung him from the inside out.

Finn laughed from above him and smacked Ernesto on the back as if that would help. It didn’t.

Throws this at you and runs @acid-miwi @d1sapp01ntm3nt @2tonedwolf

Gwen Blake he loved like no other, a love radiating and soft like one of the novellas mamá used to watch on the couch at night. She’d always turn them off whenever they showed military service and she couldn’t handle the reminder.

But Finney—Finn, as Ernesto had learned after using the former too many times that Finn had nearly snapped his glasses straight off his face—Ernesto never put his thumb fully on.

Finn was closed off, which was fine. Ernesto would be too, he had been when Robin first died and he had to grapple with knowing his older brother was gone. Forever. Finn was also strong in a way that reminded Ernesto uncomfortably of Robin but more vicious. Like a perro with its teeth barred.

Finn also seemed to unabashedly hate his guts.

Ernesto had asked Gwen a few times. Do you know why Finn doesn’t like me? Is it because I’m with you? And one time, should I be worried for my life?

The door shut with an incomplete latch as Ernesto stepped outside, which was something that the Blake family had been saying they’d fix for approximately 7 years and never did because Terrence was—how did Ernesto put this—a deadbeat. The air was cold to the exhale and left him pressing his hands down as far as they can go into his pockets.

“Since when did you sneak smokes?”

Ernesto jumped and turned to look, finding Finn slumped halfway down the side of the house like he couldn’t decide rather to sit or stand in the snow and gave up halfway between both. Finn is watching him from the corner of his eyes, bringing the lot blunt to his lips and taking a slow inhale from the end of it.

“Shit,” Ernesto ran a hair through his hair and then immediately pressed it back down into his pockets when the cold nipped at his fingertips. “Sorry uh, I just wanted to get a breath of fresh air.”

He snuck a glance over, his glasses starting to fog up from the air which was going to prove to be a nuisance later. Finn met his eye, looking vaguely amused as he breathed smoke out into the air. It curled before dissipating. Ernesto shifted under his gaze.

“I’ll head back in, let you finish..” He gestured vaguely before abandoning the action halfway and nodding. He doesn’t want to be in Finn’s space, Ernesto grew up polite and much less head-first than Robin. He grabbed the cold doorknob again and began turning it to go back inside.

“You want a hit?”

Ernesto turned to look at Finn who was now holding out the lit roll-up with an expectant look. Not pushy Ernesto would say, but unexpectedly genuine in the offer. Unexpectedly genuine from Ernesto’s preconceived opinion on Finn at least. He looked up to meet Finn’s gaze and Finn didn’t look or pull away, just waited for an answer while the end of the blunt glowed a dim orange.

Ernesto had never smoked. That much was obvious to most people, most of all Finn. Ernesto hadn’t exactly ever considered smoking either, he’d seen mamá sneak a cigarette or two when she needed one but she always tried to hide it from Robin and him and he never questioned it further.

Ernesto hesitantly took the roll-up from Finn and held it. The cold was making his fingers go numb but the heat from the end of the blunt fought back as he held it.

What was he supposed to do with this?

The amused snort that came from Finn did little to prepare him before Finn took the roll-up back from his hands and then too quickly leaned into Ernesto until their noses almost brushed.

Ernesto stared back completely frozen in place, the smell of weed much more prominent now that Finn was up close—which was a feat considering Finn always reeked of it. He could see the haziness in Finn’s eyes and the eased tension of his shoulders.

Finn grabbed his face before Ernesto even processed it, pressing the blunt to his lips until Ernesto automatically parted them to allow it in. He inhaled from the back of it and his eyes shut for half a second as he did..

Before immediately doubling over into a mess of coughing and choking as it stung him from the inside out.

Finn laughed from above him and smacked Ernesto on the back as if that would help. It didn’t.

Throws this at you and runs @acid-miwi @d1sapp01ntm3nt @2tonedwolf

Gwen Blake he loved like no other, a love radiating and soft like one of the novellas mamá used to watch on the couch at night. She’d always turn them off whenever they showed military service and she couldn’t handle the reminder.

But Finney—Finn, as Ernesto had learned after using the former too many times that Finn had nearly snapped his glasses straight off his face—Ernesto never put his thumb fully on.

Finn was closed off, which was fine. Ernesto would be too, he had been when Robin first died and he had to grapple with knowing his older brother was gone. Forever. Finn was also strong in a way that reminded Ernesto uncomfortably of Robin but more vicious. Like a perro with its teeth barred.

Finn also seemed to unabashedly hate his guts.

Ernesto had asked Gwen a few times. Do you know why Finn doesn’t like me? Is it because I’m with you? And one time, should I be worried for my life?

The door shut with an incomplete latch as Ernesto stepped outside, which was something that the Blake family had been saying they’d fix for approximately 7 years and never did because Terrence was—how did Ernesto put this—a deadbeat. The air was cold to the exhale and left him pressing his hands down as far as they can go into his pockets.

“Since when did you sneak smokes?”

Ernesto jumped and turned to look, finding Finn slumped halfway down the side of the house like he couldn’t decide rather to sit or stand in the snow and gave up halfway between both. Finn is watching him from the corner of his eyes, bringing the lot blunt to his lips and taking a slow inhale from the end of it.

“Shit,” Ernesto ran a hair through his hair and then immediately pressed it back down into his pockets when the cold nipped at his fingertips. “Sorry uh, I just wanted to get a breath of fresh air.”

He snuck a glance over, his glasses starting to fog up from the air which was going to prove to be a nuisance later. Finn met his eye, looking vaguely amused as he breathed smoke out into the air. It curled before dissipating. Ernesto shifted under his gaze.

“I’ll head back in, let you finish..” He gestured vaguely before abandoning the action halfway and nodding. He doesn’t want to be in Finn’s space, Ernesto grew up polite and much less head-first than Robin. He grabbed the cold doorknob again and began turning it to go back inside.

“You want a hit?”

Ernesto turned to look at Finn who was now holding out the lit roll-up with an expectant look. Not pushy Ernesto would say, but unexpectedly genuine in the offer. Unexpectedly genuine from Ernesto’s preconceived opinion on Finn at least. He looked up to meet Finn’s gaze and Finn didn’t look or pull away, just waited for an answer while the end of the blunt glowed a dim orange.

Ernesto had never smoked. That much was obvious to most people, most of all Finn. Ernesto hadn’t exactly ever considered smoking either, he’d seen mamá sneak a cigarette or two when she needed one but she always tried to hide it from Robin and him and he never questioned it further.

Ernesto hesitantly took the roll-up from Finn and held it. The cold was making his fingers go numb but the heat from the end of the blunt fought back as he held it.

What was he supposed to do with this?

The amused snort that came from Finn did little to prepare him before Finn took the roll-up back from his hands and then too quickly leaned into Ernesto until their noses almost brushed.

Ernesto stared back completely frozen in place, the smell of weed much more prominent now that Finn was up close—which was a feat considering Finn always reeked of it. He could see the haziness in Finn’s eyes and the eased tension of his shoulders.

Finn grabbed his face before Ernesto even processed it, pressing the blunt to his lips until Ernesto automatically parted them to allow it in. He inhaled from the back of it and his eyes shut for half a second as he did..

Before immediately doubling over into a mess of coughing and choking as it stung him from the inside out.

Finn laughed from above him and smacked Ernesto on the back as if that would help. It didn’t.

Throws this at you and runs @acid-miwi @d1sapp01ntm3nt @2tonedwolf

Gwen Blake he loved like no other, a love radiating and soft like one of the novellas mamá used to watch on the couch at night. She’d always turn them off whenever they showed military service and she couldn’t handle the reminder.

But Finney—Finn, as Ernesto had learned after using the former too many times that Finn had nearly snapped his glasses straight off his face—Ernesto never put his thumb fully on.

Finn was closed off, which was fine. Ernesto would be too, he had been when Robin first died and he had to grapple with knowing his older brother was gone. Forever. Finn was also strong in a way that reminded Ernesto uncomfortably of Robin but more vicious. Like a perro with its teeth barred.

Finn also seemed to unabashedly hate his guts.

Ernesto had asked Gwen a few times. Do you know why Finn doesn’t like me? Is it because I’m with you? And one time, should I be worried for my life?

The door shut with an incomplete latch as Ernesto stepped outside, which was something that the Blake family had been saying they’d fix for approximately 7 years and never did because Terrence was—how did Ernesto put this—a deadbeat. The air was cold to the exhale and left him pressing his hands down as far as they can go into his pockets.

“Since when did you sneak smokes?”

Ernesto jumped and turned to look, finding Finn slumped halfway down the side of the house like he couldn’t decide rather to sit or stand in the snow and gave up halfway between both. Finn is watching him from the corner of his eyes, bringing the lot blunt to his lips and taking a slow inhale from the end of it.

“Shit,” Ernesto ran a hair through his hair and then immediately pressed it back down into his pockets when the cold nipped at his fingertips. “Sorry uh, I just wanted to get a breath of fresh air.”

He snuck a glance over, his glasses starting to fog up from the air which was going to prove to be a nuisance later. Finn met his eye, looking vaguely amused as he breathed smoke out into the air. It curled before dissipating. Ernesto shifted under his gaze.

“I’ll head back in, let you finish..” He gestured vaguely before abandoning the action halfway and nodding. He doesn’t want to be in Finn’s space, Ernesto grew up polite and much less head-first than Robin. He grabbed the cold doorknob again and began turning it to go back inside.

“You want a hit?”

Ernesto turned to look at Finn who was now holding out the lit roll-up with an expectant look. Not pushy Ernesto would say, but unexpectedly genuine in the offer. Unexpectedly genuine from Ernesto’s preconceived opinion on Finn at least. He looked up to meet Finn’s gaze and Finn didn’t look or pull away, just waited for an answer while the end of the blunt glowed a dim orange.

Ernesto had never smoked. That much was obvious to most people, most of all Finn. Ernesto hadn’t exactly ever considered smoking either, he’d seen mamá sneak a cigarette or two when she needed one but she always tried to hide it from Robin and him and he never questioned it further.

Ernesto hesitantly took the roll-up from Finn and held it. The cold was making his fingers go numb but the heat from the end of the blunt fought back as he held it.

What was he supposed to do with this?

The amused snort that came from Finn did little to prepare him before Finn took the roll-up back from his hands and then too quickly leaned into Ernesto until their noses almost brushed.

Ernesto stared back completely frozen in place, the smell of weed much more prominent now that Finn was up close—which was a feat considering Finn always reeked of it. He could see the haziness in Finn’s eyes and the eased tension of his shoulders.

Finn grabbed his face before Ernesto even processed it, pressing the blunt to his lips until Ernesto automatically parted them to allow it in. He inhaled from the back of it and his eyes shut for half a second as he did..

Before immediately doubling over into a mess of coughing and choking as it stung him from the inside out.

Finn laughed from above him and smacked Ernesto on the back as if that would help. It didn’t.

Throws this at you and runs @acid-miwi @d1sapp01ntm3nt @2tonedwolf

Gwen Blake he loved like no other, a love radiating and soft like one of the novellas mamá used to watch on the couch at night. She’d always turn them off whenever they showed military service and she couldn’t handle the reminder.

But Finney—Finn, as Ernesto had learned after using the former too many times that Finn had nearly snapped his glasses straight off his face—Ernesto never put his thumb fully on.

Finn was closed off, which was fine. Ernesto would be too, he had been when Robin first died and he had to grapple with knowing his older brother was gone. Forever. Finn was also strong in a way that reminded Ernesto uncomfortably of Robin but more vicious. Like a perro with its teeth barred.

Finn also seemed to unabashedly hate his guts.

Ernesto had asked Gwen a few times. Do you know why Finn doesn’t like me? Is it because I’m with you? And one time, should I be worried for my life?

The door shut with an incomplete latch as Ernesto stepped outside, which was something that the Blake family had been saying they’d fix for approximately 7 years and never did because Terrence was—how did Ernesto put this—a deadbeat. The air was cold to the exhale and left him pressing his hands down as far as they can go into his pockets.

“Since when did you sneak smokes?”

Ernesto jumped and turned to look, finding Finn slumped halfway down the side of the house like he couldn’t decide rather to sit or stand in the snow and gave up halfway between both. Finn is watching him from the corner of his eyes, bringing the lot blunt to his lips and taking a slow inhale from the end of it.

“Shit,” Ernesto ran a hair through his hair and then immediately pressed it back down into his pockets when the cold nipped at his fingertips. “Sorry uh, I just wanted to get a breath of fresh air.”

He snuck a glance over, his glasses starting to fog up from the air which was going to prove to be a nuisance later. Finn met his eye, looking vaguely amused as he breathed smoke out into the air. It curled before dissipating. Ernesto shifted under his gaze.

“I’ll head back in, let you finish..” He gestured vaguely before abandoning the action halfway and nodding. He doesn’t want to be in Finn’s space, Ernesto grew up polite and much less head-first than Robin. He grabbed the cold doorknob again and began turning it to go back inside.

“You want a hit?”

Ernesto turned to look at Finn who was now holding out the lit roll-up with an expectant look. Not pushy Ernesto would say, but unexpectedly genuine in the offer. Unexpectedly genuine from Ernesto’s preconceived opinion on Finn at least. He looked up to meet Finn’s gaze and Finn didn’t look or pull away, just waited for an answer while the end of the blunt glowed a dim orange.

Ernesto had never smoked. That much was obvious to most people, most of all Finn. Ernesto hadn’t exactly ever considered smoking either, he’d seen mamá sneak a cigarette or two when she needed one but she always tried to hide it from Robin and him and he never questioned it further.

Ernesto hesitantly took the roll-up from Finn and held it. The cold was making his fingers go numb but the heat from the end of the blunt fought back as he held it.

What was he supposed to do with this?

The amused snort that came from Finn did little to prepare him before Finn took the roll-up back from his hands and then too quickly leaned into Ernesto until their noses almost brushed.

Ernesto stared back completely frozen in place, the smell of weed much more prominent now that Finn was up close—which was a feat considering Finn always reeked of it. He could see the haziness in Finn’s eyes and the eased tension of his shoulders.

Finn grabbed his face before Ernesto even processed it, pressing the blunt to his lips until Ernesto automatically parted them to allow it in. He inhaled from the back of it and his eyes shut for half a second as he did..

Before immediately doubling over into a mess of coughing and choking as it stung him from the inside out.

Finn laughed from above him and smacked Ernesto on the back as if that would help. It didn’t.

Throws this at you and runs @acid-miwi @d1sapp01ntm3nt @2tonedwolf

Gwen Blake he loved like no other, a love radiating and soft like one of the novellas mamá used to watch on the couch at night. She’d always turn them off whenever they showed military service and she couldn’t handle the reminder.

But Finney—Finn, as Ernesto had learned after using the former too many times that Finn had nearly snapped his glasses straight off his face—Ernesto never put his thumb fully on.

Finn was closed off, which was fine. Ernesto would be too, he had been when Robin first died and he had to grapple with knowing his older brother was gone. Forever. Finn was also strong in a way that reminded Ernesto uncomfortably of Robin but more vicious. Like a perro with its teeth barred.

Finn also seemed to unabashedly hate his guts.

Ernesto had asked Gwen a few times. Do you know why Finn doesn’t like me? Is it because I’m with you? And one time, should I be worried for my life?

The door shut with an incomplete latch as Ernesto stepped outside, which was something that the Blake family had been saying they’d fix for approximately 7 years and never did because Terrence was—how did Ernesto put this—a deadbeat. The air was cold to the exhale and left him pressing his hands down as far as they can go into his pockets.

“Since when did you sneak smokes?”

Ernesto jumped and turned to look, finding Finn slumped halfway down the side of the house like he couldn’t decide rather to sit or stand in the snow and gave up halfway between both. Finn is watching him from the corner of his eyes, bringing the lot blunt to his lips and taking a slow inhale from the end of it.

“Shit,” Ernesto ran a hair through his hair and then immediately pressed it back down into his pockets when the cold nipped at his fingertips. “Sorry uh, I just wanted to get a breath of fresh air.”

He snuck a glance over, his glasses starting to fog up from the air which was going to prove to be a nuisance later. Finn met his eye, looking vaguely amused as he breathed smoke out into the air. It curled before dissipating. Ernesto shifted under his gaze.

“I’ll head back in, let you finish..” He gestured vaguely before abandoning the action halfway and nodding. He doesn’t want to be in Finn’s space, Ernesto grew up polite and much less head-first than Robin. He grabbed the cold doorknob again and began turning it to go back inside.

“You want a hit?”

Ernesto turned to look at Finn who was now holding out the lit roll-up with an expectant look. Not pushy Ernesto would say, but unexpectedly genuine in the offer. Unexpectedly genuine from Ernesto’s preconceived opinion on Finn at least. He looked up to meet Finn’s gaze and Finn didn’t look or pull away, just waited for an answer while the end of the blunt glowed a dim orange.

Ernesto had never smoked. That much was obvious to most people, most of all Finn. Ernesto hadn’t exactly ever considered smoking either, he’d seen mamá sneak a cigarette or two when she needed one but she always tried to hide it from Robin and him and he never questioned it further.

Ernesto hesitantly took the roll-up from Finn and held it. The cold was making his fingers go numb but the heat from the end of the blunt fought back as he held it.

What was he supposed to do with this?

The amused snort that came from Finn did little to prepare him before Finn took the roll-up back from his hands and then too quickly leaned into Ernesto until their noses almost brushed.

Ernesto stared back completely frozen in place, the smell of weed much more prominent now that Finn was up close—which was a feat considering Finn always reeked of it. He could see the haziness in Finn’s eyes and the eased tension of his shoulders.

Finn grabbed his face before Ernesto even processed it, pressing the blunt to his lips until Ernesto automatically parted them to allow it in. He inhaled from the back of it and his eyes shut for half a second as he did..

Before immediately doubling over into a mess of coughing and choking as it stung him from the inside out.

Finn laughed from above him and smacked Ernesto on the back as if that would help. It didn’t.

Throws this at you and runs @acid-miwi @d1sapp01ntm3nt @2tonedwolf

Gwen Blake he loved like no other, a love radiating and soft like one of the novellas mamá used to watch on the couch at night. She’d always turn them off whenever they showed military service and she couldn’t handle the reminder.

But Finney—Finn, as Ernesto had learned after using the former too many times that Finn had nearly snapped his glasses straight off his face—Ernesto never put his thumb fully on.

Finn was closed off, which was fine. Ernesto would be too, he had been when Robin first died and he had to grapple with knowing his older brother was gone. Forever. Finn was also strong in a way that reminded Ernesto uncomfortably of Robin but more vicious. Like a perro with its teeth barred.

Finn also seemed to unabashedly hate his guts.

Ernesto had asked Gwen a few times. Do you know why Finn doesn’t like me? Is it because I’m with you? And one time, should I be worried for my life?

The door shut with an incomplete latch as Ernesto stepped outside, which was something that the Blake family had been saying they’d fix for approximately 7 years and never did because Terrence was—how did Ernesto put this—a deadbeat. The air was cold to the exhale and left him pressing his hands down as far as they can go into his pockets.

“Since when did you sneak smokes?”

Ernesto jumped and turned to look, finding Finn slumped halfway down the side of the house like he couldn’t decide rather to sit or stand in the snow and gave up halfway between both. Finn is watching him from the corner of his eyes, bringing the lot blunt to his lips and taking a slow inhale from the end of it.

“Shit,” Ernesto ran a hair through his hair and then immediately pressed it back down into his pockets when the cold nipped at his fingertips. “Sorry uh, I just wanted to get a breath of fresh air.”

He snuck a glance over, his glasses starting to fog up from the air which was going to prove to be a nuisance later. Finn met his eye, looking vaguely amused as he breathed smoke out into the air. It curled before dissipating. Ernesto shifted under his gaze.

“I’ll head back in, let you finish..” He gestured vaguely before abandoning the action halfway and nodding. He doesn’t want to be in Finn’s space, Ernesto grew up polite and much less head-first than Robin. He grabbed the cold doorknob again and began turning it to go back inside.

“You want a hit?”

Ernesto turned to look at Finn who was now holding out the lit roll-up with an expectant look. Not pushy Ernesto would say, but unexpectedly genuine in the offer. Unexpectedly genuine from Ernesto’s preconceived opinion on Finn at least. He looked up to meet Finn’s gaze and Finn didn’t look or pull away, just waited for an answer while the end of the blunt glowed a dim orange.

Ernesto had never smoked. That much was obvious to most people, most of all Finn. Ernesto hadn’t exactly ever considered smoking either, he’d seen mamá sneak a cigarette or two when she needed one but she always tried to hide it from Robin and him and he never questioned it further.

Ernesto hesitantly took the roll-up from Finn and held it. The cold was making his fingers go numb but the heat from the end of the blunt fought back as he held it.

What was he supposed to do with this?

The amused snort that came from Finn did little to prepare him before Finn took the roll-up back from his hands and then too quickly leaned into Ernesto until their noses almost brushed.

Ernesto stared back completely frozen in place, the smell of weed much more prominent now that Finn was up close—which was a feat considering Finn always reeked of it. He could see the haziness in Finn’s eyes and the eased tension of his shoulders.

Finn grabbed his face before Ernesto even processed it, pressing the blunt to his lips until Ernesto automatically parted them to allow it in. He inhaled from the back of it and his eyes shut for half a second as he did..

Before immediately doubling over into a mess of coughing and choking as it stung him from the inside out.

Finn laughed from above him and smacked Ernesto on the back as if that would help. It didn’t.

Throws this at you and runs @acid-miwi @d1sapp01ntm3nt @2tonedwolf