Sonyaii - SonyaIsHere

@pucaru1

//FANART, Boyfriend , OC x canon with cross (he/it) x bf x gf (tags #art #fridaynighfunkin #Boyfriendfnf #fnf #animatic #girlfriendfnf #ocxcanon ) . WE ARE POLYCULING RN

//FANART, Boyfriend , (tags #art #fridaynighfunkin #Boyfriendfnf #fnf #bffnf #fnfbf ) . Been a hot sec since I drew heavier plus sized bodies so u h I drew it with man I am hyper fixating on

Who needs love when it only hurts.

✭✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

✧ A/N; Pico angst and Heartbreak.

✧ CW; Hurt/No Comfort, Dissociation, Self Harm, Breakdowns.

✧ Notes; Pico gets my projection and feelings, so the hurt is strong with this one. Art was also done by me.

✧ Word Count; 1,577

ﾟ₊☾ Taglist; @drxgonspine ☽₊ﾟ

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“No hard feelings, right Pico?” …. “Yeah. No hard feelings.” A lie. One that rolled off his tongue way too easily for his own good. No hard feelings? Is that what was expected from him? To not feel the stinging ache that was drilling itself deep into his chest? To not feel the way the rejection was lighting his heart up into flames, killing him slowly? Staring up at the ceiling, the conversation replayed over and over in his brain like a broken record. “I guess so.” The ginger spoke out to no one in response to his own questions. His eyes were heavy and tired, made worse with a headache that was slowly pounding and making its presence known behind his eyes. Adding a vice-like pressure against his temples. Pico sighed, turning his attention to his phone screen, absentmindedly scrolling through videos and posts, trying his damnedest to shove back his thoughts. Shove away his feelings. But the thoughts and pain just lingered. And God did it hurt. It hurt so much, seeing Boyfriend and Girlfriend happy and lovey-dovey with each other on their Instagram posts and stories. It all sent a wave of hurt through his body like a lightning strike. They looked so much happier…without him. Was..Was that why Boyfriend broke things off, deciding on cutting him out of their prior polyamorous relationship? Because they didn't feel happy with him in it? …. That thought. Just the idea that he was nothing but a nuisance, a third wheel made his body shiver from emotion. Letting out a choked noise that had been building in his throat and suffocating him, Pico felt hot tears burning in his eyes, building and blinding him. He sat up and clutched onto his green sweater with one of his shaking hands, his bottom lip trembling as fresh tears streamed down his pale skin. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! Pico felt like he was drowning, hyperventilating and unable to catch his breath. He couldn't swim out of his sorrow over the break up, over not being needed. How could he let himself stoop so low? Didn't he remember the last time this happened? Was he really THAT stupid and naive still, that he trusted and gave his heart to Boyfriend once again, only for the bluenette to crush it under his shoes as if it were a nas ty, disgusting insect? Yes. Yes, he was that stupid. That naive.

He ran his fingers into his hair, his fingers slowly and tightly gripping at the ginger locks, his nails digging into his scalp in a way to ground himself. He needed to calm down. He needed to stop being so dramatic. Quiet padding to the bathroom, and the splash of water onto his face, Pico stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes were red, his cheeks and nose were flushed and his hair was disheveled and messy from crying. He looked so.. pathetic. His body trembled with emotion again, him looking away from the mirror. He felt sick. Turning, he looked down at his phone, the time being a quarter past 11 PM. It had been a little over 15 hours since he had been broken up with and was left to be alone with his heartache. Yes, he would admit that he had been distant for a few weeks, his mental health declining slowly once the remembrance of the day his school got…attacked came up. He always got like that anytime it came around, but this time. This time, he had no one to help calm him down and console him. No one there to help him out of his funk. Boyfriend had been too wrapped up in Girlfriend to care or remember, him slowly leaving Pico in the background as if he were a distant memory. He'd be blinded by the onslaught of tears that were building and building, threatening to spill over again. Calm down. He needed to calm down. .. Stripping off his sweater, and clothes, he tossed them aside and into a clothes pile in the corner of the room. He stepped into the shower, turning on the stream of water, letting the warmth wash over his body from his head and down. It was a nice distraction from his aching chest and heavy mind. His stray tears mixed with the flow of water that cascaded down his face, him letting out a low sigh. No matter how comforting the shower was, it couldn't help the lingering pain he felt in his psyche, and heart. He cracked his eyes open slightly, blankly staring down at his feet, his mind hazy and filled with the static that was his self hatred, it buzzing and screaming at him. Deafening him with the loud smack of reality. His hand twitched, his eyes slowly casting their sights up and back over to the mirror behind the glass doors of the shower. He stared at himself. He didn't even seem real to himself. He just looked fake, much like how everything felt to him now. As if he was watching back on a memory that he could somehow control, despite his body feeling full of heavy pins and needles. Swallowing thickly, he scowled as he could taste the bitter agony that threatened to swallow him whole. He needed to ground himself, he needed to feel SOMETHING other than this. But he couldn't. Usually he had Boyfriend help him when it came to being grounded back to Earth, back to reality and the present.

But Boyfriend wasn't there anymore. His nails dug into his arms, puncturing his pale skin and leaving deep indents to ground himself. He kept digging, and digging, before something in him snapped up on feeling the small trickle of blood that ran down his arm. Slowly lifting up his hand, Pico would furrow his brows and wince at the sight of the blood he drew up from his arm. “Shit—” Was all Pico could murmur under his trembling breath, him running the wound under the stream of water from the shower head. He'd open the door with a hit of his hip, before he'd reach out and grab a bandaid. His movements were heavy, and he felt like he was moving on autopilot. After he patched himself up, he stood under the cascade of water, the temperature slowly dropping till it was cold as ice, drawing him out of his thoughts. He sighed and rinsed the shampoo from his ginger curls, him hating how his brain would drift to the memory of the gentle touch of his ex's fingers combing through his hair. It tore him up inside, made him choke out another sob he tried to keep in. He shut the water off after finishing his shower, and stepped out, feeling more miserable than ever before. Pico could only stare at himself again in the mirror, his white eyes harboring all the emotions he kept inside. He could see the way he was so broken up inside. Over a stupid boy. A stupid boy that stole his heart, only to crush it with a smile. ….. Why did everything go wrong in his life? Why? WHY. He didn't understand. Couldn't understand why everything went wrong. Who did he have now? His dad? Busy in the army. Nene and Darnell? They were too caught up in getting money and slaughtering targets to get it. His cousin…Otis. Otis wasn't even in the country, living out in Mexico with his parents. God how he wished to be anywhere but where he was right now.

He slumped against the wall, him trembling before going back to his room, laying back down after getting clothed again. And he was back where he was before, staring up at the ceiling in his thoughts. He looked through his Instagram. A poor move on his end, his self esteem dropping lower than low when he saw a picture of Girlfriend and Boyfriend sharing a kiss on the beach. A screamed out sob came from out of his body, his emotions overwhelming him, him throwing his phone as hard as possible at the wall, before he broke out into tears and cried. He was a wreck. A mess..but he deserved it, didn't he? What did he bring to the table? Nothing. All he ever brought to it was his emotional problems, his anger issues, and his distrust in others while they were all out and about. But he couldn't help it. People scared him. He couldn't trust people, not when his mind would be screaming at him, telling him that they wanted to hurt him and kill him. His hands were trembling. Everyone was a threat, his mind flashing back images of his elementary school, of the incident that brought about his trauma and mental health issues. Why didn't he see the signs… Why did he never see the signs with anything? “I'm so pathetic..” Pico whispered out to himself, his voice cracked, and shaky from tears. He rubbed his eyes, them puffy and red from his breakdown, him laying in bed now. Silent. His chest felt heavy. He left his phone by the wall on the floor, before turning onto his side, having no energy to pull the blankets up over himself. Maybe he'd feel better if he slept away the heartache and sorrow he felt. And he laid there, letting his eyes get heavy before he drifted off. Alone for the first time in years.

─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✭