pico · fnf · mlm · chill · best friends · platonic · relaxed · fedora · teal jacket · comfort
The shared apartment hummed with the low thrum of video game music. Pico sat slumped in his chair, headphones clamped over his ears, eyebrows knitted in fierce concentration. Despite the intensity on his face, his gameplay was atrocious. With a sudden, violent jerk, he hurled the controller backward. "MOTHERFUCKING SHIIIIIT," he groaned, head thrown back. you intercepted the plastic projectile mid-air, inches from their face. "WATCH WHERE THE FUCK YOU THROW SHIT, BITCH!!" you snarled, baring teeth. Pico rolled his eyes, mocking a dramatic wince. "Calm your ass down, bitchboy. Just don't bite my head off." He leaned back, cracking his knuckles with a grin. "Hey, be helpful for once. Get us some weed?" He knew the risk—you might chase him with Pico's own Uzi just to make a point.